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What do you mean God speaks?
A series that reconstrues and retells key ideas, insights, and stories in Christianity for the skeptics who want to understand religion, Christians with questions about their own beliefs, and everyone in between. I am Paul Seungoh Chung, the author of God at the Crossroads of Worldviews, a university lecturer, and a pastor. I invite you to explore with me the world shared by 2.4 billion people--one that inspired our ideals, imaginations, and intellect, for better or for worse. (Note: I recommend listening to the episodes in order--from the first to the latest.)
What do you mean God speaks?
S4E9: The Sea that God parts in Exodus is no mere "water"
We’ve now returned to start the second half of Season Four. We closed the first half at a key point, exploring the meaning of the blood of the Lamb in the final plague of Exodus, and we'll now begin with the parting of the Sea. Both, it turns out, are closely connected with the ideas weaved through the accounts of Creation and the Flood in Genesis, which in turn points to that of the salvation in Christ. And the key to understanding that is found in what the Sea and its waters meant for the ancients. We’ll first review the past Season(s) and explore the narratives of the aftermath of the final plague to the parting of the Sea.
0:00 Outer Space and the Deep Sea
3:16 Review of where we are: Idea of God speaking
10:32 Review of where we are: the Final Plague
15:59 The meaning of Egypt’s parting gifts to Israel
22:58 What God was speaking to different people
30:18 The Sea as the infinite realm of possibilities
36:55 The parting of the Sea in Exodus
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Outside our known world, beyond its most distant horizons, is an… endless expanse.
Now, before you reply: “yes, we know; it’s called ‘space’,” I mean something more than that. For us today, this expanse is the outer space, filled with stars, planets, galaxies, and so on. But this “Space” is just the latest re-iteration of a much older idea.
And we can catch a glimpse of what this idea is by examining how “space” is portrayed in our imagination. In the opening words of Star Trek, a science-fiction franchise that has become popular world-wide, “Space” is “the final frontier,” to which we must “boldly go, where no one has gone before”; there, we’ll discover " new worlds,” “new life and new civilizations.” We’ll find treasures in Space, whether in the form of new knowledge or resources; terrifying dangers await us in its uncharted depths—proverbial dragons.
These are nautical imageries—that is, images of the Sea. We imagine outer space to be like an infinite sea of some sort. We even call vehicles that traverse in space, “ships” —spaceships or starships, helmed by “captains”. And when the books of the Hebrew Bible, the Christian Old Testament, were first written, people believed that beyond their world was an expanse of—not space—but water. They believed that the Sea expanded endlessly not only beyond their coasts, but above the skies and below the earth—that it was infinite. So, their entire world was a kind of life-sustaining bubble that was formed inside the Sea, and unimaginable monsters still lurked in its fathomless depths. That is, they imagined the Sea to be rather like how we today imagine outer Space.
And it was to the Sea that God led Moses and the Israelites when they were freed from their slavery. The tenth and the final plague that killed every firstborn in Egypt passed over them because of the blood of a lamb, and Pharaoh finally let them go to where God called them. And God first called them to the edge of the Sea, the edge of the untamable and unknowable, infinite expanse. And it is that Sea that God parted to let them escape from their Egyptian pursuers.
But, what does that all mean? To both the Israelites and to us today? Why does God call us to the Sea? Let’s explore in this episode of….
[ music / ] … "What do you mean, God speaks?" where we explore important ideas, insights, and stories in Christianity, for the skeptics who want to understand religion, Christians who have questions about their own beliefs, and everyone in between. I am Paul Seungoh Chung, and this is our ninth episode of the fourth season, “What it means for God to part the Sea.”
[ / music ]
All of reality is God speaking. Now, this does not mean that everything is some sort of personal message to us from God, any more than everything we say is some sort of life lesson to our children. But it means that there is something speech-like to, well, reality as a whole; it is principles and laws that structure the universe and set its parameters; and its entire history unfolds in a way we can only describe in the form of a story. So, reality is like something that is being spoken. Or to put it differently, just as we speak words, reality is God speaking. Yet, just as we can and do speak to other people with our words, God can also speak personally to us with what reality unfolds—with the things that happen around us. And the way we come to learn what God really is speaking to us, through such things, is one of the key themes of the Bible. (Series)
But, here’s something else. In our speech, we often say things we know will mean different things to different people. A few episodes back, we briefly considered how President Abraham Lincoln’s Proclamation of Emancipation meant very different things to the enslaved Africans, than to the slaveowners. And likewise, God often speaks forth a series of events, which personally speak different things to different people. This is how it was when God unfolds the events described in the Exodus account.
