A Story of God and All of Us

PART TWO

EXODUS

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Almost five hundred years have passed since Abraham died. The banks of the Nile River are drenched in blood. The descendants of Abraham are hundreds of miles from the Promised Land, and a generation from ever setting eyes upon it. They are slaves in the land of Egypt, but they are also a proud and hard people. As God promised, they have become as numerous as the stars in the skies--so numerous, in fact, that a new form of evil is visiting them: infanticide. The Egyptian Pharaoh has become fearful that his many Hebrew slaves will rise up and rebel against his authority. So he has sent his soldiers throughout the land--village to village, house to house--to kill every Hebrew boy.

Mothers wail as their infant sons are snatched from their hands and carried off in broad daylight. The grisly sight of pushcarts filled with screaming baby boys is commonplace. But they will not scream for long. Egyptian soldiers merely throw these swaddled young infants into the Nile, where they either drown or make a quick meal for the legendary Nile crocodile.

Yet one brave Jewish woman is taking extraordinary measures to save her child. For three long months she has successfully concealed her boy from the Egyptian soldiers. Now she fights for her baby's life by wrapping him in a blanket and concealing him in a basket. The simple basket, known as a tevah , which means "ark," is this nameless mother's version of Noah's ark.

Just as God sent Noah to save the world, she has fashioned a second ark that will carry a boy who will become a man and continue the job that Noah had begun.

Then comes the hard part--so hard that she cannot bear to witness it herself.

Instead, she sends her daughter, Miriam, to hide the basket in the reeds along the Nile's edge, knowing that the number of terrible

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things that might happen to her child is almost endless: crocodiles, six-foot-long cobras, the deadly asp. And, of course, the infant boy could be swept away on the current, leaving Miriam to helplessly stand on the shore and watch her brother float off to his death.

Miriam doesn't want to do this, but she has no choice. Either she hides her brother in the reeds, or he is sure to die at the hands of Egyptian soldiers.

Better to do something--even something foolish--than to let her brother be pulled from her mother's breast and hurled into the dark blue waters of the Nile. Now she watches helplessly. She tries to remain calm as she follows the little ark along the water's edge.

Every morning, the Pharaoh's daughter Batya is in the habit of stepping down to the Nile with her maids to bathe. There she removes her

diaphanous robe and steps into the water. On this morning her face is serene in the morning light. Miriam, who has been watching the progress of her brother's basket, bites her lip in anticipation as the tevah holding the boy bobs nearer and nearer to where the princess wades.

The current carries the basket right into Batya's head as she glides through the water. Miriam, hidden behind the reeds on the water's edge, follows the ark. The princess covers herself as she stands up in horror and backs toward the shore. Her maids are hysterical, which is quite a cacophony, for there are more than a few of them, and they are all prone to squealing and wailing.

Miriam cannot rush to her brother's defense, but knows that unless someone retrieves the basket, it will be swept downstream.

A startled Batya does nothing. The tevah slips farther and farther away. Then she hears a baby cry. "Be quiet, all of you," she commands her maids, as she makes a long, stretching reach for the basket.



Miriam's heart soars as Batya lifts the young boy from the basket and clumsily attempts to cradle him. Batya is too young to have a child of her own, knows nothing about holding or taking care of a baby, and immediately grasps that this child is not an Egyptian, but an Israelite slave.

"Please put it back, my lady," beseeches a maid, as if the infant is a dangerous being.

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Miriam, a girl of great faith, knows nothing of Batya's character, and begins to pray. If the princess is mean, evil, or simply goes along with Pharaoh's wishes, she could hurl the child out into the current. Miriam prays for intervention, that God would touch Batya's heart and spare her brother's life, so that she can bring her mother good news. "Please God," begs Miriam.

"Please don't kill him. Please don't kill him. Please God... help him."

God hears Miriam's prayer.

Batya smiles at the baby boy. "This one lives," she proclaims, pulling the child to her bosom.

"But what will the Pharaoh say?"

"Let me deal with the Pharaoh. This is my boy now. And I shall name him Moses." Moses , the Egyptian name meaning "drawn out of the water."

Miriam approaches, driven by the fear that she will never again see her brother. "If it pleases you, Highness, I can find a wet nurse for the boy," she says. For the enslaved to even speak to a member of the royalty is absurd, so for Miriam to be so bold is astounding.

Yet the Pharaoh's daughter sees the wisdom in this plan. "Do this at once,"

she commands.

Miriam rushes to her mother and tells of Moses's new home and the need for a wet nurse. Her mother cries out in joy. Her son will live.

Eighteen Years Later

Prince Moses stares straight forward as his maidservant applies the black kohl eyeliner that will protect his eyes from the sun's rays and harmful desert



dust particles. Moses is a muscular young man, full of ideals and optimism.

He has grown up in the Pharaoh's court as a surrogate grandson and never known a day of fear, worry, or hardship. His every wish is granted and every whim catered to--most unlike the Hebrew slaves who toil for Pharaoh, from whom he is unknowingly descended. Few know Moses' true story, least of all Moses himself.

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The servant moves behind Moses to fasten the amulet around his neck, as he does every morning. This talisman will guarantee safety and good luck, though given Moses' luxurious surroundings, wearing it is more of a ritual to appease the many gods of Egypt.

Batya, his mother, enters his dressing room looking very worried. She is no longer the teenage girl who brought Moses to the palace so many years ago, but she has not lost her great beauty. "Moses," she says wearily, "I hope you're not going to fight again."

The prince stands, dressed for combat. He towers over her, his rippling biceps and bronzed chest a reminder that he has spent many an hour training in the art of hand-to-hand fighting. "He keeps challenging me, Mother," Moses says calmly.

"So refuse him!"

"I cannot, Mother. Even though he is family and of equal age, he is still Pharaoh's son." A sword leans against a nearby bench. Moses lifts it up and grips it with two hands. "I have no choice."

The clang of swords soon echoes through the palace courtyard. On one side of the arena is Moses, a skilled and careful swordsman with a deep competitive streak. On the other is a son of Rameses and heir to the Egyptian throne. Both are armed with a sword and shield. They are both nothing more than teenage boys, but someday they may be called upon to lead great armies into battle, and thus it is vital that they prepare for the art of war.

"I've been practicing," young Rameses cries with false bravado. His teeth



are gritted as he warily circles Moses, eyes fixed on his opponent's sword.

"We don't have to do this," Moses says evenly.

"Yes, we do," Rameses vows, feeling the thick beads of sweat coursing down his forehead and into his eyes.

The sound of sword on sword alerts Pharaoh to the duel. He is annoyed as he hurries through the columns and statues filling his palace.

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Batya walks with him, struggling to keep up. "They're fighting again," she explains to her father.

"I can hear that."

"Do something!" Batya says anxiously.

"I told you to control Moses," Pharaoh says curtly. "You didn't. And now you expect me to sort it out?"

