What Israel’s story makes painfully obvious is that following the Lord is a lifelong lesson in “I believe, but help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).
The question at the heart of Exodus 17 incisively encapsulates the human condition. Amid yet another sequence of less-than-ideal circumstances, Israel cries out, “Is the Lord among us or not?” And if that question feels familiar, there’s likely a good reason for that. What I’ve learned through studying the first half of Exodus is that humanity hasn’t changed all that much from ancient times till now. Drawing a hard line of distinction between the ages is more than a little misleading, because although we may be separated by thousands of years of history and just as many advancements in technology, changes in politics, developments in culture, or miles in geography, we aren’t that much different from those who populated the earliest days of civilization.
Our clothes may be different, but our temperaments are pretty much the same. Whether it’s ancient Mesopotamia, medieval Europe, or modern America, the human heart and mind still fall prey to the same sets of fears, wants, and worries. The human condition hasn’t evolved beyond trembling because we’ve looked too far ahead or reposed in the romanticized warmth of the past. No matter the era, life feels incredibly fragile. And when crises strike or hit a tad too close to home, we are given to interrogating God with a familiar string of questions. “Is the Lord among us or not?” Is he actually with us? Is he there? Does he know what we are going through or what we’ve been through? Or does he even care? Where is God in this?
1. When God Feels Far Away
These are very natural, very human inquiries, ones I’d wager you’ve asked a time or two yourself. We’ve all been through the “stuff” of life. Whether it’s a flat tire, a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, tragically losing a loved one, or the onset of war and the impending disintegration of society’s moral compass, the point is that there are times when whether or not God is among us feels legitimate. There are times when he feels very far away, infinitely distant from what we’re going through. Our circumstances overwhelm us, bottlenecking our hope till all we can see are conditions we’d rather escape, prompting us to cry out, “God, where are you?” Is the Lord among us or not?
As genuine and even understandable as this question is, it still stems from the menace known as unbelief. Our faith is constantly imperiled by the residual unfaith that lurks within us. What Israel’s story makes painfully obvious is that following the Lord is a lifelong lesson in “I believe, but help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24). From Chapter 14 to 17, the congregation of God’s people go from the highs of seeing Yahweh rescue them at the Red Sea to the lows of the dry spell at Marah, only to repeat that same cycle all over again. It’s “I believe” with a chaser of unbelief, which, if we’re honest, is what most of our lives feel like.
Hopefully, we can be candid enough to admit that Israel’s plight isn’t beyond us. In many ways, we’re just like them. As quick as we are to praise the Lord on Sunday, we just as quickly mutter curses under our breath when things don’t go our way on Monday. And whether we realize it or not, those moments are instances of unbelief.
2. When Unbelief Takes Over
This, of course, is what sin most truly is. Sin isn’t necessarily doing sinful things. Rather, sinful actions are symptoms of an unbelieving heart. They’re signs of something wrong at a deeper level, at the level of the soul. Living for ourselves, taking what isn’t ours, lying to others, and puffing ourselves up are all side effects of the disease of sin, which has infected us all. But the sin underneath all other sins is unbelief, that is, not taking God at his word (Gen. 3:1). Ever since that tragic afternoon in Eden, humanity has had a terrible time trusting in the words of God. “Did God actually say that? Did he really mean that?”
Thus, despite God’s promise that he would be with them and that he’d go before them (Exod. 13:21–22), and despite God reinforcing that promise by fighting for them at the Red Sea shoreline (Exod. 14:13–14), upon arriving at Rephidim, a new yet familiar crisis provoked their pitiful cry, “Is the Lord among us or not?” (Exod. 17:7).
As their journey drew them further south along the Sinai peninsula (and further away from Canaan, I might add), the Israelites found themselves in somewhat derivative territory, with the water supply running dry (Exod. 17:1–3; cf. 15:22–27). But instead of believing in the God who had shown himself more than trustworthy up to that point, they reverted to not only grumbling (again), but also to “quarreling” (Exod. 17:2). Their agitation has increased since last time. Now, they’re not just griping like hangry kids in the backseat during a long road trip — they’re becoming verbally and even physically contentious. In fact, when Moses prays to God to voice his concern about what’s going on, he fears his countrymen are about to stone him (Exod. 17:4).
