Tuesday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Pharaoh’s daughter came down to the river to bathe,

while her maids walked along the river bank.
Noticing the basket among the reeds, she sent her handmaid to fetch it.
On opening it, she looked, and lo, there was a baby boy, crying!

As beginnings go the birth of Moses is less than auspicious. Doesn’t the greatest figure in Jewish history deserve a royal birth amid trumpets blare, cymbals clash and tympani rolls? Shouldn’t there be signs in the heavens and magnitude 8 earthquakes? Any Hollywood movie can do better than Exodus 1 to signal the birth of the hero. But here is our baby hero helplessly drifting through the marshy reeds of the Nile River.

We might expect a little more heavenly excitement but God doesn’t appear with the birth of Moses; only the eye of faith can see his hand. When Moses’ sister “stationed herself at a distance” I’m sure the pharaoh’s daughter saw through the ruse and knowingly appointed the child’s own mother as his nurse. There was nothing rare about that.

But people of faith don’t need spectacular signs to discern the hand of God. When we get deeper into Exodus the pharaoh will need some hard persuasion. The plagues will begin as a contest between two gods, YHWH and Pharaoh, but the Jewish God will immediately overwhelm the Egyptian; even as, in a later contest, Michael overwhelms the sky dragon.

The faithful prefer discrete signs. We love the Eucharist, the simple sharing of bread and wine – and tiny portions at that. We enjoy baptism with a few drops of water, and anointing with a dab of oil. Forgiveness is demonstrated with a gesture and a few words. The Sacrament of Marriage is consummated in secrecy, behind closed doors.

These signs are more reassuring than the spectacular displays of Hindu mythology, the special effects of Hollywood, or the cosmic cataclysms of Dell Comics. As we contemplate the majesty of the sacraments year after year in tranquil prayers, our vision expands. We see God in the most common and ordinary events, even in the courage of little girls who watch over their baby brothers.