"They'll kill each other! Father... please..."

An impatient and weary Pharaoh looks at Batya. Moses has been a

welcome, though unnatural, addition to his court, but now Pharaoh has grown weary of him--particularly since Batya's adopted child has more strength, insight, and ambition than his own son. If something were to happen to Rameses, Moses might become the heir to his throne, thanks to Batya's considerable influence. That cannot be, and things are about to change. "You want me to deal with it? I will," he says coldly.

Back in the arena young Rameses is growing more confident. It is a fool's confidence, not based at all in fact. But he chooses to taunt Moses. "You may be my sister's favorite, but I am the next in line to my father's throne--and don't forget it." He lunges, thrusting his sword at Moses' side.

Bored, Moses deflects the blow, and all that is left of the attempt is the clang ricocheting off the smooth rock walls lining the combat pit.

When Rameses sees that Moses has no intention of fighting back, he attempts attack after attack, hacking down hard on Moses' shield with his sword. Moses even falls to one knee as a sign that this duel is senseless, but the attacks continue.

"Ha!" cries Rameses. "I made you kneel!"

Moses stands. He holds up his shield but lets his sword dangle uselessly to the ground. "Enough. I don't want to hurt you."

"Fight me, Moses. I command you!"

But Moses turns his back. An enraged Rameses runs at him, and attacks Moses from behind. This violates every rule of combat, and both men know it. Fed up with his cousin's behavior, Moses turns and fights.

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Moses strikes blow after blow on Rameses' shield and says, like an older brother to an impetuous younger sibling, "I will not tolerate this foolish behavior any longer."

Rameses falls to one knee and cowers behind his shield, hoping Moses doesn't take the next step and kill him.

Pharaoh arrives just in time to see Moses embarrassing his son, making the future Pharaoh look weak and unfit. Batya and several palace courtiers are at his side, witnesses to Rameses' shame. Word will soon spread in the palace and throughout the nearby villages, and make it apparent that Moses should be the next Pharaoh. "Stop!" thunders Pharaoh's voice.

But Moses has worked up a righteous lather. He hurls himself at young Rameses again, slamming him into a wall covered in hieroglyphics.

"Enough," insists the Pharaoh. "Leave him alone!"

Moses never intended to go in for the kill, but young Rameses is winded. In the concluding fray and confusion of the moment, Moses' sword blade cuts sharply across Rameses' cheekbone. A gash opens, and blood pours forth.

Rameses will not die from this wound, but it will become a horrible scar once it heals.

" Moses! " Pharoah barks.

A chastened Moses turns from Rameses and looks to Pharaoh.

Rameses screams at Moses in pain. "You will pay for this! I will be Pharaoh.

I will be God!" He then turns to his father. "It is your fault. You should have never let her keep him," Rameses screams, spitting blood at the ground.

Then, a final jab at Moses: "You're not even one of us!"

"He's right," Pharaoh tells Batya.

Moses stares at his mother, who looks away. The truth is starting to dawn on him. "What's he talking about?"

"Tell him," Pharaoh orders his daughter. With that, Pharaoh and a smirking Rameses leave the arena, followed by a small army of unnerved courtiers.

A most confused Prince Moses is left alone with Batya. "Tell me what, Mother?" he asks, not sure if he wants to know the answer.

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Batya bows her head but says nothing.

"What?" Moses pleads. "Tell me. Who is my father?"

A tear falls down Batya's cheek. "Moses, I love you like a son. But you are not my blood."

"Then who... is my mother?" he mumbles in shock. "Where did I come from?"

Batya starts talking, and the words spill forth. "You were the child of slaves,"

she begins, tenderly cupping his face in her hands. "Father killed all the male children of your people--because they were too many, and a threat."

"Just as I am now a threat to Rameses."

"Yes."

"What do you mean when you say, 'my people'?"

Batya takes him to a window. In the distance they can see the Hebrews laboring in the hot sun. "The slaves, Moses. You were a slave child. I saved you. You also have a brother. And a sister. But they are not like you and me.

They worship the god of their ancestor Abraham, and he has deserted them."

"And my real mother? Where is she?"





Batya falls silent. Moses rushes out of the room. He must see these people--

his people--for himself.

Moses walks, haunted. He is horrified by the sight of slaves being beaten, and then kicked once they fall to the ground. He watches men, women, and children labor in the blazing sun. The heat is like an inferno. Their faces are weary and their spirits are broken. His people are without a hope or a future.

In his eighteen years in the Pharaoh's court, Moses has never paid these people any heed. They have always been beneath him, a separate people he never noticed. Until now, he has never known nor witnessed the cruelty they suffer in daily existence. His heart is in conflict, for this could easily have been him. Somewhere among them is a family he has never known.

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Moses hears an anguished shout: "No!" He turns to see an Israelite slave being dragged into the shadows of a nearby building. "Please, no," the slave screams. Moses follows the sound into a blind corner, where he finds a slave master beating a young man with a large club.

"Filthy slave," sneers the overseer, spitting on the Hebrew.

He lands blow after blow, even though the man cowers and tries to cover his face. Moses doesn't know what to do. This is not his business. The slave surely did something to deserve these painful blows. As the stick rises into the air and comes down again and again, Moses can no longer be an innocent bystander. Without fully realizing what he is doing, Prince Moses--a resident of the great Pharaoh's palace and recognized throughout the land as the son of Batya--walks back toward the slave master and picks up a large stone. He approaches the slave master from behind and raises the rock high over his head.

The slave master turns just in time to see Moses preparing for the blow that would crush his head and kill him instantly. He reaches out and in the confusion grabs instinctively the golden amulet dangling from Moses' neck, somehow managing to curl his fist around it. It offers him no protection from the blow. But as he falls dead the amulet is still curled inside his fist.

Moses is stunned, as he looks at the dead Egyptian at his feet. He is not sure what to do next. He runs.



The slave master has been hastily buried by other slaves to hide the crime.

Rather than a grand stone tomb like the Pharaohs or wealthier members of Egyptian society, his body has simply been placed in a hole scraped from the hard desert sand, and then thrown inside. The Hebrew slaves have done the backbreaking word of digging the grave, and as might be expected when burying a cruel man they have long loathed, the hole is so shallow that it can barely hold the body. A thin layer of dirt was kicked over the body.

Later that night, a hard rain begins to fall, a welcome relief from the 59

oppressive heat. It washes dirt away from the grave, revealing the dead overseer's hand, clutching the gold amulet he ripped from Moses' neck.

Neither vultures nor wild dogs find the slave master first, but soldiers from the Pharaoh's palace, who bring Prince Rameses.

A soldier's torch illuminates a shiny piece of metal in the overseer's dead fist.

Rameses leans over out of curiosity and is rewarded with a piece of gold he knows all too well: Moses' amulet necklace. Rameses smiles. This is all the proof he needs. There is no more guessing to be done: Moses is the killer.

