From the Shores of Eden

by Shelley Penner

  Driven from the contaminated surface water, frogs, toads and even crocodiles roamed the streets of Thebes, invading homes and temples. Temperatures soared, and in the warmer climate, insect pests flourished and multiplied. People and cattle sickened, developing sores from the irritation of the abrasive red dust. Chaos reigned throughout Egypt and, in Thebes, Moshe and Aaron once again approached Pharaoh. When Ramses still refused to allow the slaves their sacrificial ritual in the desert, Moshe told him, “These plagues the Staff of God has visited upon you will seem nothing compared to what will follow. Just as your father ordered the murder of all Hebrew boy children, so has the One God decreed that all firstborn sons of Egypt shall die.”

  The Children of Abraham performed their Meriah ceremony in secrecy in the slave quarter, pooling what little coin they possessed to buy a ram. However, they found they could only afford a yearling lamb, and so they each took their small portion of the sacrifice and anointed their doors and window sills with the blood. They prayed and ate bitter herbs as they waited for the final blow to fall.

  Just before midnight, on a volcanic island in the Mediterranean, the bleeding heart of the Mother emptied into the sea and then collapsed, obliterating a legendary civilization. Cold sea water poured in onto molten rock, causing a titanic explosion felt and heard for thousands of miles and generating an equally massive earthquake. In Thebes, the ground cracked open in several places and swallowed people and buildings whole. The walls of the palace and many other great houses collapsed, crushing the sleeping inhabitants. Ramses himself became trapped beneath a weight of stone, awaiting either rescue or death, fearing for his family and wondering if the slaves’ ritual could have forestalled this disaster, wondering if, out of arrogance, he had made the wrong decision.

  In the slave quarter, the more flexible mud and straw buildings fared much better, and those that did collapse, being built of lighter materials, killed only a few. But in the chaos of that dark night, the more militant of the rebellious slaves saw their chance. They gathered their weapons, sharpened hoes, knives, scythes and sickles. In a wave of self-righteous fury, they descended on the households of their masters, killing without mercy those who survived, looting the great houses of their treasures, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake. For hours the carnage continued while volcanic ash once more obscured the rising sun, shrouding Thebes in a day of total darkness.

  The mob of hate-crazed slaves razed any house not marked with the blood of the sacrificial lamb, for even some of the slaves had denied the One God and collaborated with the Egyptians. Great homes that survived the earthquakes suddenly burst into flames and the ruin of Thebes burned. Stunned by the natural catastrophes, guards and soldiers remained confused, disorganized and vastly outnumbered.

  Moshe and Aaron waited in their home with their family for the bloody reign of terror to end. “This is not right,” Moshe muttered, holding Zippora and Gershom as much for his own comfort as for theirs as they listened to the screams outside.

  “It is the will of the One God,” Aaron replied bleakly. “The firstborn of every household not bearing the mark of the lamb.”

  “They are killing more than the firstborn. They are looting and thieving like common bandits.” Moshe watched from a window as the mob began to return in twos and threes, dripping with jewels and gold chains, splattered with blood and gore and drunk on revenge.

  “We must gather our people,” Moshe stated flatly. “We must leave immediately. Ramses will marshal his soldiers and slaughter us all. Quickly! Gather whatever you can carry. We must leave within the hour.”

  “But where can we go?” his sister Miriam wondered uneasily.

  “East across the Reed Sea, then south to Midian, where they also worship the One God.”

  Within hours they mustered the other families hiding behind their blood-marked door lintels. In a mass exodus they moved out beyond the edges of the city. In the slave quarter, no walls protected the district, making it easier for them to disappear into the desert unhindered. As the hours advanced, more and more people joined them, some driving wagons loaded with loot, some riding stolen horses. Moshe suspected that, if they had simply taken their families and personal belongings and left during the chaos of natural disaster, Ramses might have had his hands too full to bother pursuing them. But he could not overlook the slaughter of his people or the looting of the city’s treasures.

