The thunder silenced. The people stilled. Then the deep, strong voice of Yahweh rumbled from the mountain.
“I am Yahweh, who freed you from slavery, and rescued you from Egypt.”
If thunder could form words, it would sound very much like Yahweh. The earth under Bezalel’s feet quaked. The shiver ran all the way up through his body. His heart beat rapidly.
“You must have no other gods but Me.
“You must not make any idols.
“You must not misuse My name.
“Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.
“Honor your father and your mother, so that you will have a long and happy life in the land I am giving you.”
Bezalel’s upper arm stung. When he glanced down, he saw Meri’s fingernails digging into his skin. Her eyes squeezed shut so tightly her nose wrinkled up. Her body shook violently.
On the other side of Meri, Ahmose grasped Kamose’s hand, and the soldier picked him up and held him close. Ahmose wrapped his small arms around Kamose’s neck and hid his face. Kamose pulled at his tiny fingers to loosen the grip.
The voice continued. “You must not murder.
“You must not commit adultery.
“You must not steal.
“You must not give false testimony against your neighbor.
“You must not covet anything that belongs to your neighbor.”
The voice stopped as suddenly as it began, and the mountain rumbled.
One by one, the people dropped to their knees. Some fell on their faces. They raised their hands and cried out to Moses. “Let Yahweh talk to you, not to us! You can tell us what He says. We shall not live if we hear the voice of Yahweh. He must speak through you!”
The cries continued, and Moses relented. “The word of Yahweh to you then, is finished.” The lower peaks acted like an auditorium, and his voice was heard as clearly as Yahweh’s. “I shall receive the rest of Yahweh’s word to you and I will bring it to you in the morning.”
The people dispersed.
At their tents, Bezalel looked to Sabba. “I don’t understand. What happened? We all spend three days getting ready for this, and it lasts only a few moments. What was the point?”
“The point was we aren’t ready.” Sabba shrugged. “Yahweh was ready for us, but we aren’t ready for Him. Not yet.”
“But they didn’t even seem to want to try.”
Sabba walked toward the gardens that reached into the foothills of the lower peaks, his hands clasped behind his back. “Some did. Not all. For four hundred years, El Shaddai has been silent. He was there, He was watching, waiting, but we did not hear Him, even in our hearts. Most of us lost faith He even existed.”
“You never did, did you? You always believed.”
“No. I always knew He was there, waiting.”
Bezalel huffed and spread his hands. “Why? In the midst of all the suffering, the pain, the questions, you never gave up. When Savta was taken, whom I never even got to know; when Abba died; when I was sent to the palace—why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Shaddai gave me a gift as well, a gift of faith. But I was not the only one. There always had to be some of us who believed, until He was ready to come back for us. This is a new thing, to all of us but Moses. It will take some getting used to. We always had El Shaddai, God Almighty. He is the God who promised to give Abraham descendants like the sands on the ocean, and the land for them to live in.”
Sabba stopped and faced Bezalel. “But now He wants to have a deeper relationship with us, to make us His people, to be the God that lives with us, among us. He has revealed to us a new name, Yahweh. We’ve heard of His name before, of course, but now He has given it to us to use, has told us what it means. It means He is here now, will be among us forever now. He will never leave us again.”
“Then why does everyone want to run away?”
“Again, not everyone. It’s a little like falling in love. It can be scary. Sometimes you back off.”
“I didn’t.”
Sabba smiled. “Ah, but you were ready. You were lonely. We are not all so lucky. You were also trying to protect her. That gives one courage. When I met your savta, she scared me senseless.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I avoided her for weeks after I first met her. But I got over it. And then I married her.”
Bezalel laughed.
Sabba put his arm around Bezalel and headed for the gardens again. “And we’ll get past this too. We’ll all be fine. It will just take time.”
Nineteen
10 Tammuz
Bezalel and Kamose stood next to Sabba in front of Moses’s tent as Michael continued his angry tirade. Five brawny friends stood in a circle behind him. “What’s he doing up there, anyway? When’s he coming down? He’s been gone for over a month now!”