Rameses does not feel a single drop of the rain. "Welcome to your new life, Moses!" he exults. "You are nothing now. Nothing. And you never will be..."

By nightfall, word has spread throughout Pharaoh's kingdom about Moses'

heinous crime. In the dark of night, torches are used to search the desert for clues to the whereabouts of Moses, who is now a fugitive from the Pharaoh's law.

"We can catch him," one of Pharaoh's top commanders says to Rameses.

"No. Let him run," replies Rameses. His humiliation from the sword fight with his cousin is still fresh, and it fuels his thirst for vengeance. "There's no water out there in the desert. No food. He will die soon enough."

Four decades pass.

Rameses now sits on the Egyptian throne, that scar given him by Moses a daily reminder that his nemesis is out there somewhere.

Although Moses escaped that night long ago after murdering the overseer, he never got a chance to say good-bye to Batya or to thank her for saving his life when he was an infant. Life as a prince is a distant memory. Now he is a shepherd, living in the land of Midian, on the Arabian peninsula, destined to spend each moment of each day alone with his flock. It is a hard, lonely life.

His beard is long, and his face is dry and bronzed by the sun. His body is hard and strong from having survived the elements.

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On this day, he holds on to his tent for dear life, and the canvas flaps violently in the desert wind. Sand blasts every bit of exposed skin, and he shuts his eyes hard to avoid the sting. His tent is about to blow away. He lets go the canvas and moves from tent post to tent post, hammering them deeper into the soil with a large flat stone. With each crack of his strong arms bringing the rock down hard on the wooden pegs, Moses finds his thoughts drifting back to Egypt.The sound and movement are very much like those long ago when he crushed in the overseer's skull. The land of his birth haunts him.

Crack --he sees the slaves in the building site.

Crack --the unknown faces staring at him in the crowd of slaves.

Crack --the bloodied face of the man he killed.

Crack --a woman carrying a water jug. Could that be his sister?

Moses' hands are bleeding now. He forces himself to forget Egypt in order to save his tent. The wind is blowing harder, and it has created havoc all around him. A small bush, uprooted by the gusts, tumbles past and then comes to a stop, seemingly pinned on a rock just a few feet away.

Moses grabs a rope to secure the tent, but the cord whips from his calloused hands. It doesn't matter--the tent finally appears to be secure. With a last look at his sheep, which have pressed their bodies to the ground nearby, he staggers inside his tent to weather the storm. The wind continues to blow.

Moses wraps himself in a rough blanket. He tosses and turns, trying to get a few hours' sleep as lightning flashes outside. The night goes white, just for that instant.

And then, silence.

But Moses does not find peace. The sudden silence after hours of noise is jarring. His eyes blink open. He rises to his feet and stumbles outside to see if the storm has truly passed.

He expects to see darkness. Perhaps a patch of starlight in an otherwise cloud-filled sky. He expects to see lightning crackling on the horizon. And, worst of all, Moses half-expects his flock to be scattered, which would mean yet another endless night wandering through the

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wilderness to find them and bring them back to the little hardscrabble patch of dead grass and stone that he optimistically calls a pasture.

But he sees none of that.

What he sees is far more unnerving: the small bush that had tumbled past earlier in the day is now completely ablaze. Yet the leaves and branches do not burn. And there is no smell of smoke. It is just a flame, brilliant as the daytime sun.

Moses approaches cautiously, wary of the intense heat. As he does, the flames begin to roar with a distorted and disembodied sound. Moses walks closer. He shields his face with his hand, lest the heat burn him and the light blind him.

In the distance, thunder rolls in a low growl. But in that growl, Moses hears a voice. "Moses! Moses!"

"Here I am," he replies cautiously.

A deafening clap of thunder. Moses raises his hands to his ears, exposing his eyes and face to the intensity of the fiery bush.

"You are real?"

The fire burns so bright that Moses must shield his eyes.

" I AM, " a voice tells him. "I am the God of your father. The God of Abraham.

The God of Isaac. The God of Jacob."

Moses hides his face, because he is afraid to look at God. "What do you want with me?" he asks.

Another clap of thunder. This one makes Moses jump back in panic.



"I understand the misery of your people-- my people. I hear them every night in my dreams. They cry out for freedom," says God.

A loud wind rages. The flames on the bush roar to a new and larger height.

But this time, rather than panic, Moses approaches the bush. He hears his instructions, but he is mystified. "Free? How can I set them free? I am not a prince now. I am nothing. Why would they listen to me? I think this is a mistake. There must be someone else."

The fire grows higher in response. Now the flames reach out to Moses, enveloping him. Yet he is not burned. Rather, he feels a new strength course through his veins. He is overcome with a new sense of purpose.

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"I'll do it," he says, his voice now resolute. "Who shall I say sent me?"

Moses hears the answer on the wind. In that instant, the fire goes out. The bush, still unburned, lies on the ground.

"Lord," he marvels, rolling the word around on his tongue. "Lord... I will do it, Lord. I will set Your people-- my people--free."

Moses sleeps soundly the rest of the night. In the morning, as the sun rises high in a sky as clear and blue as any he has ever seen, Moses leads his flock into Egypt. He will sell that flock the first chance he gets. For his God--

Yahweh, the God of Abraham--is about to give him an entirely new kind of flock.

But tending them won't be as easy.

Rameses has now become Pharaoh. Out of habit he absentmindedly

touches his scar as he enters his throne room to the fanfare of trumpets and the beating of drums. Courtiers trail behind him, careful never to walk abreast or stand taller than the Pharaoh.

To make sure such a calamity never happens, the throne is on a raised dais.

Lackeys who dare not look in his direction are soon carrying a smaller throne up onto the dais, which they place next to the larger throne. This royal chair is reserved for Rameses' son, who will someday earn the divine status of Pharaoh. Ruling Egypt will require years of patience and training, as Rameses himself is well aware. His is the biggest empire on earth, and to be Pharaoh means to be worshipped as one of the gods.

Rameses' ten-year-old son is escorted to the lesser throne. He looks intimidated, and he gazes anxiously at his father for signs of how he should behave. But Rameses offers no affection in response, no guideposts of how a great Pharaoh must rule. Instead, he beckons to a courtier, who quickly steps forth and hands the boy a gilded toy chariot. The child looks up to his father, who smiles and assures him, "One day you will have a whole army of these chariots--real ones."

Meanwhile, in a brickworks far outside those throne room walls,

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a gray-bearded and muscular Moses has walked across the desert and returned to the scene of his capital crime. He smells the fine dust of the Egyptian air and feels a stir of nostalgia as he gazes at the palace in which he was raised in splendor and luxury. Now he sees before him dusty, exhausted slaves guiding carts laden with bricks. Egypt's magnificence is built upon their labor, and is vital to the kingdom's continued growth.