This, of course, isn’t the first time Israel has been desperate since fleeing Egypt, but they’ve never been “ready to grab rocks and chuck them at their leader” desperate. They’ve sunk to a new low, one which brings out the worst in them. Moses perceives, however, that all their squabbles are really with the Lord. “Why do you quarrel with me?” he pushes back. “Why do you test the Lord?” (Exod. 17:2). Their lack of belief in the Lord’s provision — which he has already made glaringly obvious — puts the people of God in dire straits.
3. Grace from the Rock
As is always the case, though, amid his people’s severest dilemmas, God intervenes. In this case, he steps in and tells Moses to go on ahead of the congregation, along with the elders, to “the rock of Horeb” (Exod. 17:5–6). Upon finding it, he’s supposed to hit with his staff to create a spring from which the people can drink. “Horeb,” of course, is another name for the mountainous region of Sinai, the very terrain where the Lord showed up in the burning bush to commission Moses to lead Israel out of bondage. It’s also where the Lord will soon descend to establish his covenant and convey his laws to his people (Exod. 19). And it’s also where the Lord will eventually manifest in a “still small voice” to a depressed, exasperated prophet (1 Kings 19). In other words, God has a propensity for showing up here and showing his people who he is.
After alerting Moses to the existence of a specific rock within that rocky territory, and that one strike is all that it’d take for water to come gushing out of it, that’s exactly what happens. “‘I will stand before you there on the rock at Horeb,’” declares the Lord, “‘and you shall strike the rock, and water shall come out of it, and the people will drink.’ And Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel” (Exod. 17:6). The instrument of choice is none other than the staff Moses had with him all the way back in Chapter 4, the very staff that God turned into a snake and back into a staff right in front of his befuddled eyes (Exod. 4:2–5). It’s also the same staff that was used throughout the plagues, most notably when it struck the Nile and turned it into a river of blood (Exod. 7:17–20).
The point is that this staff is no magic wand. It’s just a shepherd’s staff, a weather-beaten crook that had formerly been used to corral stubborn sheep on his father-in-law’s homestead. And yet, this very ordinary staff became the instrument of God’s power, the visible token of Yahweh’s judgment. With staff in hand, God’s servant both turned the Nile into blood and made water spring from a rock. The power to do both had nothing at all to do with Moses. As he clutched the staff in his hands, it was an object lesson for belief, for faith, for taking God at his word. By faith, therefore, the rock was struck, and the people beckoned to drink from it.
In a miracle of grace, God’s people are nourished by something only God could do, by something only he could provide. And notably, God provided for them when they least deserved it. Instead of waiting for Moses to whip the Israelites into shape or delaying his provision of water till they got their act together, even while his people were spitting complaints and rebelling against him, God provided for them. Even while they questioned whether he was among them or not, he showed them that he had never left. The rock at Horeb is struck by the staff of the Lord’s judgment to quench his people’s thirst.
4. The Battle Belongs
But Israel’s trial isn’t over just yet. Their critical water supply is compounded by a surprise incursion from the Amalekites (Exod. 17:8). This moment constitutes Israel’s first military engagement, a daunting notion for a nation of former slaves. But after drawing up a quick battle plan, Moses sends Joshua, his eventual successor, to lead the charge in the valley, while he scrambles to the summit of a nearby hill, along with Aaron and Hur, presumably to pray (Exod. 17:9–10). And just so no one misses what’s going on here, in an unmistakable sign of God’s omnipotence, Israel’s only able to prevail so long as Moses raises his arms high above his head, with staff in hand. If he happens to lower them, the tide would quickly turn against them (Exod. 17:11).
Moses is only human, though, and the battle is long, so his arms soon gave way, which is when his two hilltop companions prove their worth, along with their resourcefulness, jumping into action and repositioning a boulder for Moses to lean on before putting themselves under his arms to hold them up for him (Exod. 17:12–13). It’s a breathtaking scene resulting in Israel winning the day and overwhelming their attackers in a single afternoon. But what happens next is telling:
Then the Lord said to Moses, “Write this as a memorial in a book and recite it in the ears of Joshua, that I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven.” And Moses built an altar and called the name of it, The Lord Is My Banner, saying, “A hand upon the throne of the Lord! The Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation” (Exod. 17:14–16).
