The Bible’s Old Testament: Exodus I: A Narrative Worthy of a Film

I’ve never seen Disney’s Prince of Egypt nor all of Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments, so I knew little about Exodus. I knew to expect the parting of the red sea at some point though—I’d been through the tour on the Universal Studios lot several times (where The Ten Commandments was filmed).

Unlike the expanse of Genesis, I appreciated the narrowed focus on Moses and his journey. This particular tale has all the elements of an interesting movie (which is why it’s been used for film material several times before—and coming soon, as it turns out). Here we have the hero archetype, and he undertakes quite a lot.

Exodus opens with Moses’ birth, which happens—shockingly—during unfavorable conditions.  The new ruler of Egypt was paranoid about the size of the Israelite population, so he decrees that all newborn male Israelites must be killed. (These people simply cannot catch a break during these times.) Moses’ mother (when he’s three months old) sends him down the Nile river in a wicker basket. Luckily, said basket finds its way to the Pharaoh’s daughter, who rescues him and raises him as her own.  I wondered where Moses’ father was, but he’s not mentioned.

They could have this story Indecision and been just as respectful of the content. Seems like no one has any confidence in themselves, their decisions, or even God. Even God changes his mind.

Moses grows to be a righteous man (naturally). Drama begins for him when he kills an Egyptian for hitting a Hebrew. (Though without more details, it’s hard to see if he was just here.) He flees to hide for his crime—sort of like Michael Corleone escaping to Italy in The Godfather, but different—where he marries and fathers a son. Once the Pharaoh dies, the enslaved Israelites need help, so God approaches Moses: you will lead your people out of Egypt. Moses, however, isn’t sure he’s the guy for the job. You’d think that if God told you that he had your back, you’d be fine.  Of course, if I heard God’s voice through a burning bush, I might also have my doubts. So begins the first of many indecisions.

Side note: Given all of God’s powers, it seems strange what he chooses to communicate through, but there it is. I guess the point is convincing the hearer who he is, but still.  I couldn’t stop thinking about a brief scene in The 3 Amigos that has a burning bush.  Now I get the joke.

So Moses eventually agrees, albeit reluctantly. But not before the angry God resurfaces and performs some miracles to convince Moses. It also seems strange that if you were having a conversation with a burning bush that you would need more evidence, but again, I digress. But God is perhaps unsure of his own savior choice, for while Moses is en route, God tries to kill Moses (for some reason).  Perhaps he was irked about not being believed the first time. Since everything in this book has to be communicated at least eight times, you’d think God would be more patient (or at least tolerant).

The indecision here is understandable though, right?  For this to work as a story—one from which people learn—there has to be some resistance.  If God had come down, told Moses what to do and he gets it done, the human element gets lost and the hero doesn’t get tested.  Therefore, having him doubt himself only to discover that he can pull it off does create a good lesson.  If I were cynical, I might question how much credit Moses should really get though, seeing as how God was pulling the strings.

Watching him deal with Pharaoh once he gets to Egypt, however, is enough to want to make you bash your head against the wall. Now there is someone who absolutely can’t make up his mind.

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The Bible’s Old Testament: Genesis part VI: The Message of Genesis

Genesis contains some worthwhile moral tales, and they are not tidy and neat. I like a story with a dark edge, a bite, and Genesis surely offers one.  First and foremost: don’t piss off God.  Run afoul of God’s judgment and he will wipe you out (see: the world in which Noah lived, Sodom and Gomorrah). Seems like pretty scary times.  (Might help to get a warning of some kind, though.)  Given how awful people seemed to be back then, maybe a little cleansing wasn’t a bad thing.

Here it might be useful to perhaps put some of this in context.  First, who recorded just how bad things were? Or is this an issue of them being written, with no distinction ever considered? The stories I have heard about Sodom and Gomorrah (outside of what I just read) made it seem like it was a depraved society—the worst? Sodomites. When all those men gather outside Lot’s home and insist the two male visitors be brought out so they can have their way with them, I don’t see them as being a bunch of homosexuals looking for some fun.  No, they’re not bad because they’re into gay sex; they’re bad because they’re rapists. Why isn’t this identified as the bad quality within this society? Why is the focus on their homosexual sex?

Noah’s tale is also an interesting one, wherein someone makes a decision based on faith (or simply obeying).  As he built his ark, he surely had to endure skepticism from his community. Sometimes you must endure these types of things for what is right—though if someone were constructing a 450-ark, how would modern society tolerate it?

