P. Ivan Hrůša O.Carm.
I. The Old Testament
“God of the Hebrews has encountered us.” With these words, Moses announces to Pharaoh the meeting with the Lord (Ex 5:3). This meeting begins a great event: for the Israelites, for Egypt, for all people. We can say without exaggeration that this is a fateful meeting. After all, St. Paul writes: “The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable” (Rom 11:29). Moses and his people did not meet the gods of Egypt or Mesopotamia, nor any of today's idols.
The Lord called Himself – and thus remains irrevocably – the God of the Hebrews (Ex 3:18). And those affected by this meeting are called – and remain – Hebrews.
What does the name Hebrew mean? In Abraham’s genealogy (Gen 11:14–17), we find Heber as one of Abraham's ancestors, of whom Jewish tradition says that he was the teacher of Jacob, the patriarch of Israel.1 Both are derived from the Hebrew root word meaning “to go over, to cross, to pass through.” It is not a coincidence; the name expresses the mission, the meaning, the mystery of the one who bears it. A Hebrew is one who “crosses.”
We can understand this in two senses. The first is a physical, historical sense: The Hebrews were originally nomadic shepherds. They had no permanent residence, but wandered with their flocks in search of pasture. Every year they faced a double great migration. In the rainy season, when enough moisture fell, they grazed their flocks on the steppes, and during the dry season, they moved to cultivated, agricultural areas.2 Continuous wandering, crossing was a necessity for life: in the dry season, they could not survive on the parched desert.
The second sense of crossing for the Hebrews has its focus in the spiritual realm. The Hebrews are those who journey from Egypt to the promised land. This does not only refer to the period of Moses’ activity, as it might initially seem. Abraham (Gen 12–13), Jacob (Gen 31–33) also journeyed to the promised land, and let us also recall the journey of Joseph sold into Egypt: “God sent me before you to preserve life!” (Gen 45:5). All of them encountered the God of the Hebrews, and in each of their lives, we can read the words of the Lord to Abraham: “Go out from your land!” (Gen 12:1). Now Moses comes to Pharaoh: “God of the Hebrews has encountered us.” His next words can only sound differently: “Let us go!”
Whoever remains in Egypt will perish. In the desert, the merciless sun will destroy him; in Egypt, the cruel Pharaoh, sometimes signifying in the writings of church fathers and theologians, the one who holds people in the bondage of sin – the devil.3 Exodus, crossing is also here, but precisely here a necessity for life.
As we can notice with all the mentioned characters, the exodus has never been easy or perhaps even joyful. Abraham sets out for an unknown land. How long will he wander? How will he pass through the desert and foreign lands? Who will stand up for him in the lands where he knows no one? How can he endure alone? Jacob flees from home to save his life – who would wish to be in his shoes?
And what about Joseph? Sold by his own brothers as a slave! The exodus of the Israelites from Egypt is no easier. Labor, the slaughter of newborn boys, fear of Pharaoh, and then the plagues of Egypt, flight, being caught between water and an enemy army. The Israelites later confess: “The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terrors, with signs and wonders…” (Dt 26:8).
However, we must also recognize the other side of the matter: the exodus was indeed demanded by God! He is, after all, the God of the Hebrews. The God of nomads seeking pasture. The God of those who seek life. “He brings prisoners to a happy life; but the rebellious will remain in a dry land. God is the God who saves us; it is He, the Lord God, who brings us out of the snares of death” (Ps 68:7bc.21).
Not only people embark on the journey. Their God journeys with them. He continually goes further, crosses over, calls. Whoever remains will perish.
This difference – to stay or to press on – is very important. A certain way of life is also associated with a certain way of faith. Shepherds believed in a deity that accompanies them on their journey. Shepherd deities (even among tribes that did not worship the Lord) were not bound to a specific place, and their power did not weaken when the tribe moved. On the contrary, the decision about changing pastures was made by the tribal leader through the inspiration of the tribal deity.4 In contrast, the faith of tribes and nations that lived permanently in one location, practiced agriculture, and built cities reflected a settled way of life.5 Their gods resided in temples and ruled over the territory that the tribe controlled. They were the gods of a specific location; however, outside their territory, their power weakened, and one could encounter a stronger god.
