Exodus 14 is one of the most fantastic passages in all of scripture. It is difficult to read and reread this text without getting lost in the magnificence of the miracle that is present as an angel is flying around, a pillar of cloud is changing places, and waters are subsiding on behalf of the children of Israel. The pillar somehow both lights up the night and gives darkness to the Egyptians. Triumphant, the recently released Hebrew people are walking on dry land into their future. This story is singularly important to our understanding of God’s liberating power, and it’s a narrative that we return to often. Yet amid the grandeur of the cosmic displays of power, God’s liberating work also involves mundane actions of disorientation.
In this passage, the whole of creation bends to the will of a God who desires salvation for God’s children. The water flows differently. The wind blows differently. The ground itself dries up. Lightness and darkness are repositioned. The machinations of this miracle harken back to the creation narrative as once again order is brought to chaos, and for the children of Israel it is good. The exodus is a new creation. God not only rescues Israel from Egypt, but God also begins remaking the very world that empire had disordered.
Yet in a way befitting a God who can’t be contained, the very means of bringing about that order comes from a kind of chaos of God’s own making. God’s liberation comes from when God makes everyone lose their bearings. Notice the escalating disorientation in the text. Israel is trapped, with a pursuing Egyptian army behind them and the sea in front of them. This seems like an utterly nonsensical escape route. Holy confusion abounds for Israel. Then the mighty empire has to endure creation’s confounding of its pursuit. More confusion. I’d imagine that even as the Israelites made their way across the dry ground, the sight of water being held at bay around them was disorientating. But still they made it through to freedom.