  Across the desert Moshe led the refugees, guided by the fiery pillar of the Staff of God by night and the smoking volcano, Horeb, by day. Numerous quakes shook the earth as they traveled, slowing their progress. The people grew tired and wanted to rest, but Moshe drove them on with predictions of what Ramses would do if he caught up with them. Their water ran out and the ground water remained undrinkable. People began dropping from thirst. Moshe scouted a small oasis of trees but found no sign of a well. A large boulder sat in the center of the grove. Suspecting it might protect a well, he jammed his staff beneath the boulder and pried it away, exposing a deep source of sweet water. The refugees set up camp on the spot, despite Moshe’s dire predictions. Early the next morning, he spotted a cloud of dust advancing toward them rapidly. With shouts of alarm and even blows he got everyone moving. He covered the well again in hopes their enemies would not recognize it. Then they fled directly east, spurred by terror. For three days the pursuit continued. People and horses dropped in exhaustion. They lightened the wagon loads, leaving behind the heaviest of the stolen treasures. And the dust of Ramses’ army drew closer and closer.

  At last, they reached the shores of the Reed Sea. It stretched before them in a vast expanse of shallow water as far as they could see, as blood red with dust as the waters of the Nile. They remained trapped between the vengeful devils following and the red sea of blood, well aware that their own blood would soon mingle with it. Then, miraculously, the water began to pull back, leaving the floor of the sea exposed. They could see the glittering line of the waters piling up on the horizon like a wall that could crush them. But Moshe shouted, “God has given us a way! Go now, as quickly as you can!”

  So they raced out across the mud flats in a frenzy of fear, wondering if God would hold back the waters long enough, or if he would drown them all for their sins. Some of the more heavily laden wagons became bogged down in the mud and abandoned in the mad race for the far shore. Quick glances to the rear showed Pharaoh’s army drawing close enough to see individual riders and chariots. The Egyptians didn’t hesitate when they reached the empty basin of the sea, they simply charged on in pursuit, believing their own gods would protect them. And when the tidal wave suddenly rushed inland, it swept them away, drowning most and washing them all far to the south. Moshe and his family looked back from the far shore, humbled and awed. Not all their own people reached safety either. Those most heavily laden with stolen goods perished with the Egyptians, and Moshe could only believe that God had punished them for their wrongdoing.

  * * *

  In the Hebrew camp at the base of the mountain, Zippora silently washed her family’s clothing in a stream of clear water. Here, far to the east of Egypt, the waters remained uncontaminated, or perhaps they had cleared naturally before the refugees arrived. It remained a blessing she cherished, though life became increasingly difficult as they crossed the countryside. Local inhabitants wanted no part of them and warned them with spears and armed bows to move on. Many of the younger men, feeling warlike and proud after the slaughter of Thebes, became marauders, raiding the villages for food and whatever else they could find, making themselves even less welcome. The Hebrews became nomads, moving from place to place, searching for a home. They even returned to Midian for a time, where they wreaked such havoc that they shamed Moshe, until Zippora felt certain he regretted ever going back to Egypt. Their lives could have remained so peaceful if only they had stayed in Midian after Gershom’s birth.

  Reuel, Moshe and Aaron studied the stars on every clear night, watching as the Staff of God grew s
maller with distance. They watched in fascination and uneasy dismay as it approached a small, red planet and dragged it out of its normal path so it trailed after the great comet like a dog following its master. Some saw this as a positive sign for the faithful, following behind God and holding to his staff of righteousness. But Reuel saw it as a sign of conflict, God doing battle in the heavens with a lesser deity, the god of love pitted against the god of war.

  Winter came and Reuel’s health suddenly declined. He lived just long enough to see Naomi married and a second son born to Zippora. After Reuel’s passing, Moshe had no heart to stay where few others welcomed them. He gathered his followers and moved on, into the wilderness once again, taking the daughters of Jethro and their flocks with him.