After the dust settles on Israel’s first skirmish, God tells Moses to put it all “in a book” so that Joshua and everyone after him might always set in front of their eyes not Joshua’s military acumen, nor Moses’s ability to pray, nor even Aaron’s forearm strength, but God’s prevailing grace. He wanted Moses to chronicle these events so that every ensuing generation would know that this triumph was the Lord’s, and his alone. By faith, the staff was raised, and the people prevailed.
5. The Banner Over Us
Inspired by the graphic illustration of whose might made their victory possible, Moses constructs an altar and gives it a name: The Lord Is My Banner. That place, he says, is the stomping ground of none other than Jehovah-Nissi, the place where the staff of the Lord was raised on high as Israel’s ensign amid the fray. “Banner,” of course, alludes to a pole or a flagstaff, something that’s lifted up for all to see, especially in the heat of battle. The sight of their standard still aloft signaled to fight on. A banner was a rallying point, something around which those who belonged to it would come together, which helps us discern Moses’s message.
The “banner” or rallying point for God’s people isn’t their striving or ability, nor their tenacity, nor their fortitude, nor anything to do with them. No, God’s people are made to rally around God himself, in whose power they are provided for, and by whose power they prevail. In other words, this entire sequence at Rephidim is a vivid demonstration that the congregation of God’s people — which includes us, the church — is made up of those who rally around the work of the God who is both among them and for them. No matter how deep the crisis or how sharp the conflict, God’s people are beckoned to look to Jehovah-Nissi. And this is just as true for us right now as it was for Israel back then.
6. The Cross Is the Answer
All of this takes on deeper resonance for us once we realize what this scene preaches to us. As Paul plainly tells us, all of Israel “drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ” (1 Cor. 10:4). This moment, like every other moment in history and in Scripture, is one that preaches Christ. Just as water flowed from the rock that was struck, so do streams of living water flow from Christ’s side, the chief cornerstone who was judged in our stead. A river of relief, which the people didn’t deserve at all, gushed from the rock that endured the staff of God’s judgment. Similarly, a river of redemption pours from the Savior’s head, feet, and hands, as Christ the Rock feels the condemnation we were owed.
Indeed, just as Israel received God’s provision while they were still complaining, so, too, does Christ die for us, even while we’re still so weak and ungodly and full of sin (Rom. 5:6, 8). The good news is that God doesn’t wait until we get our act together prior to providing relief. In the middle of our doubt, confusion, rebellion, and sin, God in Christ shows up to take all the judgment we deserved and provide all the holiness necessary for a right relationship with him. He rescues our lives and nourishes our very souls with incessant streams of grace.
He is God’s “banner,” the signal of the salvation that belongs to the Lord alone. He is the one who was “lifted up” on the cross for us (John 3:15).
What’s more, the staff that hit the rock is also the staff that Moses lifts up, gesturing to the Lord who is raised as a “banner” over his people. It’s his power and promise that rally his people to himself, forging them into a people of faith, which is precisely what Christ is and does for us. As the prophet Isaiah tells us, it is none other than the “root of Jesse,” or Son of David, who “shall stand as a signal for the peoples” and “a signal for the nations,” assembling all “the banished of Israel, and gather the dispersed of Judah, from the four corners of the earth” (Isa. 11:10, 12). The only banner that gathers people “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” to itself is the banner of God’s love for the world (Rev. 7:9–10), which is Christ crucified.
He is God’s “banner,” the signal of the salvation that belongs to the Lord alone. He is the one who was “lifted up” on the cross for us (John 3:15). There on the cross, hanged and mutilated, is the ultimate realization of Jehovah-Nissi for us, because it is precisely there that all of our sins are “utterly blotted out” by him (Exod. 17:14 LXX; cf. Col. 2:13–14). What God did to Amalek in the Rephidim valley is what God did to your sin on a mount called Calvary. That’s where your miserable résumé of sin, strife, pride, and rebellion was canceled, wiped clean, so much so that now there’s no “memory” of it “under heaven” (Exod. 17:14). As Isaiah puts it, “I, I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins” (Isa. 43:25).
Thus, in all your difficulties and disasters, crises and conflicts, look away from everything else and look to the God whose banner over you is love (Song. 2:4), whose love for you is Christ, and whose grace is more than enough to provide in your weakness and prevail over your failures. The question of whether or not the Lord is with us or among us is definitively answered by the cross. When you’re left wondering about God’s presence or plans, when you find yourself in the grip of unbelief, the only remedy is to lift your eyes to the place where God has already given you his answer.
