This is the story Moses tells:
In a last ditch effort, he pleads with God
Let me into the Promised Land.
The response comes: Go tell it to the mountain,
Moses. You’ll get a lovely view, but that’s
as far as we’re taking this.
It’s a recent event, this conversation, but Moses
is a reminiscer. I can’t blame him. I get nostalgic
about things that haven’t happened yet.
Have I already told you that? That’s okay.
I don’t mean to make an excuse, but so much
of this book is telling what has already been told.
We’re only in chapter two and it feels like a
clip show. Are the writers on vacation?
I remember always feeling cheated when
a new episode came on and it was just the
regular players sitting on a couch flashing back
to footage I’d already seen. Does this really count?
Or do I need to hear this again? Do we all
need to hear this again. Remember what happened
with the idol? We have such a short memory.
And those with the shortest memories
aren’t here any more.
Listen Israel: God, who I’ve mentioned before
is your God. And you can count the number of
Gods we have on one finger.
That’s the most important thing we have to say,
so it’s being said again. That’s the most important
thing we have to say, so here’s a list of instructions
about what to do with those words.
Got a door? Put it there. Got a forehead? Put it there.
Hands? You guessed it. Gates? That should go
without saying. Children? Right in their heads, please.
Write this down so you don’t forget it. Put it everywhere.
You won’t have Moses nagging you like a parent
for very much longer. He’s on his death speech.
Soon, he’ll only be talking to a mountain. Soon,
he’ll just be a rumor.
This is the generation who knew God’s presence.
Who were so scared of It they asked only Moses to
interact with It.
Now we only know stories of the mountain.
Of the man who died on the mountain.
Of a Presence we’ve been looking for