“He is talking to Yahweh.” Sabba’s body stiffened as he enunciated each word.
“You know what I think?” Michael shoved his finger in Sabba’s chest. “I think he left. I think he went down the other side and is never coming back.”
“A man eighty years old could find an easier way to leave than by climbing up and down a mountain.” Bezalel reached over and removed Michael’s finger from Sabba’s chest. “Besides, why would he leave?”
“Because he brought us out here and now he doesn’t know what to do with us. He’s scared.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Sabba asked. “That we go back to Egypt?”
Michael smirked. “Why not? We had food and houses, and ways of getting out of slavery there if you really wanted to.”
Bezalel scoffed. “Only by becoming one of them! Is that what you would do?” He couldn’t accept the idea of voluntarily selling out to the Egyptians. Some Israelites had done it, but at the expense of losing all friends and family.
“You should know.” Michael’s voice was cold. His friends snickered.
“I’ve told you before, I had no choice.”
Michael raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know. You seem surrounded by them even now. There’s your bodyguard here, that little imp running around, and I heard you even married one.”
Bezalel closed the space between Michael and himself. “Do not bring my wife into this.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Right, right, I’m sure you love her.”
Bezalel clenched his jaw.
“And I hear—” Michael laughed as he looked back at his friends “—she is very good at loving you back.”
Blood and heat rushed to Bezalel’s head. A rage not known since the soldier had thrown Ahmose against the wall took over and he drew back his right arm and rammed his fist into Michael’s face. He attempted to follow with his left but found it restrained.
Breathing hard, he turned around to see Kamose grasping his upper arm in a solid grip. “What are you doing?” Bezalel tried to wrench his arm free.
Kamose stared him down. “Protecting you.”
Bezalel glanced at Michael, who had stumbled back a few steps and stood rubbing his bruised and bleeding nose. His cohorts stood around him, faces red and hands fisted, but apparently unwilling to take on Kamose to get to Bezalel.
“From him?” Bezalel, his brow furrowed and mouth hanging open, jerked his thumb toward Michael.
“No.” Kamose freed Bezalel’s arm. “From yourself.”
Bezalel huffed and turned to face Michael again.
Michael stepped back toward the group, and again jabbed his finger at Sabba. “What you don’t want to admit is that this crowd is stranded out in the middle of this desert, that we are going to die out here, and that a bunch of crazy old men—including you—is leading us nowhere. And I for one am going to do something about it!”
Sabba leaned toward Michael. “And you don’t want to admit that you are a little boy trying to be a big man, with no idea about how to do that other than to make others look small. I haven’t heard of anyone, except you and your friends here, who wants to return to Egypt. You stir up trouble
because it is the only way you can get attention. We are not going back. Stop acting like a child and grow up.”
Heat flared in Michael’s eyes. His hands clenched into fists as he backed up a few steps. Then he stormed off without looking back.
Aaron paced as Sabba, Bezalel, and Nahshon waited for him to speak. “What am I supposed to do with this information? If Moses were here, he could calm them. But I don’t think they will listen to us. They’re a mob, ready to stone us. Moses is the only one who can handle them, and he is still on the mountain. He’s been there five Sabbaths.”
“Did he say when he would be back?” Bezalel looked to Aaron.
Aaron stopped pacing. “No. He just took Joshua and left, said we should wait for him.”
“Just let them complain.” Sabba waved a hand. “There will always be those who complain and grumble. They complained in Egypt and they complain here. And my guess is they will complain in Canaan as well. Nothing will come of it if we ignore it.”
“But I can’t stand to hear them moaning and groaning all the time. Isn’t there something we can do?” Aaron said.
“Not until Moses comes back.” Sabba shook his head.