Moses, now an old man, has been given an impossible task: persuade Pharaoh to let those slaves go. They must be set free, even if it means the potential end to Egypt's magnificence. "So much suffering," Moses mumbles under his breath, gazing upon men and women who have never known

freedom. Caked in dust, emaciated, beaten. These are his people. They are wretched and broken, and have no idea what freedom actually means. To them it is an ideal, a whisper of hope, a long-ago promise from a God who has not spoken to them in ages. How is Moses, a wanted murderer who has never lived among them, going to persuade Pharaoh to let them go? And if he does, how is Moses supposed to lead them? The task isn't just

impossible. It's unthinkable. Moses is afraid, but he was called upon by God.

Only the memory of that burning bush helps him fight his urge to turn around and return to his quiet Sinai mountain.

"Hey, old man," barks an overseer, before jarring Moses back to reality by shoving him. The slave master raises his whip to beat him, but a powerfully built slave named Joshua intervenes on Moses' behalf just in time.

"Don't worry, sir. Don't worry," Joshua assures the overseer. "I think he's a little confused. Let me take care of this. I am so sorry."

The overseer looks at Moses and Joshua as if they were the dirt itself. He



spits a great gob of phlegm into the dust and saunters away, cracking his whip as he goes.

Joshua pulls Moses around a corner. When they're out of sight Joshua confronts this stranger who has suddenly appeared in his midst. "Do you want to get us all a beating?" Joshua hisses at Moses. "I ought to beat you myself."

Moses only stares at him.

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"Who are you?" Joshua asks.

"My name is Moses."

A stunned Joshua takes two steps backward. His eyes glaze over in wonder.

"Moses? You are Moses?"

"Yes."

" The Moses?"

A deep breath. A reminder that he has not been forgotten. A call to battle.

"Yes. The Moses."

Later that day it becomes obvious that not everyone is happy to see Moses.

"What do you want from us," demands a slave named Ira.

The Israelite elders stand in the small communal square allotted to the slave community. Moses has been brought forth by Joshua and introduced. A few young men stand nearby, careful not to speak.

Moses takes in the scene as he ponders the best way to answer that question. It is an answer he has sought throughout his long walk back into Egypt, and he knows what he must say. But Moses doesn't answer

immediately. Instead, he looks up to the heavens, where a bird flies free overhead. It inspires Moses at a time when he desperately needs inspiration.

When he finally speaks, something about his tone of voice commands attention. "I am here to set you free."

He hears gasps of surprise. A few look embarrassed.

"That's very kind of you, Your Highness," says the mocking voice of Ira, the self-appointed spokesman for the group.

The comment draws immediate laughter, and Moses feels a surge of self-doubt. But he does not give in to his fears. Instead, he searches the men's faces. Despite the laughter, some of the men are very much intrigued.

"God has sent me," Moses adds.

"God...?" asks Ira, whose voice is just the smallest bit less sarcastic.

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"Yes. God sent me to speak to you. Remember God? Your Creator? The God of your ancestor Abraham?" Men step out of the shadows to listen. The laughter and derision has temporarily subsided. Moses has their attention--

and he means to keep it. "Well, even if you have forgotten about God, He has not forgotten about you."

"In case you had forgotten, Pharaoh is the only god we have to fear," Ira shoots back.

"Who created the earth, the seas, and the sky?" Moses insists. "Or more specifically, who created you?" Before Ira can say a word, Moses adds to his question: "Was it God? Or was it Pharaoh?"

From behind Joshua, Moses can see a woman join the crowd. This is most unusual, for women routinely leave these discussions to the men. With her is another man, roughly Moses' age, though with a slave's haunted eyes and hollow cheeks. This man's eyes are fixed on Moses. His name is Aaron, and the woman's name is Miriam.

Joshua joins the argument. "But why would God send you? And why would Pharaoh see you, let alone listen to you?"

Now Moses is on sure footing. He smiles knowingly. "Oh, he'll want to see me. And I am quite sure he will listen to every word I say."

Aaron speaks for the first time. "He's right."

Moses looks into Aaron's eyes and has a sense that they know one another.



"God sent me a dream," Aaron continues. "He said Moses was coming. And that we must help him win our freedom."

And then, to Moses' great surprise, Aaron is sweeping past Joshua and wrapping his powerful arms around Moses in an enormous hug. "Welcome home, my brother. I am Aaron. And this," he adds, pointing to the woman, "is Miriam. Your sister."

"Brother," she says lovingly, taking Moses' hands in hers.

Moses stares in shock. He can't speak. He feels his emotions rising. "My family," he says, gently touching the side of Miriam's face. Then, searching the eyes of everyone in the room, he adds, "My people."

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Everyone else watches in amazement, unsure of what will happen next. It is Aaron who takes control, even as Moses now falters, searching the eyes of each man in the room, challenging them to defy him.

No one does.

Moses sends word to the palace that he would like to meet with Rameses.

As Moses predicted, the mere mention of his name is enough to produce an audience with the Pharaoh, and soon he and Aaron are escorted up the grand stairway toward Rameses' throne, past ornately carved pillars and statues. The air smells of perfume and palm fronds. This is all new for Aaron.

He tries desperately not to show it, but he is deeply fearful of every aspect of Egyptian royalty. This is the seat of the power, the people who have crushed the Israelites. Aaron cowers as he walks past the Pharaoh's guards, remembering the many times a whip has bitten into his flesh. He tries to walk tall and to feign bravado, but deep inside, Aaron is quite sure that he and Moses will never leave the palace alive.

Moses walks to this homecoming with a gnarled wooden staff in one hand, as towering and imposing as the day he scarred Rameses for life. Memories flood back as he recognizes every statue, every hieroglyph, and every door.

As he strides toward the throne room, he nods now and again at an old friend, exchanging a smile or a tilt of the head now and again. In these halls where he played as a child, he reflects on the odd path his life has taken. To be back home, in these hallowed corridors, under these circumstances, is almost surreal.

A courtier marches the two Israelites into a large hall. Rameses sits before him on a large golden throne. His son sits by his side in a smaller, identical version of the same regal chair. Moses smiles at the boy, who smiles back.

"You have a son," Moses says to Rameses.

"An heir. My family's dynasty will last forever."

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Moses smiles again at the young boy, who shyly looks away. Moses notes the scar on Rameses' face, no less visible for the passing of the years. The Pharaoh has a hard look in his eyes. The two men stare at one another, remembering the past.

"Have you come to beg forgiveness?" says an expectant Pharaoh. He has waited years to hear an apology.

The palace guards step forward. If Moses shows disrespect, a simple snap of Pharaoh's finger will see Moses and Aaron thrown to the ground. If Moses tries to approach Pharaoh, he will be killed.

Instead he stands his guard and speaks. "God saved me," Moses explains.