  Of the older folk in his congregation, the married and settled men with wives and children, Moshe had no complaints. For the most part, they seemed good people, following the teachings of the One God devoutly. However, after the slaughter of Thebes, many of the hotheaded young men saw themselves as triumphant warriors. They became boastful and arrogant, especially since they mostly were also the ones with stolen wealth to flaunt. This material inequity caused envy, covetousness and quarreling. Theft and even murder became all too common, and Moshe began to despair. He had never aspired to become a leader of people, and even now preferred when Aaron shouldered that responsibility. But the people saw Moshe as God’s prophet who led them out of slavery. It was to Moshe they looked for direction. And no great inspirations came to him, only sorrow to see so many of the people stray from the paths of righteousness.

  Zippora finished her washing and spread it out on the bushes to dry in the unrelenting sun. She wondered where Moshe strayed to this time. Lately he disappeared for alarming lengths of time, alone into the wilderness, seeking some revelation from God, some sign of what he should do next. He remained absent this time for almost a full span of the moon’s phases. As twilight approached, she looked up at the sky. The Staff of God once again grew larger in the night, still followed by the red planet. Sometime through its battle with the smaller sphere, the great comet had acquired spectral horns, signs of the atmospheric turbulence caused by the battle with its smaller opponent. Zippora dreaded a repeat of the natural catastrophes it wrought last time. Nearly five years later, many of the mountains still smoked, including this one at whose foot they camped, waiting for Moshe’s return.

  As she gathered her dried clothing and started home to the family tent, Zippora heard sounds of conflict and revelry growing louder in a distant quarter of the encampment. The sounds gave her an uneasy feeling. The young men sounded intoxicated and close to out of control. She and her family settled to eat supper together when those distant voices began to grow louder, demanding and aggressive. The girls huddled in fear, with only Naomi’s young husband to stand alone in their defense. At last, the voices came from outside their own tent.

  “We are making a sacrifice to the One God!” they demanded. “Surrender your gold! Bring it to us now, or we will come in and get it!”

  Naomi’s husband, hardly more than a boy, bravely stepped out to face them. In a mild voice he said, “A sacrifice taken by force is no sacrifice at all, but simple theft.”

  Four men stood before him. They knew this for the tent of Moshe, the prophet of God, but how could they demand a sacrifice from everyone if their spiritual leader sacrificed nothing?

  “Those who have much must give much. Those who have little must give what they can.”

  “We have no gold,” the young man stated flatly. Almost before he completed his sentence, one of the men struck him unconscious and all four entered the tent. They searched it thoroughly, leaving a mess in their wake, and found no gold. They leered at the frightened women but did not touch them. Finding nothing of value or interest, they moved on to the next tent.

  “What is happening to us?” Zippora wondered aloud as she helped Naomi carry her husband to his bed. “Our people are turning on one another, robbing and attacking one another. And how can one sacrifice gold to the One God? What use has God for gold? I wish Moshe would come back. With Aaron out looking for him, we have no one left with authority to make them listen to reason.”

  * * *

  Several days later, when she saw what the men had done with the gold, she did wonder if they might not have the right idea — to take the gold away from those who hoarded too much and make one magnificent object that belonged to everyone equally. They had melted it all down and cast it into a great, gleaming statue of pure gold. The body of it looked long and sinuous like a snake with a horned head and legs. She realized they meant it to represent the Staff of God, but the legs gave it a distinctly earthly appearance, more like a cow. Then, to her horror, she saw people bowing to it, leaving sacrifices of food and flowers at its feet, even praying before it! How would the One God react to this transference of their allegiance to a mere lump of gold? She shuddered to imagine the disasters the God’s anger might heap upon their heads.

  * * *

  High on the mountain, Moshe sat cross-legged on the ground. For almost a month he remained, breathing the poisonous fumes of the volcano whenever the wind shifted in his direction, waiting for God to inspire him with a vision. He needed some way to bind his people to a code of behavior that would follow God’s will. If he failed to keep them holding fast to God’s staff of righteousness, he might as well have left them to die in slavery.