To the Israelites, the landless foreigners and vagabonds, enslaved by the Egyptian empire, these events were a message of Divine favor and liberation. They had heard of how a mysterious “god”, who seemed to be the Creator of the world, spoke with their ancestors and promised them a homeland of their own. And now, this God had struck Egypt with terrifying plagues for refusing to free them from slavery. And the powers that had protected this ancient and powerful civilization—its gods—seemed to be powerless to stop these plagues. This mighty God that their ancestors called El-Shaddai, was on their side. That was what God was speaking to them. And that is how most readers would read the Exodus story. But, the thing is, God was speaking to others too.
The plagues would’ve spoken something different to the Egyptians. For their millennia- old tradition and culture had a particular way of understanding what was happening. They believed that their world was held together by the principle of order, justice, and truth, which they called the Ma’at; it was by this principle that their gods established the cosmic order and protected their world; and Egypt would endure as long as its people also uphold this Ma’at. And the tainted River Nile, the spread of disease, thunder and hail, swarms of locusts, and especially the darkness that blotted out the sun, would’ve been clear signs that something had undermined this sacred principle. And it would’ve seemed to them that refusing to free these foreign, vagabond Hebrew slaves to follow the call of their God was precisely what undermined it. Now, did this cause their gods to weaken, so that a foreign “god” that their slaves called “Yahweh” could strike their nation? Or is that this “Yahweh” spoke forth the Ma’at, so that ignoring Him was the same as violating this principle? They’d not know, though the Bible implies the latter. Either way, they were in the wrong, and the plagues were the consequences.
Specifically, their ruler, Pharaoh, was in the wrong. For God was speaking to him too. At first, the plagues were only warnings about the kind of disaster that his nation was hurtling toward. And God had invited the Pharaoh to set his own terms on what needed to specifically happen, for him to acknowledge and heed these warnings that God was speaking. And Pharaoh in turn had given his own word to Moses that he’d do so if certain things happened; if a plague stopped at a specific time, for example. And then, reality unfolded exactly what he asked for. But Pharaoh then broke his own words. And he did this again and again, ignoring the reports and advice of even his own counselors. This repeated breaking of his own words, and the likely lies he told himself to justify them, did something to him; he became “hardwired” to do the same thing afterwards— hardening his heart against what God was speaking and unfolding; this became an automatic response for him, beyond his conscious control. And the Exodus account describes this process in the following. At the start, Pharaoh’s heart was hard, then later, he actively hardened his heart, and then after that, God starts hardening his heart. Because that’s how our mind works, and that how is God “speaking”; at some point, our repeated lies become part of our inescapable inner reality, and God is Reality.
God also of course spoke to Moses. And to him, what unfolded around him were step-by-step confirmation that the voice that spoke to him from the burning bush, that unquenchable fire that spoke to his very heart, was indeed God speaking. And God was indeed with him in this journey, just as He promised. So, even though Moses was initially too afraid to go and voiced his doubts many times, he still stepped forward when he needed to. He began that journey to Egypt, and on the way met his brother, Aaron, just as that voice said. And though the Pharaoh dismissively refused his call to free his people, he still confronted him again to declare that a disaster would fall upon Egypt. And God unfolded those disasters just as He spoke. And with each plague, Moses and those who were with him became more courageous and trusting.
This is a pattern we’ve explored throughout the third and our current fourth season of this series. The protagonists of the life-stories in the Bible, from Abraham to Jacob to Moses, start small; they hear what they come to believe is God speaking to them, but they fear and doubt. But they still take that step; Abram left his homeland toward the land of Canaan—though that was where his father had originally planned to go anyway; Moses left for Egypt, though only after hearing that those who wanted to kill him in Egypt had died, and even then, he told others that he was just going to go see his relatives. But, unlike the Pharaoh, they continue to listen when God responds, rather than going back on their word. And as they continued to take those steps, they witness more and more things, and what God speaks to them becomes more and more real.
