Words or Rules of the Department of Philosophy at the University of Walamaloo

F or the first time in over a century the Israelites have their freedom back. After watching their captors bite it at the Sea of Reeds, they celebrate by throwing a party and singing karaoke with more exuberance than Chip Douglas. It’s a defining moment for the young nation. If Eli Cash wrote the final scene in Exodus 15 it would probably involve Israel riding on in the friscalating dusklight. But no sooner has the chorus of “We Are the Champions” died out than God runs one of his famous diagnostic checks to see if the people will entrust their lives to his Bear Grylls survival skills. It’s only been a few days since they crossed the sea in dramatic fashion, but Israel immediately panics when they run low on drinking water (v. 24). Sure, God can split a large body of water in half to facilitate an emergency escape, but what does he know about dehydration? Everyone gets an F on the pop quiz, but God is good enough to supply a river of Gatorade anyway.

The Israelite’s test scores don’t improve once they’ve replenished their electrolytes. When the provisions they left Egypt with run out in Exodus 16 their complaint turns from thirst to hunger (v. 3). But despite asking in the worst possible way, God still provides them with food (v. 12). Every day, except Saturdays (the Sabbath) they find the ground covered with Teddy Grahams. The people call it manna because it hasn’t been branded by Nabisco yet (v. 31). Meat arrives when flocks of kamikaze quail crash-land around their camp. It’s like Bodega Bay all over again. Numbers 11 reveals the quail show up after a small faction of rabble rousers, primarily the “Where’s the Beef?” ladies, demand Wendy’s for dinner: “Who will give us meat to eat? … There is nothing at all to look at except this manna” (vv. 4-6).

These guys are more ungrateful than Ichirō Yashida. They even go so far as to reminisce about the “free” food they ate in Egypt. Someone should probably tell them it’s not a good idea to complain on a full stomach. Thanks to their constant dissatisfaction, Moses is aging faster than Walter Donovan. It’s enough to make him ask God for early retirement: “[P]lease kill me at once, if I have found favor in Your sight” (v. 15). Yep. It’s that bad. Moses gets less respect than Rodney Dangerfield. God calms him down and once again fulfills the Israelite’s request—but this time it costs the original whiners their lives when he snuffs them out before they can swallow their first bite (v. 33). Apparently, it’s okay for God to run tests on the people, but not for the people to test God.

Things don’t get any better in Exodus 17. After traveling a little farther, Israel is back on Moses’ case about the lack of convenience stores on their route (v. 3). To paraphrase the old Gaelic proverb: Freedom goes better with a Big Gulp. At this point, the people are getting worked up over an issue God has already proven he can handle, but they still have the balls to ask, “Is [God] among us, or not?” (v. 7). Talk about short-term memory. Israel is more forgetful than Leonard Shelby. In order to satisfy them, God instructs Moses to pull a reverse Excalibur on a nearby rock using his trusty walking stick, an action that causes a flood of water to pour out (v. 6). It’s enough to fill every canteen and cattle trough in their possession. Scripture doesn’t record anyone saying thank you.

Israel is still cooling its heels by the water when the Amalekites roll up unannounced and pick a fight (v. 8). As descendants of Esau, the Amalekites are still nursing a big-time Kayako Saeki grudge against the other side of the family. Like the Ewings and Barnes, it’s an intergenerational family feud. But the Amalekites aren’t interested in a fair fight. According to Deuteronomy 25:18, they follow Buford Tannen’s first rule of engagement by attacking Israel from behind, going after the weakest members first. There’s no question who the bad guys are. Moses calls on his young Padiwan learner, Joshua, to pull together some brawlers and sends them to defend Israel against the unprovoked attack (v. 9). Joshua dutifully leads the J Squad into battle, but only wins when Moses holds a perfect Tony Manero pose (v. 11). It’s an unusual fighting style, but it gets the job done. With a little help from his friends, Moses is able to freeze-frame his stayin’ alive pose until Israel walks away with a victory.

After the dust has settled, Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, drops by for a visit in Exodus 18. He’s the first real outside indication that God’s big promotional push in Egypt is paying off. He’s heard some tall tales from Jonas Hackett and wants to see if the stories are true (v. 1). Moses confirms everything and invites his father-in-law to join them (v. 8). It’s enough to convert Jethro on the spot, but he refuses to tag along (see Num. 10:29-32 if you’re into deleted scenes with commentary). He only sticks around long enough to watch the Israelites line up to settle their disputes in a makeshift People’s Court while Moses plays Judge Wapner. At the end of the day, Jethro suggests a hierarchy of leadership so that Moses can snag some downtime (vv. 21-23). Moses is quick to take the advice. It’s the perfect excuse to close his tent flap and catch up on Stranger Things.