And, I’m sorry, the people of Egypt were happy to be enslaved because Joseph gave them food after taking EVERYTHING else they owned.  This sounds suspiciously like a case of the victors writing history. Aren’t all slaves happy, thankful individuals, or so enslavers might believe? Listen to how slaves sing!

I was prepared to comb through a text that would be populated by good and wholesome people, doing good and wholesome deeds—these deeds would then create a primer from which people would learn. However, it seems that for the most part, Genesis is populated with ways NOT to live.  People do bad things, they get punished.  Some good people get tested by extreme circumstances (like being sold into slavery and jailed for years). But by and large, ancient times seemed populated with scary individuals.  No wonder God was pissed off all the time.

These lessons seem very far removed from what most people today would have to endure.  Though if you are looking for relief perhaps there is comfort in knowing (at least in theory) that people have endured worse than you?

Next up: Exodus.  Cue the Bob Marley music.

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The Bible’s Old Testament: Genesis part V: Jacob’s End

Genesis V – When I was a kid, my brother tortured me a bit.  He “accidently” bashed my head into our TV consol while we were wrestling (I got a concussion), inadvertently severed an inch off the top of my middle finger with the front door weather stripping while we were playing tag (the fingertip hadn’t been preserved well enough in the Dixie cup to be re-attached), and liked to tell Dad I swore so that I would get punished and he would… well, I’m not sure why he did that.

I got over it, and I can see why someone would—accidents happen and people mature, etc. I don’t imagine having this same reaction had I a brother similar to Joseph’s, as discussed in Genesis.

The second half of Genesis focuses on Jacob’s family saga.  Drama. Of course, Jacob was the one who had schemed against his own brother Esau, in order to win his father’s blessing (being helped by his mother, no less). But when he is a father, Jacob and his large clan continue the line of bitter deceit. The message here seems to be: watch your back; otherwise, your jealous brothers (Reuben, Judah, et. al.) will sell you (Joseph) into slavery. God has plans for you, though, for being a slave will allow you (Joseph) to position yourself—from an Egyptian jail—to end up as the Pharaoh’s right hand man and leader of Egypt. So there’s always a silver lining?

Joseph does (sort of) move past this; however, I don’t see getting over your brother selling you into slavery and covering up your death, saying an animal attacked and defiled your body.  In fact, here are his bloody clothes as evidence (a plan which most of the brothers devised and then presented to Reuben, one of the eldest brothers). Will Joseph, the victim, have his revenge some day? Turns out the dreams he boasted about to his brothers, the ones where he saw himself ruling over his brothers, didn’t fill him in on this aspect.

But, have no fear, Judah suffers in other ways. He gets tricked into sleeping with his daughter-in-law because she posed as a prostitute and got pregnant (38:16). He doesn’t seem that broken up over this, so maybe he was only doing what men during this time did—have sex with any and all women they chose. But I didn’t know she was my daughter-in-law…. I’m guessing that if a woman had written this part it would sound a little different.

Meanwhile, in an Egyptian jail, Joseph manages to secure his freedom by analyzing the Pharaoh’s dreams. Joseph is able to see the coming famine and plan accordingly.  But not everyone did. So, ignorant of their brother’s status in Egypt, his brothers travel to the area to buy some of the rumored food.  In a fun plot twist, Joseph—now the powerful ruler in Egypt—accuses these brothers of being spies. (Seems that they don’t even recognize their brother.) He puts them through the ringer until they return with Benjamin, the youngest brother, whom Jacob kept safe at home.  When the brothers do return with Benjamin, Joseph forgives and forgets, and throws a feast—though he is above sharing a table with them.  Turns out Egyptians had a thing against Hebrews, a prejudice Joseph honors.

So Joseph is a bigot? I don’t know that I would be keen on breaking bread with them either. But perhaps his true feelings surface when, post-feast, Joseph sets them up—he has people plant a silver cup in Benjamin’s bag so he’ll be thought a thief.  One brother slave coming right up. But all’s good when Joseph reveals himself and the whole family is invited—with the Pharaoh’s blessing—to settle in Egypt.

Now Joseph can turn his attention to the people of Egypt, who have given him all their money, and then livestock, to buy food during the famine. When they run out of livestock—no problem—he’ll take their land and enslave them. For this they are grateful (47:25). I’m guessing that the new slaves were not happy they’d been enslaved just so they could eat.

When Jacob is dying, he blesses his son, though a lot of these blessings sound more like curses (49:28). He also seems to be calling out some of their bad behavior. And when Joseph dies at 110, he tells his brothers—now that he is not around to protect them in perhaps hostile land—that God will be around to lead them out of Egypt.  Eventually.

So ends Genesis.

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