“Trust me, you’re just imagining that,” said Zeforah. “Because what I’m really doing is stopping children from hitting each other and trying to keep Gershom and Eliezer working on their reading and—but here’s the funny thing—I feel like I have you there with me. As if everything I say to them, I’m storing up to show it to you later. To say, Moses, you should have heard what Gershom said, or Eliezer, or any of the others, what a man he’s becoming, what a woman she’ll be. It’s all done for your eyes. Or no, not really, it’s all done as if you were there watching, that’s the truth. Because we are together, aren’t we?”

  “We became one person together, there in the hills, watching the sheep,” said Moses. “When I stood before Pharaoh, he told me once that he knew everything I knew because I had taught him, and I wanted to tell him that he had no idea who I was, because I wasn’t the same person he knew. And do you know what the difference is? You. Because you were there, inside my mind, inside my heart. You were my teacher. I prayed as you taught me to pray. I learned about God with you at my side, guiding me. I learned about life because you loved me and gave me these children. So the man Pharaoh was looking at—he couldn’t possibly see me or understand anything about me because he didn’t know you.”

  She held him tightly then. “Is that true? I want it to be true of you, because it’s how I feel.”

  “God knows it’s true,” said Moses. “When God wanted to make me into a prophet, he took me out of Egypt and put me in your hands.”

  “In my heart.”

  They clung to each other there among the tents of Israel. Then they went back to their tent, back to their children, and gratefully slept the few hours they had for sleeping before dawn.

  * * *

  The line of people waiting for judgment was already long when Moses got to his judgment seat soon after sunrise. His heart sank when he saw them. Didn’t anybody learn from what the previous decisions had been? Of course not. Everybody was absorbed in his own life and had no idea what other decisions were needed. What Moses should be doing was copying out the scriptures for other people to read, so they could learn God’s teachings for themselves. Or teaching people directly. Or writing down the story of the Lord’s dealings with Israel during his own life. But instead his life was consumed by the need of the people for judgment. He kept thinking that soon things would calm down, that he’d have more time. But he could see no end to it, and he was close to despair.

  Of course, he knew that at any time he could send people away and tell them to come back tomorrow. That was what Pharaoh did, hearing only a few cases that were most interesting. But Pharaoh had other institutions to depend on. The priests handled much of what the people needed—but who were the priests in Israel? That’s what he needed, a priesthood to teach the people. He’d have to ask the Lord if he could have priests, the way Jethro had ordained him. Then he’d ask the Lord for a couple of spare years in which to train them as Moses had been trained. . . .

  No, he was dreaming. There was nothing he could do. The whole burden fell on him, and he couldn’t get it off his shoulders long enough to even think about training somebody else to help him.

  “Moses!”

  The voice sounded angry. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time some angry petitioner had tried to cut ahead of his place in line.

  “Moses, you’re going to talk to me right now!”

  He knew that voice. He looked up to see Jethro pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring complaints and curses from the people in line.

  On impulse, Moses rose to his feet. “It’s my father-in-law,” he said with a sheepish smile to the people whose stories he had been listening to. “You know how it is. I’ll just be a minute.” And without waiting for the people to protest that he could certainly finish their case first, Moses bounded from the judgment seat to meet Jethro, take him by the shoulder, and let the old man’s momentum carry them both away from the crowd and into Moses’ tent.

  “What are you doing, Moses? Don’t you love these people?”

  “I’m doing my best, that’s what I’m doing.”

  “No you’re not. You’re doing your worst. Wearing yourself out!”

  “I can’t help it that there are so many people here.”

  “Right, and you think they’re grateful for your hours of service? At the back of the line there’s nothing but complaint about how long everything takes and did you bring them out into the desert so they could die in line?”

  “We try to keep things moving smoothly and they don’t have to wait, we take names and—”

  “Foolishness. The problem isn’t the process here. The problem is you.”

  “I can’t do justice if I don’t hear the case.”

  “No, you can’t do justice at all because there’s no possibility of this ever ending and you’re going to die of exhaustion and then what will happen to my neglected daughter and her neglected children? You see! I put a lot of effort into raising Zeforah and you’re going to waste all that by dying and leaving her a widow thrown back on my resources.”

  “You didn’t have to put any effort into raising Zeforah. She mostly raised herself.”

  Jethro paused and thought about that. “Well, that’s true. So I’m back to my claim that you’re not serving Israel well. You need to set up other judges to hear the lesser cases. Aren’t there elders in every tribe? Let them do the judging and then you hear only the hard cases. For an hour or two a day.”

  “Well of course I want to do that, Jethro. But when will I train them? When will I teach them the scriptures?”

  “Oh, I see. You’re doing such a good job of that now.”

  “I invited them all to watch me giving judgment so they could learn.”

  Jethro rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they all sit there avidly, listening to every word.”

  “Nobody has lasted more than half an hour, except Aaron, and his patience seems infinite. And Hur, but he’s not listening, he’s managing the line.”