[Short Pendulum]
However, some of the things that God speaks forth and unfold in our lives go beyond some personal message. These are the things that unfold because they are long overdue; they happen because they’ve become inevitable. For example, it’s like how our oceans start dying, after we’ve been flushing our pollution into it for centuries; or how wars will erupt after injustices and hatred and grievances are left to fester for too long. These are the kind of catastrophes that reality will unfold from the world we make for ourselves. And God is Reality. And this seems to be what the final tenth plague was. Now, this seems very counter to how we’d usually read the Exodus account, and it is one of the most startling point we explored in the first half of this fourth season—that a plague that kills every firstborn of an entire nation was actually something like an inevitable catastrophe, and that the previous nine plagues were something like warnings that pointed to how it can be prevented.
But, there is a “universality” to this final Exodus plague; it strike not only the Egyptians, like the prior plagues, but everyone, including the Israelites, and even the animals that live with them. This “universality” is a signature trait of the kind of judgment from God, which is less about specific punishment and more about the cosmic consequences of humanity’s distorted and fatal relation to God. The one that begins from humanity’s fall in Genesis. And the Christian Gospels quite clearly connects the final Exodus plague with this Fall of humanity in Genesis. Because the blood of the lamb that marked the houses, which were spared from this plague, is symbolically identified with the blood of Jesus Christ, whose sacrifice saves all of humanity and restores our distorted relation to God. Then there’s the Eucharist, a central Christian rite, in which Christians partake a meal of bread and wine to commemorate this salvation through Christ. But, this Eucharist is in turn a re-enactment of a seder meal that Christ and his disciples shared to commemorate how the final plague passed over the houses marked with the lamb’s blood.
And there is one other catastrophe in the Bible that the Christian New Testament also connects with their message of salvation in Christ—the Great Flood of Genesis. And the tenth plague is strangely like that Flood in its universality. The Flood, of course, is even more universal; it unravels the whole human world, and destroys every creature on land—the plague upon Egypt in that sense is a miniaturized version of that, killing only the animals that live with humans. And both the Exodus plague and the Flood strike not only the so-called wicked, but even the righteous, and there’s some specific thing, which will save anyone who shelter in it; Noah’s Ark for the Flood, the houses marked with blood for the plague. And again, both are explicitly connected in the New Testament to the salvation of all human beings by Jesus Christ.[1]
Then, there’s this narrative thread that was left hanging at the end of the Genesis Flood account. God promises Noah that humanity will never again be judged by such Flood; yet, nothing about humanity, which brought about that judgment, had changed. Our murderous impulses and deceitful hearts are still here, ready to unravel our world. God then speaks to Noah’s descendants to institute a set of laws—the criminal laws that will punish the worst of such offenses. But it’s implied that this would only slow the coming judgment; it won’t stop it. And it is then that the Genesis account opens the story of Abraham, with God promising him that all of humanity will be blessed by his family. This narrative flow suggests that God’s purpose for Abraham’s descendants to be a blessing for all people, is at least in some way connected with saving humanity from the kind of judgment that resembles the Flood. This explains why it is a Flood-like, indiscriminate catastrophe, which falls upon the firstborn of Egypt—their future. Because by keeping the descendants of Abraham enslaved, they were thwarting God’s purpose of saving them all, and in doing so, were snuffing out their own future.
But, there’s one more connection that the Christian Bible makes between this Exodus account and the Genesis Flood. There’s this rite called “baptism” in Christianity; those who profess their faith in Christ are plunged into water—or doused with it—to symbolize their salvation from God’s judgment. And according to Christianity, there are two events in the Old Testament that this central rite points to. The first is the Genesis Flood—how God saved Noah’s family from the waters of the Flood, by having them build the Ark. The second is how in the Exodus account, Israel walked through the waters of the Sea that parted for them, in their journey to leave Egypt after they were freed.
[Pendulum ]
This is how it all unfolds. The tenth plague was truly devastating. Every family, whose houses were not marked with the lamb’s blood, lost their firstborn, both young and old, humans and animals. Even the house of Pharaoh was not exempt; the royal heir, his son, also died overnight. And Pharaoh’s now hard-wired, closed and hardened heart, did not so much as finally open up, as much as shatter into pieces by the impact. He called for Moses and declared that Israel was now free to depart from Egypt to go and follow the call of their God, “Yahweh”—just as they had first requested.
