This next section seems to me to illustrate very clearly that several different sources or traditions have been brought together in one place - the chronology is untidy and the text is somewhat repetitive. It is also part of the most familiar aspect of the story and so possibly one that we think we know inisde out.
The Status of Moses, and the Act of Plundering
This section opens with a statement about the status of Moses - a man of great importance in the land of Egypt, in the sight of Pharaoh's officials and in the sight of the people. This pretty much follows on from the shift observed in the preceding accounts of the plagues, but here it is stated unambiguously.
When Moses tells the people to ask their Egyptian neighbours for silver and gold, the neighbours readily comply... they are probably by now willing to do anything to rid themselves of the Hebrews. This plundering of the Egyptians, which is restated further on in this pair of chapters (possibly from a different original source) does not make for easy reading, it offends my sensibilties at the very least.
Reading this reminds me of the question that emerged for me when I saw the film "Suffragette" and the tendency to romanticise and even justify vandalism and worse because these were the 'goodies'... that peaceful means had failed and now the women resorted to letter bombs and smashing windows. I grew up viewing the Hebrews as the goodies and the Egyptians as the baddies - it all seemed so simple and reasonable to a child!
I struggle with the justification of violence and crime, but it does seem to be something that recurs throughout history and that, when a story is retold looking backwards, such behavour is assimilated into acceptability, so oong as it was perpetrated by the vcitors. Which means, perhaps, that instead of raging at the Biblical narrative, we may do well to ask ourselves how we tell the stories of our own time, what distortions or justifications we employ to justify our actions or attitudes.
A New Calendar and a New Ritual
The flow of the narrative is disrupted - and the chronology fouled up - by the detailed description of the establishment of a new calendar and a new, perpetual ordinance. (In the opening verses Moses announces the death of the first born as imminent, now we discover that preparations will take have taken several days).
A new calendar - a new beginning, potentially a paradigm shift. This is to be 'day one of month one' and on day ten you are to choose the lamb/kid that will be eaten. Four days later the animal is slaughtered, blood daubed on lintels, and the meal hastily eaten.
This seems a very stark and significant moment in the story of these people. A line drawn in the sand. An irrevocable change. I wonder if it felt like that, or if, at the time it was just another demand from Moses? Was it only later that they could look back and say 'this was the defining moment'? The way the text is worded, what we have is the institution of a religious ritual, a 'perpetual ordinance' not plans for an escape from a hostile land! Strict rules for cleansing of homes, purging all leaven and the stern consequences for failure to comply. Seven days in which no work is permitted beyond the preparation of meals (which surely would not have been feasible for slaves in Egypt). I am pretty sure this is a 'writing back' of later practice.
What strikes me is something about our personal calendars and rituals, as inidividuals, families and as churches. Our practice of marking birthdays and anniversaries is tantamount to 'new calendars', as is the commemoration of significant dates in the lives of communities and nations. From this point, this birth, this marriage, this diagnosis, this ordination, this divorce, this new job...
Whether it is red roses and unsigned cards for Valentine's day, candles on a birthday cake, the laying of flowers at a grave or any number of other things, we have our own perpetual ordinances, the rituals that shape our lives.
When my little church in Dibley was forced to move out of our building, I developed a careful 'ritual', a service to mark that ending-beginning. That wasn't a 'lasting ordinance' no-one keeps 'leaving the building' day; nonetheless it was important in its own right.
Rituals around significant events are important, what merits further thought, perhaps, is which of these are 'lasting ordinances' and which are definitely 'one off'.
When your children ask...
The Passover Seder is built around children asking questions. This echoes the establishment of the Passover ritual we read here... when your children ask 'why' this is what you are to tell them.
I wonder what aspects of our faith and life might prompt questions from our children, and what responses we might offer? I wonder too, if the ritualised remembering of the Passover has a sense of catechesis lost to our much more ad hoc, informal responses to questions? Might there be merit in creating rites/rituals around our own major festivals and practices that are based on questions? I do recall a creative communion liturgy used first at the BUGB-BMS Assembly (and then borrowed by the BUS-BMS Assembly!) that did just that - two children as 'observers' asking and exploring questions about what the adults were doing.
Only for Insiders
The Passover ritual is a 'closed' rite - only circumcised men may partake, foreigners or slaves are excluded unless they are first circumcised, women and children are included implicitly provided they are racially Hebrew. In our age of 'open' Communion, and increasingly with a welcome extended to all comers, this seems very strange. The restriction is ritualised and possibly as much racial as it is religious. In the context of an emergent nation, seeking to establish itself, such restrictions make some degree of sense - to open this rite to all and sundry would be to dilute their national-religious identity. The context is utterly different from that we experience on a typical Sunday morning, even though the rite we share emerged from this ancient practice.
There is a question to ponder, though, and that is about the insider/outsider distinction, and the place of formal, covenanted Church membership. At one level, the legal frameworks of this nation necessitates such distinction, at least when it comes to matters of charitable governance and employment. At another level, even when couched in the softest of terms, as covenant comitment to walk together, with God, it is anathema to some people, for all sorts of reasons. I don't have any answers, and I don't think there are any easy solutions... even if it continues to frustrate me that sometimes people will express commitment to a community covenant and still decline to covenant as members! Ah well. That's me and my opinions.
A Journey Begins
This section sees the Hebrew people begin their long journey. After '430' years (or umpteen generations anyway) they leave behind all that they have ever known and head off from Ramases to Succoth. I wonder what emotions they experienced? What were there hopes and dreams? Their fears and anxieties?
I wonder, too, how we feel on the brink of our own new journeys, whatever they may be? Sometimes we just have to take the first steps and find out!