Freedom Fighters and the Law: What the Women of Exodus Taught Me

The books of Exodus through Deuteronomy are often viewed as masculine narratives of liberation, law, and leadership. Yet beneath the dominant voices of Moses, Aaron, and the elders is another story pulsing with the fierce presence of women who resisted, intervened, and preserved the sacred promise of freedom. These women, midwives, mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, and leaders did not simply contribute to Israel’s survival; they catalyzed its deliverance.

As a mother of a now 31-year-old daughter and grandmother to two beautiful grandchildren, I do not read these texts as distant history. I read them as echoes of what it means to birth, protect, and nurture life in systems shaped by oppression. These stories remind me of my own call to be a freedom fighter in my family, ministry, and community. They also remind the church that liberation is often carried, protected, and nurtured long before it is publicly proclaimed.

Lesson 1: Deliverance Begins with Defiant Compassion

The first recorded act of resistance in Exodus does not come from Moses but from two Hebrew midwives: Shiphrah and Puah. Pharaoh orders them to kill Hebrew baby boys at birth, but they “feared God” and chose compassion over compliance (Exod. 1:15–21). Israel’s deliverance begins in the hands of two women the empire tried to overlook. These women did not raise swords; they raised standards. Their holy defiance preserved the future of an entire nation.

Jacqueline Lapsley describes their actions as embodying “transgressive values of deliverance,” where women crossed boundaries of ethnicity, class, and gender to resist violence with compassion.[1] Their story reminds me that spiritual warfare does not always look loud or public. Sometimes it looks like refusing to cooperate with injustice.

As a woman in ministry, I think about the many modern midwives still birthing justice today, women tending to life, nurturing hope, and safeguarding destiny in communities shaped by violence, poverty, and despair. The courage of Shiphrah and Puah reminds me that compassion can be an act of resistance.

Surprising Insight: Pharaoh’s Fatal Mistake Was Underestimating Women

Pharaoh commanded the death of boys and spared the girls (Exod. 1:22), assuming power only resided in male bodies. But Exodus reveals something deeper: the empire was undone by the very women it overlooked. Mothers, sisters, midwives, and even Pharaoh’s own daughter became vessels of resistance.

Pharaoh believed liberation could be crushed through violence and control. Yet God began deliverance through overlooked women carrying quiet courage. His regime underestimated the wombs of resistance.

This insight deeply moved me because history continues to repeat itself. Systems still underestimate women, especially Black women, even while depending on our labor, resilience, and wisdom. But Exodus reminds us that God often begins transformation through those the world considers insignificant.

Lesson 2: Women Lead the Movement, Not from the Sidelines but from the Start

Long before Moses parts the sea or receives the stone tablets, women are already moving the mission forward. Jochebed hides her son in a basket (Exod. 2:3). Miriam watches and orchestrates his safety (Exod. 2:4–8). Pharaoh’s daughter defies her father and adopts a Hebrew child. Zipporah circumcises her son and saves Moses’s life when he fails to obey God (Exod. 4:24–26).

These women are not background characters. They are coauthors of deliverance.

Lapsley notes that these women employ “ethics of deception and irony” to preserve life and protect God’s covenant future.[2] Their leadership disrupts narrow assumptions about authority. They lead not through position, but through prophetic participation.

As a mother and grandmother, I resonate deeply with these women. I know what it means to make difficult decisions to protect family, to pray while carrying responsibility, and to move strategically even when no one sees the weight you carry. These women remind me that leadership is not always public. Sometimes leadership looks like protecting life in hidden places until freedom can emerge.

Surprising Insight: Deliverance Was Already in Motion Before Moses Arrived

One of the most powerful revelations for me was realizing that women initiated deliverance before Moses ever stepped fully into leadership. Before the burning bush, before Pharaoh’s court, before the Red Sea, women were already resisting empire.

This reshaped my understanding of ministry. Too often, we only celebrate visible leadership while overlooking the people who sustain movements through hidden acts of courage, prayer, nurturing, organizing, and sacrifice. Exodus reminds us that liberation is rarely carried by one person alone. God builds communities of resistance.

Lesson 3: God’s Law Protects Human Dignity

Deuteronomic laws concerning sexual violence are often misunderstood as oppressive or misogynistic. Yet Deuteronomy 22:25–27 reveals something profoundly important about God’s justice. In this passage, a woman assaulted in a field is presumed innocent, while the man is condemned: “you shall do nothing to the young woman” (v. 26).

Sandra Richter explains that these laws were intended not to shame women, but to protect the vulnerable and preserve communal justice.[3] In a world where many ancient legal systems treated women as disposable property, this legal framework recognized the dignity of victims and demanded accountability from perpetrators.

As someone who mentors women carrying invisible wounds and private grief, this passage transformed my understanding of biblical justice. God’s justice is not about punishing victims but purging evil. The law, in its divine intention, seeks to preserve life, dignity, and covenant identity.

The gospel we preach must not only save souls. It must also protect bodies, restore dignity, and cultivate communities where the vulnerable are safe.

Surprising Insight: Holiness and Justice Cannot Be Separated

Madeline McClenney-Sadler notes that Leviticus 19 stands at the theological center of the Torah and calls God’s people to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18).[4] Holiness, therefore, is not merely ritual purity. It is relational faithfulness expressed through justice, mercy, and communal responsibility.

This challenged me deeply. Too often, holiness is reduced to outward behavior while neglecting the call to defend the vulnerable and confront injustice. But Scripture refuses to separate worship from advocacy. If our worship never moves us toward justice, then our altars become performative rather than transformative.

As a grandmother, I want my grandchildren to grow up in a church that teaches them not only how to pray, but also how to love, protect, and stand courageously for others.

Conclusion: Reimagining Law, Leadership, and Liberation

The women of Exodus through Deuteronomy are more than figures in ancient history. They are architects of deliverance, guardians of covenant promise, and midwives of freedom. Their stories stir something deep within me because I see their resilience reflected in the lives of women today, women carrying families, sustaining communities, leading ministries, and resisting systems designed to silence them.

For the church, their witness is a reminder that liberation is often nurtured long before it is proclaimed. For ministry, they teach us that leadership is not confined to titles or platforms. For families, they remind us that motherhood and caregiving are sacred spaces where courage, faith, and freedom are formed.

May we rise like them.
May we speak like them.
May we birth liberation like them.

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash.

Notes

[1] Jacqueline E. Lapsley, Whispering the Word: Hearing Women’s Stories in the Old Testament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), 81–85.

[2] Lapsley, Whispering the Word, 88–89.

[3] Sandra L. Richter, “Does God Really Command Women to Marry Their Rapists? A Study of Deuteronomic Law,” in The Biblical World of Gender: The Daily Lives of Ancient Women and Men, ed. Celina Durgin and Dru Johnson (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2022), 61–64.

[4] Madeline McClenney-Sadler, “Leviticus,” in The Africana Bible: Reading Israel’s Scriptures from Africa and the African Diaspora, ed. Hugh R. Page Jr. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2010), 89–91.