Judaism / The Man Who Never Saw the Land
Part Six: The Long Afterlife
Everyone's Moses
The man who never saw the land did not stay on the mountain. The portrait that was built in Babylon and carried by the exiles did not stay in the Torah. It spread. Every tradition that came after the Torah found in Moses what it needed, and the portrait grew with each generation. The story of Moses is the story of a man who belongs to everyone and to no one — a figure who has been claimed by every major religious tradition in the West, by every liberation movement that has used the Exodus as its master text, by every philosopher who has needed a lawgiver, by every psychoanalyst who has needed a father. This chapter traces the longest part of the portrait: the afterlife.
The chapter is the first of three in Part Six. Part Six is the long afterlife of Moses — the story of what happened to the portrait after the Torah was finished. Chapter 28 is the story of how the portrait was taken up by the major traditions. Chapter 29 is the story of how the Exodus story became the master text of liberation and how the same book was used for conquest. Chapter 30 is the return to the mountain, the ending earned. This chapter is the first of those three, and it is the chapter that asks: who has Moses been?
Philo's philosopher
Philo of Alexandria wrote in the first century CE, in Greek, in a city where Jewish community and Greek intellectual life met and sometimes conflicted. Philo was a man of the Jewish community in Alexandria who read the Torah through the resources of Greek philosophy, and who wanted to show that the Jewish scriptures were not a primitive account of a tribal god but a profound philosophical text that could stand with the best of Greek thought. Philo's Life of Moses is the first major philosophical reading of Moses, and it gives us the portrait of Moses as the philosopher-king, the man who ascended to the divine, who understood the logos, who was the model of the life of reason.
Philo's Moses is a man of extraordinary intellectual capacity. He is the man who received the law from God and understood it as the expression of the divine reason. He is the man who ascended the mountain and came back with the words that were the structure of a life of virtue. Philo reads the Exodus story as the story of the soul's ascent — the journey from the slavery of the passions to the freedom of the intellect, the crossing of the sea as the passage from the material to the spiritual, the wandering in the wilderness as the soul's education. The man who led the people out of Egypt is, for Philo, the man who leads the soul out of the Egypt of the body.
This is a radical reading, and it is a reading that does something important. It takes the story of Moses and makes it available to the Greek intellectual world, which had no interest in the particular history of Israel but had a great deal of interest in the story of a man who received the truth from God and lived by it. Philo's Moses is a bridge between the biblical tradition and the Greek philosophical tradition, and the bridge was used. TheStoics read Moses. The early Christian writers read Philo and read Moses through Philo. The portrait of Moses as the philosopher became part of the Western portrait, and it is still there — the Moses who is the man of the law and the man of the reason, the man who received the truth and lived by it.
The portrait is not the same as the portrait in the Torah. Philo's Moses does not stammer. Philo's Moses does not argue. Philo's Moses is the man of the logos, the man of the reason, the man who understood the truth. The stammer and the refusal and the temper are in the Torah, but Philo reads around them, because Philo is building a portrait for a purpose, and the purpose is to show that the Jewish law is the expression of the divine reason, and that Moses is the man who received it. The portrait of Moses as Philo built it is the portrait of a philosopher, and it is a portrait that the Western tradition kept.
The rabbis' teacher
The rabbis took Moses in a different direction. The rabbis did not need Moses to be a philosopher. The rabbis needed Moses to be the teacher, the man who received the law and transmitted it, the man who was the source of the tradition that the rabbis were interpreting. The rabbinic portrait of Moses is the portrait of the man who spoke with God face to face, who received the Torah and gave it to the people, who was the greatest of the prophets, and whose interpretation of the law was the foundation of the Jewish tradition.
The rabbis read the Torah and built around it a vast body of interpretation — the midrash, the commentary, the legal analysis — and in that interpretation Moses is everywhere. Moses is the man who received the law, and the rabbis are the men who interpret the law, and the line from Moses to the rabbis is the line that gives the rabbinic tradition its authority. Moses is the man who stood at the mountain and came back with the words, and the rabbis are the men who continue to hear the words and to argue over them. The portrait of Moses in the rabbinic tradition is the portrait of the teacher, the man who is the source of the tradition, and the portrait is a portrait of authority.
The rabbinic portrait also has its own particular features. The rabbis made much of the fact that Moses was the man who could speak with God face to face, and they built around that the idea of Moses as the man who had direct access to the divine, the man who was closer to God than any other prophet. The rabbis also made much of the humility of Moses — the man who was the meekest of all men, the man who did not seek the honour, the man who was the servant of the people. The portrait of Moses as the meekest of men is a rabbinic addition, and it is a portrait that softens the edges of the man in the Torah, who was not meek — he was the man who killed an overseer, who argued with God, who broke the tablets, who struck the rock. The rabbis kept the law and the prophecy and the leadership, but they softened the edges, and the portrait of Moses as the meek teacher is the portrait that the rabbinic tradition built.