The Exodus account then reports that Egyptians urged the enslaved Hebrews to leave as quickly as they can. They were terrified of what would unfold next; “We will all die, if you don’t hurry,” was what they said. But there’s something odd in how this account describes their reaction—and it’s easy to miss when we’re hurrying through the text. I mean, imagine a story where a series of horrific disasters strike a nation, and a single people group, foreign and marginalized, are singled out as the cause. We’d expect the nation to then blame these foreigners and persecute them, or be terrified by them—and probably both. There’d be stone-throwing and angry mobs with torches, or conversely, people cowering inside their homes, refusing to even look outside. Instead, we have them engaging their former slaves and urging them to set out as quickly as possible.
Then something even more odd happens. The Israelites ask the Egyptians for, shall we say, donations, to help them on their way. And the Egyptians start handing them gold and silver, precious stones, and textiles, so that the Israelites, according to Exodus, “plundered Egypt.” Seems obvious so far. The previously enslaved Hebrews threaten their terrified former masters, who are so scared that they hand them whatever they want. But that’s not how the account describes it; it says specifically that the Egyptians now regarded their former slaves with favor—as in affection, respect, and good will—and the original Hebrew word is clear on that; the same word is used to describe God’s favor. So, it seems these donations were actually freely given gifts. Now, we can suspect that Exodus is trying to give a positive spin on what happened—that they were freely given, and not forcibly taken.” But the problem is, the original writers and readers of this story would actually prefer this to be that about the Israelites forcibly taking things from the Egyptians by terrifying them. That’s how their culture was back in those days; it glorified war, victory, and plunder of the defeated. And in fact, elsewhere in the Exodus account, it speaks triumphantly of how “terror” would befall Israel’s enemies. So, if anything, the “spin” is the other way around; the gifts were freely given with favor and respect, and Exodus writers “spun” this by phrasing it as “Israel plundering Egypt,”
But why would Egyptians act this way, after all that happened? And the answer, I think, goes back to precisely what we’ve considered regarding what these plagues would’ve meant to their culture and society. By keeping these foreigner Hebrews enslaved, they had been undermining their own sacred principle of Ma’at that protected and structured their entire world. Listening to this God, “Yahweh,” by setting these slaves free to follow His call into the desert would restore this principle. So, to them, these Israelites were in fact embarking on a sacred journey on their behalf, to restore this cosmic principle that their world was founded on. So, in turn, they were funding this critical mission by gifting these people with what they’d need. And later in the Exodus account, God implicitly confirms that this will be the dynamic between Israel and other nations. “Though the whole world is Mine,” God declares later, “Israel will be to Me a nation of priests”—that is, representatives of all humankind to God. A bridge between us and all of reality.
But what would that even mean? Israel wouldn’t know until later. All they knew then was that they were now freed from their slavery. And filled with joy, they prepared to leave. And the Egyptians gifted them with treasures they’d need in their meeting with God, a meeting that would restore the Ma’at. But they also strongly insisted that they hurry—their feelings obviously couldn’t have been all positive, if we think about it. It was more like, shoving the Israelites with treasures, saying, “Here’s what you’ll need. Here’s that and more. Please take it! But go now! Hurry up and go to where God is calling you and fix things before something worse happens!”
And the Israelites were in such a hurry that they weren’t able to properly prepare their food. That is, if you know about baking bread, when you knead the dough, you need to let it sit a while for yeast to work its way through, which makes it, well, fluffy, when you bake it. They had no time for that, so they baked bread without yeast, which made it hard and crusty. That btw is the bread you eat in seder meals that commemorate the Passover and the Exodus, and what Jesus and his disciples ate, at the first Eucharist.
Now, as they set out, Exodus reports that a “pillar” of cloud and fire went ahead of them to guide them. We’ll explore this more in a future episode, as this pillar becomes a constant beacon throughout their journey later. But for now, what we can say is that this “pillar” is described as the manifestation of God’s guiding power for the Israelites as they set out from Egypt. There are, of course, several proposals for what it physically was. Some people suggest that it was a distant volcano—you may recall that in a previous episode of this fourth Season, one natural explanation of the plagues of the storm of hail, followed by darkness that blotted out the sun, was a volcanic eruption. Some others think it was what we call today the “fire-whirl,” a whirlwind composed of heated air and well, fire, which can happen in desert climes. Others insist that it was something beyond any natural phenomena. And of course, this series would consider any of those answers, as interesting but really just side-issues. After all, since all of reality is God speaking, this phenomenon could be any one of such things and more. What is important is that whatever it was, it seemed to show them where to head next.
