Exodus 32

I find the story of the golden calf to be one of the most disturbing in the entire Bible. Sure, it's yet another instance of the Israelites evincing their waywardness and ingratitude, and that's the part that church-going kiddies get taught in Sunday school. But I find other elements of the story even more discomfiting--chiefly, both God's and Moses's reactions.

Of course, what the Israelites do is rather imbecilic; it takes a real ninny to witness the miracles of the plagues, the parting of the Sea of Reeds, and the stentorian rumbling coming from the top of Mount Sinai, and yet suddenly think, "Oh! God hasn't been around for a while. Let's worship our nose rings, which have probably gotten all snotty and disgusting, by fashioning them into the shape of an animal that has to regurgitate its food in order to digest it properly." Aaron makes a particularly moronic excuse that probably causes Moses to look askance at him and say, "Really, bro?" In verse 24, Aaron claims that the Israelites gave him the gold, which he threw "into the fire, and out came this calf!" Like magic! Not that it would have been any better, but you'd think that Aaron would've been smart enough to say something like, "I couldn't stop them from making this calf" instead of digging himself further into his wretched little pit.

So yes, God justifiably gets apoplectic, threatening to smite everyone. What disturbs me is that Moses's argument to save His people actually makes more sense to me. Moses reminds God of His covenant and explains that the Egyptians would have a field day if they learned that God had taken the Israelites away only to kill them in the desert. All reasonable explanations, which God apparently agrees with, as he doesn't kill everyone after all. But did Moses have to make this argument? It's not like he's saying anything that God hasn't already considered. Is God testing Moses? I guess that makes the most sense, but something about this interaction still disquiets me a bit.

After Moses sings a little ditty about the delightful noises the Israelites are making (verse 18), he sees for himself what's going on and promptly has his own little fit, breaking the tablets of the law in the process. But then, he commands those loyal to him to kill everyone else. Verse 26 specifies the Levites as the loyal ones, but we know they actually didn't literally kill everybody else, or else there would have been only one tribe of Israel--the Levites. Still, 3,000 people died, which seems rather a shame. Maybe God directed them to kill only those who were incorrigibly idolatrous, but I know that's a naive thing to say, because innocent people die all the time. We don't get all the information here, so I just have to trust that God knew what He was doing. But still, this is not a story to warm the cockles of your heart.

As a cherry on top, God strikes everyone with a plague (verse 35), which I guess is only fair. You would think this would be enough to get the Israelites to heed Him now, but alas…. I don't envy God's position. Sure, there are the problems so eruditely explored in the movie Bruce Almighty, but how does one go about getting people, all of whom have a seed of original sin, to love each other and acknowledge Jesus' sacrifice while also giving them free will? I can only thank God that He has extended His grace to everyone.

Exodus 31

Chapter 31

God puts the delightfully named Bezalel and Oholiab in charge of manufacturing the tabernacle, its furnishings, and the priestly garments. I'll just say that it's rather impressive that the Israelites were able to lug so much material along with them in their hasty flight from Egypt. Then again, if you remember, God did make the Egyptians "favorably disposed" toward the Israelites (Exodus 12:36); now we see what all that precious metal is for. (Or at least what it's supposed to be used for; the Israelites once again screw this up, as we'll find out in the next chapter.)

Bezalel, Oholiab, and all the "skilled workers" (verse 6) under them use their God-given talents to glorify Him. We'll learn more about individual talents and specialization once we get to the letters of Paul, but even here, we see evidence that God gives us gifts to use for the benefit of Him and His. Like I've mentioned before, writing is the one skill I have that's at least a little above average. However, I know that writing these self-centered posts, while a good first step, isn't really benefiting anyone else. I need to allow my relationship with God to flourish so I can discern how I can put my talents to real use.

God reiterates the Sabbath laws, but here we find that they're actually quite rigorous. Verse 15 explicitly says, "Whoever does any work on the Sabbath day is to be put to death." No one in their right mind follows this law today, but I do think we have to remember to set aside time to spend in God's presence without the distractions of work or idle entertainment. Now that we have so much more ways to be entertained--films, video games, YouTube, Tsum Tsum--leisure can divert us from God just as insidiously as work. I haven't succumbed to phone games thus far, but I probably value my time reading, watching, or listening to media for pleasure than I do my time with God. And that definitely has to change.

"You shall not covet…" (20:17)

This is the "grass is always greener" commandment. I do have a problem wanting things--CDs, books, and movies are the major culprits for me. Sure, they don't belong to anyone because I buy them from the store or online, but it's still a manifestation of greed. Most of the time, I do enjoy what I buy, but now and again, I buy something and realize after months of not touching it that maybe I'm not getting my full value out of it.