"For a purpose."

All around the court, the mood has darkened, for it is clear that Moses is not talking about an Egyptian god but the God of Abraham--a god the Egyptians do not know or worship.

"And what purpose would that be?" the Pharaoh says with a bemused expression.

"To demand that you release his people from slavery."

"Demand?" Rameses says, absentmindedly running one index finger down his fight scar. He steps down from his throne and approaches his adoptive nephew. The two men stand eye to eye, a Pharaoh and a Hebrew. In any other situation, Moses would have been instantly struck down and killed for daring to look in Pharaoh's eyes. But there is a deep history between these two men, and this is no ordinary moment.



Moses does not back down. "Let my people go."

"You always were a fighter, but you never knew when you were beaten."

Moses weighs his words before responding. "That's because you never beat me. If you defy God, you will receive a punishment more severe than anything I could have ever imagined inflicting upon you."

"I have a good mind to slam my fist hard into your face, Moses," Rameses hisses, "but I will not revisit our childish matches where you always played unfairly. You kill an upstanding Egyptian, escape a fugitive, and 68

return, after all these years, to threaten me? Tell me, dear Moses, is it your invisible god who's going to punish me ? The one who abandons his people? The one who runs from his responsibility, his past... his family?"

Rameses beckons to the guards. "Show them who god is!"

The guards, large and imposing men, wrap their fists around the necks of Moses and Aaron, then shove them to the hard stone floor. Pharaoh's son watches as Moses and Aaron are beaten. The sights and sounds are

shocking to the young boy. Rameses is showing his son, by example, the way of the Pharaoh: take no half measures when dealing with insurrection.

"I am god!" Rameses shouts in their wake. "I. Am. God."

"No, Rameses," Moses cries out, "you are not God! You are just a man. And you will set my people free, so that they may worship with me in the desert!"

A hard kick in the head silences Moses, but his words echo around the throne room like a portent of doom.

A week later, Moses walks along the banks of the Nile with Ira, sister Miriam, and brother Aaron at his side. He knows that his first real test is upon him.

He has made the Pharaoh angry, but God has protected him, ensuring that Pharaoh will not kill him. He must now convince the Hebrews that God is with them. The Hebrews are a people of faith, but they feel that God has deserted them. Unless God sends a sign, Moses knows, these people will not allow him to speak on their behalf, for fear of the punishment that is sure to follow.



"Moses. You've made Pharaoh angry," Ira warns. "He'll punish us. Don't make it worse."

Moses pauses and looks to the sky. He is lost in his own world for a brief moment, studying a flock of geese flying low and straight above the Nile.

"God has spoken to me," Moses answers, conviction in his tone. "He will make Pharaoh free us--by force, if necessary." Moses turns to Aaron. "We are His agents now, you and I. Are you ready?"

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Aaron nods. "That is why He has brought our family together again."

Miriam moves closer to her brothers. "What should we do?"

"We must trust in God. You will see. He will show us the way to go," Moses responds. He finds his way down through the reeds toward the river's edge.

His hands touch the rushes and he hesitates a moment. God is talking to him, and Moses knows what to do next. Moses draws himself up, raises his arms to heaven, and points his staff to the sky. Then he turns to Aaron and slowly lowers his staff until it points at his brother. "Put your staff to the water," Moses commands him.

Aaron is mystified. He hasn't heard God's voice, and Moses appears to be acting strangely. But he does as he is asked. Aaron drops the tip of his staff in the Nile, barely touching the surface. But from that simple point of contact, the water starts to radiate red. No. Not red. A darker hue. Something more akin to the color of blood. In fact, that's what it is. The waters of the Nile, the greatest river on earth, flowing thousands upon thousands of miles, have turned to blood.

Meanwhile, downstream, Rameses swims in the royal bathing area. He dunks underwater and feels the cool liquid against his skin, a sharp contrast to the scorching desert air. His feet touch the bottom, and he stays under until his lungs feel as if they are going to burst. He stands, lifting his head above the surface. He hears a scream, and looks up at the faces of his courtiers along the banks--hands covering their mouths, eyes wide with horror.

A shocked Rameses looks down to see that he is completely coated in blood. Behind him, the Nile stretches away, still and calm--and bloodred. He hears a voice inside his head. It is the voice of Moses: "You are not God!





You are just a man. And you will let my people go!"

Rameses ignores the voice. He stumbles to the bank, where his slaves wrap him in clean white cloth, through which the blood quickly soaks. One unwitting courtier tries to clean off the blood by reaching into the Nile for a bucket of water, only to dump more blood on his Pharaoh.

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Moses gazes at the Nile, not at all surprised by what has just happened.

Joshua comes to the bank and looks across, not sure what he is seeing. Is this all real?

"Do you doubt?" Moses asks him gently.

Joshua's confusion evaporates, replaced by a sense of purpose.

"All my life," Joshua tells Moses, "I've belonged to Pharaoh. But I will never be a slave to a man again."

"God is with us," Moses assures him.

"So surely, Pharaoh will now let us go. Right? He can see for himself what God can do."

"It won't be that easy." Moses hopes the Israelites can maintain their faith through what is sure to be a long, tough battle. "This is just the first plague, Joshua. God is sending ten plagues to change Pharaoh's mind. Ten.

Prepare yourselves."

The next attack soon follows.

Pharaoh's son is one of the first in the palace to notice. He is playing on the floor of his bedroom with his toy chariot when a frog hops past. Then another, and another, all croaking. Until a tide of frogs fills the palace.

Terrified, the boy climbs onto his bed to escape this horde.

In the throne room, Moses is once again standing before Rameses,

repeating God's command that his people be set free. And though the Pharaoh can clearly hear the screams of his son above the croaking, he refuses to back down. "I will not free my slaves," Rameses says, as he



stands up and sweeps out of the throne room, followed by anxious courtiers.

Moses merely shakes his head, for he knows the many trials the Egyptians are about to face. And he knows that with every refusal by Pharaoh, there will come another, more destructive, plague.

Next comes the death of all Egypt's livestock--cows, sheep, and goats, the source of their meat and milk. The Egyptian people begin to starve. And still Rameses refuses.

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Then the people of Egypt are attacked once again. Hideous boils break out over their skin, even as the Israelites are left unscathed. And still the egotistic Rameses refuses to see the truth. A plague of locusts descends from the heaven, plucking the fields clean of every crop, every bit of grain, and every last morsel of food in the land. Plague after plague visits Egypt, and with each plague, Pharaoh grows more resolute in his refusal to back down.

God then finally does to Egypt what Pharaoh once did to Moses' people: He sends His Angel of Death to kill every firstborn son throughout the land. Just as Pharaoh killed all the firstborn sons of Israel, now God's Angel of Death will do the same to the Egyptians. But to ensure that the Angel of Death won't pay a visit to their homes and families as well, God instructs Moses how to spare the Hebrews from God's vengeance.

