The entire sphere of divine action, as connected with redemption, lies beyond the limits of death’s domain. When Satan has exhausted his power, then God begins to show Himself. The grave is the limit of Satan’s activity; but there it is that Divine activity begins. This is a glorious truth. Satan has the power of death; but God is the God of the living; and He gives life beyond the reach and power of death—a life which Satan cannot touch. The heart finds sweet relief in such a truth as this, in the midst of a scene where death reigns. Faith can stand and look on at Satan putting forth the plenitude of his power. It can stay itself upon God’s mighty instrumentality of resurrection. It can take its stand at the grave which has just closed over a beloved object, and drink in, from the lips of Him who is “the resurrection and the life,” the elevating assurance of a glorious immortality. It knows that God is stronger than Satan, and it can, therefore, quietly wait for the full manifestation of that superior strength, and, in thus waiting, find its victory and its settled peace. We have a noble example of this power of faith in the opening verses of our chapter.
“And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi. And the woman conceived and bare a son; and when she saw him that he was a goodly child she hid him three months. And when she could no longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river’s brink. And his sister stood afar off, to wit what would be done to him.” (Exod. 2:1-41And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi. 2And the woman conceived, and bare a son: and when she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months. 3And when she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river's brink. 4And his sister stood afar off, to wit what would be done to him. (Exodus 2:1‑4).) Here we have a scene of touching interest, in whatever way we contemplate it. In point of fact, it was simply faith triumphing over the influences of nature and death, and leaving room for the God of resurrection to act in his own proper sphere and character. True, the enemy’s power is apparent, in the circumstance that the child had to be placed in such a position-a position of death, in principle. And, moreover, a sword was piercing through the mother’s heart, in thus beholding her precious offspring laid, as it were, in death. Satan might act, and nature might weep; but the Quickener of the dead was behind the dark cloud, and faith beheld Him there, gilding heaven’s side of that cloud with His bright and life-giving beams. “By faith Moses when he was born was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he was a proper child; and they were not afraid of the king’s commandment.” Heb. 11:2323By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he was a proper child; and they were not afraid of the king's commandment. (Hebrews 11:23).
Thus this honored daughter of Levi teaches us a holy lesson. Her “ark of bulrushes, daubed with slime and pitch,” declares her confidence in the truth that there was a something which could keep out the waters of death, in the case of this “proper child,” as well as in the case of Noah, “the preacher of righteousness.” Are we to suppose for a moment, that this ark was the invention of mere nature? Was it nature’s forethought that devised it, or nature’s ingenuity that constructed it? Was the babe placed in the ark at the suggestion of a mother’s heart, cherishing the fond but visionary hope of thereby saving her treasure from the ruthless hand of death? Were we to reply to the above inquiries in the affirmative, we should, I believe, lose the beauteous teaching of this entire scene. How could we ever suppose that the “ark” was devised by one who saw no other portion or destiny for her child but death by drowning? Impossible. We can only look upon that significant structure, as faith’s draft handed in at the treasury of the God of resurrection. It was devised by the hand of faith, as a vessel of mercy, to carry “a proper child” safely over death’s dark waters, into the place assigned him by the immutable purpose of the living God. When we behold this daughter of Levi bending over that “ark of bulrushes,” which her faith had constructed, and depositing therein her babe, we see her “walking in the steps of that faith of her father Abraham,” which he had when “he rose up from before his dead,” and purchased the cave of Machpelah from the sons of Heth. (Gen. 23) We do not recognize in her the energy of mere nature, hanging over the object of its affections, about to fall into the iron grasp of the king of terrors. No; but we trace in her the energy of a faith which enables her to stand, as a conqueror, at the margin of death’s cold flood, and behold the chosen servant of Jehovah in safety at the other side.
Yes, my reader, faith can take those bold and lofty flights into regions far removed from this land of death and widespread desolation. Its eagle gaze can pierce the gloomy clouds which gather around the tomb, and behold the God of resurrection displaying the results of His everlasting counsels, in the midst of a sphere which no arrow of death can reach. It can take its stand upon the top of the rock of ages, and listen in holy triumph, while the surges of death are lashing its base.—Notes on Exodus.