The need to know Yahweh
Have you ever been watching a movie or bingeing a TV show, and just as the plot thickens—just as it’s getting good—you’re interrupted by what feels like a pointless commercial?
Right when the tension rises…
Right when the hero is about to act…
Cue the ad about auto parts, heartburn relief, or a medication with a side effect list longer than your grocery receipt.
It feels unnecessary. Annoying. Like it’s in the way of what really matters.
But here’s the truth: those commercials are what make the regular programming possible.
In Book of Exodus chapter 6, we hit what feels like a commercial break. The story of Israel’s deliverance is building. Moses has confronted Pharaoh. The stage is set. God is about to show Egypt who the true King is.
And then… the story pauses.
For names.
God’s name.
Moses’ family name.
A genealogy that feels like it interrupts the action.
But this “commercial” is anything but pointless.
A New Name at a Critical Moment
In Exodus 6:2–3, God tells Moses:
“I am the LORD.”
In Hebrew, that name is often rendered Yahweh—sometimes pronounced Yahweh, Jehovah, or Adonai. Earlier in Israel’s story, God was known as El Shaddai, often translated “God Almighty.”
But Jewish tradition suggests El Shaddai carries the idea of “the God who says ‘Enough.’” The One who sets limits. The One who restrains chaos. The One who tells the expanding cosmos, “This far and no further.”
Up to this point, God had been known primarily for what He doesn’t allow.
Now, in Exodus 6, He introduces Himself in a new way:
“I am Yahweh.”
Or, more literally: “I AM.”
Or even: “I will be.”
This is not just a name. It’s a promise.
The God Who Says, “I Will”
In Exodus 6:6–8, God makes a series of “I will” statements:
I will bring you out.
I will rescue you.
I will redeem you.
I will take you as my people.
I will be your God.
I will bring you into the land.
I will give it to you as a possession.
Notice what He does not say.
Not “I might.”
Not “I could.”
Not “I’ll try.”
He says, “I will.”
These verses are the building blocks of the gospel. They echo forward into the New Testament:
Epistle to the Galatians 1:4 — Jesus rescues us from this present age.
Epistle to the Ephesians 1:7 — In Christ we have redemption through His blood.
First Epistle of John 3:1 — We are called children of God.
First Epistle of Peter 1:4 — We have an imperishable inheritance kept in heaven.
Rescue.
Redemption.
Relationship.
Inheritance.
This is who Yahweh is. The God who says, “I will.”
Our Problem: “I Can’t”
Here’s the tension.
While God is focused on what He will do, we are often focused on what we can’t do.
That’s exactly what Moses does.
After hearing God’s promises, Moses responds, essentially:
“What if they don’t listen? I’m not a good speaker.”
God says, “I will.”
Moses says, “I can’t.”
Sound familiar?
We doubt God most when we doubt ourselves.
We look at our past.
Our mistakes.
Our insecurities.
Our failures.
Our “skeletons.”
And we assume those things disqualify us.
The Genealogy Isn’t Random
Then comes the second “commercial break” in Exodus 6—a genealogy.
We learn that Moses’ father, Amram, married his aunt, Jochebed. It’s messy. Complicated. The kind of family history that might make you wince.
Why include that?
Because God is making something crystal clear:
He knew Moses’ family history.
He knew Moses’ past.
He knew about the murder Moses committed in Egypt.
He knew Moses wasn’t the oldest brother.
He knew the baggage.
And He still said, “I will.”
The skeletons in your past do not compare to the promises of your future.
Let me say that again:
The skeletons in your past don’t compare to the promises of your future.
The enemy wants you to live in your “I can’t.”
God invites you to trust His “I will.”
Foreigners, Not Conformers
Part of the rescue God offers isn’t just from sin—it’s from conformity.
We live in a world obsessed with sides, labels, and categories. We’re constantly pressured to choose a camp, pick a team, define ourselves by political, social, or cultural identities.
But Scripture calls us something else:
Foreigners.
Pilgrims.
Citizens of another kingdom.
Yahweh rescues us not only from personal sin, but from being swallowed by the spirit of the age. He redeems us, reshapes us, and reminds us: this world is not your final home.
There is an inheritance coming.
Two Questions to Sit With
As you reflect on Exodus 6, consider these two questions:
1. Where do you need Yahweh’s rescue?
Is it in how you see others?
How you see yourself?
How you engage the world around you?
Where have you conformed instead of stood apart?
2. What skeletons in your past keep you from believing God’s promises?
What whispers “You’re disqualified”?
What keeps you stuck in “I can’t”?
Bring those places into the light.
Because Yahweh—the God who says, “I will”—is patient. He is not shocked by your past. He is not intimidated by your weakness. He is not surprised by your story.
He is the God who rescues.
The God who redeems.
The God who claims you as His own.
The God who secures your inheritance.
The story isn’t interrupted.
It’s being clarified.
And the commercial break is the point.