Although I've never really coveted others' possessions--usually, if someone has something that interests me, I'll just buy my own copy--sometimes I covet others' skills or what I perceive as their superior lifestyle. Again, I wouldn't really be taking anything away from said person, but that's still a pernicious way of thinking. I'm in awe of those with oral skills superior to mine (i.e., just about anybody) who can carry a decent conversation. I look longingly at those who can get past the fifth obstacle on Flappy Bird. But what good does that do me? I'm so blessed with the life I've been given, and though I should always strive to improve my skills, I should most of all endeavor to become closer to God.

Exodus 30

Chapter 30

Despite being of Asian descent, I've never had any strong memories of any relatives who burned incense; my parents and grandparents certainly don't. I wonder if certain cultures and religions burn incense just because it smells intoxicating (though some would say pungent). Did God's incense smell alluring, or was it an acquired smell? I'm afraid I don't have any gum resin, onycha, galbanum, or frankincense on hand (verse 34), so I won't be able to perform this little science experiment anytime soon. Similarly, out of all the ingredients for the anointing oil (verses 23-24), I'm only familiar with olive oil and cinnamon--though the Bible does specify "fragrant cinnamon," so I have no idea if that's the same as the cinnamon we know. Is that word "fragrant" restrictive (specific cinnamon that is fragrant) or nonrestrictive (cinnamon, which happens to be fragrant)?

If anyone uses the anointing oil or incense for their own purposes, like as a deodorant, they are to be "cut off from their people" (verses 33, 38). This sounds rather stringent at first brush, but it does emphasize the reverence with which people should approach God. Similarly, Aaron and his sons have to wash themselves before approaching God. In addition to promoting good hygiene, this also shows that you should respect your body enough to present yourself before Him without looking like Pigpen. (This, of course, is assuming you have the means to keep yourself clean, but if you're able to access and read this, then I'm sure you have access to some sort of shower facility.)

Most notable, though, is the mention of atonement money. Each person must offer a set amount--half a shekel--to God. Nowadays, we tithe to support causes that further God's kingdom on Earth, but we're no longer required to give an exact amount. Jesus' death paid our ransom, which I'm guessing is why we're no longer under an obligation to give half a shekel or whatever. In any case, I do know that I myself need to give more, because I am only a steward of the money that God has provided me. As long as I'm able to use my money, I should use it to help others in a Christlike manner.

"You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor" (20:16)

This reminds me of Arthur Miller's play The Crucible, in which some teens basically act like a certain nether bodily orifice, slandering a bunch of people in their town with baseless accusations of witchcraft. Joseph McCarthy also did something similar in real life, accusing those he didn't like of being Communists. No one holds Abigail Williams or Joseph McCarthy as role models (I hope), but we have to be careful not to act likewise. I don't think I've actually falsely accused anyone of anything, but how many times have I written, "So-and-so is a hack director because he made this POS movie?" Maybe that's not quite the same, but is vilifying people like Zack Snyder that far removed from lying about them? Making a bad movie, book, or piece of music doesn't necessarily make you a horrible person, so why should I cast aspersions? I think I'm more careful now about not attacking the character of one whose work I don't like, but I still have to remain vigilant.

Exodus 29

Chapter 29

In order to be fit to perform their sacred duties, Aaron and the other priests must first perform a painstaking series of rituals. The process involves bread, olive oil (actually used for cooking this time), rams, bulls, lambs, and the various body parts of said animals. Being a priest is not for the squeamish; whenever a lamb or bull is slaughtered, Aaron and his sons have to "lay their hands on its head" (verses 11, 19). Killing an animal is a messy enough business, especially if you want to keep it from struggling, but if you have to be so close as to have your actual hand on it? Needless to say, you'll probably want to change before you go out on a date.

Verse 18 mentions the "pleasing aroma" that emanate from the sacrifices. It's almost comforting to think that God enjoys some of the same sensations that we do. He didn't have to give us noses or taste buds, and He didn't have to create the many wonders of the natural world. He enjoys reveling in His creation. Of course, I could be wrong and this "pleasing aroma" is just metaphorical. But the point is that it pleases God.

Verses 24-26 include the directions for what is called a "wave offering." Seeing grown men wave loaves of bread and ram innards around at ostensibly nothing does seem pretty silly out of context. The ultimate purpose is to please God and to show one's devotion to Him, but I do wonder about the purpose behind the actual waving. Is there some sort of health benefit, like there was behind God's mandate not to hoard manna? (And apparently, the Israelites do have more to eat than just manna and quail at this point.)

Not only do we learn that Aaron and the priests get to eat some of the offering, but we learn just what parts of the ram they get to feast on: the breast and the thigh (verse 27). God does know the choice cuts of an animal--He created them, after all--so He's not going to have the priests eat, say, the brain. Because that will certainly end well.