Joshua holds a struggling, bleating lamb in the courtyard. His knife flashes and the bleating stops. The lamb's blood flows into a bowl. The man holding the bowl leaves the courtyard and is immediately replaced by the next man in line. He also fills a bowl and leaves, and then is replaced by the next man.

A long line of men wait their turn, knowing that time is of the essence. And if they have forgotten this simple fact, Joshua makes sure to remind them.

"Hurry! Don't spill! Remember: use the blood to mark the entrance to your homes. The lintel and the doorposts."

Moses told them that splashing this above their doors will cause the Angel of Death to pass over their homes--and spare their firstborn children.

Even as Joshua works quickly and methodically, men throughout the Hebrew settlement are using crude brushes to daub blood above their doors.

Moses and Aaron go house to house, ensuring that all precautions are being



made. For after the nine previous plagues, no doubt whatsoever remains that God will do precisely as Moses has prophesied.

"God's word is clear--the blood of a firstborn lamb is His chosen 72

sign," he lectures the occupants of one home who have not heeded his warning. "It is the sign that you are chosen people. Every single house must be marked with blood. Every one!"

Moses looks into the faces of his people, many of whom are holding their children tightly. Their faith in God is being tested to the breaking point.

Even Aaron is confused. "We promised that God would free our people. Yet now He sends death. How can this be?"

Moses glances at Aaron, the strain of leadership etched in his face. He is an introverted man, more comfortable in solitude than taking charge. But this is what God has commanded him to do, so he works his hardest to be the leader that God needs him to be. It is not easy at all. But he has chosen to honor God. God has spoken directly to him.

The sky above is darkening to a bloodred color.

"We must trust in Him," Moses whispers to Aaron.

At midnight, as God has promised, the Angel of Death approaches, seeking to destroy every firstborn male in Egypt. Young and old, it makes no distinction. Aaron, for instance, is a firstborn son. He now huddles inside his home with Moses, fretting at the ominous sight of that awful bloodred sky, praying that the lamb's blood above his doorframe is enough to spare his life.

At the Pharaoh's palace, Rameses is not a firstborn male--but his son is. The ten-year-old stands at his bedroom, staring up in awe at the red sky. He is heir to the throne. The future of an entire dynasty. Rameses' hopes and dreams rest on his shoulders. But in the royal palace, no one knows about the blood of the lamb. They are not aware of the sign that will save lives.

Once darkness falls, the Angel of Death travels through the land. He finds every Israelite house marked with the blood of the lamb--and passes over.

But the Egyptian homes that do not display this sign are visited with tragedy





after tragedy.

Especially the palace.

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Rameses' son is asleep, his beloved toy chariot resting on his chest. A gust of wind blows the curtains open, and a faint red mist enters the room. Lit torches burn by the doorway, for the child is afraid of the dark. But as the red mist makes its presence known, those torches go out. The room is

completely dark and silent, save for the breathing of Rameses' precious son.

The breathing stops.

The toy chariot topples to the ground.

Blood trickles from the nose and mouth of Rameses' son.

Vengeance doesn't take long. The morning sun is a low red ball on the horizon as half a dozen soldiers, led by a captain of the imperial guard, drag Aaron and Moses from their beds. The soldiers have not been trained to be delicate, and they seethe with rage at the terrible news that is traveling throughout the land. Many of them woke to find their oldest sons dead. And among the phalanx of soldiers, there are many missing--grown men killed by the Angel of Death.

Every firstborn son in Egypt is gone. Every last one. All of the grief is expressed in manhandling Moses and Aaron.

"Leave them be," screams Miriam. "They've done nothing!"

But her words fall on deaf ears, and soon Aaron and Moses are being led through the towering palace doors. Soldiers shove them into the center of a dark, pillared room, and then force them to their knees. Moses and Aaron press their faces to the floor, knowing that to look up at Pharaoh right now would be a grave error.

Then they hear Rameses' voice. The sound of grief is unmistakable. "Why?"

he cries. "Why should lowly Israelite slaves have life... when my son is dead?"



The captain of the guards grabs Moses and Aaron by the hair and lifts their heads. Rameses is walking toward them, the limp and lifeless body of his son draped across his arms. "Is your God satisfied now?"

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Moses and Aaron say nothing.

"I asked you a question."

Moses says nothing. He takes no joy in the death of a child. He only looks at Rameses with sadness, as if to remind him that all of this could have been prevented. If Rameses had only listened.

Rameses lays his son on the floor. "Take your people and your flocks and go! Leave my land. And take your wretched God with you!"

Moses and Aaron say nothing, eager to get out of the throne room as fast as possible. "Thank God," Aaron whispers once they are finally out of the throne room.

"Yes," Moses replies. "We must."

It is time to leave captivity and travel to the Promised Land. Three million Hebrew men, women, and children are in captivity. The Egyptian people are so eager to see them leave immediately that they freely give gifts of silver, gold, and cloth to encourage them to be on their way. Everywhere in the Israelite settlement, carts are being loaded. People are packing their life's possessions onto donkeys.

Amid the preparations for departure, people can't help but celebrate. The Hebrews seem to have permanent smiles on their faces, and they

spontaneously sing and chant songs of joy. When it comes time to depart, Moses is carried through the city streets on the shoulders of men who were once wary of his presence. The impossible promise Moses made is coming true.

"Put me down!" Moses tells the group of men carrying him through a packed street. Children are running and jumping to get a better view of their new hero.

Aaron is one of the men carrying Moses. "No, brother. We won't put you



down yet--we're carrying you all the way to the Promised Land."

It all seems so simple to the Hebrews: they are leaving a land that has held them hostage for centuries and heading toward a new home where milk and honey are theirs for the taking. God has appeared to Moses

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and told him the specific route he must follow to reach this Promised Land.

Only Moses, the most unlikely believer among them--raised as an Egyptian, exiled into the desert for decades, and only late in life finding a relationship with God--sees the broader importance of their journey: the Hebrews are fulfilling Abraham's covenant with God. "We are going to live in the Promised Land," he marvels, "with descendants as numerous as stars...."

As the Israelites travel east out of Egypt, Rameses is having second thoughts. He stands in his throne room, where his son's body lies in state.

Incense burns from ornate bowls. A cotton sheet covers the child's torso.

"My son," says a grief-stricken Rameses, placing a hand gently on the boy's forehead. He can't help but notice that the body is cold to the touch, and that the skin, which had been deeply tanned from hours playing in the hot Egyptian sun, is now ghostly pale. "How could slaves do this?" Rameses mumbles, his broken heart hardening into resolve. He takes his son's dead hand in his own, and crouches down. "I vow to you," he promises his son,

"here and now, that I will bring the Israelites back and make them build you the greatest tomb the world has ever known." The toy chariot has been placed next to the boy, so that once he is mummified the toy will travel with him into the afterlife. "And I also vow that the body of Moses will be buried beneath that tomb's foundation, crushed through all eternity by the weight of your death."

