Moses, seeing his brethren oppressed, intervenes to save them from their enemies with temporary effect; but when he further tries to save them from themselves, they scornfully reject him. Consequently he retires into Midian amongst the Gentiles, There he finds others suffering injustice and oppression, and defends them: undaunted by the previous discouragements. Opening to them the resources of the well, he wooer and wins Zipporah; after which he returns afresh to redeem Israel: this time he is received and submitted to. All this is obviously typical of the rejection of the Messiah by the Jews, and His consequent work since amongst the Gentiles, where He receives the church as His bride, and assumes relationships and responsibilities in respect of her family and her children (the Gentile remnant of Rev. 7), returning afterward with her to save His Jewish people.
Zipporah typifies the bride in the adversity of the wilderness—the church militant; as Asenath, Joseph's wife, typifies the church triumphant in the future glory. Asenath is a kind of additional luster to her husband; but Zipporah is much the reverse—a hindrance and a discredit to him, a source of danger and sorrow; besides which she is murmuring and ungrateful, continually misunderstanding him—took him at first to be an Egyptian! When we hear of a king Cophetua wedding a beggar maid, or a Duke Chandos rescuing the wife of a groom from his blows and subsequently marrying her, and other instances of that kind of event embodied in the myth of Cinderella, we first think of the romantic side of the transaction, and admire the chivalrous devotion that has been shown; but reflection compels us to admit that the inconveniences of such mésalliances are enormous and continuous. Though love smiles at them, prudence recognizes them: they are not to be ignored. But there is nothing that a just and wise man like Moses could do under the circumstances, except maintain patience and silence. He should have foreseen, and did foresee, all that at the beginning; it was part of the sacrifice he had to make. Then there is this to be said in regard to Zipporah—that when she met the Hebrew ruler, his glories were obscured; he was a homeless outcast; and it was then she received him in love and faith. We may be sure he never forgot this. Now all that is manifestly typical of the church. Zipporah means “little bird;” whether by design or not, the name suggests the same blending of contrary thoughts—pathetic suggestions of weakness and waywardness; yet also of a nature belonging to the heavenly places; and of affection and divine care.
For the purpose of redemption God reveals Himself from Horeb. Consider the position from which He speaks: a judge's attitude and words would be wholly different, when sitting on some committee to relieve the poor, from that which it would be when sitting on the bench to declare the law or punish criminals. Sinai is the throne of judgment: Horeb is the throne of grace. They are distinct mountain summits in the same range: Horeb (Ras Safsefah) being much lower and more accessible than Sinai (Mousa) the rugged and imposing mountain of the law. This is now pretty well established; but it is strange how general has been the tendency to regard them as the same place; just as men usually confuse law and grace. It is at Horeb alone the bush can be burnt without being consumed; there is to be held the great assembly of the redeemed, the Bride, Gentile, and Israel, being grouped round the Redeemer. Hither also came Elijah when he wanted to surrender his charge; and here he found that God was not to be found in fire, tempest, or earthquake, but in the still small voice. The voice on Sinai was very different.
The Seer looks on all things with eyes that pierce through the mere outward shell, and discern the vital and spiritual meaning; not like the “dumb driven cattle,” who “have eyes and see not,” except what lies on the surface. This principle affects all sides of life. When the lady said to Turner that she could see no colors similar to his in nature, the great painter replied, “Don't you wish, madam, that you could?” He could see them—could see all the gorgeous hues of the sunset in a bit of wet stone. Bruce could see how to win a battle, and Solomon how to live in king's palaces, by looking at a spider; as another learned how to build a bridge over the Tweed by looking at a spider's web. Young Watt's aunt could see nothing but steam coming out of the kettle that she chid him for watching so continually; but he could see how to develop a more stupendous power from thence, than that monstrous genie whom the fabled fisherman let out of the little box, and who grew till he rose athwart the whole sky.
As a philosophic Kirchoff can by the lines in the spectrum tell us what the sun's flame is composed of—by holding a piece of triangular glass to a ray of light coming through a hole in a shutter, discern what are the materials that form the distant worlds; so Gideon looking upon a bit of wet fleece, or Moses viewing a burning bush can tell us the nature of those spiritual worlds which no telescope has power to reach—can tell us the very thoughts that live and shine from the heart of their Creator.