"You shall not steal."(20:15)

I know you're just on pins and needles waiting to see if I've stolen anything. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I have not embezzled funds, shoplifted, or relieved anyone of their personal effects. And I have not performed the most grievous act of all: stealing a library book. I used to go to our local library a lot--it was always a fun walk over, but lugging all my spoils back home? Not so much. Anyway, from time to time, I'd wake up in anxiety, wondering if I had any library books I'd forgotten to return, hiding under the bed somewhere. Because if you don't return a library book on time, you know what that means: Death. Or not being able to check out any more books, which is just about as bad. But I will confess one misdeed: Our library had some paperbacks without barcodes that you were supposed to borrow on the honor system. And though I did end up returning everything I borrowed, let's just say that I kept some of them considerably past the normal due date.

Exodus 28

This chapter offers plenty of mouth-watering morsels for those with a passion for fashion, but alas, I do not count myself among those privileged few. The elaborate, meticulously described clothing reveals just how serious a duty it was to be a priest of God. Still is, in fact, but we no longer require our pastors to wear checkerboards of precious stones, or even modern suits or formalwear. Of course, I think it's more important for religious leaders to be spiritually mature than to be Mr. or Ms. Fancy Car Clothes; I personally don't care what a pastor wears, as long as it's not along the lines of a birthday suit.

But wearing a uniform or a particular set of clothing can make you feel different, as many an actor and Disneyland character will attest. When I'm in my pajamas, I feel like a lazy schlub, but when I'm dressed to the nines, as it were, in my best tux, I walk just a little straighter. And the people around you contribute to this effect by treating you just a little different. We do judge people by appearances to some extent, and changing what you wear is the easiest way for you to change how people react to your appearance. I'm well aware that my face could stop a clock (which is odd, as my parents and siblings are all good-looking--like Scar, I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool), but I can't change that. But my clothes I can change--but then again, I barely put any thought into what I wear anyway, so I don't know quite where I was going with this.

But getting back to the topic, the clothes that the Israelite priests wore probably did help them approach their holy tasks with just a bit more reverence. This was especially apt in the time before Jesus when a priest entering the Holy Place in the tabernacle could possibly be killed if he screwed something up. (The NIV Study Bible hypothesizes that the bells on the priests' ephods mentioned in verses 34 and 35 let those outside the Holy Place know that the priest was still alive. If the bells stopped, that probably wasn't a good sign.)

The breastplate contained four rows of three precious stones each, including turquoise (which used to be my favorite color back when "favorite colors" were the talk of the break room) and amethyst (which used to be my favorite gemstone back when males and females at my workplace wanted nothing to do with each other. I'm sure that we gave our boss a headache--imagine having to manage 30 employees split into two clans of 15, each of whom believes with fervent conviction that the other clan has some debilitating virus that can only be cured with a special shot.)

Anyway, when I read about the breastplate, I can't help but be reminded of that game Mastermind, with its colorful rows of four. It was one of those games that was always in the library of my previously mentioned workplace, but no one ever actually played it like you were supposed to. I think people just screwed around with the pegs, making colorful designs. As I remember, it was one of those torturous logic puzzles in game form. "Bob, an only child who never tells the truth, is sitting next to someone whose last name is Dead and three seats away from a man whose father is Bob's father's son. No one wearing a green cummerbund is sitting next to someone who only takes the elevator down. What is the bus driver's name?"

Ten Commandments ruminations will return tomorrow (or whenever I publish the next post). Tune in next time to find out whether I've stolen anything!

Exodus 27

Chapter 27

The description of the altar of burnt offering, what with the shovel, meat fork, firepan, and grating, makes it seem like some sort of barbecue. Which I guess makes some sense, as I gather that the offerings were supposed to be burned in the altar itself. Verse 8 has God saying that the altar "is to be made just as you were shown on the mountain." Does that mean that God or one of His angels provided Moses with a little demo on how the altar should be built? At any rate, this shows just how much God valued sacrifices as tangible manifestations of His people's devotion to Him. Nowadays, of course, we don't need to do this, but if we really have a relationship with God, our faith should manifest itself through Christlike actions--and to repeat what I've been saying for the majority of these posts, that's something I definitely need to work on.

The Israelites use olive oil for the lampstand; I use it for cooking Brussels sprouts (just about the only food I know how to cook well that doesn't involve a microwave or toaster). Verse 21 says that "Aaron and his sons are to keep the lamps burning before the LORD from evening till morning." Similarly, Christians must be vigilant to keep the light of Christ burning within them. This doesn't mean we need to proselytize every second of every day, but we must remember to treat everyone as Christ would treat them--without rancor and without condescension. (OK, I suppose the latter is fine if you do it in a teasing manner with a close friend.) On a more superficial note, the use of the informal "till" instead of "until" surprised me; I wonder if this informal language is in the original Hebrew.

