Leviticus 4 through 9

The Lord's not really a bad guy. He understands that sometimes people break His commandments unwittingly. Things happen, right? After all, it's not like you meant to have sex with your neighbor's wife; it just sorta happened because you were drunk and she was looking hot. You believe me, don't you, baby? I would never hurt you intentionally. 

In cases like these, the remedy is simple: kill a bull, have a priest dip his finger in the blood and sprinkle it seven times before the Lord, and then burn the bull sort of like before. (The specifics don't really matter, do they? It’s easier and cleaner to just send an Edible Arrangements to patch things up.) 

Let's just get to the bottom line of chapters 4 through 7, conveniently placed near the top: if you break any commandment--and not just the Big Ten, but any of the other things God has told us not to do but we still do every day--either knowingly or unknowingly, you will have some animal killing and blood sprinkling to do. Or, you know, bake some bread or bring some fruit to the Lord. Also, don't be a total dick: make restitution when you can. 

Besides your sinning, God is also concerned about your cholesterol levels. That's why he doesn't want you to eat fat, whether it be the fat of a fox--although they look like pretty lean animals to me--an ox, a sheep, or a goat. Oh, and whatever you do, don't eat blood. What happens if you do? Banishment! And a lifetime on Lipitor!

But feel free to use animal fat in other ways, maybe as a lubricant. But hold off using that lube in certain ways until we read all of Leviticus, if you know what I mean.

Now that God has minutely catalogued all of the steps necessary to perform an effective sacrifice at the altar in the tabernacle, He commands Moses to get going on it. That means Moses has to truss up Aaron and his sons in their get ups and take them to the tabernacle along with some oil, a bull, two rams, a basket of unleavened bread, and something to read because this is going to take a while. Moses calls the congregation to the door of the tabernacle so they can watch as he and Aaron kill the animals as offerings and then Moses sprinkles the animals’ blood on Aaron or something. Really, this book is tad boring so I might be missing a few things, but suffice it to say that Moses and Aaron finally do all the stuff God has wanted them to do in the tabernacle, including staying at the tabernacle for a week.

Nothing happens during the week, but on the eighth day Moses tells Aaron and his sons and the elders of Israel to prepare another sacrifice because the Lord is finally going to appear to everyone.* Yay! Maybe something will finally happen! 

But what does happen when God appears? He shoots fire from his fingertips like Emperor Palpatine and engulfs the burnt offerings in flames. Which begs the question: why did Mo and Co have to burn them in the first place?

*Which makes no sense because wasn't conjuring up the Lord the reason why the tabernacle was constructed? Now God's going to appear to everyone outside the tabernacle? If I were Aaron, heavily clothed and sprinkled with blood in the desert sun, I'd be pissed. 

Leviticus 1, 2, 3

If there's one thing we've learned from our close and accurate reading of the Bible it's this: God really, really wants you to love Him. And not just say you love, but demonstrate that love in everything you do. Like the worst girlfriend you've ever had, God wants to know that he is the only one for you, that he is always on your mind, and that you would die without him—specifically because He would kill you if you ever tried to leave Him.

Leviticus keeps that ball rolling. It begins with proper way to kill, butcher, and burn animals in God's honor. In keeping with God's OCD nature, the directions are highly specific and not at all tedious to read or write about. To keep things breezy, let's use bullet points. Feel free to print out this list and keep it handy for the next time you barbecue and you want to offer the extras to the Lord. One note: all sacrifices must be done voluntarily. But if you don't do them you will probably die a horrible death. But it's totally up to you.

• If you want to sacrifice cattle: Make sure it's a male without blemish. (This is a very important point for all sacrifices: any animal you kill must look good. No fatties for the Lord!) Grab the bull by the head and kill it by the door of the tabernacle. Aaron's sons will gather the blood and sprinkle it around the altar. Flay the carcass, chop it into pieces, and lay the parts in this order on the fire: first the meat, then the head, and then the fat. The legs and organs should be washed before they are burned

• If you want to sacrifice a goat: Choose a male without blemish but kill it by the north side of the altar. Follow the steps for dismembering and burning the bull