  “Good. Those are your first two choices as judge. In fact, they should stand beside you as general judges of Israel, so they only hear appeals, too.”

  “You still haven’t solved my problem of how to teach them when I don’t have time to breathe!”

  Jethro laughed incredulously. “This is why I say you’re the problem. First, do you think you’re the only man with a sense of fair play and decency? And isn’t that what you rely on in most of your judgments?”

  “No, I base my decisions on the scriptures.”

  “You base your explanations on the scriptures, but you make your decision first. That’s how you decide which stories from the scriptures to tell to buttress your case.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Call men to serve as judges, get them busy so they take this load off your shoulders. Each one of them will have only a small fraction of this burden, and so they’ll have time enough during each day for you to gather the judges and teach them. And since they’ll actually be judging people, they’ll have questions for you. They’ll have experience. They’ll even suggest things that you never thought of and you’ll learn.”

  “It sounds wonderful, but I don’t know these men well enough.”

  “One man never knows another man completely anyway. If you want advice, doesn’t your brother Aaron know them all? That’s the impression I get. And besides, it doesn’t have to be up to you. Ask the Lord! Suggest the people you want to have as judges, and let the Lord tell you what he thinks!”

  “I thought if he wanted me to have help in the judging he would have—”

  “He would have wanted you to think for yourself. Moses, I think you’re a wonderful boy, but didn’t Hatshepsut teach you anything about good government?”

  “She taught me to rely on highly trained people to share the burden of—”

  “Exactly! That’s what she did! And what good was all their high training? Where were they when Tuthmose came to kill her?”

  “What’s your point here, Jethro?”

  “My point is that training is no substitute for faithfulness, and training can come while doing. You weren’t ready to be a prophet either, when the Lord called you. But you trusted in him to give you what you lacked, because Israel needed you to have it. Do you think that process was only for you? The Lord will do that over and over again. He’ll help you choose the men to do the job, and he’ll also help them do it, if they ask him.”

  Moses was about to offer another argument, when he stopped himself and laughed wryly. “You know what I was doing? I was explaining why I was the only one fit to do the job.”

  “Yes, I knew that was what you were doing.”

  “And yet when I was thinking of praying for help, what idea popped into my mind? Priests! I needed a priesthood to help me.”

  “There you have it. But don’t wait until you have people willing to devote their lives to the priesthood. Appoint judges now, and make them priests later. Tell me you agree.”

  “I do agree, now that you’ve helped me see it.”

  “Good. Then it was a good thing I came here.”

  “Stay, then! Be the first of my judges! Train the men who will be my priests!”

  “I trained you. That was hard enough. And if you need my advice, ask your wife. She knows everything I ever knew, and a lot more besides.”

  “It would be nice to have time to talk with her.”

  “Well then. It’s decided. Now go out there and tell the people you’re through with judgment for the day.”

  “They’ll be angry!”

  “So let them go find another camp with the pillar of the Lord’s presence and manna on the ground every morning!”

  Moses laughed. “Everything seems so clear when you explain it, and so muddy when I try to see it myself.”

  “That’s what old people are for! We speak our minds! Besides, the spirit of God tells you that what I’m saying is true—that’s why it seems so clear. Now I’m going to go take a nap while you send that lovely line of people home.”

  Jethro strode out of the tent and Moses came out at a more thoughtful pace right after him. From the shocked looks on the faces of people nearby, he realized that they had heard every word of the conversation—not surprising, since Jethro’s voice could carry across a valley. The more they heard, the better they’d understand that this wasn’t his idea.

  Moses stood in front of his judgment seat and addressed the crowd. “I will hear no more cases today.”

  A moan of disapproval and disappointment rose from the crowd.

  “From now on, the first thing you do is try to settle your problems peacefully between each other. And I mean try. If you can’t bring witnesses who can prove that you have tried to reconcile the case, it won’t get heard. Second, I’m going to appoint judges in every tribe. If you don’t like their decision, the council of elders in that tribe will decide whether you should have the right to appeal to me. And then, the Lord has given me two trusted counselors who will hear cases at least as often as I do—Aaron and Hur. If they are your judge, it has the same force as if I were giving judgment.” Moses looked at Aaron and Hur. “I hope neither one of you is going to argue with me about it?”

  “I don’t have your knowledge of the scriptures,” said Hur.

  “Then you’ll enjoy coming to the school I’m starting. A school for priests and judges.” He raised his voice again to the whole group. “Go home now! If your matter really is important, you’ll remember it in a few days!”

  Without waiting for questions or arguments, Moses walked away from the judgment seat, saying as he went, “Aaron, Hur, come help me choose the first of the judges in each of the tribes.”

  By the next day at noon, messengers were going to every tribe and elders were being called in to receive their appointment from Moses. By the day after, there were at least two judges in every tribe, and Moses was teaching for hours a day.

  He also got home just at sundown and spent the evening talking and playing with his children, and after they went to bed, he and Zeforah talked and talked into the night.

