EXOc
Mount Sinai (Exod 19–40)
The Sinai Peninsula, as seen from space.
The Sinai narratives weave together three strands that highlight the covenant, the people's direct encounter with Yahweh, and his glory which summons Moses to receive the tabernacle plans.
Narratives (Exod 19; 24; 32–34). We will focus first upon the narrative material in chapters 19 and 24, before exploring the law code embedded in chapters 20–23, and then chapters 32–34, before exploring the instructions for the tabernacle’s construction.
Upon their arrival at “the mountain,” Moses ascends to God, who gives him this message: Yahweh has brought them out of Egypt to himself, in order to establish a “covenant”: “if indeed you listen to my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be to me a prized possession among all the peoples, for all the earth is mine. And you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod 19:4–6). The people respond, “all that Yahweh spoke and we will do.” But after God appears in “a thick cloud” with “thunder and lightning”—in other words, in a theophanic appearance of the God of the skies—the people “trembled,” “quivered and stood afar off” (Exod 19:16–17; 20:18). This time they shrink back from any further direct encounter with God and implore Moses to be their mediator: “you speak with us and we will listen, but God should not speak with us lest we die” (Exod 20:19).
Moses clarifies for them the meaning of the dramatic theophany: “don’t fear because God has come so that he may test you and that his fear may be before you so you not sin” (Exod 20:20). This paradoxical verse is very telling on the precise nuance of “fearing God” in the Old Testament. The phrase indeed denotes fear in the sense of deep respect, reverence and even trepidation, but does not denote fear in the sense that would result in flight from God.
Exodus 24 becomes problematic if we attempt to read it as a simple, coherent sequence. Yahweh commands Moses and company to “come up” the mountain (Exod 24:1), but instead he comes to the people to read “the Book of the Covenant” (Exod 24:3, 7). Afterwards, Moses and company finally go up as originally instructed (Exod 24:9). But strangely Yahweh commands Moses a second time to come up the mountain (Exod 24:12), which he then does (Exod 24:13, 15). A third time Yahweh calls to Moses—but only after an interval of six days while Yahweh’s cloud/glory covers the mountain (Exod 24:16)—after which Moses went up the mountain (Exod 24:18). As we have seen before, these three episodes of Yahweh’s command and Moses’ ascent are likely clues that this chapter consists of three accounts that were originally separate and independent.
Source Yahweh summons Moses goes up Sinai
J (Exod 24:1-2, 9-11) Exod 24:1 Exod 24:9
E (Exod 24:3-8, 12-15a) Exod 24:12 Exod 24:13, 15
P (Exod 24:15b-18a) Exod 24:16 Exod 24:18
Once we recognize this chapter as an edited composite, it begins to make perfect sense as a stitched panorama.
In one account (Exod 24:3–8, 12–15a, likely E), at the base of the mountain Moses announces, writes, and reads the “Book of the Covenant,” to which the people agree. The covenant is “cut” in a sacrificial ritual where half of the blood is sprinkled against the altar and the other half on the people. Moses then ascends the mountain to receive the stone tablets, which Yahweh himself has written (cf. Exod 31:18; 32:15–16).
In a second account (Exod 24:1–2, 9–11, likely J), Moses, Aaron, his two sons, and seventy of Israel’s elders ascend part way up the mountain, where “they beheld God, and ate and drank.” What is described of God, however, is simply the semitransparent platform under his feet.
In a third account (Exod 24:15b–18a, likely P), God manifests his presence visibly in the cloud of his glory (mentioned exclusively in Priestly texts, Exod 16:7, 10; 40:34–35; Num 17:7) with special attention to the seventh day (i.e., Sabbath). In this story line Moses ascends the mountain to receive, not a law code or covenant, but instructions for constructing the tabernacle, the ark, and the priestly vestments, as found in chapters 25–31.
Each narrative strand makes its own thematic contribution to the surprise that is gifted to the Israelites.
Yahweh has uniquely cut a covenant with them—complete with full documentation, including a book and two stone tablets written by God (E).
Yahweh invites Israel’s representatives to have the privilege of a direct encounter and communal meal with the God of Israel (J).
Yahweh’s manifest glory will continue, well beyond this Sinai moment, to attend them in a portable tabernacle (P, cf. Exod 29:43; Lev 9:6, 23; Num 14:10; 16:19; 20:6).
The final redaction of the three combined narratives presents a fuller, complementary panorama of the sacraments that Israel uniquely enjoys.
The "golden calf" incident exemplifies how Yahweh engages with people.