• If you want to sacrifice a bird: Turtledoves and pigeons only! Twist its head off and burn it on the altar. Spill the blood from the body at the side of the altar. Tear out the crop—the organ in the throat where food is stored before heading to the digestive tract—and pluck the feathers, and throw them on the east side of the altar. Grab the wings and tear the bird, but don't tear it completely in half. Burn

If you're a vegetarian, or some other liberal communist bent on destroying America, you'll want to mix the most expensive semolina you can find at Whole Foods with organic sunflower oil and frankincense and burn that as an offering. It's not a cool and draining the blood from a bull and burning its intestines, but it will have to do. You can also bake a nice bread in the oven or in a pan, or even fry it up, but make sure it's unleavened. Remember: God hates yeast. And don't forget the salt. God wants the bread seasoned perfectly before you toast it for him.

If you're on Atkins, feel free to burn some green ears of corn.

The protocol for a peace offering is slightly different, for no discernible reason. Start out with a blemish-free animal. Kill it by the door of the tabernacle, sprinkle its blood by the altar,* and burn the fat. Throw away the kidneys and the caul that's above the liver.†

One important point: when it comes to dinner, don't eat fat or blood. Which explains why I’ve never seen a Jewish vampire.

*Rule of thumb: if you find yourself with some extra blood, sprinkle it everywhere, just to be on the safe side.

†I have no idea what that is, either.

Exodus 35 through 40

Moses gets some Proactive and calls everyone together to remind them that if they work on the Sabbath they will be put to death. The definition of "work" is broadened to include making a fire, which means cold leftovers for dinner once a week.

Moses then tells everyone to make an offering unto the lord of everything needed to construct the tabernacle and all the furniture inside it, to make the clothes Aaron and his sons must wear when they meet with God, and to concoct the incense and perfume. It's a long list, so review it at your leisure here, here, here, and here.

Moses quickly remembers that God assigned the enormous task to two guys, one from the tribe of Judah and the other from the tribe of Dan. Now, they have help: any wide-hearted men who wanted to pitch in. Except Moses. He’s too busy pointing to the pillar of smoke that’s actually leading them through the desert and assigning the court cases to underlings to handle to do any real work.

"Isn't it awesome that the Lord told me in private up there on the mountain that you guys should all be blessed with this work?" Moses says to them. "I mean, what are the chances that God wouldn't want me to it alone, right?"

Somehow, the desert yields the needed materials, which the Israelites enthusiastically dump at Moses' feet. The pile grows ever larger until someone notices that there is simply more crap then would ever be needed. Moses, considering the hoarding implications, tells everyone to ease up on the offerings for a while.

If you’re like me you’re probably wondering exactly how much the whole shebang cost. Because the KJV is--how do I put this delicately?--poorly written, it's difficult for me to determine. But I do know that 603,550 men aged 20 and older each donated half a shekel to the building and maintenance of the tabernacle, and each shekel is worth about $10 in today's dollars. That means Moses collected a little over $3 million from desert-dwelling refugees to make the tabernacle. But didn’t the Israelites just donate all the needed materials? What did Moses need all that money for then?

After everything is done--it really is a huge undertaking--the Israelites stroll through the marble archway of Moses’ 400-acre spread, past the pure-gold fountain, and up the polished marble steps to Moses’ Frank Lloyd Wright­–designed 9000-square-foot Tudor to wake Moses up from his nap among the fields of tulips brought all the way from Holland by a group of beautiful virgins. Moses stretches and drops frozen peeled grapes into his mouth and glances at the finished product. Blinking like an overstuffed Persian cat on his gilded bed cushions, Moses blesses them, and rolls back over to finish his dream of getting away from all the peasants.

The tabernacle must be assembled once a year, on the first day of the first month. Moses immediately goes out to Crate and Barrel to buy some under-the-bed storage boxes to keep all of the gold and silver and skins and fine linens and shittim wood and candlesticks and tables sand-free until New Year’s.

New Year's Day rolls around and Moses puts everything together, squeezes Aaron and his sons into their outfits, stages the tent, and anoints everything that isn't nailed down--which is everything. There’s so much oil around it looks like the stage of the Mr. Universe competition. When everything is ready a dark cloud descends over the tent. And get this--the cloud prevents Moses from entering the tent and witnessing the true glory of the Lord! Moses, not really clear on the meaning of "foreshadowing," goes back to his estate to have lunch with the virgins.