The rabbinic portrait is the portrait that the Jewish tradition carried forward, and it is the portrait that is still there in the Jewish tradition today — the Moses who is the teacher, the lawgiver, the man who spoke with God face to face, the man who received the Torah and gave it to the people. The portrait is a portrait of authority, and it is a portrait that has served the Jewish tradition for two thousand years.
Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount
Jesus read Moses, and he read him as the lawgiver. The portrait of Moses in the New Testament is the portrait of the lawgiver who stands ahead of Jesus, and Jesus positions himself in relation to that portrait. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says: Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfil them. The statement places Jesus in the line of Moses — the man who received the law and delivered it, and the man whose fulfilment is the completion of what Moses began.
The Sermon on the Mount is the moment where the portrait of Moses is most vivid in the New Testament. Jesus goes up the mountain, and he sits down, and he teaches, and the people are astonished at his teaching, because he teaches as one who has authority, and not as the scribes. The structure of the scene is the structure of the scene at Sinai — the mountain, the sitting, the teaching, the authority. Jesus is the new Moses, the man who goes up the mountain and comes back with the words, and the words are the law that is the fulfilment of the law of Moses. The portrait of Moses in the New Testament is the portrait of the lawgiver who stands ahead of the fulfilment, and the fulfilment is Jesus.
The portrait is not the same as the portrait in the Torah. The Moses of the New Testament is the Moses of the law, the Moses who received the law and delivered it, and the law is the thing that Jesus fulfils. The stammer and the refusal and the temper are in the Torah, but the New Testament reads Moses as the lawgiver, and the lawgiver is the portrait that the New Testament keeps. The portrait of Moses as the lawgiver is the portrait that the Christian tradition carried forward, and it is the portrait that is still there in the Christian tradition today — the Moses who stands ahead of Jesus, the man who received the law and delivered it, and the law that Jesus fulfilled.
The portrait is also the portrait that was used by the early Christians to explain their relationship to the Jewish law. The early Christians were a group that had emerged from the Jewish community, and they had to explain what they had to do with the law of Moses. The answer was: Jesus fulfilled the law, and the law of Moses was the preparation for the fulfilment. The portrait of Moses as the lawgiver who stands ahead of the fulfilment was the portrait that the early Christians built, and it is the portrait that the Christian tradition kept.
Muhammad and the Qur'anic Musa
Muhammad read Moses, and he read him as the prophet. The Qur'an mentions Moses more than any other prophet, and the Musa cycle — the story of Moses in the Qur'an — is one of the most extensive narrative cycles in the Qur'an. The portrait of Moses in the Qur'an is the portrait of the prophet who stood against the pharaoh, who received the law from God, who led his people, who was the messenger of God to the children of Israel.
The Qur'anic Musa follows the biblical story in outline, but with significant theological differences. Musa is the prophet who receives the revelation from God, who stands against the pharaoh, who leads the people out of Egypt, who receives the Torah. The story is told in several surahs — Surah 7 (Al-A'raf), Surah 10 (Yunus), Surah 17 (Al-Isra), Surah 20 (Taha), Surah 28 (Al-Qasas) — and each telling adds something to the portrait. The portrait of Musa in the Qur'an is the portrait of the prophet who is the messenger of God, the man who received the word and delivered it, the man who stood against the pharaoh and won.
The portrait is important for Muhammad, because Muhammad is placing himself in the line of the prophets, and Moses is the great prophet who stands ahead of Muhammad. The portrait of Musa in the Qur'an is the portrait of the prophet who received the law and delivered it, and Muhammad is the prophet who received the Qur'an and delivered it. The line from Musa to Muhammad is the line of the prophets, and the portrait of Musa is the portrait of the prophet who stands in that line. The Qur'an reads the story of Moses as the story of the prophet who was sent to his people, and the story of Muhammad is the story of the prophet who was sent to his people, and the two stories are parallel — the man who received the word from God and delivered it to the people.
The portrait of Moses in the Qur'an is also the portrait of the man who was given the book — the Torah — and the book is the thing that the Qur'an confirms and corrects. The Qur'an says that the Torah was the revelation given to Moses, and that the Torah was the guidance for the children of Israel, and that the people corrupted the book, and that the Qur'an came to confirm the Torah and to correct the corruption. The portrait of Moses in the Qur'an is the portrait of the prophet who received the book, and the book is the thing that Muhammad confirms. The portrait of Musa as the prophet who received the book is the portrait that the Islamic tradition kept, and it is the portrait that is still there in the Islamic tradition today.
