2 The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. 3 The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the pots of meat and ate our fill of bread, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” 4 Then the LORD said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not.” … 9 Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites: ‘Draw near to the LORD, for he has heard your complaining.’” 10 And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud. 11 The LORD spoke to Moses, 12 “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the LORD your God.’” 13 In the evening quails came up and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. 14 When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. 15 When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the LORD has given you to eat.”
Exodus 16:2–4, 9–15 (NRSVue)
Nostalgia can be slippery. When we’re unhappy with current conditions, the past takes on a rose-colored hue. Political nostalgia is particularly dangerous because it can blind us to the conditions of oppression for ourselves or for others. Exodus 16 provides a striking example of selective amnesia that longs for a return to the status quo, even though that status included enslavement.
In the wilderness between Egypt and Sinai, the Israelites seemed to suffer from false nostalgia. They remembered Egypt as a place of abundance, where they “sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread” (Exodus 16:2 NRSV). This is a strange way to describe Egypt. Remember, their lives in Egypt had been so abysmal that they had cried out for relief (Exodus 2:23-25; 3:7, 9). None of that sentiment showed itself in this scene. They seemed to have forgotten they lived in dire straits. Their new historical narrative was questionably selective.
That narrative was also demonstrably false. Life in ancient Egypt is well documented. From what we can tell, common people in Egypt did not eat meat. While the elite ate beef or lamb, common people subsisted on vegetables, bread, beer, fish, and occasional wild poultry. “Fleshpots” (that is, pots of meat) seems a definite stretch. Unlike most Egyptians, the Israelites did keep flocks and herds (probably mostly for wool and milk, along with the occasional family feast) but they brought their livestock with them out of Egypt, so they hardly needed to complain about a change in diet.
The Israelites took this falsified vision of their past and flung it at Moses and Aaron, accusing them of trying to starve them to death. Remarkably, YHWH did not rebuke them. God saved negative consequences for those who complained until after the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, when they should have known better.
YHWH responded this time by announcing a gracious provision of bread. But if we’re reading the text in English rather than Hebrew, we might miss the way the narrator gently points to the farce of their nostalgia. As it is told here, the story trains hearers or readers how to think about the political vision cherished by the Israelites in the desert.
As if to remind them of how things really were, YHWH’s speech is laced with echoes of their time in bondage in Egypt.
“I am going to rain bread from heaven for you” (Exodus 16:4 NRSV).
In Egypt, God had “rained” hail on the land of Egypt, sparing Goshen, where the Hebrews lived (9:18, 23). The same God who decimated Israel’s enemies would use divine power to provide for the needs of the Israelites.
“Each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day” (Exodus 16:4 NRSV).
This is surely among the most powerful intertextual links in Exodus, for in Egypt, Pharaoh’s taskmasters had required a daily quota of bricks, demanding “enough for that day” (5:13, 19). Israel’s new master provided for their needs using precisely the same language. No doubt Pharaoh’s words hung over the people, driving them to work longer hours to meet his demands. YHWH cleverly echoed Pharaoh’s words as a study in contrasts: What Pharaoh demanded for his own benefit, YHWH would provide for theirs.
“I have heard the complaining of the Israelites” (Exodus 16:12 NRSV).
This is not the first time God announced, “I have heard…” YHWH’s action to rescue Israel was precipitated by their outcry, which God heard (3:7 and 6:5). Even though their outcry in the desert was illegitimate and directed and YHWH, the divine ear still turned in their direction. As if to remind them of God’s fundamental disposition of generosity toward them, YHWH announced, “I have heard…”
“At twilight you shall eat meat” (Exodus 16:12 NRSV).
The word “twilight” is an unusual construction in Hebrew, expressed as “between the evenings.” The same expression appears in divine command earlier in Exodus, during the preparations for the Passover (12:6, 8). This, too, is where God directed them to “eat meat.” By providing meat for them in the wilderness at this precise time—twilight—YHWH gently but powerfully reminds them of what God has already done on their behalf to spare their lives.
“In the morning you shall have your fill of bread” (Exodus 16:12 NRSV).
The phrase “in the morning” contrasts the several times YHWH announced through Moses to Pharaoh “in the morning” that disaster would come (7:15; 8:16; 9:13). The locusts came “in the morning” (10:13). The morning is also when YHWH achieved the ultimate victory over Pharaoh’s army at the Sea (14:24, 27). The pairing of evening and morning also echoes God’s work of creation in Genesis 1, suggesting that the same God who set the world in place would undertake to meet the people’s need for food to eat.
