Monday 9 August 2010

ABR#12 Exodus

I have begun to read the Bible alphabetically (see here for my rationale), reading each book at least three times and trying to get into the mind of the original author and readers as well as listen to God’s message for today. Here’s what I’ve discovered from reading Exodus.

Leaving Egypt

As a narrative it’s a bit messy. The early episodes are snapshots within a larger history, and they don’t always hang together with complete logic. For example a) After the burning bush, a second call takes place when Moses returns to Egypt. b) A big deal is made of the threat to Hebrew male babies, yet Aaron (3 years older than Moses) seems to have survived without much problem. c) There’s a strange episode where God tries to kill Moses and his wife Zipporah saves him in some unclear way. d) If disease killed all the animals, why were some animals left to suffer from boils or hail?

Some changes take place slowly: Moses is extremely reluctant to be God’s spokesman and only gradually takes leadership. The slaves’ treatment in Egypt gets worse due to Moses stirring things up. The King reluctantly concedes different parts of the request (“You can stay in this country and worship”; “You can go but not too far or for too long”; “The men can go but leave your wives and children behind”; “The people can go but leave your animals”) but Moses sticks out for everyone leaving on a three-day journey (and in any case the King remains stubborn even after making some concessions.)

Perhaps this slow approach was necessary because the change was so massive. The Israelites didn’t like cruelty but that didn’t mean they wanted to uproot and leave the country. After all, they had homes, they possessed livestock, they weren’t destitute. But God had something greater in mind – not just freedom from oppression but a new home, their own land, a ruler who would be their God as well as their King. Perhaps the plagues and turmoil was as much to prepare the Israelites for leaving as it was to motivate the Egyptians to let their workforce go.

The story continues to be a little disjointed in places: a) The Passover and the crossing of the Red Sea, where ‘current’ events are mixed with laws about the feast and songs of celebration. In places it seems as if there have been different accounts (or even different types of account such as historical narrative and ritual instructions) woven together. b) There are references to the wind blowing back the sea to reveal dry land and to walls of water on either side, which conjure up two different images, one dramatic and miraculous the other more like a receding tide. c) One element of the Passover is purposefully ridding the house of yeast and avoiding anything fermented, but then there is the story of people being driven out of Egypt unexpectedly (as if they didn’t expect even this final plague to make a difference) and having to grab the bread which had not yet had chance to rise. On the journey they pause to bake it (portable ovens?!) even though it is unrisen.

Unlike some modern story structures which spend most of the time outlining the suffering of the hero and his oppressed people, and only resolve things near the end with a heroic rescue and the oppressors getting their come-uppance, Exodus outlines the suffering quite briefly and concentrates on the come-uppance at much greater length.

Receiving the Law

Exodus is a book of two halves. One big event in Israel’s history was their departure from Egypt. Another huge event was their encounter with God at Mount Sinai where He began to hand down a long list of commandments for them to live by, beginning with the familiar ten.

According to David Pawson each tablet held the full set of ten commandments – i.e. the contract was written out in duplicate, one for each party. This is a nice idea, but if true wouldn’t they have been kept separately? His summary of the ‘community’ laws being about respect, responsibility and retribution were more helpful

The early laws try to establish sensible rules for when people should be punished and when not – e.g. killing a burglar would be OK at night, presumably because you couldn’t see what you were doing, but not by day. This is no doubt better than anarchy, but still the rules are very harsh by our standards, such as the death penalty for hitting or cursing a parent. Many laws are about property, and payments made by way of reparation.

God then moves on to instructions for the manufacture of the ark, the tent, all the furnishings, the clothes for the priests etc. After the incident of the gold bull and having to start again with new tablets, there are equally long descriptions of how all the above were actually made. Why do we get essentially the same thing in two forms (‘God said do this’ / ‘they did it’)? Is it that two accounts have been put together? (in which case my impression is that they match in detail very closely – though I have not thoroughly checked on this.) Is it that the writer was a stickler for detail and liked to have everything spelled out twice? Is it that the writer is taking us step by step through the way that God’s instructions were obeyed to emphasise that they were followed in every detail? Is it to do with the pace of the narrative, because a summary like ‘they did everything God commanded’ wouldn’t allow the reader to live through the process of their actually doing it? Whatever the reason these are not the most gripping sections for the modern reader.

The initial laws seem different from the later. Straight after the ten commandments there are some brief instructions about how to build an altar – keep it simple, make it of earth, if you must use stones use natural uncut stones – then lots of laws about slaves, property, injury and compensation. Then Moses builds an altar, splatters blood against it and over the people, and goes up the mountain again with seventy elders where they all see God and survive. I can’t help thinking that what comes next – detailed instructions for a rich and elaborate worship area – must come from a different tradition. Perhaps the way to reconcile the two is to see the former altar as the everyday local or domestic place of worship and the latter as the one-off central and significant symbol of God’s glorious presence.