Freud's Egyptian
Sigmund Freud wrote Moses and Monotheism in 1939, in the last year of his life, and the book is one of the strangest things in the history of the portrait of Moses. Freud was a Jew who had fled Vienna for London, who had watched the rise of the Nazis, who had seen what the European tradition could do to the Jews, and who had spent his life studying the human mind. The book is partly psychoanalysis and partly a historical hypothesis, and it argues that Moses was an Egyptian, that he brought the monotheistic religion of Akhenaten to the people, that he was killed by the people he led, and that the memory of the killing was repressed and then returned in the form of the religion that Moses founded.
The book is reception history, and the book should say so plainly. Freud's hypothesis is not evidence, and the book does not treat it as evidence. But the book is part of the portrait, because it shows what happens when a great mind tries to solve the Moses problem. Freud's reading of Moses is a reading that takes the portrait in the Torah — the man who led the people, the man who gave them the law, the man who was killed — and tries to explain it as the story of a man who was an Egyptian, who brought a religion from Egypt, who was killed by the people, and whose memory was repressed and then returned. The hypothesis is bold, and it is wrong in most of its details, and it is also a reading that has influenced the way the portrait of Moses has been understood in the twentieth century.
The portrait of Moses as Freud's Egyptian is a portrait of a man who was an outsider, a man who brought a religion from outside the people, a man who was killed by the people he led. The portrait is the portrait of the founder who is rejected by his followers, and the rejection is the thing that makes the religion what it is. Freud's reading is a reading of the Moses story as the story of the founder who is killed by the people, and the killing is the thing that creates the neurosis of the religion, the thing that makes the religion what it is. The portrait is a portrait of the founder as the victim of his followers, and it is a portrait that the psychoanalytic tradition kept.
The portrait is also the portrait of a man who was read by a Jewish intellectual in the year before he died, who was trying to understand what Moses meant in the context of the catastrophe that had befallen the Jews, and who found in the story of Moses a way of thinking about the relationship between the founder and the people, between the leader and the followers, between the religion and the violence that founded it. The portrait of Moses as Freud's Egyptian is the portrait of the man who was read by Freud, and it is a portrait that the book should mention, because it is part of the afterlife of the portrait, and because it shows what the portrait can do — it can be read by a great mind in a moment of catastrophe, and it can produce a hypothesis that is wrong and important at the same time.
The man who belongs to everyone
The portrait of Moses is the portrait of a man who belongs to everyone and to no one. The portrait has been claimed by every major religious tradition in the West. The Jewish tradition claims Moses as the teacher and the lawgiver, the man who received the Torah and gave it to the people. The Christian tradition claims Moses as the lawgiver who stands ahead of Jesus, the man whose law was fulfilled by Jesus. The Islamic tradition claims Moses as the prophet who received the book, the man who stood against the pharaoh, the man who is the predecessor of Muhammad. The secular tradition — the philosophical tradition, the psychoanalytic tradition, the political tradition — has claimed Moses as the philosopher, the founder, the liberator, the man who brought the law, the man who brought the people out of Egypt.
The portrait that belongs to everyone is the portrait that is built from the Torah and from the readings that have grown around it. The portrait is the portrait of the man who led the people out of Egypt, who received the law, who spoke with God, who died in sight of the land he never entered. The portrait is the portrait that every tradition has taken and made its own, and the portrait is the portrait that has served every tradition for two thousand years. The portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a religion, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of several religions, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a political tradition, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a psychological tradition.
The portrait is also the portrait of a man who is not the same in each tradition. The Moses of the Torah is not the Moses of Philo, and the Moses of the rabbis is not the Moses of Jesus, and the Moses of the Qur'an is not the Moses of Freud. The portrait is the portrait of a man who is different in each tradition, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the same across the traditions — the man who received the word from God and delivered it, the man who led the people out of Egypt, the man who died in sight of the land. The portrait is the portrait of a man who is many men, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is one man — the man who never saw the land.
The portrait and the question of truth
The spread of the portrait across the traditions raises the question that the book has been circling all along: what is the truth of the portrait? The book has argued that the portrait is a composite, built by many hands over many centuries, and that the core of the portrait might be memory — the specific, unflattering details that look like they were not invented. The book has argued that the portrait was assembled in Babylon, and that the assembly was a response to the exile, and that the portrait was made by people who had lost the land and needed a story that would carry them.
