余榮輝於二〇二六年八月二十三日在聖馬田堂之講道

A Sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on 23 August 2026 by Wilson Yu

Readings: Exodus 1.8—2.10, Psalm 124, Romans 12.1—8, Matthew 16.13—20

I don’t know whether you like superhero movies. I really like them — Marvel or DC. Most superhero movies follow a similar story. At the beginning, we meet an ordinary person. Then something happens. An accident, an experiment, or destiny gives them special powers. At first, they may not want the responsibility. Then a villain appears. The hero tries to fight but often fails. After some training, encouragement, or personal loss, the hero understands what they must do. Finally, there is the big battle. The hero defeats the villain, saves the world, and justice is done.

I always like to imagine that I have that superpower. I want to be the hero. I want to save the world. I want the villain to be punished and justice to be done.

Recently, my family watched the Tom Holland Spider-Man films again, so my son could refresh his memory before watching the latest one. In Spider-Man: Homecoming, the villain is Adrian Toomes, the Vulture, played by Michael Keaton. I still remember Michael Keaton as Batman in the 1989 and 1992 films. Now Batman has become the villain!

But Adrian Toomes is an interesting villain. He is a businessman with a family. After the alien attack on New York, his company gets a contract to clear up the damage. He invests a lot of money in the work. But then the government, working with Tony Stark (Iron Man), takes over the job. Adrian and his workers lose everything. He is angry. He keeps some alien technology and uses it to make weapons. He becomes the Vulture.

Of course, what he does is wrong. But he is not trying to take over the world. He feels that powerful and rich people have treated him unfairly. He wants to provide for his family and have a chance of a good life. Watching the film again, I felt more sympathy for him. Perhaps that is because, as we get older, we realise that people are more complicated than simply heroes and villains. And perhaps the Bible is like that too.

Today’s Old Testament reading is the familiar story of the Israelites being oppressed in Egypt and the birth of Moses. There are many characters, but I want to put them into three groups.

The first group is Pharaoh and the Egyptians. Pharaoh has power, but Pharaoh also has reasons. He says, “The Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we,” and he worries that if there is a war, the Israelites may join Egypt’s enemies. A king has a duty to protect his country. Governments have to think about national security and protect their citizens. So, Pharaoh’s concern is not completely unreasonable. The problem is that fear changes the way he uses his power.

For many of us from Hong Kong, certain words may sound very familiar: “National security”, “Endangering state security”, “Subversion of state power”. Because of our experience, we may hear those words and immediately become suspicious. We may naturally put ourselves in the story and say, “We are the Israelites. We know what oppression feels like.”

But now we live in Britain. Here we may hear different words: “Protect our borders”, “Take back our country”, “Our people first”, “Charity begins at home”, or from America, “America First”, “Make America Great Again”, “Stopping terrorism”. Depending on our political views, some of these words may sound quite reasonable. Someone in another position may hear them very differently.

So, Exodus asks us an uncomfortable question. It is not only “Is the reason reasonable?” We must also ask: Are the means just? Are they fair? Do they show love? There is nothing wrong with loving our family, caring about our country or wanting security. The danger comes when protecting “us” means that we stop seeing the humanity of “them”.

Look at what happens in Exodus. First, the Israelites are described as a possible threat. Then they are forced to work. Then their lives are made bitter. Then Pharaoh orders the midwives to kill their baby boys. Finally, ordinary Egyptians are told to throw Hebrew boys into the Nile. Fear has gone a very long way.

It is easy for us to point at Pharaoh, but perhaps there is a little Pharaoh in all of us. Most of us are probably more like the ordinary Egyptians. We are busy with work, family, money, children and everyday life. Sometimes it is easier not to ask what is happening to somebody else. We may see ourselves as Israelites because of our experience, but now that we live here, sometimes we are also the Egyptians. Our position can change. So perhaps the question is not only, “Who is Pharaoh today?” Perhaps we should also ask, “Where is Pharaoh in me?”

The second group is the Israelites and Moses. The Israelites are powerless. They are oppressed and waiting for deliverance. Moses is perhaps the most powerless of all. He is only a baby. He cannot fight Pharaoh. He cannot escape. He cannot even keep himself alive. His mother hides him for three months. When she can no longer hide him, she makes a papyrus basket and puts him by the river.