And so, they followed it, elated and full of expectations, at least at first. But, where it led them was somewhere they did not expect. To the edge of the sea.
[Short Pendulum ]
For most of us, we “hear” God speaking only in terms of perceiving what is happening in our lives—or to put it differently, perceiving how reality is unfolding around us. In fact, many of us today won’t even think of that as “God” speaking. And even those of us who do, will tend to “hear” God speaking to them, only by trying to figure out what these happenings seem to mean for us. Why did a plague strike this city? Why is a thick veil of darkness blotting out the sun? And so forth. And btw this “Why” isn’t some scientific question of what natural process underlie these phenomena; again, if there is some natural cause, that too is God speaking, as are every law of nature. The point is why this event now, and seemingly in response to what we’ve been doing; I suppose the closest equivalent today would be asking, “Is this sudden rise in global temperature, mainly our doing?” Is this how reality is responding to what we’ve done?
But, even this is not something we do often. Because what God is speaking to us through such things tend to go unheard unless it’s something that drastically disrupt our lives—something that we are forced to pay attention to. Such as the plagues of Exodus, which would’ve been a blaring alarm for the Egyptians that they’ve somehow been undermining the principle that founded their very world. Or for the Israelites, a pillar of fire and cloud that seem to move ahead of them—that would’ve caught their attention.
However, some of us hear God personally speaking to them before these things happen; they do not experience these events and then, often in panic, wonder what God is speaking; God speaks into their hearts first. Such people are then called to relay what God is speaking to those around them. And these individuals are called “prophets” in the Bible. Well, there’s more to this, but this covers the basics, which’ll do for now.
Moses was a prophet. God personally spoke to him. Then, he in turn relayed what God spoke with his people, the elders of Israel, and to Pharaoh and to Egypt. Before the plagues struck Egypt, he heard that they would strike. And before that night when the tenth plague struck every living firstborn in Egypt, he relayed to his people that they weren’t exempt from what was coming—that they had to mark their houses with the blood of a lamb and shelter in it.
And before the final plague, God had spoken to Moses of what reality would unfold next. Pharaoh would finally set his people free. But they would need to hurry, so they had to be ready: they were to be dressed and prepared to leave at any moment, and they were to make bread without yeast to take quickly and bake them on their way. But then, as Israel began following the pillar of cloud and fire, God spoke to Moses again. They will be led toward the sea, and they were to encamp on its edges. There, they will find that Pharaoh will have broken his word once again, for he will pursue them with an elite, mobile division of his army—his chariots—to enslave them again.
In the meanwhile, Pharaoh and his officials began to reconsider their decision to free their Hebrew slaves. They began to say to each other—and here’s a paraphrase of their words: “Now that we think of it, we can’t keep up our lifestyle and privilege without these slaves. We really shouldn’t have let them go.” And it is interesting that that was their motivation and response, according to Exodus. Popular retellings of this story today has the Egyptians chasing after the Israelites due to their desire for revenge for the death of their firstborns. But that is not what they say here, even though it would’ve been the most obvious reason. Instead, they want to keep their fixed system of injustice, which ignored the call of God toward them. And this implies that the Exodus account is trying to get at a much more profound point in what unfolds next than some human drama of disaster and vengeance; it’s trying to describe a larger pattern to our history.
Exodus reports that the Egyptian royal court thus hardened their heart, and assembled a mobile task-force, an entire division of war-chariots, and began pursuing their now freed slaves. Or rather, the account reports that it was God that hardened their hearts. And we’ve already explored what it means for God to harden people’s hearts. In this case, their now hard-wired tendency to break their word and keep a tyrannical hold on their foreign, vagabond slaves, overrode their prior promise and their better judgment. This was what they had always done, due to greed, power, and arrogance, which had them ignore what God was speaking to them for centuries, even as it undermined their own sacred principle of truth and justice. So now, after so long, this was no longer something that they could even consciously control.