Aaron settled his fists on his hips. “Moses is not the only leader. Yahweh sent me to Egypt as well. I did most of the talking to Pharaoh, as a matter of fact. I always do most of the talking.” He stuck out his jaw. “I am the oldest. Everyone forgets that.”
Nahshon placed his hand on Aaron’s back. “We know, Aaron. That’s not what anyone meant.”
“It is usually best to let these things run their courses, instead of interfering. You could just make it worse,” Sabba said.
“But I could stop it for good, too.”
Bezalel rubbed his beard. “You could, but it’s doubtful.”
“And that’s quite a risk. Are you willing to risk so much when you could just wait a few days?” Sabba raised an eybrow.
Aaron shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
16 Tammuz
The sound of tambourines, drums, laughter, and singing floated into Bezalel’s tent. He pulled back the flap and rubbed his eyes. The sun barely peeked over Mount Sinai. At the base of the mountain, a growing crowd of people appeared to be celebrating. Had Moses come down?
Bezalel peeked back at Meri, still curled up amongst the cushions, asleep. He crawled out and peered in the next tent.
“Sabba? I think Moses has returned.”
Sabba looked out. “Why do you say that?”
“There is rejoicing at the mountain’s base.”
Kamose stepped out of the tent, fastening his dagger to his hip. He tilted his head toward the noise. “That doesn’t sound right. It sounds … drunken.”
Sabba crawled out after Kamose. “Go get Aaron.” Sabba gestured toward Moses and Aaron’s tent.
Bezalel went to the tent and looked inside. He turned back to Sabba. “There is no one in here.”
They walked toward the festivity, scanning the area for Aaron. Up on a massive boulder that lay nestled next to the base of the adjoining mountain, Bezalel spotted Nahshon looking down on the gathering, and sprinted toward him. “They’re up there!”
They scrambled up smaller rocks to reach Aaron sitting curled up in a ball, his head wrapped in his arms. Nahshon sat next to him, his hand on his brother-in-law’s back. “He won’t say much. Just keeps saying he did something terrible.” He pointed toward Sabba as he stood. “Maybe he’ll talk to you.”
Bezalel, Nahshon, and Kamose climbed to a lower rock. Below them thousands of younger Israelites danced and caroused around a platform in the middle of the open, grassy area in front of Mount Sinai. A gold sculpture about the size of a man but in the form of a bull, its head lifted to the sky, stood on a raised structure built hastily of acacia wood. Revelers swayed, kissed, banged tambourines, and played flutes. Some held plates of manna in offering to the idol.
The music pulsed in Bezalel’s head and his stomach churned. Beside him, Nahshon’s lip curled in disgust. Kamose stood, arms crossed, feet apart, his lips in a thin line.
Pebbles skittered behind them. Sabba stumbled but regained his footing. “Aaron did something which is indeed ‘terrible.’ But he wants you to know why he did it.”
“What did he do?” Bezalel tore his gaze from the revelers. “What could be so terrible?”
“Michael came to Aaron and asked him to make a god. Aaron, in his desire to stop the grumbling, gave in. He hoped the people would see that Yahweh is the only true God, and that an idol can do nothing. But he underestimated Michael.”
“As did we all.” Nahshon sounded bitter.
“Michael told the people that the idol brought them out of Egypt, and they are now celebrating and worshipping it.”
Nahshon raised his eyebrows. “They are what?”
Sabba nodded. “You heard me.”
Bezalel surveyed the rabble at the bottom of the mountain. “We’ve got to stop them!”
Sabba shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. A great number is involved. How do you suggest we stop them?”
Bezalel spread his hands. “I don’t know. But we can’t just let it continue.”
“It is past the point of stopping. There will be retribution for this.”
“Retribution? From whom?”
“From Yahweh. He gave us His laws, and we broke them. There will be consequences.”
“But we didn’t do it. They did!” Bezalel pointed toward the revelers. How could He hold us responsible?
“There is no difference in a covenant. Yahweh made a covenant with Israel, and Israel broke it. That’s all there is to it.”