I don't have anything else pithy to write about this chapter (to which you may retort, "Well, you've never had anything pithy to write at all." Point taken.) But whenever I think of a barbecue, I remember the time in elementary school when our class went on an evening field trip to a public park close to our house. (I'm pretty sure it wasn't Cub Scouts, because why would we go somewhere so mundane?) The park had fire pits, over which we roasted food of some sort, but I only remember the marshmallows in particular. And that's because instead of roasting the marshmallows to eat, a few other deranged classmates and I dropped the marshmallows into the fire, causing them to turn black and swell to immense proportions. They looked like some sort of meteorite. It was easily the most thrilling, fascinating part of the trip, as I can't remember anything else about it.

"You shall not commit adultery" (20:14)

I may have my various faults, but I have never committed adultery. But as Jesus will say later on, those who look lustfully at someone might as well have committed adultery. This issue is obviously too sensitive to expand upon in a public post, but suffice to say that I'm a straight male who has gone through puberty. I know that the objectification of women (and men, for that matter) is reprehensible--I must keep in mind that we are all beloved children of God, and that applies as much to our enemies as to those we are tempted to objectify.

Exodus 26

Chapter 26

My first exposure to the word "tabernacle" was at the Family Camp my church's conference holds every summer. Although it's located in the Santa Cruz mountains and called a "camp," it's far from primitive; the "cabins" are not built out of logs, but feature running water and electricity. You don't have to cook your canned food on a camping stove or over a fire pit either; the cafeteria cooks all the utterly scrumptious food for you. And the tabernacle isn't a tent divided into a Holy Place and a Most Holy Place, but rather a building that looks like your average nondenominational church sanctuary. I do think the word "tabernacle" has a rather mellifluous quality befitting its role as God's throne on Earth.

This chapter, basically instructions for a DIY tabernacle (though I'd certainly muck it up if I tried building it myself), doesn't offer too much in the way of explicit spiritual instruction. I can spit out to you all the intriguing notes offered by the NIV Study Bible, but those are the editors' thoughts, not mine. The one aspect I can grasp onto here is the separation of the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place. Jesus' death means that this separation, a "one-step removal" from God's presence, no longer pertains to us. But in that process, perhaps we've lost some of the awe and reverence we should feel whenever we're in God's presence--which is pretty much all the time.

I'm quite guilty of this--I'm not always mindful that God is basically standing right beside me during my every action--noble and ignoble alike. Once I become familiar with someone, I get comfortable. Those who know me in real life would be surprised at how gregarious I am with my brothers, who I've known for literally my whole life. But maybe my comfort with God has created complacency--I forget that God is the creator of the universe who can't tolerate sin, but who sent His son to die for our perfidies, peccadillos, and outright transgressions. And I know I can take His grace for granted. I keep writing about how I've never had an explicit conversation with God, but shouldn't I do all I can to grow in my relationship with Him so I can converse with the King of Kings? I admit that I'd like to meet and chat with celebrities whose work I admire despite my diffidence (though only certain ones--the vast majority of them I just wouldn't have anything of substance to say anything to), but we all have a direct line to the greatest Being of all. And (cheesy metaphor alert) if you ring him up, He'll always listen and answer in His own way.

"You shall not murder" (20:13)

Not much to say about this one; the thought of murdering someone has never crossed my mind. Sure, I get angry with those who commit grievous injustices, but I'm not some vigilante. This commandment does not say "You shall not kill," but still, I hope that I'll never have to face a situation in which I have to kill someone.

Exodus 25

Chapter 25

This chapter offers up detailed descriptions of various pieces of furniture in the Israelites' tabernacle. To get just a bit didactic for a moment, one way that you can determine whether you really understand a passage is to visualize what the author is writing in your head. If your visualizations match the physical details and spatial relationships that actually exist in the text, then you know that you're actually processing the information correctly instead of just extrapolating.

When I first visualized the ark, it looked pretty much like the historical reconstructions--with the notable exception of the cherubim, because at that age, I thought a cherub was one of those twee Cupid monstrosities like the ones in Fantasia. (To be fair to myself, that is one definition of "cherub," but I've since learned that the cherubim here are quite different.)

Of course, when one mentions the Ark of the Covenant, now I can't help but visualize the version in Raiders of the Lost Ark (still one of the best--if not the best--action movies I've seen). Notably, verse 15 says, "The poles are to remain in the rings of this ark; they are not to be removed." If you remember when Indy finds the ark in the film, he and Sallah have to insert the poles themselves to lift up the ark. Apparently, someone at some point didn't follow God's directions and took the poles out. This isn't the last time we see the ark, so expect me to make Raiders of the Lost Ark references whenever it pops up. (In fact, if for some inexplicable reason you haven't seen this classic movie yet, you should do so posthaste.)

I admit that when I first visualized the lampstand, I got the basic menorah shape down, but I was a bit puzzled by the four cups mentioned in verse 34. It's confusing because 1.) we already have the cups that hold the candles, and 2.) the way the passage is written makes it seem like there are four cups total instead of four cups around each branch. Verse 35 does clarify this, but it suddenly starts calling the cups "buds," which obfuscates matters a bit for me.