The spread of the portrait across the traditions is the next stage of the same process. The portrait was built by the biblical editors, and then by the rabbis, and then by Philo, and then by the early Christians, and then by Muhammad, and then by Freud. Each generation built on the portrait, and each generation found in the portrait what it needed. The portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a religion, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of several religions, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a political tradition, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who is the founder of a psychological tradition.
The truth of the portrait is not the truth of a historical man. The truth of the portrait is the truth of a story that was built by many hands, and that was used by many generations, and that served many purposes. The portrait is the portrait of a man who was built by the needs of the community in exile, and then by the needs of the rabbis, and then by the needs of the philosophers, and then by the needs of the Christians, and then by the needs of the Muslims, and then by the needs of the psychoanalysts. The portrait is the portrait of a man who was built by the needs of the generations, and the portrait is the portrait of a man who was built well enough to last.
The truth of the portrait is the truth of the story, and the story is the story of a man who led his people out of Egypt, who received the law, who spoke with God, who died in sight of the land. The story is the story that the generations built, and the story is the story that the generations used, and the story is the story that has lasted. The truth of the portrait is the truth of the story, and the story is the story that has outlasted the empires that tried to bury it.
Let My People Go
The cry let my people go is one of the oldest sentences in the story of liberation. It is the sentence that Moses and Aaron carry to the pharaoh. It is the sentence that the enslaved in America sang in the spirituals. It is the sentence that Harriet Tubman heard in her head when she went back into the South to lead others out. It is the sentence that Martin Luther King Jr. ended his last speech with, on the mountaintop in Memphis, four nights before he was killed. Let my people go is a sentence that has been spoken in many languages, by many people, in many centuries. It is also a sentence that has been used for conquest. The same book that gave the enslaved their master text gave the settlers their master text. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly.
This chapter is the second of three in Part Six, and it is the chapter that asks the hardest question the book has to ask: what has the Exodus story done, and who has it served, and what has it cost?
The spirituals
The Exodus story entered American life through the spirituals, the songs that enslaved Africans sang in the fields and the huts and the quarters, and the songs that carried the story of the Exodus into the heart of the slavery system that was supposed to silence it. The spirituals are the moment where the story of Moses becomes, for the first time in the Western tradition, the story of a people who are actually enslaved, and the story of Moses is no longer the story of a man who led a people out of Egypt in the distant past. It is the story of a people who are in Egypt now, and who are singing for the day when they will go.
The spirituals are not a simple retelling of the Exodus. They are a retelling that changes the names and the details and keeps the structure. The Israelites are the enslaved. The pharaoh is the master. The Exodus is the escape. The promised land is the North, or Canada, or freedom, or death — the land that the enslaved have not seen. The songs are the songs of a people who are in the story and who are using the story to carry themselves through it.
The song Go Down, Moses is the best known of these, and it is the song that makes the point most directly. Go down, Moses, Way down in Egypt land. Tell old Pharaoh, Let my people go. The song identifies the singer with Moses, or with the Moses who is coming down to lead the people out. The song is the song of a people who are already in the story and who are calling on the story to act. The song is the song of a people who are using the Exodus as a portable identity, and the portability is the point — the same portability that the exiles in Babylon found in the Torah, and the same portability that the book has been tracing all along.
The spirituals are the moment where the Exodus story becomes the master text of liberation, and the moment where the story does what the story was made to do — carries a people through a situation where they have lost everything else. The story of Moses is the story of a people who are in Egypt and who are singing for the day when they will go, and the story is the thing that carries them. The spirituals are the proof of the portability, and the proof is in the singing.
Harriet Tubman
Harriet Tubman was called Moses in her lifetime, and the name was not a joke. Tubman escaped from slavery in 1849, and then went back into the South nineteen times, and brought out about seventy people — family, friends, strangers — and the work she did was the work of a liberator, and the name Moses was the name that the people she led gave her. The name was not a metaphor. It was a recognition that Tubman was doing what Moses did — going down into Egypt, leading the people out, and not stopping until the work was done.
Tubman was not the only one called Moses. The name was attached to several of the leaders of the Underground Railroad, and the name was attached to Tubman because she was the one who did the most going back. Tubman went back nineteen times, and she brought out seventy people, and she did not lose a single one. The work she did was the work of the story she carried, and the story she carried was the story of Moses.
Tubman was also the woman who said, when she was asked whether she regretted all the danger she had been in, that she would rather be dead than to be a slave again. The statement is the statement of a person who knows what Egypt is, and who knows what the Exodus costs, and who is willing to pay the cost. Tubman is the person who carries the story into the actual situation, and the story does what it is made to do — gives the person the courage to go back into Egypt and lead the people out.
