Exodus 1:8–21 – Shiphrah and Puah

Grace be with us all—from our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

Dear congregation,

“When the weight of the world becomes too much to bear”—yes, in such moments, prayer becomes a deep well of strength. Today we hear the story of two women: Shiphrah and Puah. They were Hebrew midwives living in Egypt, among thousands of their fellow Israelites. The weight of the world pressed heavily upon them. The king of Egypt, Pharaoh, made an inhuman demand of them.

Let us hear the reading: Exodus 1:8–21

8 Then a new king, who knew nothing of Joseph, came to power in Egypt.

9 He said to his people, “Look, the Israelites have become far too numerous and powerful for us.

10 Come, we must deal shrewdly with them, or they will become even more numerous. And if war breaks out, they will join our enemies, fight against us, and leave the country.”

11 So they put slave masters over them to oppress them with forced labour, and they built Pithom and Rameses as store cities for Pharaoh.

12 But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread; so the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites

13 and worked them ruthlessly.

14 They made their lives bitter with harsh labour in brick and mortar and with all kinds of work in the fields; in all their harsh labour the Egyptians worked them ruthlessly.

15 The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah,

16 “When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.”

17 The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live.

18 Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?”

19 The midwives answered Pharaoh, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.”

20 So God was kind to the midwives, and the people increased and became even more numerous.

21 And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families of their own. 

This is indeed a heavy burden in the world: rulers—presidents, kings, leaders—who are afraid that their power may one day come to an end. It is a burden when people conceive of things that are inhuman. It is a burden when violence fills entire communities with fear and dread.

The Pharaoh’s wicked command is more than a burden—it is a crushing weight placed on the shoulders of two women. Midwives, by definition, are there to help life enter the world. Their calling is to ensure that babies are born safely and welcomed into an atmosphere of love.

Can we imagine the shock they must have felt? What was being asked of them was unthinkable.

They are not the only ones in history faced with such impossible moral choices. In fact, every one of us faces decisions like this—though often more subtle—in our everyday lives. The world demands many things of us that, as Christians, we should neither do nor accept. Shiphrah and Puah encourage us not simply to follow what is expected of us, or what we assume is expected. They remained faithful to their calling.

Imagine how they must have trembled when summoned to the king. What would he demand? This mighty ruler sought to use these two ordinary women for his cruel purposes—to betray their own people, their own communities—because he was afraid.

The same old pattern: fear that those who are different might grow stronger. This Pharaoh was ignorant of history. A king without memory. “What does the past matter?” he might have thought. “Surely it’s time we stop going on about it.” Dismiss the old stories—they're just a burden. What does it matter how our country became what it is?

Such forgetfulness is dangerous. This story shows how perilous it is when rulers erase the past. That is why it is vital that our faith is rooted in remembrance—a faith that always remembers God as the beginning and the fulfilment of all things.

Shiphrah and Puah had been brought up in this faith, trusting a God who is present, who is there, who is bound to their history.

And then comes the line that shapes the entire story:

“But the midwives feared God and did not do as they were told.”

I don’t think this means they feared God more than they feared Pharaoh, as if their terror had merely shifted. Rather, it speaks of a profound reverence—a holy awe for the God who gives life and delivers people. That is how they knew their God.

They remembered the story: how Joseph, one of their ancestors, had been in Egypt. Joseph had seen how God preserved life. Joseph had seen that evil could be overcome, that good could grow even from betrayal. Sold by his brothers, he rose to power and saved his people during famine. His family sought refuge in Egypt. They were asylum seekers—fleeing hunger—and were welcomed.

For a time, they lived in peace, until someone saw an opportunity to exploit their vulnerability. Until someone forgot they were human. Until fear took root, and someone worried that these people might grow too numerous—and fight back.

And what would have been the simplest solution? Pharaoh could have treated them fairly. Could have welcomed them as equals, given them a place in society, and they would have served him loyally. But Pharaoh didn’t care. He did what he wanted, regardless of the consequences. The suffering of others meant nothing to him.

But the midwives did care. Their hearts were moved by compassion. Their reverence for life gave them strength. They trusted in the God who preserves life—and so they let the children live.

What a testimony! Here are women who stood alongside the vulnerable and protected them. The defenceless newborns—those who could not yet fight for themselves—these women shielded them.

And when Pharaoh summoned them, they used his own logic to confound him: “These women are strong.” Strong women—and life went on.

What do you feel when you hear this story? Does your reverence for God give you the courage to say “no”? To resist what the world pressures us to accept—just to avoid losing out?

These two women knew their values. They knew what truly mattered. There was no “yes, but...” There was a clear focus on what God meant to them.

In their relationship with God, they found the strength to resist.

Through prayer—they must have prayed, surely!—short cries to God as they stood before the king, long quiet prayers as they sought wisdom for how to respond.

They would have practised surrender—letting go of self-preservation, letting go of their own safety, and entrusting their way to God.

They surely gave thanks for every boy who survived, for every birth that went unnoticed by the authorities. They praised God.

The power of prayer—it becomes visible here.

The strength to live in this world without being ruled by it.

It becomes clear how life is protected when people love God and remain connected to Him.

May such stories be told again and again. And may we remember them—and keep them in our hearts.And may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.