“Then you shall know that I am the LORD your God” (Exodus 16:12 NRSV).
God’s dramatic provision of food in the wilderness was not to be an end in itself, but pointed to an outcome even more important: YHWH’s self-revelation. By means of the manna and quail, Israel would come to know even more clearly that YHWH was their God (6:7; 10:2). This purpose had already punctuated the months of signs and wonders in Egypt, proving decisively to Israel as well as to Egypt who YHWH was—the characteristics by which they could know YHWH (7:5, 17; 8:18; 14:4, 18).
Pharaoh, the sovereign of Egypt, had been ambitious, exacting, demanding, and exploitative. YHWH was powerful but generous, compassionate, and good. YHWH’s ambitions moved in the direction of freedom and flourishing. YHWH’s actions in Egypt had made this abundantly clear. However, the new setting in the desert and Israel’s fresh need put the people’s knowledge of YHWH to the test. Would they trust the God who had demonstrated superiority over Pharaoh and the gods of Egypt? Or would they revert to the status quo of life under Pharaoh?
In fact, the explicit “test” of this season was the provision of manna six days each week, with double provision on day six. God instructed the people to gather double on the sixth day so they could rest on the seventh. Those who failed to follow these instructions were in for a rude awakening on the seventh day, when no manna appeared. In contrast to Pharaoh’s exploitative leadership that allowed no time for rest or worship, YHWH’s economy included regular periods of rest for the entire community. They would not have to scramble to fill another’s coffers or scrape to put food on their own tables.
In the wilderness, Israel discovered that YHWH’s powerful generosity was not bound by geography. It followed them through the desert. As the psalmist would later express:
“The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. …
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies …
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD my whole life long”
(Psalm 23:1, 5-6 NRSV).
YHWH’s house was far superior to Pharaoh’s “house of slaves” (Exodus 20:2). The LORD’s table was loaded with blessings. God’s pastures left no need unmet.
Every generation is in danger of constructing a false vision of a glorious past to counter some perceived lack in the present. Campaign slogans usually lean forward, promising a sparkling vision of what the nation could become under new leadership. But not always. Warren G. Harding’s 1920 bid for the presidency called for a “Return to Normalcy” after WWI. Certainly ending a war is a good thing, but I wonder whether this vision of “normalcy” appealed equally to everyone. Black soldiers not only signed up for the war, but they fought hard for the right to enter combat in Europe rather than to be assigned to labor crews. Eventually, some of these men achieved great military honors. Would a “return to normalcy” appeal to these decorated veterans? Or would it mean a return to obscurity, prejudice, and discrimination? In their case, I suspect nostalgia was a slap in the face.
Franklin D. Roosevelt announced in 1932, “Happy Days are Here Again.” In retrospect, FDR’s optimism was obviously misplaced—the Great Depression lasted nine more years, giving way to World War II. But again, would everyone in America look at the 1920’s as a happy time? Whose voices were not being heard?
Ronald Reagan urged in 1980 “Let’s Make America Great Again.” I’m old enough to remember Reagan as president, but I was too young to understand the political dynamics of those days. What was it about the US that he perceived as being in decline? His goal was to deregulate business to stimulate the economy and to build up a stockpile of weapons that would show the Soviet Union who’s boss. Had the US lost global dominance? Is it possible that some of the business regulations he eschewed ensured a level playing field for different constituencies? Without taking a deep dive into that time period, I can’t be sure, but as my circle of friends and colleagues has become more diverse over the years, I’ve become suspicious of rose-colored nostalgia. We must be careful not to gloss over the failures of our predecessors. When we do, we stand in danger of repeating them.
In any age, nostalgic campaign slogans must lead to clear articulation about which aspects of the past are worth retrieving. We must interrogate our own visions of the past to ensure that we’re not hiding the truth from ourselves. What era was truly great? Colonial times? Slavery? The Civil War? Women’s suffrage? The Roaring 20s? Great Depression? World War I or II? Jim Crow? Not everyone has a rosy idea of America’s past. What was great for some was not great for everyone.
The Israelites were scarcely a month out of Egypt and they were already re-writing their history, forgetting their collective traumas in their quest for “the good life.” Let’s not settle for a return to the status quo or place our bets on flawed human leaders. The story of the Exodus issues an invitation to a truly radical future by trusting a ruler–YHWH–who is thoroughly good. God’s economy promotes the flourishing of all.
“Let’s not settle…” Indeed. As Mac Loftin argued in his piece on this site on October 29th, 2020, settling for the “lesser evil” is still choosing evil. Let’s not settle for the lesser evil (again), but start demanding the good.