Acacia is an essential ingredient to many of the furnishings. It's also an essential ingredient for giraffes (as I learned in my third grade animal report.)

"Honor your father and mother" (20:12)

Well, I hope I follow this commandment. I mean, I don't go about wishing my parents ill will, and certainly the thought of killing them is just about the farthest thing from my mind. Villains in fiction seem to want to off their immediate progenitors, as in (and I'm deliberately using a mediocre film here so I don't spoil a good one) the James Bond movie Die Another Day. Of course, I'm ineffably thankful for how they've raised me and care for me, but do I manifest that love and appreciation through my actions? Not as much as I should, to be honest, and the only things really stopping me from doing more for my parents are laziness and selfishness. If I am to be a light unto the world as Christ intends all His followers to be, I must remember to include those closest to me.

Exodus 24

Chapter 24

When Moses utters unto the Israelites God's laws, they dutifully respond "with one voice, 'Everything the LORD has said we will do" (verse 3). Of course, we're not even out of Exodus before they start breaking their word. I think it's likely that most of the Israelites, at that moment, did believe that they were going to follow all of God's laws--after all, they're camped out at the foot of a formidable, conflagrant mountain that serves as a clear reminder of God's power. But as they went through the drudgery of real life, they probably found it more difficult to follow God's directives. Isn't that so much like our spiritual lives, though? We have a revelatory experience that brings us to our knees in profound emotion--a "spiritual high," in today's parlance. But then it's back to mundane, daily life when it's sometimes a struggle to feel God's presence. I know that I need to actively practice spiritual disciplines to maintain and develop my relationship with God--because when I lose that connection, that's when I tend to go astray.

In verse 8, Moses sprinkles bull blood on everyone. Kind of revolting--unless you're a bull vampire.

Contrasting with that lovely image, we have verse 10, in which we see that "Under [God's] feet was something like a pavement made of lapis lazuli, as bright blue as the sky." Imagine a gargantuan slab of this vibrant stone, extending to the horizon--like the sky, but with substance, with form and corporeality. Somehow, I don't think that God manifested himself in two huge pairs of feet with legs extending to the heavens, but who knows, maybe He did.

"Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy." (20:8-11)

I feel that America society has a dichotomous approach to work. On one had, we can be work-obsessed, ever striving to make more money. But the reason why we want more money is to spend it on leisure pursuits and a comfortable, even swanky lifestyle. And many Americans only feel like they should have a job that isn't beneath them.

I'm a big animation fan, and I always love reading behind-the-scenes stories of how animated films were made. During the last few months of production, animators and artists often work seven days a week, 12 or more hours a day, trying to get the film ready for theatrical release. The much vaunted Toy Story 2 brought Pixar to its knees during its final crunch--so much so that a couple of animators had to leave the animation industry altogether because of the physical strain. Filmmaking is just one industry in which workers could use a Sabbath, but the demands of the job often preclude that possibility.

I'm of Asian descent, and the stereotype is that Asians are hardworking. I suppose I can be, but I do value my free time and quite enjoy my Sabbath. But am I making it holy? Since I'm asking this question, you probably know what the answer is. I have to be careful to not adapt a selfish "free time is me time" attitude--which doesn't mean that I should become an ascetic, but it does mean that I should approach all my leisure pursuits with God in mind.

Exodus 23

In verses 1-9, God basically tells the Israelites, "Don't be a jerk." OK, there's a little more to it than that, but many of these rules prefigure the compassionate action that Jesus wants all His followers to take. The one that really jumps out at me is in verse 2: "Do not follow the crowd in doing wrong." Most people like to think that they're individual thinkers, marching to the beat of their own gran cassa. We'd like to think that if we had been Aryans living in Nazi Germany (and I know I'm bringing down Godwin's Law onto myself, but I'm trying to use an example that won't be controversial), we would have done our part to hinder the Nazi regime instead of going along with the Riefenstahl-fueled masses. Similarly, if you have at least a modicum of humanity, you should shudder at the very thought of taking part in a lynch mob like those that used to plague the American South.

Few are held in lower esteem than a tattle-tale on the venerated totem pole of status known in the vernacular as the elementary school playground (perhaps only the writer of protracted, convoluted, sentences in the passive voice is more disdained), which proves how certain patterns of conformity are ingrained in us from a young age. Of course, it's not much better to be a contrarian just to assert your individuality--that's entering troll territory, and sometimes the "crowd" is, in fact, morally correct.

