Three chapters again today - once I realised what I was reading it seemd a mite daft to stop part way through.

Moses, up on the mountain for a very long time, is receiving detailed instructions for the 'flat pack' temple that is to serve as the centre for religious ritual for the foreseeable future.  The level of detail is incredible and allows artists and flim-makers alike to create replicas that almost certainly are a reasonable representation of what is described.

As I read the description of the tent and its frames, a rather mischievous thought came to my head of this as an IKEA product... read the numers of loops and fastenings, pegs and poles and you may see what I mean!  Almost more scary is this model making kit than can be purchased.

To what purpose this waste?

The descriptions are incredible - seemingly obscene amounts of precious metals and fine fabrics are to employed to create this tent and its contents.  How can this be justified?  Surely there are better, more practical uses to which these riches can be employed? 

Throughout history people have created vast, ornate, beautiful edifices dedicated to the glory of God.  Peasants offering, or having demanded from them, whatever they owned to further the endeavour.  And towns and cities vying with one another to have the tallest steeple, the most ornate altarpiece, the finest organ or whatever it may have been.

There is always the risk that beautiful buildings are dedicated "to the glory of NNN and in memory of God" as someone once said to me about a church I was visiting.

And yet... the story of the woman who annointed the feet of Jesus and prompted the question, "to what purpose this waste" always gives me pause.  Life is fleeting and fragile, in the medieval period, when many of the great cathedrals were emerging it, was often short and  brutal.  Maybe this was what people could do... they couldn't read or write, but they could carve stone or wood, could undertake practical tasks to make something beautiful for God.  Most of them would never see the end result, but I guess they would die knowing they had contributed to something greater.

I have to confess I struggle with beautiful buildings that seem to suck resources, human and financial, that could be more helpfully employed elsewhere.  I do tend to see church premises as 'plant' as something functional, where 'fit for purpose' is the primary aim.  And yet... there is something valid and vital about aesthetics... which is why I straighten table cloths, line up hymnbooks, and tweak the layout of chairs!!

One for me to wrestle with, I think.

"From those whose hearts prompt them"

Right at the start of this complex desciption, God asks that "those whose hearts prompt them..." give of their resources for the creation of the Ark, Tabernacle, Altar and associated accoutrements.

This is really important - not a levy, not a tax, not a membership fee or a service charge (though at least some of these will emrge later for other reasons) - a free will offering by those who feel they wish to give.

Experience shows me, both in the Gathering Place and in Dibley, that 'Gift Days' or 'Pledge Days' allow huge levels of generosity to be expressed by those who feel 'led' or 'called' or 'moved' so to do. 

Not everyone can give financially, and when we invited pledges a couple of years back, we deliberately included what we termed 'soft pledges' - offers of practical help and prayerful support, offers that were concrete and definable, offers that were nebulous and de facto unmeasureable.

The key was, and is the voluntary nature... which appears in the small print of this section of Exodus.

Graven Images?

When I first moved to Dibley someone asked me, in total seriousness, whether the wooden cross in the porch constituted a graven image.  I was a little thrown by this, since throughout most of my life protestant nonconformist churches had proudly boasted about their 'empty crosses.'

The commandments in Exodus 20 prohibit graven images to be made of anything in heaven, on earth or in the waters under the earth, yet now in the plans for the Temple we find golden cherubs, and lamp holders shaped like flowers... what is going on?

The commandment clearly refers to idols - objects made to be venerated in their own right - rather than to decorations.  But as I noted above, it is all to easy to slide into situations where servicing the ornament outweighs its original intent.

Early Baptists built plain chapels; by Victorian times geometic and abstract designs had appeared with a lick of gold paint here and there.  Nowadays banners and posters, photos and video screens are commonplace.  Notwithstanding anything I've already said, I think it's generally a good thing that we have learned to value and enjoy art and creativity rather than maintaining a stark puritanical approach.  At the same time, there does seem to be a fine line between valuing, appreciating, enjoying and even 'sanctifying' something and sliding into idolatry or even servitude of that same thing.