  For the first week he prayed and fasted, until, overcome by the sulfurous gases, he fell into delirious dreams. God appeared to him as a burning bush, but not like the fire of Horeb’s eruption. This burning bush looked bright, silvery and beautiful with life, not death. With awe he realized he was seeing the Tree of Life, burning with God’s energy, each tiny spark representing a single point of existence, a single, interconnected cell in a great, shining whole. From this glorious vision, a voice spoke to him, carving God’s commandments into his heart and memory. When he woke, Moshe immediately set to work. Out of the warm clay that oozed and bubbled from a wound in the side of the mountain, he formed tablets and allowed them to dry in the sun. While they remained pliable, he quickly incised God’s commandments into the soft clay. Once completely dried, he put them into an earth oven and baked the clay to a stone-like hardness. Most of the Hebrews could not read, but the very fact that the words were written down and concrete would add extra weight, perhaps enough to sway an errant soul toward God’s will.

  Filled once more with hope and inspiration, Moshe started down the mountain, carrying the heavy tablets. When he neared the camp, he paused on an overlook to observe the activity below, and his heart froze with horror. The people had rearranged the entire camp into concentric circles around a gold, calf-like statue. An altar rested before this golden idol and on it lay the blood and charred remains of a recent sacrifice, and even at such a distance the remains looked unmistakably human. Smaller sacrifices of food and flowers lay piled around the statue’s feet and rolling among them lay numerous human bodies entwined in lustful embrace.

  Feeling sick, Moshe retreated out of sight until he slumped to the ground in numb despair. He had failed. Miserably. His followers had already broken every one of God’s commandments. He had failed as their leader, and he had failed as God’s prophet.

  Toward late afternoon, Aaron found Moshe at last, having searched the mountain for five days. He sat down beside his brother and just waited for him to speak. Some time passed before Moshe at last asked, “Did you see what they have done?”

  Aaron nodded. “Things began to deteriorate a few days after you left. They wouldn’t listen to me. I’m just a lowly priest, not the Prophet of God. So I came looking for you, hoping you had found an answer.”

  “God spoke to me, but I returned too late to stop this madness. We have failed.”

  “Not yet, brother. You only fail when you stop trying.”

  Moshe looked at Aaron, grief stricken, and said, “I carry God’s commandments, carved in ston
e, but the people have broken every one before I could even deliver them.”

  Aaron frowned and nodded in thoughtful silence. After a moment’s consideration, he said, “Do you remember when Gershom saw his first porcupine? He teased it and received a fist full of quills. He had no idea the consequences he would suffer, and painful though that lesson felt, he learned from it. Afterwards you taught him how to deal with such creatures and he came to love the taste of roasted porcupine. But until you taught him the way, he had to just stumble along and suffer the pains of gaining experience.”

  “Our people are not children. God brought them out of slavery with miraculous plagues. His staff showed us the way and protected us when Pharaoh pursued us. How can they turn away from his path now?”

  Again, Aaron thought before answering. “No, our people are not children. But they have lived as slaves, controlled and directed for generations. They have adopted some of the religious customs of their Egyptian masters, not realizing any harm in it, just as Gershom did not recognize any harm in the porcupine. God’s path looks clear to you because he speaks to you. But they can’t see that path so clearly. The young in particular feel so drunk on freedom that they believe freedom means doing whatever they choose, no matter who it hurts. They need you to lay out a righteous path for them, for all of us. Your duty is to listen to God’s voice and relay his will to the people. You have yet to complete that task. Once you have, it becomes the job of the priests to guide them and see that they stay on that path. Then your duty will become providing a good example for the young and errant, a duty you will share with all who adhere to God’s will. You are not alone in this, Moshe. And you haven’t failed unless you’ve given up.”