  “I knew what to do,” said Moses. “Why couldn’t I do it?”

  “Maybe you needed permission from someone else,” said Zeforah. “Or maybe you couldn’t bear to let go of the responsibility for fear the people would stop needing you.”

  “And yet I know perfectly well that the most important work ahead of me is to get Israel to a point where I’m not needed. Where everyone is hearing the word of the Lord in their own hearts, and obeying God out of pure love for him and all his works.”

  “Do you think you can accomplish that?”

  “Before I die, I swear I will.”

  “Good. Then you’ll live forever.” She laughed and kissed him.

  He kissed her back, but he didn’t laugh. The people had seen God’s power so clearly—how could she doubt that they were ready to become the Lord’s people in fact as well as name?

  Chapter 13: Covenants

  When the camp of Israel formed at the base of Mount Sinai, the pillar of cloud grew to envelop the entire mountain. This was the place to which God had brought his people, the goal of the journey.

  On the day they arrived, Moses returned from the cloud with a simple message from the Lord:

  “You have seen what he did to the Egyptians for your sake, and how he bore you on eagles’ wings, and brought you to him. Now, Israel, if you will obey his voice and keep his covenant, you shall be his own dear treasure, beloved above all other people, and you will serve the whole of God’s earth as a kingdom of priests, as a holy nation.”

  Led by the judges of every tribe, the people answered: “All that the Lord has asked, we will do.”

  At the Lord’s command, Moses told the people to wash themselves and their clothes, to make themselves clean and holy, ready to receive the Lord on the third day. Strict bounds were set about the mountain, so no one would stray inadvertently too close to the presence of the Lord.

  At the beginning of the third day, thunder and lightning came from the cloud, and the clear sound of a trumpet, and the people trembled at the coming of the Lord. Moses led the people out of the camp, and brought them up to the boundary marked for them, as the cloud roiled down the mountain and stood before them. The trumpet sounded longer and louder. Moses cried out to the Lord within the hearing of the people, and then in answer they all heard the voice of the Lord:

  “Moses, come to me at the top of the mountain.”

  Alone Moses walked into the cloud, and the people waited. When he returned, a few hours later, he reminded them again to respect the boundary, for the danger to mortal bodies unpurified by God was great. Then he stretched forth his hand to Aaron. “Come with me, my brother,” he said. “The Lord wants you with me to receive his law.”

  So Aaron walked with Moses into the bright thundering cloud of the presence of the Lord.

  When they returned that night, they taught together the law that the Lord had given them, repeating God’s words to the people. “I am the Lord your God who brought you out,” said Moses. “You shall have no other God to set against me. You shall not carve images or bow down to any God but me, for I will hate whoever hates me, and the sons of his sons. But I will love whoever loves the Lord.”

  “Once you take the name of the Lord upon you,” said Aaron, “you shall be bound by it, and your oath shall not be in vain.”

  “Remember the Sabbath day,” said Moses, “to keep it holy.”

  “Honor your father and mother,” said Aaron, “that you may live forever in the land that I will give you.”

  “You shall not kill, or commit adultery.”

  “You shall not steal, or witness to a lie.”

  “You shall not covet what your neighbor has.”

  As they spoke, the thunder and lightning behind them punctuated their words, affirming to the people that it was the Lord’s words they were repeating. The people became afraid, for they knew that they had already sinned against some of these commandments, and they begged Moses and Aaron: Let us hear your words, gladly, but don’t let the voice of the Lord come to us, or we’ll die.

  So Moses and Aaron continued to teach them, elaborating upon the law. The old desert law of vengeance was swept away. Where once a man would answer a word with a blow, a blow with a wound, a wound with a murder, and murder with two or three or five murders in the family of the wrongdoer, now the Lord set strict bounds. Vengeance would come, not from the individual or his family, but from the law and the community as a whole, and it would not be heavier than the offense, but would be exactly proportionate. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and nothing more. And the people recognized the mercy of the Lord, setting them free from the blood feud of anarchy on the one hand, and from the arbitrary rule of tyrants on the other. The law would be fixed and the judges would carry it out with the consent and help of the community, and neither ruler nor any individual would have the right to set it aside and exact more or less than justice. It would be the foundation of peace and freedom in Israel.

  They were also taught that they must share the bounty of the earth with the poor, and when lending to the poor they were not to profit from it, but to take their repayment without interest. And they were taught how to build their altars, and how to choose the animals they would offer as sacrifice.

  And if they made a covenant to obey these laws, and kept that covenant, the Lord would give them the land of Canaan from the Red Sea to the Sea of the Philistines, and from the desert to the river. They would be charged with the duty to drive out the inhabitants of the land—Amorites and Hittites, Perizzites and Canaanites, Hivites and Jebusites—for they had once known the name of God and rejected him, worshiping Baal and Astarte in their high places and their groves, and the land would no longer bear their abominations. The people of Israel must make no treaty with them or permit any of them to remain in the land, for if any of them remained it would be a constant temptation and snare to Israel.