Exodus 33, 34

As Mo and Co. commence their search for the land of milk of honey and a solid Wi-Fi hotspot, God promises to get rid of all the clans that currently occupy the land ahead of the Israelites' arrival. From the looks of current events, He's not having much success on that front.

The merry band stops for a while and Moses pitches the tabernacle tent, which must take him all afternoon. Inside the tabernacle, Moses gets a visit from the smoky pillar and he begs the Lord to let him see His face. God defers, saying that like Medusa, anyone who looks directly upon His face would surely die. Moses insists; God says nope. They argue back and forth until God comes up with a brilliant compromise: If Moses crams himself in a rock cleft, then God will walk by, cover the cleft with His hand, and then remove His hand once he passes, giving Moses a clear view of His backside.

"How is that a compromise, exactly?" Moses asks.

“The compromise is that I don’t smite you for wanting to look upon me, Moses,” God says.

But before Moses can check out God's booty, the Big Man wants Moses to make a couple of stone tablets to replace the ones he threw at the golden calf and meet Him on Mount Sinai in the morning. That's where God decides to deliver to Moses a slightly different version of the Ten Commandments. These aren't the kind of commandment that trip easily off the tongue and look great illegally chiseled on a courthouse wall. They are, considering the wackiness that has occurred since the previous commandments were destroyed, concerned less about the social contract and more about jealousy, food, and oxen. Again with the oxen! I tell you, oxen must have some great agents to get such plum placements in the Bible.

So here's the lesser-known 10 Commandments Redux:

1. God is jealous, so don't worship any other god.

2. Don't make any molten gods. (I wonder what inspired that?)

3. Eat unleavened bread for six days.

4. Something to do with sacrificing the first born male ox and sheep, but when it comes to sacrificing the first-born ass just skip it and kill a lamb instead.

5. Don't work on the Sabbath.

6. Everyone should appear before the Lord three times a year.

7. Don't mix leaven with blood.

8. Don't leave the Passover sacrifice until the next day.

9. Offer to God the first fruits of the season.

10. Don't cook a kid--that's a baby lamb--in his mother's milk.

It took Moses 40 days and nights to scribble down these words, and you just know that when he was heading down the mountain he was thinking, "Those fuckers better have behaved themselves. I don't want to smash another perfectly fine if slightly less impressive Ten Commandments."

To his delight, Moses finds that the Israelites were able to hold it all together for a little over a month. But there is one problem. (It's the Bible folks, there's always gonna be a problem.) Seems that Moses' T zone is totally oily and his face is shining like greased up bodybuilder. You'd think that after traveling in the desert for years with each other--with no running water or toilets or deodorants or food that doesn't fall from the sky--oily skin would be the least of your worries. But Moses is so embarrassed that he wears a veil to cover the shine, which he only removes when communing with the lord. The Israelites huddle outside the closed-door meeting, and the only sound they can make out is God sniggering and snorting at Moses' slippery skin. "I can see my face in your skin," God taunts. "Too bad you're not allowed to see mine!"

Moses then tells his people all the wonderful things God has commanded them to do. The Israelites try to pay attention, they really do, but they are distracted by the sun reflecting off the oily sheen on Moses' face. Embarrassed, Moses immediately pulls down the veil. I know that his stuttering issue has made him overly sensitive, but really Moses, the veil is just drawing more attention to the skin thing, don't you think? Now everyone's imagination is going wild wondering what's wrong with Moses. Is he an Elephant Man? Does he have gin blossoms? An eyebrow ring? A face tattoo? Could be anything. They’re so busy talking they completely miss the recitation of the New Ten Commandments, which explains why no one was ever heard of them until now.

Exodus 30, 31, 32

Moses is running out of paper to write all of these instructions down, but God isn't done yet. He wants Moses to make something else: an altar for burning incense. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say it's made of shittim wood and is--of course--slathered in gold. Aaron is to burn sweet incense--duh--in the incense altar whenever he meets with God in the tabernacle.