Tubman is the proof that the story of Moses is not just a story. The story of Moses is a story that has been carried by actual people into actual situations of bondage, and the story has done what the story was made to do. Tubman is the person who proves the portability, and the proof is in the work she did. Tubman is Moses in her lifetime, and the name is the name that the story gave her, and the name is the name that the story has given to the liberators in every generation.
King's mountaintop
Martin Luther King Jr. ended his last speech on the mountaintop in Memphis, on April 3, 1968, four nights before he was killed. The speech is the speech where King talks about the Exodus, and the mountain, and the promised land, and the ending of the story. King says: Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I am not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He has allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I have looked over, and I have seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.
The speech is the speech where King identifies himself with Moses, and identifies the movement with the Exodus, and identifies the promised land with the goal of the movement — the end of the racism, the end of the poverty, the end of the war. King is the man who climbs the mountain, and who looks out over the land, and who sees the promised land, and who says that he may not get there with the people, but that the people will get there. The speech is the speech of a man who is on the way and not at the destination, and who is willing to die on the way.
King is the Moses of the twentieth century, and the speech is the speech of the Moses who climbs the mountain and looks out over the land and dies. The death of King is the death of Moses — the man who led the people toward the promised land and did not reach it. The ending is the ending of the story, and the ending is the ending that the story has been building toward all along. King is the proof that the story of Moses is still doing what the story was made to do — carrying a people through a situation where they have lost everything else, and giving them the courage to go on.
King is also the proof that the story of Moses is a story that has been claimed by the liberation movements in every generation, and that the claim has made the story what it is. The story of Moses is the story of a people who are in Egypt and who are singing for the day when they will go, and the story is the thing that carries them. King is the person who proves the portability in the twentieth century, and the proof is in the speech he gave on the mountaintop, and in the work he did, and in the death he died.
The same book for the settler
The Exodus story is a portable story, and the portability is the point. The portability is what makes the story able to serve the enslaved and the liberation movements, and the same portability is what makes the story able to serve the settlers and the conquerors. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly. The Exodus story has been used for liberation, and the Exodus story has been used for conquest, and the book should not pretend that the two uses are the same, or that the one cancels the other.
The Exodus story has been used by the settlers in the American West to justify the conquest of the land. The settlers read themselves as the Israelites, and the land they were settling as the promised land, and the people who were already there as the Canaanites who were in the way. The settlers used the Exodus story to give themselves a portable identity, and the identity was the identity of the people who were moving into the promised land, and the land was the land that God had promised them. The settlers used the story to justify the conquest, and the conquest was the conquest that the story was used to justify.
The Exodus story has also been used by the Zionists to justify the return to Palestine. The Zionists read themselves as the Israelites returning to the promised land, and the land as the promised land, and the people who were already there as the obstacles to the return. The Zionists used the Exodus story to give themselves a portable identity, and the identity was the identity of the people who were returning to the promised land. The Zionists used the story to justify the return, and the return was the return that the story was used to justify.
The Exodus story has been used by the settlers and the Zionists, and the use is the use that the book should not ignore. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly. The same book that gave the enslaved their master text gave the settlers their master text, and the same book that gave the liberation movements their master text gave the conquerors their master text. The book should not pretend that the two uses are the same, but it should also not pretend that the one cancels the other.
The Exodus story is a story that has been used for both liberation and conquest, and the book should say so. The story is a portable story, and the portability is what makes the story able to serve both. The story is a story that has been claimed by the liberation movements and by the conquerors, and the claim has made the story what it is. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly, because the honesty is what the book has been committed to all along.
The violence of the story
The violence of the story is not something the book should skip. The plagues kill children. The tenth plague is the death of the firstborn, and the death of the firstborn is the death of the children of Egypt. The conquest ideology in Deuteronomy is genocidal in its language. The text says, in Deuteronomy 20: You shall not leave alive anything that breathes. You shall utterly destroy all the Hittites, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The language is genocidal, and the book should not skip it.
The violence is the violence that the story carries, and the story is the story that the liberation movements have used. The story of Moses is the story that Harriet Tubman carried, and the story that Martin Luther King Jr. used, and the story that the enslaved sang in the spirituals. The story is the story that has been used for liberation, and the story is the story that has been used for conquest, and the story is the story that has violence in it. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly.
The violence is not the whole story. The story is also the story of the liberation, and the story of the law, and the story of the man who stood against the pharaoh. The story is the story of the man who led the people out of Egypt, and the story is the story of the man who received the law, and the story is the story of the man who spoke with God. The story is the story of the liberation, and the story is the story that has been used for liberation. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly.
But the book should also say that the story has violence in it, and that the violence has been used, and that the violence is the violence that the story carries. The book should say that the story has been used for conquest, and that the violence of the story has been used for the conquest. The book should say that the story is the story that has been claimed by the liberation movements and by the conquerors, and that the claim has made the story what it is. The book should say so, and it should say so honestly.
