Dear Friends in Christ, grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

200 years ago on the 4^th of July, 1825, in Stavanger, Norway, 52 passengers aboard the Restauration said their sad farewells to their families as they unceremoniously boarded the small 52 feet long and 17 foot wide wooden ship bound for a new life in America.  The majority of the passengers would never return to their home country nor see their families again. This past Friday, King Harald V of Norway and Queen Sonja, together with a flotilla of small pleasure boats and His Majesty’s royal yacht, ceremoniously sailed out of the Stavanger harbor with a replica of the Restauration as it began it 98-day journey across the Atlantic Ocean. The votive ship hanging over the baptismal fount is a copy of that same ship.

Last Sunday I began this summer sermon series of ships in scripture with the story of Noah’s ark, and God’s mission to save Noah’s family, all the animals of the earth and all the birds of the air from a great flood.  It was a reminder for the Church, that the ship has always been a symbol of God safeguarding for humanity and his whole creation. This morning, we turn to a much smaller vessel, a papyrus basket, no larger than a bassinet, but with an equally important purpose- to protect and preserve one child from the wrath of the Pharaoh of Egypt.  How tragically the story of baby Moses could have ended had three brave women not played a role in this story.  Their lives serve as a model and witness to us all. The first was Jochebed, the mother of Moses, the second was the Pharaoh’s daughter who adopted Moses and received him into her home, and the third was Miriam, Moses’ sister, whose quick thinking saved his life.

The story of Moses’ journey in a basket, begins after the death of the great leader Joseph, one of the 12 sons of Jacob. His ability to interpret dreams had spared Egypt from 7 years of a disastrous famine. And had earned him the respect of the Pharaoh who appointed the foreigner as the head of his household and treasury.  Joseph was allowed to bring his entire family of 70 to Egypt, where they were all welcomed out of respect for the great deeds that Joseph had performed.  The sons of Jacob thrived in their new home, but after Jospeh had died a new Pharaoh arose who did not honor the noble deeds of Joseph. Instead, he feared that the descendent of Joseph known as the Hebrews would overtake his country and that they would side with the Egyptian’s enemies in war.  So, the new Pharaoh turned against Joseph’s descendants, and he enslaved them and treated them cruelly. In a particularly violent act, he ordered that all new born Hebrew boys be drowned in the Nile River.

Scripture doesn’t immediately identify the parents of Moses, but later in the book of Exodus we discover they were named Amran and Jochobed, descendants of Levi, the priestly clan of Israel. This must have been within the first few years of Pharaoh’s edict to kill all baby boys since they already had two children, including an older son Aaron who was 3 years old, and an older daughter named Miriam who was somewhere between 6 and 12 years old.  The family managed to hide this baby boy, whom they loved, for 3 months. But then it changed, the risk was too great.  Why 3 months? As those of you who have known a newborn so well;  what do babies spend most of their time doing during their first three months? Sleeping, if you can get them settled quickly enough. But once the first three months have passed, the baby starts to sleep less… and cry more.

It was a painful, heart wrenching scene which countless mothers in the midst of war, famine, disease and trauma have had to face. The Pharaoh commanded that all newborn baby boys be thrown into the Nile River to die, and Jochebed did everything she could to avoid that inevitable day, finally putting herself, her husband and her other children at risk.  She had few options. Preparing a basket of papyrus or bulrushes was not ideal.  Actually, that word obscures what is happening here.  Basket is the same word as was used in the book of Genesis for Noah’s ark. It was a vessel with all the connections to preservation, hope, rescuing out of loss and last chance. The Nile River may have been the source of life for Egypt, but it was not a bucolic watershed like Bde Maka Ska or as serene as Lake the Isles. The Nile River teemed with wildlife, hippos and lions and water snakes and the fearsome Nile Crocodile. It was certainly not a safe place to leave an unprotected baby even amidst the bulrushes close to the water’s edge. But when Jochebed “could hide him no longer,” she brought him to the river, and desperately placed him into the ark in one last selfless act to preserve and protect his life.  She took a chance.

