“Adonai!” The shout was immediately swallowed by the chaos of wind, thunder, and hail which battered the ground in relentless violence. “Adonai!” The shout came again, this time climbing higher over the tumult.
Through his open palm which shielded his face, Aaron could just make out the shape of his younger brother, with arms reaching high and his robe whipping around him wildly in the storm. Immediately, the hail which had been beating the earth dissipated. The rapidly flashing lightning that had been burning itself on his retinas and deafening his ears ceased—only thick mist and clouds remained.
Only now did Aaron have time to notice his pounding heart rate, ringing ears, and wobbly knees. On their walk through the storm, they had passed trees reduced to splinters and animals crushed to pulp, all while they walked unscathed through the heart of the tumult. When Moses had told him they would have to leave the city and go out into the lightning and hail to pray, Aaron was tempted to call him a lunatic. But after all, he had seen over the past weeks, it was impossible to make claims like that anymore. The world they had known was collapsing around them like a burning house, and there they were, the two of them, untouched in the center of the blaze.
As the remaining wind drove away the curling mist and smoke from the ground, Aaron saw Moses standing still, his back to him. Forgetting his ringing ears and near-blindness, Aaron stood upright and joined Moses at his side—looking east.
“It’s somewhere out there…the mountain.” Moses said, in his gentle but husky voice. Aaron looked, but only saw the swirling shades of cloud and mist. Beyond it, he knew lay the green fields of Goshen, then beyond that, the mountain of God somewhere in the wilderness. He had been there before but had only seen Moses. Moses spoke again, with an intense weight of suppressed yearning in his voice, “I would trade anything to be there now…with all the children of Abraham with me as priests…being united to Yahweh.”
“Surely Pharaoh will keep his word this time.” Aaron said, in his usual confident manner. “He has seen enough of Yahweh. This time, he will let us go to Him.” Aaron glanced over at Moses with an optimistic smile. But Moses’ face was grave, staring with vivid fixation into the mist.
“No…not yet.”
Aaron’s smile withered. Turning around to face west, he could see, away over the ruined fields, a glimpse of the beleaguered Egyptian city. He’d never seen a city under siege, but he knew the sight of one would be tame compared to the devastation he saw now with his own eyes. Pillars of smoke rose from smashed roofs, vailing the hazy skyline of towers and temples all backlit with an apocalyptic red.
“Pharaoh is so blind and stiff-necked! Will he ever set us free? The world is ending and he will not even recognize Yahweh is at war with the world!”
“Yes…but you are only half right.” Moses replied, turning calmly to face the burning city with Aaron, “This is not a matter of releasing slaves. We belong to God and are already free. But the human world of bricks must end. Then Yahweh will create a new world…starting with us…His own kingdom of priests on earth.”
“But, don’t you say He made the heavens and earth in seven days?” Aaron interjected hopefully, “This is the seventh plague! Surely this is the end.”
Moses shook his head and looked at the mud at their feet.
“Until Pharaoh knows that the whole earth belongs to Yahweh, there will be no end of this war.” Moses faced Aaron, who continued to stare, crestfallen at the burning metropolis. “Do you trust our God, brother?” Moses said suddenly.
Aaron did not break his gaze, saying after a moment’s hesitation,
“I do.”
“Then believe me that we will one day see the world reborn. We will heal lands like these and every king of every nation will listen to the priests of Yahweh. Then the seventh day will never end.” Moses sighed and began walking back toward the city, Aaron following at his heels, “But right now, trust is enough, and tomorrow is the eighth day.”
This is Bone of My Bone (Genesis 2)