But it can take real bravery, even audacity, to refuse to compromise morality when the crowd thinks there's nothing wrong. In the graphic novel Watchmen, one of the characters, Rorschach, decides to stand by his principles in opposition to the other characters, who have agreed to keep mum about a well-intentioned conspiracy with a monstrous cost. Of course, Rorschach's principles are pretty twisted to begin with, and there's a whole lot of moral ambiguity to the situation (which is part of what makes the graphic novel so great, but you'd be doing yourself a favor if you skipped the movie). But it throws into stark relief how difficult it can be to go against the crowd.

 In any case, as long as we stand with God, He'll give us the courage we need. To quote VeggieTales, "He's the one to back you up." (Or, as my brothers and I thought whenever we heard this song, "He's the one to vacuum up.")

Exodus 22

Chapter 22

Unlike the "eye for an eye" decree of the last chapter, theft of personal property does not require 1-1 reparations. Instead, a robber (or a burglar/thief, if one uses Scott Lang's modus operandi) must provide additional compensation. For example, verse 1 says that a thief must pay back four sheep for one stolen sheep. I guess this makes sense as it deters theft to a greater extent, but I happen to think that theft is a less severe crime than, say, relieving someone of his or her eye or limb. Or murder, come to think of it. Of course, that opens up knotty legal and moral questions that make me glad I don't work in the law profession.

I might be one of the few people to find a bit of morbid humor in verse 13: If someone's animal is torn apart while in the custody of another, the custodian has "to bring in the remains as evidence." I mean, does anyone really want to see the various pieces of poor Rover at the tribunal? I suppose having to scour the area for the scattered remnants and then carrying them in is punishment enough.

Verse 18 says, "Do not allow a sorceress to live." OK, but what about sorcerers? I suppose they get away scot-free? Hmm…. On a slightly happier note, at least men who can't keep their equipment in their pants have to pay for their vice. I don't think the stated punishment fits the severity of the crime, but at least we get acknowledgment that yes, it is a crime.

Verses 22-24 provide the most substantial meat in this chapter. God has a huge heart for widows, orphans, and any others who find themselves in unfortunate or horrendous situations. Personally, I always find myself getting almost cripplingly emotional whenever I hear stories of human trafficking or child abuse. But lest you think that I'm some untouchable saint, I find my mind wandering to the other concerns and distractions of life soon after. Other than donating funds here and there, I lamentably haven't really followed through with my feelings. Is that emotion I feel God tugging at my heart to take a further step? I wouldn't be surprised, but my inaction is yet another indicator that my relationship with God could use much improvement.

"You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God…." (20:7)

For the most part, I don't have too much trouble with this commandment. I do admit to cursing in my head (almost always with myself as the target) and sometimes when I'm writing as well; none of these expletives use God or Jesus' name in vain, but I'm aware that they're still not very delightful words. And after all, isn't it more entertaining to use vivid Shakespearean insults?

Exodus 21

Chapter 21

From now until partway through Numbers, we enter one of the most enthralling sections of the Bible: a recitation of rules, regulations, and records rivaling the romanticism of Rostand. Although much of the material here is interesting only from a historical and cultural perspective--and I'm certainly no historian--I'll do what I can to glean at least some zest out of these proceedings.

The very idea of servitude is reprehensible today, but this is how the Israelites and those around them lived. Most strikingly, no servant could be kept for more than six years--and not only that, the newly-freed servant didn't have to pay his or her former master one single shekel. Unfortunately, male servants were not allowed to bring their wife and kids along with them once they went free. Verse 4 does specify, "If his master gives him a wife," which implies that the servant didn't choose whom he married. Then again, even "free" people throughout history have been participants in arranged marriages.

Also, in verse 6, we learn just how a servant can procure a free ear piercing from his or her master.

The next section has an awful lot of rules about putting people to death for various felonies, with verse 24 containing the infamous "eye for an eye" edict. The NIV Study Bible posits that the spirit of this law emphasizes proportional justice rather than increasing escalation, but it still feels rather harsh--especially "burn for burn" in verse 25. Tooth for tooth, on the other hand, doesn't seem so bad, unless you're imbecile enough to knock out 32 people's teeth.

God devotes five whole verses (28-32) to bulls. I can't help conjuring an image of Israelites waving capes around in an attempt to get poor Ferdinand to chase after them. And although it sucks to have an ox or donkey fall into an open pit (verse 33)--especially for the hapless, absent-minded animal itself--the very existence of this rather random law implies that this was not a rare occurrence. I guess God was tired of watching animals plunge into holes that the Israelites had dug and then forgot about.

"You shall not make yourself an image…" (20:4-6)

I certainly don't worship idols, and I suspect that few who have their wits about them still do today, but do I worship figurative idols? I drive at least 30 miles a day, six days a week, which gives me plenty of time to contemplate various worries and flights of fancy. Sometimes, I admit that I think to myself, "Oh, if only my life were like this. If only I were more confident, charismatic, charming, perspicacious, witty, motivated, selfless, trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent." It can be tempting to idolize this ideal life I imagine for myself when in fact my life can never be better if I just follow God. "Better" won't necessarily mean "successful" or "trouble-free," which may partially explain why I don't heed Him more. I know that's a selfish reason, though, which offers further evidence of my need to further deepen my relationship with God.