The honesty is what the book has been committed to all along. The book is honest first and not cynical. The book is reverent about the text's power while being straight about its history. The book is the book that says: this story is too important to lie about. The book is the book that says the violence of the story, and the use of the story for conquest, and the use of the story for liberation, and the book is the book that says all of it, and the book is the book that says it honestly.
The two uses and the truth
The truth of the story is not the truth of a historical man. The truth of the story is the truth of a story that has been used for liberation and for conquest, and that has carried people through both. The truth of the story is the truth of a portable story, and the portability is the point. The truth of the story is the truth of a story that has been claimed by the liberation movements and by the conquerors, and that has served both.
The truth of the story is the truth of the story that Harriet Tubman carried, and the story that Martin Luther King Jr. used, and the story that the enslaved sang in the spirituals. The truth of the story is the truth of the story that the settlers used to justify the conquest of the American West, and the story that the Zionists used to justify the return to Palestine. The truth of the story is the truth of a story that has been used for both, and that has carried people through both.
The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the portrait, and the truth of the portrait is the truth of the story that was built by many hands, and that was used by many generations, and that served many purposes. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that outlasted the empires that tried to bury it, and that the story has been the thing that outlasted them. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that belongs to everyone and to no one.
The truth of the story is the truth of the story of Moses, and the truth of the story of Moses is the truth of the story that has been used for liberation and for conquest, and that has carried people through both. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been following all along, and the book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been thinking about all along. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been arguing about all along.
The truth of the story is the truth of the story of Moses, and the truth of the story of Moses is the truth of the story that has been used for liberation and for conquest. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been following, and the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been thinking about, and the truth of the story is the truth of the story that the reader has been arguing about. The book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story of Moses, and the book has argued that the truth of the story is the truth of the story that has been used for liberation and for conquest.
The book has argued this, and the book has said it honestly, and the book has said it all along.
In Sight of the Land
The book began on a mountain. Deuteronomy 34: Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, the top of Pisgah, which faces Jericho, and the LORD showed him the whole land. Gilead as far as Dan. Naphtali, Ephraim, Manasseh. All Judah to the Mediterranean. The Negev. The Valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, as far as Zoar. And then: Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor, but no one knows where his grave is to this day.
The chapter that opened the book was built around that ending — the strangest final scene any founder ever got. A man climbs a mountain, looks out over the land he has spent a lifetime bringing a people toward, and dies. He does not enter. The book ends with a tomb that does not exist.
This closing chapter returns to the mountain, but it does not simply repeat the opening. It earns the ending. The book has spent thirty chapters building toward this return, and the return is the argument of the whole book. The portrait of Moses that the reader has followed — the stammering exile, the reluctant leader, the man who argued with God and lost, the man who killed an overseer and hid in Midian, the man who broke the tablets and struck the rock, the man who led a people to the edge and did not enter — is the portrait that makes the mountain ending the point of the story.
The return
The reader has followed Moses through the story as Israel told it — the basket, the murder, the Midian, the bush, the plagues, the sea, the law, the calf, the wilderness, the rock, the death. The reader has followed the world behind the story — the Egypt of the New Kingdom, the Semitic populations in the Delta, the forced labour in the brickmaking camps, the pharaoh question, the Levite named for the water. The reader has followed the making of the story — the four voices, the Josiah reform, the exile in Babylon, the final assembly of the Torah, the portrait built by many hands.
The reader has also followed the afterlife of the story — the portrait of Moses taken up by every major tradition in the West, the portrait of the philosopher, the teacher, the lawgiver, the prophet, the Egyptian, and the portrait used for every liberation movement that has ever called on the Exodus for its master text. The reader has seen that the story of Moses is not a story that belongs to one tradition, but a story that has been claimed by many, and that the claim has made the story what it is.
The story of Moses is a story that has outlasted every empire that tried to bury it. The empire of the pharaohs tried to bury the Israelites in the bricks. The empire of Babylon tried to bury the people in the deportation. The empire of Rome tried to bury the Jews in the diaspora. The empire of the Inquisition tried to bury the Jews in the fire. The empire of the Nazis tried to bury the Jews in the camps. The story of Moses has outlasted them all. The story has been carried by exiles, by refugees, by prisoners, by the people who had no land and no temple and no monarchy, and the story has been the thing that carried them. The story of Moses is a portable story, and the portability is the point.
