13th Sunday after Pentecost, 27 August 2023, Proper 16:Exodus 1:8-2:10; Psalm 124; Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20
The women of Egypt participated in quiet resistance against Pharaoh. Upset by the fertility and competence of the Israelites, a new pharaoh “who did not know Joseph” oppressed them, and made them do heavy work: they built cities, and constantly added oppression. No matter what was done, the Israelites multiplied, and the Egyptians were “ruthless” in their oppression.
Finally, the pharaoh ordered that all boys born to the Israelites should be killed. The midwives were to kill the babies. The midwives “feared God” and resisted. When questioned, they asserted that the Hebrew women gave birth so quickly they couldn’t get there in time. Then it was not just the midwives ordered to kill Hebrew boys, but all Egyptians: the boys should be thrown into the Nile.
Moses’ mother hid him for three months, but then could hide him no longer. She built a basket with papyrus, lined with pitch and bitumen so it would not sink. And she hid it among the reeds on the side of the river, apparently choosing a place where she knew it would be found. She has her daughter watch to see what happened.
As it happens, the basket was found by Pharaoh’s daughter, bathing in the river. She knew the baby was a Hebrew boy; when Moses’ sister appears, she offers to find a wet nurse for the baby. Pharaoh’s daughter pays Moses’ mother to feed him “until he grew up”.
Everyone knows what is happening but no one says. The midwives are resisting Pharaoh’s orders, but so is his daughter. Moses’ mother must have known that she had left the basket in a spot frequented by Pharaoh’s daughter, who in turn must have known that the baby’s mother was caring for him. Layers of unspoken knowledge, and silent collaboration against oppression.
Jesus asks explicitly about knowledge: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter (whose name in Aramaic is “kēpā”), recognizes Jesus as “The Messiah, the Son of the living God”. Jesus then says Peter has been given this knowledge from “my Father in heaven”. He proceeds to tell Peter that he would be the rock (also “kēpā” in Aramaic) on which the Church would be built. The disciples, however, are told not to tell anyone Jesus’ true identity. Some people know, but they cannot say.
Knowledge, we often say, is power. But knowledge can also be dangerous. We make choices about what information we share with whom. The knowledge of how they resisted was so dangerous that Hebrew and Egyptian women never acknowledged what they were doing. Jesus knew that his life was in danger, so warned his followers of the need for silence.
Tomorrow is the 60th anniversary of the March on Washington. Part of what happened in the Civil Rights movement was a refusal of silence: the harms of segregation and racism were named. People spoke up. Shared speech created new communities of knowledge. It mattered.
When do we keep silent? Why? Is it to protect others? Or to protect our reputation? Are there times when our silence harms others rather than protecting them? Knowledge is power. Sometimes we must keep silent, and sometimes we must speak.