A Song For The Exodus Part- I

     Of all the incredible scenes in the epic-animation film ‘The Prince of Egypt’ the most remarkable scene for me is not the parting of the sea but what happens immediately after. For a few seconds everyone including Moses is shown dumbfounded. No dialogues, just open mouths. No movements, just some heavy breathing. No awesome score by Hans Zimmer, just the sound of the wind. When mere humans stand witness to the hand of the Creator, all that they can do is just look. Scripture and liturgy use one word for such moments.

     

     Behold.

     

    “Behold the lamb of God…” the priest proclaims. A very apt use of the word which, when uttered during mass, demands that all eyes on heaven and earth turn toward the altar. Whether one realises it or not, those few seconds that you look at Him are no different from the moment when the sea stood still. Could all the visions of the old and the new testaments put together even compare to looking Christ in the eye?

     

     But alas! What happens after this brief encounter is not too dissimilar from the Exodus. We exit Mass as if nothing happened. The speed of the commute to heaven and back would put time-travel to shame.

     

     The plagues, the pillar of fire, the cloud and the manna the Hebrews beheld them all. All in astonishment I suppose. And yet even the most physical and tangible foot (and hand) prints of God failed to remove Egypt from memory. A fresh start did not rid them of the scars. The scars in fact became reminders of a suffering which, however horrible, was certain unlike the unknown Promised Land. The fabled promised land was so close and yet so distant. Four hundred years they prayed for it and no one had the faintest idea of what it looked like. For forty years they walked; walked and mumbled the scripture reminds making no subtle attempts to show who was at fault. They were having second thoughts. Suddenly slavery seemed like the best place to retire in.

     

     It seems like God has been economical with the superlative exhibitions of His power and emotions. It has been a while since a fire from heaven consumed an altar and a few heretics. The chariot of fire hasn’t been out for a ride. Whatever faith and fear these events could attract have been short lived and quickly forgotten. The sensory perceptions of life and the infected permanent tattoos they leave on the human heart cannot be dismissed forever. The Hebrew demands were fundamental. The chosen ones ‘kindled the wrath of God’ (to be read in a sarcastic tone) just for asking for food, water and home. (Having crossed the line just right there, I acknowledge the infinite wisdom of God the Father and the utter inadequacy of my argument before it).

     

     Apparently you pray twice when you sing. If a song contains words of dissatisfaction towards the means of God does it imply two times a complaint? Whatever the answer to this question maybe, a man lying in ashes feels at home singing about the consistency of the ashes rather than the ecstasy of a union with the Divine. A natural knee-jerk outburst of disgruntlement towards the excellently mediocre life that everyone has been bestowed with isn’t going to get you anywhere in the journey towards the Eternal Jerusalem. One is required to stuff his body, mind and soul into the few simple verses of any hymn of praise while still disgruntled to be awarded the go-ahead towards the finish of the good race.

     A holy middle ground is essential to bridge the scoffs of an earthly verse to the exaltation of a celestial chorus.

-Sam