There is something very interesting here. The Hebrew word translated as “basket” is the same one used for Noah’s ark. Noah is carried through the water in an ark and is saved. Moses is also carried through the water in an ark and is saved. Later, this baby who is saved through water will lead the Israelites through water. The basket is placed among the reeds, and later Moses will lead God’s people through the Sea of Reeds, which we usually call the Red Sea. The future deliverer first needs to be delivered.

I think that is important. When I watch Spider-Man, I want to be Spider-Man. When we read Exodus, perhaps we want to be Moses standing bravely in front of Pharaoh. But Moses does not begin as a superhero. Moses begins as the baby in the basket. He needs someone else to save him. And that is true for all of us. We all need deliverance. We all need salvation.

There is something else. The powerless do not always remain powerless. Moses will grow up. He will have authority. The Israelites will eventually become a nation themselves. The person who needs help today may have power tomorrow. Many of us came to Britain as newcomers. We may have needed people to welcome us and help us. But after some years, Britain becomes home. We have jobs. We have homes. Our children grow up here. Some of us become British citizens. Our position changes. Yesterday I needed someone to welcome me. Today perhaps I am the person who decides whether somebody else is welcome. Being powerless in the past does not mean we will always use power well in the future.

The third group is the women: Shiphrah and Puah, the midwives; Moses’ mother; Moses’ sister; and Pharaoh’s daughter. Compared with Pharaoh, they have very little power, but look at what they do.

The midwives refuse. Pharaoh tells them to kill, but they refuse to become part of his plan. Moses’ mother protects. She cannot change the law. She cannot save every child. She saves her child in front of her. Moses’ sister watches and speaks. She sees an opportunity and asks Pharaoh’s daughter one simple question: “Shall I go and get you a nurse?” Pharaoh’s daughter sees and has compassion. She knows Moses is a Hebrew child. She knows what her father has ordered. But when she sees a real baby crying in front of her, she has compassion.

There is a wonderful irony here. Pharaoh orders Hebrew boys to be thrown into the Nile, but his own daughter goes to the Nile and saves one. Pharaoh has great power, but his plan begins to fail because of two midwives, a mother, a young girl and his own daughter. None of them saves the world. None of them knows what will happen next. They simply do what is in front of them. One refuses. One protects. One speaks. One shows compassion. Through their small actions, God begins his great work of deliverance.

So where are we in this story? We like to imagine ourselves as the main character. We want to be the hero. But perhaps Scripture does not ask us to choose which good character we are. Scripture gives us a mirror. Sometimes I may be an Israelite. Sometimes I may be Moses in the basket, needing someone to help me. Sometimes I may be one of the women, with an opportunity to do something good. Sometimes I may be an ordinary Egyptian, too busy with my own life to notice someone else’s suffering. And sometimes there may even be a little Pharaoh in me.

That is why today’s reading from Romans is so important. Paul says, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought to think.” He tells us that one body has many members, and “not all the members have the same function”. We do not all have to be Moses. Shiphrah and Puah did what midwives could do. Moses’ mother did what a mother could do. His sister did what a young girl could do. Pharaoh’s daughter used the position and resources she had. Paul says, “We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us.”

We do not need to be superheroes. We may not be able to change what happens in Hong Kong. We may not be able to change British immigration policy. We cannot stop every war or solve every injustice. But perhaps there is one thing in front of us: one person we can welcome, one person we can listen to, one moment when we should speak, one thing we should refuse to do, one person to whom we can show compassion.

Finally, Psalm 124 reminds us, “Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Because Moses is not really the superhero of Exodus. God is the deliverer. Even Moses first needs to be delivered.

So when we have power, may we use it with justice, fairness and love. When we are powerless, may we remember that God has not forgotten us. And when we think we have very little to offer, may we use whatever gifts and opportunities God has given us.

A mother made a basket. A sister asked a question. Two midwives refused an order. A princess showed compassion to a crying child. None of them knew how important their small actions would become. They simply did the part that was theirs to do.

We do not need to be the superhero. We do not need to be Moses. We simply need to know the part God has given us, faithfully do what is ours to do, and remember: “Our help is in the name of the Lord.”