The mountain ending is the point of the portable story. The man who never saw the land is the man who was made by a people who had lost the land, and the ending is the ending that speaks to a people who are on the way and not at the destination. The ending is the ending of the story as it was assembled in Babylon, and the ending is the ending of the story as it was carried by the exiles, and the ending is the ending of the story as it was used by every liberation movement that has ever called on the Exodus. The man who never saw the land is the man who understood what it was to be on the edge of the promise and not to enter it, and that is the point the book has been making all along.
What the book argued
The book argued, openly and warmly, in chapter three: the reader now has the tools. The book gave the reader the tools — the distinction between the story and the history, the difference between "made up" and "shaped," the three-strand braid of narrative, context, and making — and the book trusted the reader to hold them. The rest of the book was the application of the tools.
The book argued that the evidence for the historical Moses is thin. The book argued that for Jesus and Muhammad we have sources written within a century or two, and outside witnesses. For Moses we have a story written down at least five hundred years after it supposedly happened, by people with theological purposes, and essentially nothing outside it. The book argued that the honest position is not to pretend the problem away, but to make the problem the engine of the book, and to hold the uncertainty without letting it dominate.
The book argued that the story is true in a way that does not require it to be a documentary. The book argued that a story does not have to be invented to be shaped, and that something happened — a small group of Semitic-speaking people got out of Egypt, or remembered getting out, and around that memory grew a portrait of a man so specific and so unflattering that it is hard to believe someone made him up from nothing. The book argued that the portrait is built by many hands, and that the hands did not smooth out the specific details — the stammer, the refusal, the temper, the failure at the rock, the ending on the mountain.
The book argued that the portrait of Moses is a portrait built over centuries, and that the key moments in the building were the Josiah reform of 622 BCE, when the book of Deuteronomy was found or produced and put to political use for the first time, and the exile in Babylon, when the five books of Moses were assembled into their final form by a people who had lost the land and needed a story that would carry them. The book argued that the portrait of Moses in its final form is a portrait made by exiles, and that the ending of the Torah — the death of Moses on the mountain, with the land in sight but not entered — is the ending that speaks to a people who are on the way and not at the destination.
The book argued that the portrait of Moses was taken up by every major tradition in the West, and that the portrait was made to serve the needs of each tradition — the philosopher, the teacher, the lawgiver, the prophet, the Egyptian, the liberator. The book argued that the same story has served the settler and the slave, the one who needed to claim the land and the one who needed to leave it, and that the book should say so honestly. The book argued that the violence of the story — the plagues that kill children, the conquest ideology in Deuteronomy that is genocidal in its language — should not be skipped, and that the reckoning with that violence lands in chapter 29, but that it should be flagged when it appears earlier.
The book argued all of this, and the book trusted the reader to hold it. The closing chapter returns to the mountain, and the mountain is the point of all of it.
The mountain
The return to the mountain is the return to the ending of the story. The story of Moses ends with the death on the mountain, and the death on the mountain is the ending that makes the point of the whole book. The man who led his people to the edge and did not enter is the man who understood what it was to be on the way and not at the destination, and that is the man who the exiles in Babylon found in the portrait, and that is the man who the liberation movements found in the portrait, and that is the man who every religious tradition found in the portrait.
The mountain is also the mountain of the ending of the Torah. The Torah ends with the death of Moses on Mount Nebo, and the death on the mountain is the ending that the editors in Babylon made the ending of the whole book. The editors in Babylon assembled the five books of Moses into a single book that began with creation and ended with the death of Moses on the mountain, with the land in sight but not entered. The ending was the ending that spoke to the community in exile, and the ending was the ending that the community in exile carried with them when they went back to the land and when they went on into the diaspora. The ending was the ending that the rabbis read, and the ending that the philosophers read, and the ending that the Christians read, and the ending that the Muslims read, and the ending that the liberation movements read. The ending was the ending that lasted.
The mountain is also the mountain of the return to the beginning. The book began on the mountain, and the book ends on the mountain, and the mountain is the frame of the whole book. The frame is the frame of the story that the book has been telling, and the frame is the frame of the argument that the book has been making. The book began with the mountain, and the book ends with the mountain, and the mountain is the point of both.
The ending earned
The ending of the book is the ending that the book has earned. The book has spent thirty chapters building toward this ending, and the ending is the ending that the book has earned by making the argument that the portrait of Moses is a portrait built by many hands, and that the portrait was built by people who had lost the land, and that the ending of the story — the death of Moses on the mountain, with the land in sight but not entered — is the ending that speaks to a people who are on the way and not at the destination.