The children also have some work to do, because everyone over 20 owes half a shekel as "a ransom for his soul unto the Lord," which is to be used for the general upkeep of the tabernacle. That gold isn't going to buy itself, people. Every Israelite, rich or poor, owes the same amount, which really makes the ransom a regressive tax. No wonder conservatives love the Bible so much.

Moses also has to make a small basin out of brass for Aaron and his sons to wash their hands and feet in before entering the tabernacle. Then he has to concoct a smelly oil and basically go on an anointing jag, smearing the stuff on absolutely everything: the tabernacle, the ark, the table, the candlestick, the altar for the burnt offerings, Aaron himself and his sons. Moses might as well just fill a tub and flea dip everything in sight. It would be quicker.

But there's a catch: if anyone makes counterfeit oil or smears the OG oil on a stranger, he will be exiled forever. The punishment seems out of proportion to the crime, but hey, it's the Bible.

Moses also needs to make a perfume, which I assume will be spritzed inside the tabernacle to mask the stench of burned ram's horns and dyed badger skins that have been baking in the desert sun. And don't even think about spraying some on passersby in Macy's or you'll be exiled too.

But before Moses leaves the mountaintop, God gives him the Ten Commandments written on two stone tablets and reminds him of the most important commandment of all: keep holy the Sabbath. "If there's one takeaway from all of this, Moses, it's don't forget about me," God says. "Got it? I'm numero uno, right? Forget that and you're toast. Comprende?"

"You got it," Moses says. "Everyone knows that you're the boss. Who could ever forget that?"

Here's what Moses didn't know: while he was on the mountaintop for 40 days and nights, the Israelites were getting a tad antsy. Without their leader and his God around they went--bear with me; I'm going to get a bit technical here--"batshit crazy." They approached Aaron with their desire to simply create some new gods to fill the 40-day-long void they've been living through. Aaron, having served as the mouthpiece for Moses and the chief magician behind the plaques, and after having seen what God can do to those who oppose Him, loses his mind and thinks that this is an excellent idea.

Aaron commands the people to give him the jewelry they had "borrowed" from the Egyptians before they escaped to the desert, which he melts down and casts into a golden calf  for everyone to worship. He even builds it an altar for the idol. Wait until you see the expression on Aaron's face when he learns about all the awesome clothes he would've gotten to wear if he hadn't just royally pissed of the one true God!

God, as you may have learned from the countless times He's said how psychopathically jealous He is, is just a little miffed about the golden calf. Moses, amazingly, is able to talk God off the ledge, but when he himself sees the people dancing naked around the graven idol he throws the stone tablets at them and grinds the golden calf into a fine powder, pours water over it, and forces everyone to drink it, Jim Jones style.

Aaron, in a manner befitting most people when they get caught making graven idols, claims that he really had nothing at all to do with that thing, what is it? A calf? How did that get here? "Hey," Aaron says, looking a lot like Gilbert Gottfried, "you know the Israelites, am I right? They're up to mischief all the time! They gave me their gold and I threw it in the fire and it came out looking like a calf. Can you imagine such a thing?"

Moses, still peeved, stands by the gates of the camp and demands to know who among them is on the side of Lord. Only the sons of Levi step up. So Moses has really one choice, which is to have the sons of Levi kill three thousand people who worshipped the idol. Three thousand! He then goes back up the mountain--for a much shorter period, I'm sure--and begs God to forgive the people, and if He can't find it in Himself to forgive everyone then He should feel free to simply punish Moses for everyone's actions. Uncharacteristically, God declines Moses' kind offer of misplaced punishment and decides to just plague everyone who worshipped the idol instead. Not sure how many that is, considering that they were just murdered.

  

God finishes up by telling Moses to get back to what's left of the Israelites and continue following the angel of God through the desert, because it's totally going great so far.

Exodus 28, 29

God loves His new tabernacle. The cherubic curtains, the compass-pointed furniture, the ornate ark, the crowns, and all of it gilded! It's tacky-beautiful, like a McMansion on The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

God names Aaron--Moses' mouthpiece brother, in case you've forgotten--and his sons as special envoys to the word of God and dictates a crazy and highly specific dress code for them. The only place you'd ever see anyone wearing a getup like this is at burning man, and even then you'd think the dude was nuts. 