It wouldn’t be the first time we humans have become captivated by our harmful habits, and it definitely would not be the last time. Just a couple of centuries ago, the U.S. had become so entrenched on its reliance on enslaved Africans, that nothing less than a protracted, devastating war could break its hold; even today, the very way we live are continually amplifying our environmental and climate catastrophes around us, but we are unable to break our habit, even when we do acknowledge their harms. That is how reality unfolds inside of us in response to what we do—it forms the inner cages in which we have trapped ourselves. And that part of reality is also God speaking.
That is what meant for God to have once again hardened the hearts of Pharaoh and his royal court. And this will in turn make these powerful rulers of Egypt race headlong, inevitably and inescapably, to a final confrontation. Their willful ignorance and actions, their habits and addictions—these will clash with Reality; that’s what always happens. And this time, that very clash will be their confrontation with God that has freed their slaves. There, they will come to learn with finality that there are things, which will never bend to our will, no matter our power and might in this world. And so, God declares to Moses even before Pharaoh and his army set out that Egypt will in the end know that the voice that has been speaking to them, the one that has freed their slaves is indeed “Yahweh”—the name that means, if you remember the first half this Season, the One Who is, and unfold all that happens: Reality that is and will be.
And it is again the Sea where Egypt will confront that Reality—the God of Israel.
[Pendulum ]
Water has always meant something profound and almost mystical to us. It is the source of life; yet, also a powerful force of destruction. And seemingly it surrounds us on all sides, as rain from above, spring-water from below, and the vast oceans that encircle our lands. This was one reason why the cultures of the ancient Mediterranean, from Egypt, Mesopotamia to the Levant, believed that beyond their world was an endless expanse of water. Immeasurable water above was held up by the sky; fathomless deep churned below the earth; and the sea—the sea—was just the edge of this unending expanse that bordered this world of humanity.
However, this wasn’t just some ancient, pre-scientific version of how we regard the universe—with Space filled with water, instead of well, void. I mean, it was that too, but it was also far more than that. For the ancient world around Israel, waters of the Sea was the primordial substance from which everything emerged, and vast and terrifying monsters of the deep stirred within its depths even now—creatures that rivaled and even fought against their gods. And as we explored in our Second Season, it is this infinite expanse, that the Spirit of God “hovers” and “breathes upon” to create the world.
So, what then is the Sea in the Bible? Well, we can probably think of it this way. An infinite realm of possibilities.
Even in our current, scientific Big Bang cosmology, there is still something from which this physical universe began—whether a singularity where current laws of physics cannot apply, or fluctuating quantum foam where virtual particles pop in and out of existence, or a higher dimensional manifold from which multiple universes can emerge, each vastly different from the others. All of these speculations are about a realm of possibilities beyond the physical laws of our current universe. And for Christianity, all such laws are the Logos—God speaking to create the world. And in Genesis? Before speaking the Logos of our world, the Spirit of God encircles, hovers, and breathes upon this infinite possibility, represented by the endless abyss of water.
Did you notice the word, “Abyss”? Because today, we tend to think of the word, “possibility” almost solely in positive terms. Like, our future is full of possibilities! That’s exciting, isn’t it? Well, if we think about it a little, we’ll realize that within that endless possibilities are also catastrophes, violence, and tragedies. Or to put it to you more viscerally, think about this. Say you are alone in a large house during a dark night, and suddenly you hear a loud noise outside your room—noise you’ve never heard before. Then another, closer this time, inside your room. Before you get up, and turn on that light, what are the things that are going through your head? What are you imagining that sound to be? Because that’s part of this realm of possibilities represented by the Sea. Possibilities include terrifying things. That is why in ancient mythology, terrible monsters lurked in the depths of the sea.
In fact, our imaginations quite readily turn to such imageries, don’t they? Deeper the ocean, greater the monsters—from Jaws, to Godzilla, to Cthulhu. And interestingly enough, we do the same for outer space. In our imagination, beyond just the bare scientifically established knowledge regarding it, space contain both exciting promises, new scientific discoveries, and encounters with new life, worlds, and wonders; but it also contains unfathomable dangers—chest-bursting aliens, world-ending asteroids and cosmic rays. Because both the “Sea” of the ancients, and the outer space in today’s imagination points to that same place—the same realm.