(I suppose you could also say that I should be wary of idolizing writers, directors, composers, and actors whose work captivates me, but I wrote a bit about that in my previous post already. In fact, I'm half-surprised myself that I didn't just copy and paste yesterday's entry wholesale and change "gods" to "idols.")

Exodus 20

Since the rest of Exodus focuses on rules and regulations, I'm going to change things up for the next several posts. After writing my dippy little thoughts on the chapter (which will probably be shorter than usual), I will provide a bonus feature: ruminations on one of the Ten Commandments. (Sorry if you were expecting deleted scenes, a gag reel, or a multi-angle behind-the-scenes featurette.)

Chapter 20

Outside the Ten Commandments, the main point of interest in this chapter is God's mention of sacrificial altars. (Inside the Ten Commandments, to appropriate and paraphrase an aphorism from the ever-sagacious intellectual Groucho Marx, it's very dark.)

God uses an interesting phrase in verse 24: "Whenever I cause my name to be honored, I will come to you and bless you." If you've been paying attention, you know that God has reiterated numerous times that He will bless those who honor Him. And yet here, God explicitly says that He causes people to honor His name. In one respect, this sounds vaguely ominous, as if God is forcing people to honor Him. Of course, he could easily do so if He wanted, but He wants His children to have a true, loving relationship with Him--and you can't force love. At the same time, one has to remember that God has a plan for us--and when we follow His will, then technically God is causing us to honor Him.

Verse 26 is one of those classic Sunday-school memory verses that makes immature boys (and perhaps some slightly more mature girls) snicker. I guess the Scots take after the Israelites.

"You shall have no other gods before me" (20:3)

I myself wouldn't dream of worshipping any other god in the religious sense, if only because I believe they don't exist. But I do sometimes worship the "gods" of leisure. Music, books, films--I enjoy consuming such entertainment in my free time. There's nothing wrong with that if I don't put it before God, but I have to admit that sometimes I do. I hope these blog posts will help me realize how infinitely more important it is for me to develop my relationship with God. But even though I'm trying to write these on a semi-regular basis, I still need to adapt a more prayerful attitude, bringing all that I am before God, not just when I write these little posts. I pray that God will instill in me a passion for Him that surpasses my passion for books, movies, and film music. I should look forward to absorbing and cogitating on God's word with more ardent anticipation than I have for The Incredibles 2. That film, along with all earthly constructs, will pass, but one's connection with God is eternal.

Exodus 19

I love how verse 1 proclaims, with earth-shattering import, "On the first day of the third month after the Israelites left Egypt--on that very day--they came to the desert of Sinai" (emphasis mine). I should use that in my own writing more often: "On the fifth second of the forty-ninth minute of the nineteenth hour of the twenty-first day of the fourth month--on that very day--verily, I say unto thee, I broke the sylvan zephyr." If it's good enough for Moses, it's good enough for me.

In verse 4, we get one of the first usages of the image of God carrying us up on eagle's wings--the subject of many a worship song. Eagles are indeed majestic looking birds--it's not wonder that they're the mascot of the United States of 'Murica. Although it's amazing to contemplate the biological wonders of a hummingbird's ability to flap its wings 50-70 times per second, there's something dignified about a bird that can soar to near-empyrean heights without much visible exertion. Similarly, God can carry us to heights where we can know a tranquility that only He can provide. Contrast the image of the eagle to that of the pre-Coleridge albatross--it's splendid in flight all right, but its takeoffs and landings are another story.

God says that if the Israelites follow Him, He will make them "a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (verse 6), to which everyone dutifully responds, "We will do everything the LORD has said" (verse 8). Even if you haven't skipped ahead, you can expect how long that lasts. Knowing humans' fickle hearts, God imposes another proviso, telling the Israelites to stay away from Mount Sinai on pain of death--another example of how one's level of obedience to external regulations evinces the true nature of one's heart. This is a precept certain Pharisees in Jesus' day took too far--they observed religious customs for the sake of showing off--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

To reinforce how serious He is about keeping the Israelites away from the mountain, God comes down to Mount Sinai in one of His most physically baleful manifestations. Clouds, lightning, thunder, smoke, fire, and earthquakes are all on the menu as God harnesses some of the most formidable elements of His creation to trumpet His might. And yet this almighty God is the same one who brought the Israelites out of Egypt and puts up with their fractious complaints. And eventually, through His son, He will allow every one of His precious children to have a personal relationship with Him. Although this is one of the most fundamental tenets of being a Christ-follower, I still need to be regularly reminded of how utterly and heartbreakingly incredible God's grace is.