Three months after their memorable exit from Egypt Israel reaches Mount Sinai. After setting up base camp in Exodus 19, God shows up to have an adult conversation. Now that he’s all but fulfilled his magically binding contract with the long-dead Abraham, he’s ready to draw up new paperwork—in stone. Better call Saul Goodman. It’s always a good idea to have a lawyer present during renegotiations. But despite having the leverage of recent events on his side, God doesn’t call in a Don Corleone favor. Instead, he interviews for the job. He even goes so far as to present a résumé to sell his expertise (v. 4). And to further prove his laidback approach is no joke, he gives them the option to reject the offer and go it alone.

But why Israel? What makes them special? As it turns out, nothing. Like Peter LaFleur and the Average Joe’s this is a true underdog story. God doesn’t pick Israel based on their superior dodgeball skills. In fact, he doesn’t pick them at all. He recruits them. Remember way back in Genesis 12 when he asked Abraham if he wanted to go walkabout? That’s where it all started. If old Abe hadn’t pulled a Walter Mitty this would be a different story. Who knows? Maybe God originally asked some guy named Jeb who said no. As a result, Israel gets top billing. In return, God asks them to be “a kingdom of priests” (v. 6). It’s a job title that could benefit from further explanation. That’s right. Hanging out with God comes with a union card—but the people don’t wait to hear the details of their assignment before signing on. They agree to the terms faster than Veruca Salt signed off on Willy Wonka’s entry contract (v. 8). Moses further seals the deal with a blood oath, a ceremony that involves giving Israel the Carrie White treatment (see 24:8).

Once Israel accepts the unspecified terms, Moses joins God on Sinai to go over the fine print. The Israelites are ban from going near the mountain during this time under warning that God will “break out against them” if they do (v. 22). No, God isn’t issuing a Tyler Gage dance challenge. Don’t spread out any cardboard. This isn’t the right time. God’s instruction to set up a boundary is actually a nice guy move, because his arrival on Sinai registers on the Richter scale and leaves a bigger impression than when Thor’s hammer landed in New Mexico (vv. 16-18). The whole scene is enough to merit immediate evacuation, but Moses scales the mountain with more dedication than Joe Banks while the Israelites wait below like anxious Waponis (see 20:15).

Exodus 20 starts with God reintroducing himself, because, at this point, it’s obvious Israel doesn’t get enough ginkgo biloba in their diet. Then he promptly presents the most famous top ten list ever (if you like reruns see Deuteronomy 5:6-18). Recorded on two tablets (an iPad and Galaxy Note), the first outlines God’s personal standards while the latter focuses on basic manners. Like RoboCop’s four prime directives, they are 79.6% common sense. So why carve them in stone? Uh, have you watched the six o’clock news lately? Generally known as the Ten Commandments, the list isn’t nearly as intimidating as it sounds. The original Hebrew actually refers to it as the Ten Words and, like Columbus’ rules for surviving a zombie apocalypse, it strikes a fairly practical cord. Beware of bathrooms. Avoid strip clubs. Enjoy the little things. If you’re expecting a list of otherworldly demands an Asgardian couldn’t live up to, you’re in for a surprise:

At this point, Moses has spent 40 days on the mountain getting the Ten Words and other Levitical laws from God. To reassure us he isn’t off smoking patchouli and making this stuff up on his own, the Hebrew makes a point to say God talks to him with a voice that sounds suspiciously like James Earl Jones (see 19:19). Meanwhile, down at base camp Israel is getting antsy. In Exodus 32, they go so far as to demand Aaron to make a god to replace their absent leader (v. 1). Using the people’s jewelry, Aaron makes a golden calf and unwittingly initiates the first ever Mooby Fun-Time Hour. Next thing you know, they’re hailing Mooby as the god that rescued them from the Egyptians (v. 4). Within twenty-four hours it turns into a full-on kegger (v. 6). It sounds like a Delta Tau Chi frat party. Did someone say toga? God alerts Moses to the situation with a strange request: “[L]et Me alone, that My anger my burn against them” (vv. 7-10). God is actually trying to convince Moses not to talk him out of vaporizing Israel. In this moment, his voice goes from James Earl Jones to Samuel L. Jackson. But before he can misquote Ezekiel 25:17 and go on a killing spree, Moses gives an impassioned speech that changes his mind (vv. 11-13). “So [God] changed His mind about the harm He said He would do” (v. 14). Yep. That just happened. And you thought Darth Vader listening to Daine Jir was impressive.