Beyond our world is an infinite expanse; this is a fundamental way we perceive our world to be, even now. Which is an odd thing really, since our current science tells us, through its Big Bang Cosmology, that our universe—or Space—may not actually be endless; it certainly began as something that was finite in size, and may even now still have an "end." But we don’t think that. Because what is truly endless, no matter how our physical universe turn out to be, is the infinite possibilities that Reality holds. That’s the idea: Reality… is infinite; and our world, the world we know and see and live today, is only a tiniest piece inside. And God is Reality, and all of reality is God speaking.
And that’s the problem. In fact, according to Genesis, it is humanity’s deepest, greatest problem, which lies at the root of our Fall. Because in Genesis, as we explored in our Second Season, humanity fell from God when we gained the knowledge of good and evil—or more precisely, the knowledge of both the good things and bad things that reality can unfold in our lives. But, we gained it through in an act of profound distrust toward God—toward That Which encircles the infinite array of possibilities, and speaks them forth into being. And that means we are now filled with dread toward what that Reality—what God—holds and unfolds. We are terrified of that endless expanse of possibilities that the Spirit of God encircles and commands—the “Sea.” And when God judged the hellish world of lies and murder that humanity then made for themselves in the days of Noah, it was indeed that “Sea” that flooded and unraveled our world.
And now, the very people who were saved from a similar judgment from God, the final plague of Egypt, was being led to that “Sea.” So too their former masters, who pursued them, in open defiance to God and toward their own sacred promises. Both would confront the edge of that expanse, now terrifyingly hostile to humanity.
[Short Pendulum]
All this consideration so far about what the “Sea” represents do not mean that the story of Exodus is just some kind of symbolic message, and not a historical event. In fact, for the Bible, history itself is a message. We need to remember that the ancient peoples did not regard the Sea as a “symbol” of something else; the Sea was that primordial realm of possibilities—that is what ancient Israelites and the Egyptians would’ve have perceived the Sea to be. That was what would’ve been “speaking” to them in history. And of course, the question of the historicity of the events portrayed in the Exodus account is a separate question, which we’ll consider in a later episode.
But, there were more mundane and physical reasons stated in Exodus why they were by the Sea. The land where Israel was headed was across the Red Sea from Egypt, and the only land bridge leading there were heavily fortified militarily. So, God led them away from the fortified borders to the inlet of this Sea around the Nile Delta, where the salt waters of the Sea, and the waters of the Nile came together to form a series of saltwater lakes and reedy marshlands. The area Exodus calls the “Sea of Reeds.”
And the Israelites, following the pillar of cloud and fire, came to this area and found themselves unable to go forward. The edge of the “Sea,” the saltwater lakes, and dangerous marshlands together hemmed them in. Their elation gradually turned to unease, and then apprehension. And that turned into full-on panic when they heard that a division of Egyptian war-chariots had pursued them and now trapped them in this area, blocking off their route back to safer lands. Panic turned, predictively, to terror, and then shifting of blames. They angrily turned to Moses saying, “This is all your fault. We told you to leave us alone. Life of slavery here wasn’t that bad—at least, it’d be better than dying in this empty forsaken land!’
Such was the difference between those who only guess at what God is saying through the things that happen around them, and the ones who actually hear God personally speaking to them. Moses was the latter; so he replied, “Don’t be afraid. Today you will see what God, what “Yahweh” will unfold for you, to fight for you and save you!” But it seems he was not entirely unafraid himself, as God then speaks to him. “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to keep going. Toward the Sea. And raise your staff to divide the waters, so that they will go on dryland through it.” And just as Moses did so, a wind began to blow upon the waters.
The wording here in Exodus is a clear call back to Genesis. The word “Wind” can also mean “breath,” and “Spirit,” and it this very “wind” and “Spirit” of God that encircles and breathes upon the infinite Sea in Genesis, as God speaks to create the cosmos. It is also this “Wind” from God that moves upon the world after it unraveled into the Flood. That’s what makes the waters recede back into the Sea, so that Noah’s family leaves the Ark and rebuilds the human world. And now, this wind—east wind—began to blow.