Exodus 18

Moses sends his wife, Zipporah, and his sons ahead to where Jethro resides, presumably to warn him that he'll have to prepare a banquet for 600,000 ravenous guests who've been eating nothing but quail and graham crackers for weeks. Jethro decides he's going to have none of that, freeing himself of that obligation by coming out to where Moses and the Israelites are. Come to think of it, we don't hear a whole lot about Zipporah or Moses's sons. Was Moses just trying to be humble, not wanting to make Exodus a vanity book about how awesome his wife was and how his kids were valedictorians at Sinai High School, creating their own charities and discovering new chemical elements?

Even though Jethro isn't an Israelite, he still acknowledges God's providence and sovereign power in verses 10 and 11. What's even more impressive is that he didn't actually witness any of the miracles God performed. Contrast his reverent attitude with that of the Israelites. They were firsthand witnesses to every single act of supernatural phenomena wrought by God as well as every act of mercy and provision, yet I've lost count of how many times they've bleated and accused God of abandoning them. I've never witnessed any outright miracles along the lines of a parting sea--or across or skew to the lines of a parting sea, for that matter. Though I do have faith in God's existence, there's still plenty of room for my faith to grow.

Jethro ends up giving Moses one piece of advice: delegate some duties to other trustworthy people. In effect, Jethro led Moses to create one of the first religious bureaucracies.  Moses doesn't have to take the whole world upon his shoulders--if he does, it will tire him out and diminish his efficacy. I've heard many messages on how it's good to serve, but serving too much can make one forget the reason why one's serving. I once had to work nine days in a row, and boy, did I feel worn out and ineffective by the time the ninth day rolled around. I don't want to complain, since I do know some people work more than that, but it certainly didn't help that I'm an introvert and part of my job requires almost constant talking. Perhaps an extrovert would've had no problem talking for hours for that many days (and, by definition, that would actually energize them.)

It's fine to ask others for help and delegate tasks. I admit that I can have trouble asking others for help unless I know them really well, but that's more because I fear being turned down than because I feel like "only I can save the world." That's a completely different issue, so I guess that example doesn't work so well--but I'm too lazy to think of another one. Maybe I can delegate that task to someone else.

Exodus 17

As the Israelite throng leaves the Desert of Sin (a rather unfortunate but somewhat apt moniker), guess what they do? If you answered, "They write villanelles with their armpits," you'd be close, but not quite there. As if on cue, they start complaining about the lack of water, prompting Moses to ask (rhetorically), "Why do you put the LORD to the test?" (verse 2) God had admonished them pretty clearly in the last chapter about testing Him, and yet they seem to have the memory spans of goldfish. Moses enters drama queen mode, claiming that the people are about to "stone" him (verse 4). I don't know if this is actually true or if Moses was being hyperbolic, but I'd be pretty exasperated too. This is how the Israelites show their gratitude after the miracles in Egypt and the provision of manna and quail? Then, of course, God reminds me that I can be an ungrateful little snit, complaining to Him--if indirectly, but does that really make a difference?

Ever forbearing, God provides water from a rock. I guess Charlie Brown's Halloween treats suddenly don't look so bad if a) you're in the middle of a parched desert, and b) you have Moses along with you. Water definitely trumps candy and popcorn in such an arid environment. Interesting to note is that Moses doesn't perform this miracle in front of everyone (though with more than 600,000, not everyone could have seen it clearly anyway), but only "in the sight of the elders of Israel" (verse 6). At first glance, this seems awfully elitist, but this does show that Moses respected older people. Age does not automatically correlate with wisdom, but I think that all too often, we disregard older folks in favor of younger folks. This is especially prevalent in Silicon Valley, where Google, Facebook, Apple and other tech start-ups overflow with "cool" young employees always trying to "break the rules." Not that we should spurn the millennial generation or call them lazy--I'm part of said generation, after all--but people of all ages have much to offer.

As the Israelites fight the Amalekites, we receive out first glimpse of Joshua, who will become Moses's right-hand man and, eventually, his successor. Oddly, the tide of the battle fluctuates depending on whether Moses is holding his hands up; when they're up, the Israelites are winning, and when they're down, the Amalekites are winning. Anyone who's held their hands up knows that your arms get tired surprisingly quickly, so it makes sense that Moses has Joshua and Hur help hold them up.

Using physical gestures is a rather peculiar way for God to reveal His power (though who am I to judge)--it reminds me a bit of Magneto in X-Men. He can move manipulate metal with his mind, but for some reason, he always needs to flail his arms around, writhing like a stuck pig. Other psychic characters in films and TV do this as well, and even Darth Vader needs to make a choking sign with his hand in order for his Force-choking to work. I've always found this trope a little silly, though I suppose it does let you know that the character is doing something. But really, if you're Charles Xavier and can read people's minds, won't holding your finger to your forehead insinuate that you may be doing something nefarious?