Exodus 32–34. Old Testament narrative should be read as “torah,” that is, “instruction.” It is not mere history; we are invited to look through these narrative windows to see how Yahweh deals with his people, and so learn what we may expect from him and how we should respond in similar situations.
The problem is that most of us reading the Golden calf story in Exodus 32 regard the Israelites as quite silly, to say the least. They have participated in a whole series of “signs and wonders”—the ten plagues in Egypt, the drowning of the Egyptian army in the Red Sea, and the awesome divine display on Mt. Sinai. Yet after a mere forty-day absence of their leader, Moses, “they made for themselves a molten calf and bowed down to it and offered sacrifices to it” (Exod 32:8). Where did this bizarre idea come from? Most of us feel, “I would have had the common sense to remain true to Yahweh,” and so we identify with Moses and Joshua (certainly not Aaron!). But in so doing, we actually miss important instruction that God has for us. Embedded in our reading are misleading assumptions and a failure to look more closely at context.
First, we need to engage in a close reading of the text itself. At the outset, a key issue is that of leadership, namely “who has led us and who will lead us?” While the overall portrayal within the book of Exodus is clear that Yahweh, by the hand of his agent Moses, is their leader, the perspectives of the various characters within this narrative differ. The Israelites believe it is “Moses, the man who brought us up from the land of Egypt,” and so because of his prolonged absence they demand Aaron to “make for us gods who will go before us” (Exod 32:1, 23, cf. 4, 8). Within the lively dialogue between Yahweh and Moses, Yahweh—for the sake of argument—rhetorically agrees that it was Moses who brought them up from Egypt (Exod 32:7), while Moses retorts that it was Yahweh (Exod 32:11–12).
4-inch Silver Calf
(ca. 1550, MB, Ashkelon)
Second, we need to explore the cultural and traditional contexts of the passage. Simply put, the Israelites sought to use a symbol that was popular in the ancient Near Eastern cultures and even shared some endorsement within Israelite faith.
The "young bull" functioned either as an idol symbolizing El/God or a pedestal on which God stood invisibly.
The Hebrew word translated “calf” (עֵגֶל) is more accurately translated “young bull/ox” (HALOT, p. 784). In Egypt, the Mnevis bull of Heliopolis was a manifestation of the god Re and the Apis bull of Memphis a manifestation of the god Ptah. Within the West Semitic culture along the Mediterranean, the deity El is frequently named “Bull El,” as seen in the Ugaritic texts. In the Old Testament itself, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob/Israel shared this name “El,” though not self-evident to most English readers because the Hebrew word is rendered generically as “God” in most translations.
Notable examples are the naming of the patriarch, and later the people, as “Isra-El” (Gen 32:28, 30) and Jacob’s altar dedicated to “El (is) the God of Israel” (Gen 33:20), along with the titles “El Most High” (Gen 14:18–22) and “El Almighty” (Gen 17:1; 28:3, etc.). In the ancient poem, the “Blessing of Jacob,” beside the titles “El of your father” and “Almighty” is that of “the Bull of Jacob” (Gen 49:24–25). This may sound strange because most English translations render this title as “Mighty One of Jacob.” But “bull” (Isa 34:7; Pss 22:12; 50:13; 68:30) or “stallion” (Judg 5:22, etc.) appear to be the basic, original senses of this Semitic word (אָבִיר, Ugaritic ibr, see HALOT, p. 6), while “mighty” appears to be its later derived, figurative sense.
In the prophetic oracles of Balaam, “El who brings them forth from Egypt” is likened to a “wild ox/bull” (Num 23:22; 24:8, רְאֵם, which is used in parallel to עֵגֶל in Ps 29:6). While not an authoritative biblical text, Samaria ostracon 41 (a tax receipt written on a potsherd) records the name Egel-Yav (עגליו), “a bull calf of/is Yahweh.”
Storm god Arslan Tash (Syria)
A second observation from this symbol’s cultural and traditional context is that, while in some cases the young bull may be symbolic of a deity, in others the bull was simply the pedestal on which the deity, usually the weather/storm god, stood (see, e.g., ANEP, figures 500, 501, 531, 534, 537). An example close to Israel was found in Canaanite Hazor (decapitated perhaps by the invading Israelites!). In this light, one thinks of a comparable symbol of God’s presence within orthodox Yahwism, namely the cherubim, on whom Yahweh sits invisibly enthroned (e.g., 1 Sam 4:4; 2 Sam 6:2; Pss 80:1; 99:1). Cherubim are hybrid creatures, typically in the ancient Near East consisting of a human head, eagle wings, lion forelegs, and bull hind legs.