Exodus reports that this wind slowly but surely pushed the water apart—a process that took an entire night. Now, I believe I mentioned this before, but there’s an interesting recent scientific paper, which proposed that a phenomenon called the wind set-down would’ve caused the sea in this area to part.[2] The authors weren’t out to prove the Bible or anything; they were testing their computer model that simulates how bodies of water, like the sea, behaves in different circumstances, following known laws of physics. And according to their simulations, a strong east wind blowing upon a coastal lagoon that was in that area in the time of Exodus would part the waters there, and form a land passage of some 3 miles across. That is, if the wind blew upon it for around 10 hours, or as the account describes it, “the entire night.” What’s notable is the details in the Bible that the authors paid attention to; for example, they set the wind speed at “gale force.” Why? Because anything stronger, the children and the elderly would not be able to walk across that passage through that wind. So, is this what happened? Who knows? Again, whether it’s a natural phenomena that we can explain or not is beside the point, since all things, natural or otherwise, is God speaking and unfolding.
What is important is what this would’ve meant for those ancient people—well, other than the obvious and practical, “there’s an escape route, we’re saved!” response. Before them was the edge of a realm beyond human reach, the very substance of untamable, formless possibility that wells from an unending abyss. From it, their current world emerged, and into it their world may yet unravel. Then, a wind, which to them was the most tangible power of God that encompasses this whole, infinite realm, set down upon where they were, and began opening it. And like a gate, its shapeless flux slowly but surely swung aside, forming itself into walls that lined a path forward, beckoning them forth.
Into a future they did not know, nor believed would ever come. A new, unknown world.
Meanwhile, the Egyptian army had been on stand-by, confident that they had blocked their former slaves off from the only escape route out of the maze of marshlands, and coastal lagoons by the sea. They would’ve hunted these fugitives down sooner, but an ominously dark pillar of cloud that had been ahead of these slaves had moved back and settled between their two camps just before nightfall. So they had waited here, rather than marching through the dangerous marshlands in the dark. After all, where could these slaves possibly go now? But then, when the morning came, they found that they were gravely wrong. Strong winds overnight had somehow separated the waters, revealing a land passage beneath, and the Israelites were fleeing through it. Pharaoh’s army hurriedly got on their chariots to chase after them; they did realize that things were deeply wrong. Yet, they’d come too far; they could no longer stop themselves, or see or think anything else but to seize their fugitive slaves, to prop up their rule.
Yet, as they reached the sea, “Yahweh” threw them into confusion and the wheels of their chariots began to fall off—for their heavy chariots sank into the wet grounds. At last, they tried to turn back. But it was too late. They had been trespassing in a realm humanity were normally not permitted to tread. And Pharaoh’s army, had chased their slaves into this realm. So, as the Israelites finished their crossing, God spoke to Moses to stretch his staff toward the parted waters. And the Sea that had opened like a gate, now began to close shut with terrifying force. Waters that the wind had moved, surged back to its rightful place in the form of tidal waves, and fell upon its trespassers.
For this was the “Sea,” from which the Flood once surged from above and below to unravel the whole world by God’s judgment. Only the Israelites had been permitted there, marked with the blood of the lamb that saved them from the plague, just as the Ark saved Noah’s family from the Flood. Only they were invited forward—to meet God that beckoned from beyond; only they, who were called for a task that would keep humanity from yet another Flood. A task that Pharaoh and his court had dismissed.
And so closes the story of the Israelites’ Exodus. With the world they knew and lived, the ancient civilization of Egypt that had enslaved behind them, and a new world through the sea ahead of them. Yet, with it, a new story would open.
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So join me next episode, as we continue this second half of our fourth Season, to explore the world that unfolded now before them, and God who awaited them there.
Thank you for listening, and please follow, subscribe, and share this series with others, and rate it on your Apple podcast and other platforms. You can also support this series at buymeacoffee.com—which you can go to by clicking on the line, “Support the show” in the episode description.
[1] For example, the Christian Gospels where Jesus identifies himself as the Passover lamb, whose blood marked the houses of those the tenth plague passed over. The Flood is likewise linked with the salvation by Jesus Christ in 1 Peter 3:18-21, and Jesus compares the day of salvation and judgment he will bring to the Flood in Matthew 24:37-39 and Luke 17:26-27.
[2] Carl Drews and Weiqing Han, "Dynamics of Wind Setdown at Suez and the Eastern Nile Delta," PLOS ONE 5, no. 8 (2010): e12481, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0012481.