In Palestine, the reverence for such gods reflected the cycle of nature – the yearly repetition of the same rituals without signs of historicity, without direction and traversed paths towards a final goal. In comparison with the God of the Hebrews, we can say that this “settled” faith did not progress from anywhere to anywhere. There was no exit or goal, Egypt and the promised land. Such were the gods of Egypt and Mesopotamia. Thus, gods of places, of whom the Lord says: “Go out from your land!” and by the command of the Lord, Pharaoh: “Get up and go!” (Ex 12:31). When the Israelites came to the promised land and occupied it, the temptation soon arose to conform to other nations: “Let a king be over us! We want to be like all the other nations. Our king will judge us and go out before us to lead our battles” (1 Sam 8:19–20). To be like others seemed attractive and desirable. The surrounding nations were indeed at a higher cultural level, and the Israelites wanted to match them. But will adapting and changing one’s way of life also bring a change of faith?
The struggle for preserving and refining faith in the true God spanned centuries. Let us recall Elijah and the whole multitude of the Lord’s prophets! God fights for His people, and the fight is often hard. In an absolutely extreme situation, the Lord is not afraid to destroy even the holiest thing the Israelites had to preserve and restore true faith: “Therefore, because of you, Zion will be plowed like a field, and Jerusalem will become ruins, and the mountain of the house of the Lord a wooded height” (Mic 3:12). Time and again, He brings Israel out of false certainties, delusions, and the selfishness of sin. The Israelites must remain Hebrews: after all, God’s gifts and His calling are irrevocable! And this is a great fortune for all who are called. For the fact that they preserved faith in the God of the Hebrews, in the nomadic God who journeys with His people even into exile, enabled the Israelites to survive even the most difficult stage of their ancient history – the Babylonian captivity. Had they abandoned this image of God, the destruction of the temple would have meant the demise of their faith.6
And faith did not let them down. When the period of purification passed, the voice of God resounded again through the prophet: “Come out from Babylon!” (Isa 52:11–12).
The journey in the desert and the Babylonian exile show us starkly how demanding the exodus can be. God leads His people literally on the border between life and death. He does this not unnecessarily: He wants to touch the deepest layers of human existence, to shake the human heart, to transform its essence. A mere stroll is not enough. And what complicates the journey further is God's concealment. The Israelites cannot touch God, cannot see Him, must not depict Him. Their guide and support in the journey must be faith.
II. The New Testament
The God of the Old and New Testament is one and the same. The God of the Hebrews, the God of those who cross. In the Old Testament, the Lord brings the Israelites out of Egypt to the promised land. This is a prefiguration: in the New Testament, the believers are to come out from what is theirs to what belongs to the Father (Lk 2:49).
This time, it is neither Moses nor a prophet who calls for a new exodus, but the Son of God Himself. His first sermon contains a great challenge: “Repent and believe the gospel!” (Mk 1:15). This is the innermost content of the ancient words of Isaiah: “Come out from Babylon!”
Jesus chooses disciples and calls them: “Come follow me!” Similarly, God once addressed Abraham: “Go out from your land!” It is important to realize that calling disciples was not customary. On the contrary, students sought their teachers. Thus, by calling His followers Himself, the Lord hints at something. It is a work of God.
According to the accounts of the gospels and Peter’s sermon in the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus preached, healed, cast out evil spirits, performed miracles, and throughout all this, He went about (Acts 10:38). He went about the land sowing the seed of God’s kingdom. At the end of the fourth chapter of Luke's gospel, we read that a crowd was keeping Him from leaving them. However, Jesus would not be held back. God’s kingdom cannot be built in a place, in a dwelling, and comfort. To the disciples, this Master’s behavior might seem strange: for at the very moment something is beginning to be formed, when people gather and want Him to stay, He sets out on yet another journey. Jesus’ unwillingness to linger in one place may often be uncomfortable for us as well. But Jesus never says to any of His disciples: “Stay here with me!” He always says: “Come follow me!”