They symbolize respectively wisdom, mobility, strength, and fertility. Ezekiel’s vision (Ezek 1:4–28, further interpreted in Ezek 10:1–22) confirms this symbolism was current within Israel. The “living creatures” (Ezek 1:5) or “cherubim” (Ezek 10:1) are a composite of human, lion, eagle (with wings), and ox/bull (with the hoof of a calf, עֵגֶל).
Procession of gods appearing before Assyrian king (Maltaya)
When the northern tribes of Israel secede from the Davidic monarchy in Judah and Jerusalem, Jeroboam sets up alternative sanctuaries in Bethel and Dan. In language that clearly echoes Exodus 32:4, 8, he “made two calves of gold,” likely to compete with the cherubim throne in the Jerusalem temple (see 1 Kings 12:26–29).
Our contextual explorations have shown that (a) this young bull symbol, contrary to Aaron’s extravagant excuse (“I cast it into the fire and out came this young bull,” Exod 32:24), has some history and validity within Israel’s ancient traditions and that (b) it may have simply represented the pedestal on which Yahweh stood invisibly. If so, what makes the cherubim-throne symbol legitimate and the young bull pedestal in Exodus 32 deserving of such harsh judgment?
Answering the questions, “what constitutes an ‘idol’” and “what is wrong with idolatry?,” would be an article in itself. Here are a few points to consider.
What is wrong with an idol?
First, much depends on the perception of the worshipers. There is a huge step when one moves from imaginative metaphor to tangible symbol. While a visual representation can be powerful and speak a thousand words, its interpretation can be ambiguous. It increases the likelihood of closer identification between deity and object. One may construe that the deity is now obliged to, indeed to some extent even dependent on, the humans who manufactured it. The object may be regarded as a localized medium channeling the deity’s presence, though the same may be said of the legitimate symbols the cherubim-ark and the temple. An image may also foster the rites of divination and incantation which seek to manipulate the deity, as evident in Mesopotamia. What religious officials may intend and what popular opinion perceives may be widely different.
The Exodus 32 narrative seems to indicate that while Aaron proclaims the bull calf as emblematic of Yahweh (a violation of the Second Commandment, Exod 20:4), the people perceive it as emblematic of “gods” (a violation of the First Commandment, Exod 20:3). Second, the Bible shows a decided preference for human comparisons with God (e.g., king, judge, shepherd, father, husband, savior, redeemer, warrior) over animal comparisons (e.g., the explicit similes in Deut 32:11–12 and Hos 11:10; 13:7–8). Moreover, cherubim, while sharing in bull imagery, are clearly hybrid creatures and cannot be confused with anything of this world, thus pointing to otherworldly realities. Third, the symbols associated with Yahweh in the Bible are never of Yahweh himself, but are associated with his intangible presence: most notably, the cherubim symbolizing God’s throne and the temple symbolizing his house. Even here, the nature of God’s presence at the temple is variously qualified as his face, his name (in Deuteronomistic texts), and his glory (in priestly texts). According to Jeremiah, the ark is ultimately regarded as dispensable (Jer 3:16–17), as is the temple, with the phrase “this is the temple of the Lord” regarded as “deceptive words” (Jer 7:4, 12–14)!
There are other cases in the Bible where symbols once considered legitimate, such as a “standing stone” (Gen 28:18–22; 35:14) and a “bronze serpent” (Num 21:8–9), can become illegitimate, likely because of pagan associations (Exod 23:24; Deut 16:22; Mic 5:13; and 2 Kgs 18:4).
The bottom line: whatever metaphors or symbols people use for God, they must be held lightly. While God accommodates himself to human understanding and discloses himself through metaphors and symbols, the freedom of God cannot be compromised. One generation’s symbol can become the next generation’s idol. Spiritual discernment is ever essential.
Info Box: The Golden Calf Incident and Ourselves
The issue of Exodus 32 is one of leadership: who leads us? Is it Yahweh, Moses, or a symbol of divine presence? Ultimately it is Yahweh, yes, but even by his own admission Moses is his tangible agent. In his absence, the people invoke a symbol to lead them. This discussion is in no way intended to excuse the Israelites, but it is meant to help us see that they, while they may be silly, are not so far from ourselves. Are we, like the Israelites, so fixed on our human leaders, such as a pastor or theologian, that they eclipse the God they serve? When we feel our God or beloved spiritual leader is absent, on what symbols does our God stand? Is there some symbol—whether it be a church, creed, sacrament, theology, ideology, or flag—that we clutch so tightly that it obscures our view of the living God who will never be boxed in? So the next time we think the Israelites (or the disciples in the Gospels) are a bit silly, we need to look more closely at them—and at ourselves—and we may discover our story in their story and so receive God’s torah/instruction.