The Hebrew people were to create for themselves an amazing Tablernacle, a portable temple that would 'shout' the power and majesty of their God to anyone who cared to see them.  The contrast between their own nomadic, peasant existence and the esteem in which they were to hold their God is as challenging today as it was then.  Certainly it challenges me to evaluate how I employ the resources entrusted to me.

Today's chunk of text illustrates brilliantly what happens if you accept the artificial divisons imposed over the centuries, as the first bit more properly belongs with the end of yesterday's material, and what follows is a bit of a hotchpotch to say the least.

Justice for All

The section begins with a series of rules designed to ensure justice for all, irrespective of wealth and influence.  Perverting the course of justice, even under the strong influence of others, is not acceptable. 

I think it was the peer pressure element that struck me, and how difficult it can be to stand up for views that seem not to be shared by others whose opinons or friendships we value, or who we perceive as the 'gatekeepers' within communities or organisations.  To 'go with the flow' can be as bad as to actively behave in unjust ways.  We know that, it just isn't always so easy (a) to recognise when we do so and (b) to change it when we do.

Rest and Ritual

Clearly refering to a settled society, comes the instruction to allow a sabbath for the land - a year in which the fields, orchards and vineyards may 'rest' and restore themselves after six years of cultivation.  And a reminder of the Sabbath day as a routine rest day for people and animals alike.  Perhaps the repetition shows that the temptations of intensive farming and relentless human endeavour were as real then as they are now.  I recall when at primary schoool, how we were taught about the introduction of three-field crop rotation system and even then I felt it was prefigured in the Bible...  However the ancients came upon this model of farming, like many other agricultural 'rules' practised by earlier societies, it has taken until recent times for science to understand why they were a good idea.

Three 'lasting ordinances' are specified - the Passover, the First Fruits (Spring Harvest) and the In-gathering (Autumn Harvest).  Inherent in these rituals is something both about dependence on God as liberator and provider, and of the rootedness of the people within the natural world.   The festivals kept by the Church bear little resemblance to these ancient rituals, either in style or purpose, and, though sometimes one might be forgiven for thinking otherwise, not one of our major festivals is a divinely mandated 'lasting ordinance'.  Were we to search the New Testament for anything that might constitute their equivalents we find only 'Breaking bread', 'Baptism' and possibly 'Foot-washing'.  I wonder how we might feel were the church to abandon Christmas, Easter and Pentecost?  It is certainly worth pondering why we choose these and what it is we think they are all about...

Meat and Milk

In what seems a random addition, comes the prohibition of eating a kid boiled in its mother's milk.  Jewish dietary laws to this day prohibit the consumption of meat and dairy at the same meal.  A roast dinner followed by pie and custard, or trifle, or ice-cream is out.  Quite what the logic is, I don't know and any ancient explanation is long since lost.  To me, it always seemed like the epitome of cruelty and disregard for the animals involved, but I doubt that is the reason; more likely it had some cultic or idolatrous significance.  Whilst we are unlikely to to be troubled by the literal ruling here, maybe it does remind us to think about where our food comes from and the welfare of the animals raised either for dairy or meat production.

Having stopped eating meat on other grounds (it just seems terribly hypocritical foe me to eat meat when I would no longer be willing to slaughter or butcher the animal myself. I don't need or expect anyone else to agree or do likewise) I am fairly safe on the literal probibition, but I still think there are questions to ask of myself about farming methods, manufacturing processes and so on.

Whose Land is it Anyway?

As the story is told, the Hebrews are the 'goodies', and the land that God has promsied them is occupied by assorted 'baddies' who need to be expelled and preferably exterminated in order to rid the land of their influence and religion.

To contemporary thinkers, informed by, for example the revisionist histories of North America, Australia and New Zealand which recognise the horrors inflicted on indigenous, 'first-nation' 'aboriginal' and 'maori' people, this apsect of the Exodus story is as a minimum disquieting.

History is, traditionally, told from the perspective of the victors.  The role of God is interpretted as favouring those who triumph.  In our Post Modern age such claims cannot pass unchallenged... and when we read this material in Exodus we find ourselves uneasy.

Two lines of thought strike me.

Firstly, there seems to my simplistic reading a bit of an inconsistency within the text as we have it.  In the preceding rules and regulations, perceived by scholars to be the "Book of the Covenant" referred to a little further on in this chunk, are clear instructions to treat well those who are 'resident aliens' and ensure that their rights are protected.  Now, the natural residents of the land are to be displaced by marauding aliens, claiming divine warrant for their actions.  I don't have the knowledge to try to relate any of this to the ongoing situation in Israel-Palestine, but I do see how assertions of divine mandate lead to demonisation of the 'other' and appalling treamtent of the residents who are now defined as aliens.

The second thought is that this a newly emergent nation, and that like all new 'movements' survival is often equated with 'purity'; rules as to who is 'in and 'out' are very clear, and sometimes behaviour is extreme.  It doesn't mean that the behaviour is right, but it is perhaps understandable, at least in principle.  There is certainly no part of the Christian Church that can hold up its hands and say "never did we behave like that."  Drownings of Baptists, burning of heretics, the Spanish Inqusition, the Crusades... let the one with no sin cast the first stone.  At the same time, let us not forget the darker side of our own story but instead learn lessons from it.

"Ding ding! Flash, flash!"

One of my 'A' level Maths teachers use to make this exclamation when he same aross something that he felt ought to 'ring bells' or 'flash lights' as we made connections with other topics or techniques.  I have long since forgotten the majority of the maths, but the expression remains!

Twice in this account I noticed details that had the 'ding, ding' effect as I made connections with the New Testament... whether the NT writers anticipated such connections being made, or whether they are mine, who knows, but for anyone who reads the scriptures closely, such moments may well arise.

Firstly, Moses along with Aaron, Nadab, Abihu and seventy elders go up the mountain and see God.  Seventy, like seven and forty, is one of those Biblical symbol numbers, so it's use is significant.  As I read the words, I was reminded of the time that Jesus sent out either 70 or 72 (depending which source is used) disciples.  For someone with a Jewish background the potential significance of the number would be recognised.  The parallel may perhaps be extended slightly...  Jesus sending of the 72/70 signifies an extension of his ministry and mission; the inclusion of the 70 plus 2 who go with Moses suggests a possible extension of those drawn into the cultic/religious life and leadership of the emergent nation.

Secondly, when the elders see God - which is incredible in its own right - they see something that looks like a 'sapphire pavement'... "flash, flash"... immediately, I was reminded of the vision of heaven described in Revelation, with the 'sea like crystal' and the walls of sapphire.  I could have, but did not, looked more deeply into the significance of 'sapphire'; rather what struck me was the consistency of imagery over hundreds and hundreds of years.  In this complex set of confusing texts, every now and then there are connections just waiting to be made...

Another 'Duff Duff'

The section ends with the Moses and Joshua going up the mountain having left Aaron, Hur and the elders to take care of things.  After six days when the mountain is shrouded in cloud, Moses is called to ascend the mountain - where he remains for 'forty days and forty nights'... a long, long time.

Surely, having encountered God, the elders will be inspired to lead wisely and well?  But Moses is gone for ages... 

OK, we know what happens next, but let's try to pause here, at the edge of the mountain, living our daily lives, trusting these newly appointed leaders, whilst Moses is away doing whatever he's doing...  duff, duff....

Today it really does start to get a bit 'way out' as we plough our way through a long and seemingly disparate set of rules and regulations, an awful lot of which seem to invoke a death sentence.  For the first time since I began this exercise I found myself longing to get to the end of the material.  This temptation to skim or skip would, had I not steadfastly resisted, have meant I'd have missed a couple of important positives right at the end of this section.

What Kind of Society?

The piecemeal nature of the material gathered here, and its allusions to a settled society with fields and wells etc., suggests that these rules will have emerged over time and not been handed out to Moses 'for future reference'.

Many years ago, I recall someone saying that you could deduce an awful lot about a society by the rules it made, because on the whole rules are made in response to bad stuff.  If this is so, then the Hebrews must have been a pretty disfunctional and violent lot!

Many of these rules are concerned with what must happen if someone is killed, deliberately or otherwise.  Some are concerned with the treatment of women - and if what is recorded is anything to go by, however patriarchal the rules, life was a whole lot worse without them.  Family life must have been troubling, with children showing violence and disrespect to their parents (totally contrary to the commandment with blessing attached).

All of which make me think about the laws that are passed, sometimes very rapidly and seemingly with little thought to their unintended consequences, in our own land(s).  A nation that needs to outlaw consumption of certain substances and restrict the use of others; a nation that require legislation around health and safety, trades unions and minimum wages; a nation that feels the need to create laws to reduce a perceived risk of relgious fundamentalism...  And so on, and so forth.

When in the future read the statute books of the UK or of Scotland or of Europe, what might they deduce about us and our values?

[Whilst part way through typing this, a friend called in and when I shared what I was reflecting on, said the kind of issues here made it sound like people who would be ideal for the Jeremy Kyle show... wish I'd thought of that!]

Resident Aliens

God says:

You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt. You shall not abuse any widow or orphan. If you do abuse them, when they cry out to me, I will surely heed their cry; my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children orphans.

Given that we know there will lots of bloodshed and violence before Israel is established as a nation, much of it seeming to our eyes xenophobic, this command is as poignant as it is challenging.

How quickly an oppressed group, once liberated, can become oppressive.  How soon once our goals or desires are satisfied, we are blinded to those of others.  All too easy to forget our own history and assimilate the values and attitudes we once despised.

And how pertinent these words when we think of the current refugee and migrant situation in and around Syria, and indeed of the endeavours by the UK Prime Minister to restrict benefits for EU migrants.  Is our corporate memory so short?  Have we forgotten what it was like before the welfare state (even if only via the history books)?  Have those of us who were bullied or marginalised forgotten how that felt?

Loans to the Poor

God also says:

If you lend money to my people, to the poor among you, you shall not deal with them as a creditor; you shall not exact interest from them. If you take your neighbour’s cloak in pawn, you shall restore it before the sun goes down; for it may be your neighbour’s only clothing to use as cover; in what else shall that person sleep? And if your neighbour cries out to me, I will listen, for I am compassionate.

We hear so much about people trapped in various kinds of poverty, and indeed have legislation in place in response to the horrors of 'pay day loans'; we see countless people begging whose stories may or may not move us to action (and sometimes, as I have experienced, have abuse hurled at us by those we try to help).

The poor will always be with you, said Jesus, and they are.

There are many ethical, or at least more ethical, loan providers, such as Credit Unions.  There are trained advisers such as Christians Against Poverty.  There are organisations such as The Poverty Truth Comission enabling those living with or on poverty to find a voice.  There are secular and religious charities meeting needs at grass roots in the UK and overseas.

There is good news, if we have the eyes to see and ears to hear.

There is a long way to go to making this command a real lived reality, people are still pawning and selling things they actually need in order to pay bills or to service loans.  But to end on a positive, this is one area that seems to touch the hearts and the pockets of many people both in 'sticking plaster' responses such as Food Banks and Clothes Banks, and in longer term, more radical enterprises such as Cooperatives and Start Up Projects.

Over the last few weeks I've been watching with interest the emergence of a new project in Glasgow called StepUp Shoe Shine which brings together corporate social repsonsibility and people needing an opportunity to rebuild their lives.  Do take a look at the website and find out more... it feels like a creative response to a complex issue.

Contained in this pericope (to use posh langauge for 'chunk') is the familiar listing of the Decalgoue/Ten Commandments, familar material and more of the stuff I had to learn by rote for 'O' level RE back in the day. It's useful having a bit of context around it.

I'll not bore readers with stuff around stylistic hints at melded sources, which I haven't bothered to check and which, by now, everyone is aware are plentiful.  I'll just pick out a few themes and comment on them.

We are  now three new moons - or three months - into the adventure, and the people are now camping in Sinai.

Sanctity of the Earth

Early in chapter 19 we read these words attributed to God:

"the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation"

Nothing radically new here, we all know that the earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof, but it is striking that precisely at the moment Israel is emerging as, or discerning itself to be, something special, chosen to be lifted out of slavery and established in a plentiful land, this reminder is given.  The whole earth is God's, and therefore all creation is precious... in Genesis it was all declared 'good' now we begin to see that not only is it good, it is in some way holy, sanctified.

At the end of chapter 20, in a rarely read paragraph, God says this:

You shall not make gods of silver alongside me, nor shall you make for yourselves gods of gold. You need make for me only an altar of earth and sacrifice on it your burnt-offerings and your offerings of well-being, your sheep and your oxen; in every place where I cause my name to be remembered I will come to you and bless you. But if you make for me an altar of stone, do not build it of hewn stones; for if you use a chisel upon it you profane it. You shall not go up by steps to my altar, so that your nakedness may not be exposed on it.

Following straight after the decalogue, perhaps this is the weaving in of material from another tradition, since some of what it says has already been implied.  And yet it also offers something extra... well a few extra things actually.

The command to have no silver or gold gods alongside the LORD suggests very clearly that the people were polytheistic... you could worship this YHWH God but it didn't mean you couldn't have other gods too, at least until now.  This is subtly different, I think, from the prohibition of idols, which I have always been led to believe referred to images meant to represent YHWH.

Central to this command is the instructions about altars... sacrifices made by the people are to made on altars ideally of earth or otherwise of unhewn stone.  In other words, the altars are to be totally natural, part of the earth, which belongs to the LORD, and is good.  If altars are somehow sanctified, then by implication the earth or stone is inherently sacred.  This seems somehow to express a real rootedness in the natural order, and a respect for the earth that does not seek to plunder or exploit.  God doesn't need fancy altars with ornate decoration or carefully hewn stone, the earth IS the Lord's, and all of it is, in some measure, holy ground.

If we believe this to be so, then it has to affect our thinking about envirommental and ecological matters not in a simplistic way, but in one that recognises both God's sovereignty and the intrinisic sanctity of the earth.

Oh, and on a lighter note, is the prohibition of steps up to altars to avoid anyone discovering what is worn under the "kilt"  - as amusing as it is serious!!

The Priestly Nation

As Christians we are more used to hearing this idea in the words of the Apostle Paul than spoken directly from the mouth of God.  From very early on we are told that Israel is not given favoured-nation status in order to enjoy the privilege and bounty that offers, rather as a nation it is to be holy (set apart for God) and priestly (acting as a 'bridge' or go-between to God for others).

I think it is fair to say that neither Israel nor the Church have ever grasped this.  Partly because it is probably counter-intuitive, and partly because it is so incredibly difficult to begin to live out.

If Israel is to be a priestly nation than, based on how we understand priesthood, her role is to act on behalf of all nations, all peoples... which isn't how the story seems to unfold.  In the Temple cult, the priest made sacrifices on behalf of those who were ritually prohibited from doing so, they carried our rites of initiation, penitence, consecration and so forth.  Quite how this can be paralleled at a national level is not so clear.  But surely it must include some sense of praying for othe rnations, seeking their good and, yes, sharing the story of the God who is worshipped with them

As Baptists we talk about the Priesthood of All Believers, and rightly so, recognising our interconectedness and interdependence, at least at a congregational level.  But what if we saw ouselves also as some kind of Priestly Entity, called to serve the whole world?  I expect we think we do, I'm just not so sure it's quite so easy to live it out in a really meaningful way.

Details in the Decalogue

The list of commandments includes some that are stark statements, such as 'thou shalt not kill', and others that are are quite detailed, such as the prohibition of idols or of covetousness.  Why some have been amplified and others not is maybe worth some thought, but it's a couple of details that struck me today.

The NRSV which I have been using says "You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name". 

This is helpful, I think, and moves us beyond the simplistic understanding that renders phrases such as 'OMG' blasphemy.  I have to say I really dislike the use of such phrases and expressions, and find them at best disrespectful to the faith tradition I follow.  Years ago I trained a colleague out of saying "Oh my God" by pointing out he wouldn't like it if I said "Oh my His-name" as a lightweight expletive.

It is both helpful and challenging because it speaks to any context where something is enacted in the name of God, of Christ, of Allah, of any deity at all... it could be epxressed as 'do not go around claiming divine warrant for everything you do...' complete with the 'not being found blameless if you do so inappropriately' consequence.

The second thing that struck me, again not new, but more notably, was that the sabbath rest is for everyone... the Israelites were not to exploit slaves or foreigners or even livestock on the sabbath.  This idea of rest for all is one we have long since lost, and one that seems nigh on impossible to achieve... many depend on buses to get to church, we nip into coffee shops or cafes, we buy papers or petrol... To achieve one perfect Sabbath, which according to some Jewish tradition will bring in the  Messianic Era, seems an impossible dream... but the intent of this command, to ensure that our leisure is not enjoyed by denying that of others, including animals, is worth pondering some more.

OK, so I like consistency and order, so today had to be either one chapter or three to get me back into my 'even number' contendedness!  (yes, I'm weird, I know).

This largish chunk of text seems to fall fairly neatly into three very different parts, written in different styles and with plenty to challenge sceptic and literalist alike.  Oh, and there is an excellent example of how words can change their meanings over time too.

Captain's Log Stardate Plinky Plonk... and Linguistic Changes

I'm not a trekkie, but growing up in the 1970s Star Trek was hugely popular family entertainment, each episode beginning (as I recall anyway) 'Captain's log star date...'

Parts of the Exodus narrative read very much in that style, suggesting that, albeit originally in an oral rather than written tradition, there was an equivalent phrase.  So this section opens by telling us that on the 15th day of the second month after leaving Egypt the people left Elim.  Whether this is six weeks from the Passover or six weeks from crossing the Red Sea, or even if it was literally six weeks isn't so significant.  What is significant is that so early in the and having already twice being recorded as complainign about how much better life was in Egypt, they are at it again.

Back in Egypt, they say, we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread.  To a twenty-first century reader, unfamiliar with the passage, this should create a shocked reaction - 'fleshpot' nowadays refers to places in which hedonism and sexual licentiousness abound.  Could it be that the Hebrews sat on the edge of such areas?  No.  A 'fleshpot' was, as it's name suggests, a pot in which meat was cooked.  It's easy enough to see how, over time, the word has changed its meaning - from inferring plenty and ease back in Egypt to luxury and thence hedomism and beyond.  A salutory reminder that the meaning of words are (generally) not fixed but evolve and change over time.

Life in Egypt was good, very good it now seems - clean water, plenty to eat and a settled lifestyle... This wilderness wandering is unsettling and demanding... they don't like it and they want Moses to fix it.

Only a few verses on, and now at Rephidim, short of water the people moan again... poor Moses!

Manna and Quails... Human Nature

Debates over the nature of the manna and its provision, of why it rotted if kept overnight any day except what we'd call Friday, and why the sample kept as a reminder seemingly survived intact only to disappear from any later 'history' are not helpful.  What we have in this highly detailed account is an intriguing insight into human behaviour.

The quails arrive in the evening, and the manna in the morning.  The people are sent to gather as much as they need (an omer apiece, which may be around 2kg/4lb) and no more.  Overnight it perishes, there is no point keeping some back 'just in case.'  But people do.  Because that's human nature, the desire to keep something in reserve, 'just in case', the unspoken, unrecognised fear that tomorrow there may not be any bread.  In the New Testament is the parable of the man who built 'bigger barns' to store his grain, and then he died... Tomorrow is never guaranteed, sufficent unto the day and all that... but I still have a pension fund, and I still save what money I can 'just in case.'  Living totally by faith is really hard - and even having done it for four years when I was a student, I've still slipped back into a self-reliance that keeps some back 'just in case.'

On Day 6 (Friday in our parlance) they are to collect double and this won't perish overnight, but on Day 7 (Sabbath, Saturday) there will be no provision: the provider rests and so should they.  That's quite a big ask of people who have already seen manna rot and stink overnight.  And even though there is nothing to suggest they failed to gather the required quantity, and presumably even though they lifted the lid of the jar and found it still intact, some of the people still went out to gather.  This is readily seen as disobedience to Moses and to God, but is it, again, human nature?  Even if we have enough do we still want more?  Do we want to risk the possibility that failing to gather today will leave us lacking tomorrow?

Slipped into this section, and expressed in Divine ire, is the fact that the people were not to travel on the seventh day.  The temptation to keep on going, to think that a day waiting is a day wasted, is very real.  But right at the start the people begin to establish a rhythm and routine of rest.  No 'shopping', no 'cooking', no 'travelling'... a day to rest and be refreshed.  I know that I, of all people, constantly need to be reminded of that, and not to slip into making my one 'rest day' a week the day when I catch up on the chores I haven't done because I've been too busy doing other stuff.

Teamwork

In two very different episodes, we reminded both of Moses' humanity and of the need for different kinds of teamwork.

The battle against Amalek is probably one of the least bloody descriptions we will encounter, but what is striking, and is a story I have always loved, is how Moses, along with Aaaron and Hur, go up a hill where they can be seen.  Moses, an old man by all accounts, holds up his arms and the people are inspired... but as his arms tire and sag, so they lose heart.  On his own, he cannot inspire the people; on his own he will tire and be unable to stand.  So what happens?  First Aaron and Hur find him a seat - he doesn't need to be standing up - and then they each take one of his arms and support them when he grows tired.  It's a beautiful, albeit bizarre, image... human finitude and frailty being recongnised and others coming alongside to support and encourage without either undermining or over-ruling.

The visit of Jethro along with Moses' wife and sons (who had at some point been sent away) is also beautiful and challenging.  Jethro watches Moses at work, and sees how exhausting and impossible is the task he has undertaken.  Everyone comes to Moses, and Moses tries to deal with everything himself.  No-one, it seems, within the Hebrew people sees fit to question this, but Jethro does.  You can't do it all yourself, he says, what you need is to identify suitable people (men in the text, but Biblical record suggests that there were some women, at least later on) who are able, God-fearing and trustworthy, and give them authority over defined groups of people.  Moses remains the leader and now he is able to focus his energies on the things only he can do because he isn't worn out with the things others can do.

I often tell people I'm not like Moses, and I'm not, but the  temptation to try to do everything myself is very real.  Partly because of my personality.  Partly because, at least as I perceive it, the person/people who raise something expect me to do it.  And its crackers.  Not least because I really do believe in teamwork and like to think I'm a half decent team-player.  I have recently been reminding myself that my old boss used to say "don't bring me probelsm, bring me solutions"... I need to learn to response not by taking on more work, but by inviting others to bring to fruition that which they desire, and in so doing to discover and/or develop their own gifts and skills.

I'm not sure this is about delegation - though I may need to recover my ability to do that - it's more about prioritising within my role, and identifying people who are gifted to pick up other roles... which is challenging, because people seem to fall into two categories, those who are brilliant at saying 'no' and those (like me) who find it nigh on impossible.

Real People

I wanted to undertake this read through of Exodus (and then Numbers) because it is a story of real people, with real faults and failings, real hopes and dreams, real frustrations and fears.  As I move further into the story, with this aim in mind, I am reminded of how very real these people are... Moses, the flawed and fallible leader, and the Hebrews, a motley crew of former slaves learning to fend for themselves and become a nation in their own right.

I'm carefully avoiding drawing simplictic parallels, but whatever sphere of life we may wish to consider, the same is surely true... every leader is fallible and flawed; every church, every city, every nation, comprises people working out what life is meant to look like, quick to grumble and, if the Hebrews are anything to go by, slow to learn. 

All of which is, perversely, quite reassuring for this flawed, frail and finite Baptist minister!