Rameses pivots to his left, to where the captain of the guard stands watching along the wall. "We will bring them back," Rameses orders. "I will lead the way, Commander. The Hebrews want freedom? They're free to choose: crawl back to me as slaves--or die."

Pharaoh takes one last loving look at his son. What a beautiful boy. His heart fills with rage at losing the life that could have been.





"Get my chariot!" he roars. "We leave immediately."

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The line of Hebrews refugees extends to the horizon. Theirs is not an orderly exodus. The sound of bleating sheep commingles with complaints about blisters, sunburn, and thirst. Moses leads the way, deep in thought, as always. Miriam, Aaron, and Joshua follow close behind.

"I still can't believe Pharaoh just let us leave," Joshua wonders aloud.

"But he did," Aaron says proudly.

"You're right: it's what God demanded. Only a madman would defy God one more time after what He just did."

Moses doesn't join the conversation. He feels a deep responsibility for the safety of the entire group, and he will be more than happy to finally kick the dust of Egypt off his sandals. But he knows Rameses all too well, and he is quite aware that the Hebrews will never be completely safe from his wrath until they are safely beyond his borders.

He groans out loud as he walks up and over a large sandy ridge and looks below to a vast sea, spreading across the land in all directions. He cannot see the other side. More important, he cannot see a way to get across.

Aaron sees it next. "Brother, what now?"

Moses stares at the sea in disbelief. How could this be? How could God lead them to the Promised Land yet throw a roadblock like this in their path?

"God will provide a way," Moses insists.

Ira the elder arrives, looking agitated and doubtful, as always. "Moses," he says, as if talking to a child. "Why have you brought us here? This is insane."

"God has brought us here."

"And what does God say about getting to the other side?"

The Hebrews reached the Red Sea after a week's journey. To be truly out of Egypt, and free from the Pharaoh's power, they must cross to the far shore, a distance of many miles. They have no boats or other watercraft.

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Finding the wood to build enough boats to ferry millions of people to the other side is an insurmountable logistical challenge. Swimming is out of the question. There is always the choice of walking several hundred miles north to the mouth of the sea, but the way is mountainous and the rugged journey would take weeks, perhaps months. Small children and the elderly would be pushed to their mental, physical, and emotional limits each and every day.

Bandits are known to hide in the mountains, and this long caravan of travelers would be plundered easily and often. But most of all, should Pharaoh change his mind and wish to enslave the Hebrews once again--a fear foremost on everyone's mind--the northward path would make it easy for Rameses to catch them. They don't know that this has already come to pass.

The Hebrew dilemma comes down to one simple choice: trust in God. There is no other option. But trusting God requires courage. For there is clearly no possible way that the Hebrews can get from one side of the Red Sea to other. For if God is to rescue the Hebrews it will take the sort of impossible miracle of which only He is capable. The freed slaves make camp and wait on God, lulled to sleep each night by the small waves lapping the seashore.

Trouble is fast approaching from the west. Horses' hooves pound the desert floor. Charioteers scream at their mounts, flicking their whips to coax an extra burst of speed. Rameses is expert in the chariot, and he rides tall and true, his face impassive. He wants his slaves back. Neither Moses nor his god can stand in his way.

The chariots and the lines of soldiers following close behind kick up considerable dust--so much that their progress can be followed from miles away. A small band of Hebrew men, including Joshua, stand on an

oceanfront ridge, horrified at the sight of Pharaoh's approaching army. As the reality of their predicament sinks in, he runs to find Moses.

"Horses!" Joshua screams as he sprints into the encampment. "Chariots!"

"Fool! Now what do we do?" torments the always irritating Ira, who still chafes at the leadership he believes he has lost since Moses arrived.

Joshua surveys the terrified crowd before him, and sees with sadness the faces of the women and children who will surely die. "We fight," he barks.



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"Against Pharaoh?" scoffs Ira. "With what?"

"With our bare hands, if we have to," replies Joshua.

The Hebrews panic. They begin packing their belongings as quickly as they can.

Moses looks at them in dismay. What is the use of packing if there is nowhere to go?

An exasperated Aaron comes to Moses' side. "This is hopeless, brother.

What do we do?"

Moses is deeply disappointed in his brother's lack of faith. He looks Aaron in the eyes, then turns and walks toward the water's edge.

Ira chases after him. "Was it because there were not graves in Egypt that you brought us here to die? Because that's what you've done."

"Do not be afraid," Moses commands.

Ira looks bemused and frustrated as Moses plants his feet in the sand, and sinks his staff into the ground. The surf washes over his feet. Moses clenches his gnarled old wooden staff tightly, then closes his eyes and lowers his head until it comes to rest on the staff. His breathing deepens.

Moses shuts out the chaos and panic surrounding him. He hears nothing.

The world around him slows.

Moses prays. "God, we need You now. Your people need You."

Above and behind him, Pharaoh's chariots arrive on the ridge. Rameses'

face lights up with anticipated revenge as he looks down and sees the trapped, terrified, huddled masses. "We have them," he exults. "They're trapped." Rameses looks to his left and to his right. As far as he can see in either direction, an Egyptian charioteer awaits his signal to charge. Their horses paw at the ground in anticipation. Below them, certain that their fate is in Pharaoh's hands, are the terrified Hebrews. Pharaoh utters one word:

"Charge."

Moses continues to pray, eyes closed, the thunder of hooves not intruding on his conversation with his Maker. He remembers the moment when God appeared to him and told him the specific route he must follow

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to the Promised Land. Moses knows that he has done just as God

commanded, so even as he prays, his faith is strong that God will find a way to deliver the Hebrews from this coming evil.

The sky is growing black, and a hard wind whips at his robe, sends his long hair flailing about his shoulders. "Lord, I know You have a plan for us. And I believe in Your plan. And I believe that this is not the end You planned for us."

The strong wind whips up clouds of sand. Shelters are blown away, and children cry. Aaron gathers Miriam and her children.

But Moses sees none of it. His faith is in God, and he continues to pray. "We have watched You bring terror on our enemies..."

Ira crouches in the sand, rocking back and forth in despair.

The long line of chariots races down the road to the beach.

Moses' hand grips his staff ever tighter. "You kept death from our doors..."

Joshua stands defiantly, glaring at the coming Egyptians, ready to fight.

Then Moses' eyes suddenly open as God speaks back to him. "Lord!" Moses says in shock.

The wind is now almost at hurricane strength. A funnel cloud touches down on the sea before Moses, hitting the water and then exploding back up into the sky. The shock wave flattens the Hebrews, and they stumble around on hands and knees, disoriented and momentarily unable to hear.

Only Moses is left standing upright, not letting go of his staff as he raises his face to the heavens.

