The Worst Cry Ever

One more blow, the most dreadful of all, impends. “The stream of negotiation has reached the narrows, and the waters are shortly going to go crashing through the gorge” (T. Fretheim). Do I feel angry or sad as I ponder this penultimate encounter between Pharaoh and Moses–or perhaps both? Does it seem odd to read of Moses’ high reputation with Pharaoh’s officials and people? I reflect on the disasters brought upon large numbers of people by megalomaniac political leaders; by greedy CEOs taking ridiculous risks or bonuses; and so on. Their actions affect not only themselves but so many employees, investors, those living on fixed incomes. It is good that they should be punished; and exasperating when they escape. Is my heart free of jealousy in this regard?

Or am I sad as I read of God going out over the land of Egypt; of the emphatic word “die” in verse 5; of the loud cry of verse 6, echoing the Israelites’ cry in 5:15; predicted here and fulfilled in 12:30? The Lord makes a distinction for the Israelites, among whom not a dog “sharpens his tongue” (7, literally). I remember the compassion with which Rouault paints clowns and prostitutes and overweight alcoholic professors. “We are all more or less buffoons,” he wrote of painting an old clown, “we all wear spangled costumes … how can we not be seized in the pit of our stomachs with an immeasurable sense of pity.” Can I find it in my heart to pity those who have become imprisoned by their own stupidity or arrogance or wretchedness; can I see their situation for the prison it has become; will I go out like Moses in hot anger, or will I wash the feet–even of Judas?

Is there a warning that you received and rejected? How can you discern between a false warning and a true warning?