Then came the miraculous turn in the story. Pharaoh’s daughter, a princess, came down to the river to bathe. Now they had bathing pools in the royal palace of the Pharaoh, but the Nile River was seen as a sacred place, and bathing in the Nile was most likely an act of worship. Even more the Nile River was a symbol of Hapi, the God of fertility. Perhaps this princess was considered barren and praying for a child, and then suddenly she saw the ark and found the baby. Almost as a sign a gift from the gods, she was ready to receive the child as her own. She took a chance.

We then turn to the third brave woman Miriam. Some scholars want to minimize the wonder of this story.  They would say that the baby’s older sister Miriam anticipated that the Princess was going to come down to the River and that this was all a brilliant strategy.  Others state that  Miriam was merely hiding the baby there during the Egyptian soldier’s daily searches and that she would retrieve him by night to care for him. Surely, that might seem plausible, but a terrible, risky plan none the less.

I believe the wonder of this story is three-fold; that a brave mother prepared a papyrus ark for an illegal escape, that  an Egyptian Princess who should have been cautious of a Hebrew child, and fearful of her father’s anger was touched by the child’s crying, and that a protective sister dared to speak to a princess. The Pharoh’s daughter knew that her father had ordered the slaying of the newly born Hebrew boys, but the baby touched her heart. That is part of the miracle as well. The privileged daughter of the Pharaoh felt compassion for him, and his plight. The baby’s older sister, Miriam thinking quickly on her feet, bravely suggested that she could find a Hebrew mother to nurse the child for her.  In front of the Princess’ handmaidens and servants, she spoke, and to the surprise of Miriam, and all who were present, the Pharaoh’s daughter said, “Yes.”  The mother who had just made the hardest decision of her life was given back her baby boy again… and she was paid for it.  Of course, the cost was high. Jochebed lost her son a second time to another mother. But as much as that hurt, what a joy it was to see her son return from the ark alive.

When the child grew up, and was no longer nursing, Jochebed brought him back to the Pharaoh’s daughter, and she took him as her own son. She named him Moses because she said, “I drew him out of the water.”  The name Moses was a common Egyptian name. It means simply “son”  or “child.”  It can be found in many Egyptian names, most famously the Pharaoh Rameses…. Ra-moses… Son of Ra. Interestingly, the name Moses sounds like Moshe, which means “draw out” in Hebrew… or even “one who draws out” which can also be translated as the “Deliverer.”  The name captured his identity. His name was literally Egyptian but sounded like Hebrew. He was Hebrew but grew up dressing and sounding Egyptian. And his name foreshadowed his role in God’s plan of salvation for his people- the deliverer of his people. How tragically the story of Moses would have ended, if these three brave women had not played their part.

Sadly, families and children experience senseless tragedies everyday.  In many corners of the world, loving parents have few choices to preserve and protect the their children then to place them into papyrus arks and pray for the best.  200 years ago, the families of those who boarded the Restauration in Stavanger, Norway and said their sad farewells, prayed their children would make it safely to the new land where they could begin a new life.  They prayed that God would protect and preserve them.

As I consider the countless tragedies of life, I marvel at how often a word of hope spoken, or an act of brave kindness shown, at just the right moment by a person of faith, made all the difference.  In the Book of Romans, St. Paul writes, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”  We may not be able to see God’s plan… but when we know and trust that he only desires good for his beloved children, then we can dare to lift up our voices, and take a chance and speak out on behalf of those whose pain and trauma is great.

My friends, for nearly 2000 years, the ship has been a symbol of God’s loving and saving presence, and we’re in this boat together. So for the sake of the world, and the protection and preservation of all life, especially God’s beloved children everywhere, let us dare to be more like Jochebed, Miriam, and the Pharaoh’s daughter, and work together, for good. Amen.

May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.