And what, let me ask, was "the king's commandment" to one who was in possession of this heaven-born principle? What weight had that commandment with one who could calmly stand beside her "ark of bulrushes" and look death straight in the face? The Holy Ghost replies, "They were not afraid of the king's commandment." The spirit that knows aught of communion with Him who quickens the dead, is not afraid of anything. Such an one can take up the triumphant language of 1 Cor. xv., and say, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." He can give forth these words of triumph over a martyred Abel; over Joseph in the pit; over Moses in the ark of bulrushes; in the midst of "the seed royal," slain by the hand of Athaliah; amid the babes of Bethlehem, murdered by the hand of the cruel Herod; and far above all, he can utter them at the tomb of the Captain of our salvation.
Now, it may be there are some who cannot trace the activities of faith, in the matter of the ark of bulrushes. Many may not be able to travel beyond the measure of Moses' sister, when "she stood afar off, to wit what would be done to him." It is very evident that "his sister" was not up to "the measure of faith" possessed by "his mother." No doubt she possessed deep interest and true affection, such as we may trace in "Mary Magdalene and the other Mary sitting over against the sepulchre" (Matt. xxvii. 61.); but there was something far beyond either interest or affection in the maker of the "ark." True, she did not "stand afar off, to wit what would be done to" her child, and hence, what frequently happens, the dignity of faith might seem like indifference, on her part. It was not, however, indifference, but true elevation--the elevation of faith. If natural affection did not cause her to linger near the scene of death, it was only because the power of faith was furnishing her with nobler work in the presence of the God of resurrection. Her faith had cleared the stage for Him, and most gloriously did He show Himself thereon.
"And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river; and her maidens walked along by the river's side: and when she saw the ark among the flags, she sent her maid to fetch it. And when she had opened it, she saw the child; and, behold, the babe wept. And she had compassion on him, and said, 'This is one of the Hebrews' children.'" Here, then, the divine response begins to break, in sweetest accents, on the ear of faith. God was in all this. Rationalism, or scepticism, or infidelity, or atheism, may laugh at such an idea. And faith can laugh also; but the two kinds of laughter are very different. The former laughs, in cold contempt, at the thought of divine interference in the trifling affair of a royal maiden's walk by the river's side: the latter laughs, with real heartfelt gladness, at the thought that God is in everything. And, assuredly, if ever God was in anything, He was in this walk of Pharaoh's daughter, though she knew it not.