Jesus is led by the Holy Spirit. Spirit means movement, direction, wind. If the wind stops, it ceases to be. The Spirit also cannot stop. He wants to bring us to the other side.
Many eloquent moments can be found in the story where Jesus and Peter walk on the waves of the Sea of Galilee (Mt 14:22–33; Mk 6:45–51).
First, Jesus urges the disciples to go to the other shore. To cross to the other side – that is the mission of the Hebrews. The Kingdom of God is alive, in motion; it cannot be built in place. The Master must, however, compel the disciples, for they would likely not want to go themselves. We often find ourselves in a similar situation. Waves are rising against the boat; there is wind; darkness has fallen. Reaching the other side is not easy, and from a human perspective, not even safe. The disciples have no secure support; they lack solid ground beneath their feet. On this journey, we can lean only on faith.
In the same story in St. Mark, we read that when Jesus walked on the water, He wanted to pass by them, to cross them. Not out of indifference; the evangelist merely indicates who Jesus really is. In the Old Testament, this is how the Lord is spoken of. It is God who passes by. He passes by the rocky cleft where Moses is hidden, and he is allowed to see God from behind (Ex 33:21–23). And He passes by the cave on Mount Horeb, where the prophet Elijah spent the night, and reveals Himself to the prophet in a gentle and quiet voice (1 Kings 19:11–13).
When the disciples saw Jesus, they were terrified: this is our typical reaction. Often in various events, we fail to recognize God because He does not walk in human ways. He walks on water. What a paradox! The Lord approaches the disciples, yet they see a ghost. And how often does this happen in our own lives.
Jesus does not explain anything to them; He simply says: “It is I!” Such assurance must suffice the disciples on the sea – it must suffice for us as well. The disciples believe the Lord. Peter within himself discovers a surge of very great faith: “If it is you, command me to come to you on the water!” And as long as faith lasts, Peter can go. He can cross the sea. He can cross to the other shore.
Just as in the Old Testament, so in the New Testament, all crossing is based on faith. In order for a person to be a Hebrew, they must believe. Without faith, one cannot reach the other side of the sea.
The exodus from Egypt, the desert, the promised land, all these are prefigurations: Easter, the time of the Church, the fulfillment of time. In the New Testament, it is ultimately Christ Himself who crosses. According to St. Luke, Moses and Elijah spoke with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration about His exodus that He was to accomplish in Jerusalem (Lk 9:31). The heavenly Father says to Jesus: “Go out from your land!” – first: Become a man. This is the incarnation. And then: Go out from the land of the living. This is the crucifixion. And further: Go out from death. This is the resurrection. And more: Enter into heaven and sit at my right hand (cf. Ps 110:1). And that is the goal of the journey. If the path of the Hebrews in the Old Testament led to the border between life and death, Jesus passes through that boundary. His – and our – crossing is the crossing from death to life. “We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too may walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:4).
The constant claim of God upon us not to settle in what is ours, but to strive forward, to be willing to renounce ourselves and strive for what belongs to the heavenly Father, is thus a participation in Christ’s life, in His exodus, in His death and resurrection.
Coming out of oneself means coming out of death. This is the ultimate, deepest exodus that God called Abraham to many centuries ago. For the land that is purely and exclusively ours is the land of the shadow of death. A person must come out of themselves in order not to perish. God calls us to life, to share with Him His mystery, the mystery of life and love. He does not live for Himself, nor is He settled within Himself. Coming out of oneself, giving oneself, permeating – this is the life of the Most Holy Trinity. This is the desire and essence of love. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit – this is a single immense movement, a flame, heat, light, being filled with love that no human mind could even conceive. Therefore, God calls us to movement, to crossing. Thus, He is the God of wanderers, the God of the Hebrews. To be a Hebrew, to cross, to love.