The laws are tricky to apply to the Christian lifestyle, partly because some are to do with the way society is run and justice is meted out (passing judgement on those who have allowed a borrowed animal to die is not part of my everyday experience) and partly because the whole system of worship (Passover, tabernacle, priestly clothing) is not the way we do things in church. It is the principles behind these laws which are more helpful in understanding how to create a just society and how to worship God.

The Whole Book

If you didn’t know the rest of the Bible story, how would this come across? – a persecuted people, the underclass, get their revenge on a cruel nation via their God who appoints a leader (and deputy) in Moses (and Aaron) – God is not just interested in freeing his people but in making Egypt suffer for their cruelty (killing Hebrew babies, setting impossible targets for their slave labour) – hence a series of plagues which ruin the Egyptian economy, destroy livestock and lives, followed by the death of the army – but the people are not out of the woods yet, they have to overcome natural hardships such as hunger and thirst, and again their God miraculously provides – finally they have to face up to their own behaviour – how can they live godly and pure lives? – and once more their God takes charge and issues a series of basic rules, plus a whole raft of detailed rules – which they at first spectacularly fail to keep and have to make a new commitment.

Does this work as a book in its own right, rather than one of a series? Certainly it has a proper beginning and end. It starts with a brief reminder of Israel’s family settling into Egypt, moves swiftly on to their troubles, the birth and call of their rescuer, Moses, all the dramatic signs and wonders which accompanied their escape from slavery to freedom. Once Egypt (thoroughly beaten) is left behind a new phase starts: the establishing of a law to guide them, and (after a few hiccups) the completion of an elaborate place of worship and accompanying priesthood. It ends with true worship (not of the false calf) taking place, and the glory of God filling this portable place of worship. The ‘happy ending’ is that he remained a constant presence and guide as they moved on into whatever the future held.

Some parts do not portray a loving God – the total defeat of Egypt (was it necessary to cause them so much suffering in order to get Israel free?) – the command to drive out the nations when they arrive in the promised land, and the assurance that God would help them succeed – the Levites’ demonstration of their commitment to God by killing thousands of fellow Israelites including their own families. Do we put this down to the attitude of the storyteller in an age when tribal warfare was common? Do we regard it as just the style of the story (similar to action adventure films where we are meant to enjoy the victory of the hero and not take seriously the colossal amount of death and destruction he leaves in his wake) Is this indicative of a side of God’s nature (coming down hard on any hint of sin) that we have forgotten in our emphasis on the God of love?

Some details I thought were interesting

The unnamed (until the later genealogy) parents did more-or-less obey Pharaoh’s instruction but in a way which led to a different result. Their baby boy was not quite thrown into the Nile, but placed gently among the reeds of the Nile in a basket.

Many of the plagues left the Israelites untouched – proof that there was a purpose behind them rather than being simple natural disasters.

The idea that ‘nothing like this had ever happened before’ comes across frequently, thus showing the power of God – his ability to do extraordinary and unique things.

At some point in returning to Egypt Moses sends his wife and sons back home (Midian) and only when he returns with a nation in tow does Jethro bring them out to reunite them.

A bit I’ve never noticed before: over 70 leaders ventured up the mountain and saw God with a pavement of sapphire beneath His feet, they ate and drank with Him and lived to tell the tale. In fact the variety of people who went up and down the mountain over the course of the story were so confusing that I lost track.

The poles for carrying the ark were left in place – a symbol of always being ready to move on?

God’s law was not “Here are the rules. Now you know. Job done. I’m off.” but “Here are the basic rules, but they include instructions on how to meet with me regularly so I can continue to explain and instruct and guide.”

Throwing blood against the altar must have made it look messy and undignified. And having blood thrown over the people (to seal the covenant) sounds even more unpleasant (though highly symbolic). Ditto for Aaron’s robes. Were they ever washed? There is a strange mix of high quality craftsmanship and expensive materials followed by splattering them with blood and oil to make them ‘holy’. Aaron must have looked more like a butcher than a priest.

One of the key moments of Israel’s history, the giving of the law, was spoiled by the people’s sin, abandoning their God in favour of a golden calf. It was only through the persuasion of Moses that they were given a second chance and even then there was bloodshed (3000 killed, the same number as those later converted at Pentecost) and God refused to travel with them too closely for their own good (to keep his anger from destroying them). The whole business had to be gone through again, but if anything the events are more spectacular the second time round, with Moses’s face shining from the experience. It’s not just in the little things that we can start over, but God is gracious enough to give us a second chance in the big things of life.

Further thoughts on Exodus can be found in several recent blog entries: