Moses and Multiculturalism. Barbara Johnson

reserve—that makes him ill equipped to perform his task. But what if Moses’ “uncircumcised lips” have simply not been sanctified by a lifetime of faithful service to the God of Abraham? What if he has strayed far away from the God of his fathers, as his brother Aaron has not? Moses is quick to collaborate with God in making Aaron chief priest and making the priesthood belong to Aaron’s family. Of course, it’s Moses’ family, too, so Moses’ designation of the Levites as priests may have other motives.

      But, in any case, it makes sense if the task of leading people much more knowledgeable about things Jewish should give Moses pause. And indeed the people’s quickness to doubt him is attested in many subsequent episodes. The Egyptians, as well as the Hebrews, circumcised their male children, and so, somewhere along the way, Moses was no doubt circumcised. But as the sign of participation in God’s covenant, Moses was clearly right to see others as more qualified. On the other hand, who was more equipped to speak to Pharaoh? This adds to the ambiguity of the expression “Let my people go” and brings us back to the question of political representation. God’s spokesman, with some justice, has major doubts about his ability to perform the role.

      The second half of the Book of Exodus and most of Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy as well are transcriptions of God’s words to Moses or Moses’ to the people, detailing the laws and ordinances by which the children of Israel are expected to live. The episode of the Golden Calf leads to a detailed description of how to make the Lord’s Tabernacle. Many of God’s instructions concern the proper procedures for sacrifices, the proper behavior and dress for the priests, and the proper form for worship. It will be recalled that the first request Moses and Aaron make to Pharaoh is to let the Israelites go three days into the desert and sacrifice to their Lord. Whether or not this is a covert request for freedom, it indicates that it is considered perfectly natural to renew the covenant with, and propitiate, one’s newly restored god.

      As for the detailed instructions for building a movable tabernacle, they must be meant to contrast with that most loathed form of worship, idolatry. The same golden earrings that, melted, go into the making of the form of a calf can be pounded thin to cover the parts of the Tabernacle. The making of a place for a god is quite different from making the form of a god. And the Tabernacle had to be mobile because the people were mobile. Their god was not visualizable—indeed, not visible—but nevertheless could be a presence among them as they wandered. The land he promised to them was not uninhabited, but he would ensure their victory. He said to his people, not “I am the only god,” but “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” In other words, this invisible god who claimed the loyalty of the people wanted an exclusive relation with them, and was different from other gods. He had no form—could not be the basis for an image—and, like the serpent into which Aaron’s rod was changed, he ate up all others. This god’s monotheism was in fact a victory over polytheism, idolatry, and, later, the Canaanites. Worshiping a golden calf was a double abomination: going back to idolatry and having another god before him. As Moses repeatedly tells the doubting people, “Your murmurings are not against us, but against the Lord” (Exod. 16:8).

      With all this emphasis on what made this god different from others, it is not surprising that he would give extensive instructions about how to build the Tabernacle and how to worship. He also supplements the Ten Commandments with many rules dictated to Moses.

      The function of writing is also new, and unclear. Moses takes dictation from God about the laws of his covenant, and Moses is called the author (or scribe) of the first five books of the Bible. There was a huge difference between Egyptian writing (hieroglyphics—pictorial—thus, idolatrous) and God’s writing (Hebrew—nonpictorial). Moses thus inaugurated the sacred script in which the Bible is written. The prohibition on graven images is a prohibition on images: twice in his instructions about the Tabernacle God refers to engraving—but always of words, not of images. The priest is to wear on his shoulders the names of the tribes of Israel “like the engravings of a signet” and fashion a plate of pure gold that says, “HOLINESS TO THE LORD” (Exod. 28:11, 36). God appears in a cloud and a fire—signs of divinity but not at all images. God’s finger writes—and Moses rewrites—the two tables containing the Ten Commandments, which Moses, in his anger at the people’s “corruption,” broke. Two “Tables of Testimony” are supposed to be put in the ark of the Tabernacle, but whether this means, as it seems to in Exodus, the stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments or the Torah that Moses is in the process of writing down, as seems to be the holy object today, is not clear. In either case, what is sacred is writing.

      If the large majority of space in the Five Books of Moses is non-narrative, then, it should not surprise us that so much attention is given to God’s instructions. Even where there are narrative moments, they tend to be enigmatic:

      And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Ethiopian woman whom he had married; for he had married an Ethiopian woman. (Num. 12:1)