Fear coiled around Bezalel’s heart like a serpent. “What will happen to us?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”
The full moon rose over the mountain, but the celebration continued unabated. Bezalel and Nahshon remained with Aaron.
At last Aaron unfolded his limbs. He joined the pair as they contemplated the depraved scene below them. Fires around the idol cast unnatural shadows over the festivities. Men and women danced, ate, and drank. Music competed with laughter and shouting. Aaron watched the debauchery then ran behind the rock and vomited.
Bezalel surveyed the revelry. As his gaze lingered on those dancing around the idol, he recognized Michael’s unmistakable form. Both he and the young girl he clutched to him were naked above the waist, as were countless others. If he had not known there was only water to drink, he would have sworn the whole group was drunk.
Young men and women were doing things that should never be seen in public. They didn’t seem to care who was watching, or even whom they were with. They changed partners constantly.
Bezalel was astonished at the complete lack of inhibition. After a time, his stomach stopped churning and his eyes grew moist. The revelers continually offered praise and food and drink to the calf, thanking it for its provision. Precious lambs and goats had been slaughtered. They had no real knowledge of Yahweh. The covenant they had made only weeks ago meant nothing to them.
Bezalel glanced back over his shoulder at Aaron. Nahshon knelt near him. Tears flowing freely down Aaron’s face glimmered in the moonlight. His heart seemed to break within him, and there was an almost visible weight on his shoulders.
“What have I done? What have I done?” His plaintive cry rang through the star-filled night.
Did Yahweh even hear it? Or had He already abandoned them?
17 Tammuz
In the cool, gray morning light, Bezalel stepped outside his tent, where Nahshon waited for him. “Any more news?”
Nahshon shook his head. “Someone said they thought they saw Moses and Joshua coming down last night just before sunset, but they weren’t sure. I think we should go get Aaron and Hur, anyway.”
“How is he?”
“Aaron? He is nearly destroyed with grief. Everything just happened so fast for him. He doesn’t even want to see Moses, doesn’t know what to
tell him.”
“What is there to tell? It happened. Aaron is no match for this crowd. No one is. Except maybe Moses, and he has Yahweh telling him what to do.”
They reached Aaron’s tent just as he and Sabba came outside. From the base of the mountain, the sounds of the wild festival continued.
“There are too many for us to do anything. How can we stop them?” Aaron moaned, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
“Aaron!”
Bezalel jumped at Moses’s voice. He hadn’t seen him draw near. Joshua stood behind him, holding two tablets made of stone, writing carved into them.
“What is going on here?” Moses bellowed. “Yahweh stopped giving the Law to send me down here. We were almost done. Why?”
“The people are worshipping an idol. That is the noise you hear. They started yesterday morning and continued through the night.” Sabba spoke calmly and without laying blame.
Moses narrowed his eyes. “Where did it come from?”
Aaron finally answered, his voice filled with pain. “They begged me for an idol. They were afraid you were dead. So I asked for all their gold jewelry. I never thought they would go along with it. But they did. So I threw all the gold into the fire, and that calf came out.” He raised his arms toward the idol.
“It just came out? All by itself?”
Aaron refused to look at his brother.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter!” Moses dropped to his knees, his head in his hands. “Oh, Yahweh, You were right! Oh, why did I stop You? Why?” He raised his head and fisted his hands. “Now these stiff-necked people, who refuse to lower their heads to You, are bowing to a calf! An idol, which cannot hear them or see them, while they ignore the God Who brought them out of Egypt. They made a covenant they had no intention of keeping. Well, now they shall keep it! One way or another!”
Bezalel looked at Joshua, but Joshua just shrugged his shoulders and returned the same blank stare.
Aaron hung his head as tears welled in his eyes.
Moses marched off toward the mountain’s base, yelling for Joshua.
Joshua ran to catch up, with Sabba, Bezalel, and Nahshon close behind him.
In the Shadow of Sinai Page 22