You can take the redeemed out of Egypt, but man, seems it’s really hard to get Egypt out of the redeemed. That was Israel’s story. Even up to the end. Though the Chaldeans were about to crush them, God’s people refused to say, “Uncle”; instead, they determined to take a stand, and the walking stick they chose to lean on was Egypt. But Egypt, as always, proved again to be a staff of reed.

“And I will cast you [Egypt] out into the wilderness,
       you and all the fish of your streams;
you shall fall on the open field,
       and not be brought together or gathered.
To the beasts of the earth and to the birds of the heavens
       I give you as food.

Then all the inhabitants of Egypt shall know that I am the LORD. Because you have been a staff of reed to the house of Israel, when they grasped you with the hand, you broke and tore all their shoulders; and when they leaned on you, you broke and made all their loins to shake.”

(Ezekiel 29:5-7 ESV)

I’ve always understood Egypt to be a type of the world. That this ancient land of power and prosperity is a picture of the systems, values, and cultures that surround the people of God which really offer nothing more than bondage and slavery. And yet these systems, values, and cultures are so deceptively attractive, that though nothing substantive and lasting comes from Egypt, Egypt always seems to be the place to go back to when the going gets tough. That though it has a certain allure of being a good land of fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, and onions (Numbers 11:5) drawing the freed captive back to it, ultimately it is a distraction and detour from sojourning to a better land, the land of promise.

And you read the prophets and still God’s people had the propensity to look to Egypt for help in time of need. The place you’re tempted to go back to when you’re feeling cornered. Where you ask for help when you’re no longer seeking help from above. But it’s the place, when all is said and done, which is really of very little help and of no eternal value. Egypt, and the worldly systems it represents, are just a staff of reed.

“A flimsy reed crutch”, says the Message. Of no real help. Eventually breaking under the burden. Always a lousy substitute for real strength. That’s what the world is for God’s people.

Something appearing to be of substance, something advertising itself as having the answers, but hollow and with nothing of eternal value to offer. A straw walking stick. Woefully inadequate for the journey.

As if to emphasize the point, the Spirit adds an exclamation mark to this reminder with my reading in John’s letter.

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world — the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life —  is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.

(1John 2:15-17 ESV)

The world is passing away . . . So, for those of us journeying to a better land, “that is, a heavenly one” (Heb. 11:16a), who are looking forward to a city which actually “has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10), why would we hamstring ourselves with a flimsy crutch? Why go back to a land of bondage? Why seek aid from that which is, ultimately, of no help? Why pursue pleasures which, at best, are for a season, but which rob us of laying up treasures which last for eternity?

Do not love the world or the things in the world . . . Don’t be tempted, fooled, or compromised by a flimsy walking stick.

A staff of reed is a poor, sure to fail alternative. Trusting in Egypt, turning back to the world, only brings eventual disaster. How we need to resist the temptation to grasp a hollow cane when, instead, God invites us to “stand on the rock” (Ex. 33:21-22).

By the power of His grace. For the praise of His glory.