The ending is also the ending that the book has earned by making the argument that the story of Moses is a portable story, and that the portability is the point. The book has argued that the story of Moses has been carried by exiles, by refugees, by prisoners, by the people who had no land and no temple and no monarchy, and that the story has been the thing that carried them. The book has argued that the story of Moses is a story that has outlasted every empire that tried to bury it, and that the story has been the thing that outlasted them. The book has argued that the story of Moses is a story that belongs to everyone and to no one, and that the story has been claimed by every major tradition in the West, and that the claim has made the story what it is.
The ending is the ending that the book has earned by making all of this argument, and the ending is the ending that the book has earned by returning to the mountain, and the ending is the ending that the book has earned by making the reader see the mountain in the light of the argument. The mountain is the mountain of the ending of the story, and the mountain is the mountain of the return to the beginning, and the mountain is the mountain of the argument of the whole book. The man who never saw the land is the man who stands on the mountain and looks out over the land and dies, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been following all along, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been arguing about all along, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been explaining all along.
The ending is the ending that the book has earned, and the ending is the ending that the book has earned by making the reader understand that the man who never saw the land is the man who was made by a people who had lost the land, and that the man who never saw the land is the man who understood what it was to be on the way and not at the destination, and that the man who never saw the land is the man who the exiles in Babylon found in the portrait, and that the man who never saw the land is the man who every liberation movement has found in the portrait, and that the man who never saw the land is the man who every religious tradition has found in the portrait. The ending is the ending that the book has earned, and the ending is the ending that the book has earned by making the reader understand all of this.
The story and the truth
The book has argued that the story of Moses is true in a way that does not require it to be a documentary. The book has argued that the story is the story of a small group of Semitic-speaking people who got out of Egypt, or remembered getting out, and around that memory grew a portrait of a man so specific and so unflattering that it is hard to believe someone made him up from nothing. The book has argued that the portrait is the portrait of a man who was built by the needs of the community in exile, and that the portrait was then used by every community that came after, and that the portrait is the portrait of a man who is magnificent and flawed, and that the flaw is the thing that keeps the portrait from being a flatterer.
The book has argued that the truth of the portrait is the truth of the story, and that the story is the story that the generations built, and that the story is the story that the generations used, and that the story is the story that has lasted. The book has argued that the truth of the portrait is the truth of the story that has outlasted the empires that tried to bury it, and that the story has been the thing that outlasted them. The book has argued that the truth of the portrait is the truth of the story that belongs to everyone and to no one, and that the story has been claimed by every major tradition in the West, and that the claim has made the story what it is.
The truth of the portrait is not the truth of a historical man. The truth of the portrait is the truth of a story that was built by many hands, and that was used by many generations, and that served many purposes. The truth of the portrait is the truth of a story that was built by the needs of the community in exile, and that was then used by the rabbis, and the philosophers, and the Christians, and the Muslims, and the liberation movements, and the psychoanalysts. The truth of the portrait is the truth of a story that was built well enough to last.
The story has lasted. The story has outlasted the empires that tried to bury it. The story has been carried by the exiles in Babylon, and by the rabbis in the diaspora, and by the liberation movements in the United States, and by the people who have called on the Exodus for their master text in every generation. The story has been the thing that carried them, and the story has been the thing that outlasted them. The story of Moses is a portable story, and the portability is the point, and the point is the point that the book has been making all along.
The last word
The book ends on the mountain, as it began. The man who climbed the mountain, who looked out over the land, who died on the mountain, and whose grave is not known — the man who never saw the land — is the man who the book has been following all along, and the man who the book has been arguing about all along, and the man who the book has been explaining all along. The man who never saw the land is the man who was made by a people who had lost the land, and the man who never saw the land is the man who understood what it was to be on the way and not at the destination, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the exiles in Babylon found in the portrait, and the man who never saw the land is the man who every liberation movement has found in the portrait, and the man who never saw the land is the man who every religious tradition has found in the portrait.
The man who never saw the land is the man who the story is about, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has made, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has been about all along. The man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been following, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been arguing about, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been explaining. The man who never saw the land is the man who the book has been talking about all along, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the book ends with.
The man who never saw the land. That is the title of the book, and the title of the book is the point of the book, and the point of the book is the point that the book has been making all along. The man who never saw the land is the man who the story is about, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has made, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has been about all along. The story of Moses is the story of the man who never saw the land, and the story of Moses is the story that has outlasted the empires that tried to bury it, and the story of Moses is the story that has been carried by the exiles and the refugees and the prisoners and the people who had no land and no temple and no monarchy, and the story of Moses is the story that has been the thing that carried them.
The story of Moses is a portable story. The portrait of Moses is a portrait that has been claimed by everyone and by no one. The man who never saw the land is the man who the story is about, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has made, and the man who never saw the land is the man who the story has been about all along. The book ends on the mountain, and the mountain is the point, and the man who never saw the land is the point of the mountain.