Before him, the sea rises to the sky, a great wall of water stretching from the earth to the clouds. All around him, the Israelites shield their eyes from the mist and spray, stunned at the vast wall of water climbing higher and higher right before their very eyes.





And then the water parts in two, forming a great canyon. The sea floor is completely exposed, with water on either side. The wind rages through that gap.

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Moses knows precisely what to do next. "Follow me," he cries, thrusting his staff into the sky. "This is God's work."

Aaron leaps to his feet and organizes the Israelites, hurrying them into the divide in the seas. They scramble toward the entrance, so eager to be safe from Pharaoh that many leave all their valuables behind. As they step inside, faces glance up in awe at the vast mountains of water. Ahead, there is darkness, and Joshua quickly orders the people to light torches. Moses leads the way, in silt and mud up to his ankles. Water from the parted sea drips in the smallest of droplets onto his head. The way is misty, loud, and dark, yet Moses presses on.

"Come on," Aaron encourages the Israelites. "Come quickly."

Joshua joins in, when he sees that the people are terrified of taking that first step of faith into the parted sea. "It's safe. Have faith," he cries.

Yet Ira sputters, "Are you crazy? We're all going to drown!"

"Better to drown than to be a slave of Pharaoh," Joshua replies. "Come on, old man. Let's go."

The Hebrews have all fled into the tunnel of water. Rameses races his chariot through their abandoned belongings, feeling invincible. But he slows as he approaches the sea. All around him, his men gaze up in shock at the terrifying sight. They stop, afraid to go on. But just as Moses stayed strong when the Hebrews showed nothing but fear, Rameses ignores the lack of courage from his soldiers. He steels himself, knowing that they are watching him, and will take inspiration from his action. "After them," he cries, holding back on his horse's reins as his army charges forward. "Bring me Moses!"

Inside the tunnel of water, Miriam and Aaron are helping families with small children. "Keep going--that's it," Miriam exclaims.

"This way. Follow Moses," encourages Aaron.

Up ahead in the darkness, Moses trudges forward. His pace is measured, 81

and his staff picks through the sediment to keep his footing sure. Behind him, the Israelites scramble along the seabed; their way is now miraculously dry, thanks to a path of smooth, dry stones. They shout at their pack animals and strain to move the heavy wheels of their handcarts.

Back on shore, some of the Egyptian horses balk at entering the watery tunnel. The Egyptian commanders orders their men to dismount and grab their weapons. God has not made their path dry. They stumble into the great chasm, their eyes adjusting to the darkness, even as they stumble over the rocky slime in their search for the Hebrews.

Moses trudges over sand and rocks. Ahead, he can see something new and quite miraculous: the sun. It is merely a faint disk right now, burning through the wall of mist. But the mist soon begins to part, and the sun burns brighter and brighter.

Joshua breaks ranks and charges toward it, a broad smile spreading across his face. "We're almost there! Come on!" he yells.

Lit by the sun, Joshua charges forward. Others soon follow, their peals of laughter echoing up and down the canyon. The wind still howls. Mist sprays their faces. But the fury is not as intense right now, and against all odds, it looks like the Israelites may succeed in crossing the Red Sea--on foot.

The light increases as the ground becomes total desert again. In ones and twos the Israelites finally step onto the sand of safety. Then by tens and twenties. And then by the hundreds and thousands. Moses is the very last man in the tunnel as the last wave of Israelites reaches the beach, keeping his pace even and calm. Then he, too, steps into the sunshine. He is greeted by the sight of hundreds of thousands of rejoicing men, women, and children, amazed by the fantastic journey they just took.

Now Moses turns around and faces the sea once more. Yet again he raises his staff to the sky. In the depths of the tunnel, he sees Pharaoh's army rushing forward.

The darkness is intense, but there is light on the faces of the Egyptians.



Then they feel another sensation: raindrops. But this is not rain.

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The Egyptians glance up to the sky, just in time to see the great walls of water collapsing down onto them.

From shore, the Israelites stand in stunned silence as they watch the ocean descend from the sky and drown Pharaoh's army. A great whoosh of wind is shoved from the chasm as it closes shut, but then the seas and the skies are calm. A moment of sad realization passes, as the Hebrews realize that so many men are now dying. But this is followed immediately by the natural joyfulness of freedom, and the end of slavery for the Hebrews.

"Thank you, Lord," shouts Joshua. "We are free at last."

Moses takes it all in, then speaks quietly to the waves. "You are not a god, Pharaoh. There is only one God, and He is here, with us."

As if he can hear Moses, Pharaoh watches the devastation from the far bank of the sea. He is surrounded by the belongings of the Hebrews and those horses too reluctant to gallop into the tunnel--just as he himself was reluctant, despite his show of bravado. He can say nothing, for there is nothing to say. Pharaoh has lost. He lets out a great sigh of horror and disbelief.

"Come," Moses tells the jubilant Israelites. "There is a long road ahead. We must be strong." Their faith in God is strong, and they will follow Moses anywhere God tells him to go. Thus begins forty years of wandering for the Israelite people, always in search of that elusive Promised Land that God promised to give Abraham and his people. The parting of the Red Sea and the escape from slavery marks a new beginning.

God does more than lead them through the great desert wilderness; He gives Moses a set of rules to govern their lives. God's gift of freedom for the Hebrews is being amplified. Moses returns alone to Mount Sinai, where he once tended his flock and saw the burning bush. Here he receives the Ten Commandments, a moral code written in stone. God has passed down

hundreds of laws for His followers to heed, but these

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ten are the most crucial. They provide a road map for health, happiness, and contentment.

Moses descends Mount Sinai, carrying two stone tablets listing these ten all-important commandments, and is greeted by Joshua. These will be placed inside the Ark of the Covenant--the sacred vessel built from specifications handed down from God, and carried with them as their most holy

possession. "God has renewed the promise He made to Abraham," Moses says, brimming with a faith greater than ever before. "We must worship no other God... no more lying... stealing... cheating... no more murder or dishonor.... If we are true to God, He will keep His promise."

"Abraham's dream. That is our future?" asks Joshua.

" You are the Israelites' future now, Joshua. Don't look back. You must take the land promised to Abraham. And to all his descendants--as numerous as the stars."

Moses' face is radiant as he speaks, because God appeared to him in all His glory during the presentation of the Ten Commandments. This was God's way of showing that He was pleased with Moses and what he had done for God's people.

God never allowed Moses to enter the Promised Land. His good and faithful servant only saw it, in all its glory, from the top of Mount Nebo, on his 120th birthday. Then Moses died. God buried him in an unknown grave, as the Israelites crossed into the Promised Land in fulfillment of His covenant with Abraham.

Joshua, Moses' handpicked successor, leads the Hebrews, now that they have finally reached the Promised Land. But this is not the end of their struggles. It is just the beginning.

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