12. Jethro

12. Jethro

My future’s tied to heaven with chords of love
They are taut with hope 
J Biggin

Jethro. He was a man known by seven names, which is a little excessive, but the main one we have come to know him by means excellence, or abundance. In my imagination he is wizened and sprightly, like an Arabic Gandalf the Grey with dark velvety eyes crinkled by many years of laughter and sunshine. There’s no way of knowing how old he really was when we meet him in the Torah, or if my mental image does him justice.  We read he had a lot of children, at least seven grown up daughters, which from experience I’m guessing would age a person somewhat.

He’s been on my mind this week, Jethro. I was pondering the younger people in my life. Conversations we have late at night remind me how deeply we all long for older and wiser fellow-travellers who help us remember our inner compass, resetting our course and cheering us on. Elders I guess. So I was examining myself and asking whether I’ll grow into that kind of compass, that kind of Elder. One with laughter crinkled eyes. I know that older isn’t the same as Elder so I need to set my course. 

A time comes when you need to stop waiting for the man you want to become and start being the man you want to be. 
Bruce Springsteen

Stop waiting. Start being. I’ve always loved the relationship between Moses and Jethro-the-elder, so I figured a good place to start being is to journey with them a while.

I engage my imagination with the Word and as the Spirit kisses my forehead I turn to Exodus 2. I see Jethro in his tent. He’s alone. The girls are out collecting water and tending to the sheep and they’ll be gone awhile. His soundtrack is the ebb and flow of people talking and animals responding. The noise of children playing flows like bright ribbons through it all and Jethro takes a moment to breathe in the peace of the morning. I see the Spirit is here and it is good. Suddenly Jethro turns his head as a new sound joins the symphony, at once familiar and different. The girls are back, early, and the high pitch of their voices suggests they have a tale to tell their Abba. 

He sighs, but it’s a happy sound, and squinting steps out of the tent. Here they are, laughing and running towards him, “Abba! Guess what happened…!” The story tumbles out clumsily, but he catches the drift. Shepherds from a neighbouring tribe were harassing his girls, again, and things could’ve gotten ugly. Their intentions were interrupted by the arrival of a young stranger, a city boy by the look of him, who was up for a fight. The shock of his appearing was enough for the other boys to leave, and this young man helped the girls finish their tasks. What a morning! Jethro hushed the girls, asking where their rescuer was, and why they hadn’t brought him back to meet their grateful Abba. Chagrined, the younger girls are sent back to find him.  

So the young man Moses is embraced by a Midianite family, joining one of the seven in marriage, and tending Jethro’s sheep. Moses, a foreigner, an asylum seeker, a stranger, now has a home. A place to be faithful in the little things and grow up.

Jethro may be a Midianite priest, but to me he is a priest of Yahweh. With open arms, open heart and open mind he is the Jesus Moses needs.

Some happy years later Moses has a bush-on-fire encounter with God. He must break the news to Jethro that he will be leaving for a while to lead the rescue of his tribe. Jethro blesses Moses in his obedience to God. He blesses the boy despite the cost to him and his daughters. When he hears the news that Moses’ obedience has resulted in the deliverance of a nation he packs up his daughter and grandsons to go meet Moses and his birth family at the mountain of God. Jethro rocks. Bags packed they make a journey to meet a strange people, and reconnect with the man who became their family who is now a leader of another tribe.

 Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes! Turn and face the strange
Just gonna have to be a different man 
David Bowie.

The reunion between Jethro and Moses in Exodus 18 is beautiful. Kisses, embraces and stories flow between them. Yahweh is honoured and the old man centres the celebration around the God he resembles. The next morning he sees the stretch in the man he knew as son. He sees the groaning, complaining, blood-relatives requiring time and leadership. He counsels Moses to seek out leaders of the people and share the burden. Moses listens to the Elder and Jethro leaves. He has a home to return to and Moses has a people to lead. 

I love Jethro. He was a leader of a tribe, but he was ready to welcome a stranger. He was part of a religious system but could recognise and step into a move of God. He was old but ready to travel. He was wise and willing to defend those he loved. He was ready with encouragement and the humility needed to learn from those younger than him. He had a quick ear for a story and a heart for liberation. He knew when to step back. 

I wonder why Jethro seems so at ease with change. Why there is no fear in his responses. How he can be so ready to move into what God is saying next. His are the shoes I’d like to grow into. I’ll start wearing them now, even though they are a little big. He walks a way of excellence that leads to abundance, a richness of relationship. Jethro reminds me I have an inner compass, one set to the north star, Jesus the Christ. So I set my course toward becoming the mature son creation is waiting for. I set my sights on Romans 8.

I tie myself to the mast
For the storms ahead.
Whatever it is I face
I will keep you in my gaze
Though the seas are rough and distractions fall like waves
I look to the heavens, to the stars for the way. 
J Biggin

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