Unaware of the extent of Israel’s blunder, Moses repels down the mountain with the Ten Words under his arm and follows the sound of techno back to camp. When he sees the people dancing around with glow sticks, he reacts like Walter Sobchak, shouting, “Over the line!” and breaking the tablets in dramatic fashion (v. 19). Mark it zero, Dude. After destroying the idol, Moses turns to Aaron for an explanation. As Mr. Garvey would say, “You done messed up, A-Aron!” To cover his tracks, Aaron concocts a story of Edward Bloom proportions, claiming, “I threw [the gold] into the fire, and out came this calf” (v. 24). God immediately calls BS and is prepared to give Aaron a no-benefits retirement plan, but Moses intervenes on his brother’s behalf (see Deut. 9:20). But the incident doesn’t go away without Israel being called into the principal’s office. God instructs Moses to have the unapologetic Mooby worshipers killed for breaking their covenant vow (v. 27). Everyone else gets the flu for their participation (v. 35).

Israel is ready to hit the road again in Exodus 33, but God is so pissed at them for going back on their word he tells Moses he won’t be joining them for fear they’ll eventually press his berserk button one time too many (vv. 2, 3). Moses gets personal when he hears the news, using his bromance with God as collateral to convince him to stick around (v. 13). And he succeeds. Bad public speaker, my ass. Turns out, Moses is a better negotiator than Chris Sabian. God takes his words to heart and unpacks his suitcase accordingly: “[F]or you have found favor in My sight and I have known you by name” (v. 17). The compliment gets Moses so worked up he boldly goes where no man has gone before by asking God to expose himself: “[S]how me Your kabod” (v. 18). Kabod is a Hebrew word meaning glory. Moses is literally asking to see God in all his glory. Talk about getting personal. That’s like requesting to tour the inside of the Intrinsic Field Subtractor…while it’s running. But God refuses to go full monty: “[N]o man can see Me and live,” (v. 20). Verse 11 has already stated that God talks with him “just as a man speaks to his friend,” but Moses has come a long way from the guy who French-kissed the ground at the burning bush (see 3:6). Now he’s so comfortable around God he’s dropping the soap in his presence. In the end, God compromises by letting Moses see his Quasimodo region: “you shall see My back, but My face shall not be seen” (v. 23). It’s win-win for Moses. He gets a glimpse of God and it doesn’t leave him eating out of a tube for the rest of his life.

In Exodus 34, God sends Moses back up the mountain to replace the two broken tablets and renew the covenant (again): “Write down these words, for in accordance with these words have I made a covenant with you and with Israel” (v. 27). The process takes another 40 days. At this point, Moses has spent so much time with God his face literally radiates light. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s taken on a deeper tan than George Hamilton (v. 29). Freaked out by his 300-watt glow, the Israelites react like Todd and Margo Chester when he returns to base camp (v. 30). To put them at ease, Moses dons his son’s Spider-Man mask to hide the glow while he recites God’s instruction (vv. 33-35). For Israel, the Ten Words are just the beginning. It’s hasn’t been confirmed by Max Cohen yet, but general consensus is a total of 613 laws are given to the Hebrews at this time. It’s enough to dedicate a whole other book (Leviticus) to listing them. Try to contain your excitement.

As for Exodus, it comes to a close with a detailed explanation of how to build God’s Tabernacle. Put on your Howard Roark pants, the blueprints are presented in chapters 25-40. This includes the legendary Ark of the Covenant, which, thanks to Indiana Jones, is currently being stored in an undisclosed government warehouse. Israel goes to work immediately. Once the Tabernacle is completed, God takes up residency there day and night (see 40:38). It’s the closest we’ve come to a happy ending so far, but considering the Israelites have already broken at least one of God’s top ten rules, the future is up for grabs. With 603 more rules soon to be disclosed, it may turn into a real IMF assignment.