The outfit sounds easy enough: a breastplate, an ephod, a robe, an embroidered coat, a miter, and a girdle. That sounds doable, right? But it turns out that this outfit is the worst Project Runway challenge yet. 

Let's take each piece at a time:

The Ephod: Woven out of "blue, and purple, and scarlet"--again, whatever the hell that is--fine linen, and of course, gold. It goes over one's shoulders, like a poncho, and sports a girdle made of the same material. On the shoulders, set in gold sockets, are two onyx stones, each engraved with six names of the children of Israel. Attach two gold chains to the sockets and you're done!

The Breastplate: Called "the breastplate of judgment," it's worn over the heart and made of the same stuff as the ephod. It sports four rows of three stones, each one engraved with the name of one of the 12 tribes of Israel. The first row consists of a sardius, a topaz, and a carbuncle, which is not a weeping abscess but this; the second row should be an emerald, a sapphire, and a diamond; the third a ligure (maybe this?), an agate, and an amethyst; and the last a beryl, an onyx, and a jasper. The whole thing is attached to the ephod in a complicated lattice of gold chains and blue lace. I'm sure Velcro would have worked just as well. The breastplate also contains the Urim and Thummim. I don't have all day, so read more about it here. 

The Robe: It's blue, should have a hole in the top--presumably for one's head--with a nice edge so it can't be torn. At the hem should be an alternating pattern of pomegranates and golden bells so that the mice can Aaron when he tries to sneak up on them. 

The Miter: You've seen a miter; it's the post-hole-digger hat the pope wears. But on the front of this one is a gold plate, trimmed in blue lace, engraved with the words “Holiness to the Lord” that acts as a proxy for the iniquity of the children of Israel.

The Coat: Pretty straightforward: it's made of linen.

The Girdle: Made of needlework. Nowadays you can substitute Spanx.

If you put it all together, it looks like this:

Sweet, right? But that's just for Aaron. His sons get coats, girdles, and bonnets "for glory and beauty." Sounds like someone is trying a little too hard to sell them on the bonnets.

But, you may be asking, isn't there something missing? You bet there is: pants. God wants Aaron and his sons to wear pants, not trusting them, I suppose to figure that one out for themselves. 

Now that everyone's suited up, it's time to get all hallowed. As you can imagine it involves smearing oil and the blood of bulls and rams all over Aaron and his sons and burning the animals as an offering and waving bread and meat at the Lord. Or as the Israelites call it, a typical Saturday night. 

Exodus 26, 27

Moses, eager to get to work on the ark and the table and the candlesticks, is handed some home ec tasks: God wants him to make curtains. Ten serious friggin' curtains with cherubim on them, which I again must stress are absolutely totally not graven images even though they totally seem like they are.

Each curtain must be eight and twenty cubits long and four cubits wide. That's 42 feet by six feet! That's a tall curtain. Once all ten curtains are finished Moses needs to sew five of them together and make two very large curtains. Placed at the top of each of these giant curtains are 50 loops and 50 clasps. These curtains comprise the tabernacle.

But wait! Moses has to make 11 more curtains to cover the tabernacle, this time out of goat hair, and this time 45 feet by 6 feet! That's a lot of goats for a group of people wandering around the desert eating bread dropped from the sky. Again Mo has to create two giant panels—one consisting of five of the goat hair curtains and the other of six goat hair curtains, with the sixth panel acting as the front flap for the tabernacle—with 50 more loops and clasps. 

Now get this: God wants Moses to make another covering for the two previous curtain tents he's already made! Out of ram and badger skins! Dyed red! Unfortunately, badgers are not indigenous to Egypt and the surrounding deserts so Mo and Co have a big road trip ahead of them. 

Just as Moses is trying to get all the dye off his hands he finds out he still has to build an enormous fence-like thing out of shittim wood, which is a name I totally did not make up. And this fence-thing is complicated. Each 15-by-two-and-a-quarter-foot long board has to be made in two parts that fit together with a tenon joint. The north and south sides of the tabernacle's four sides needs to be made out of 20 boards—each. That means the sides are 300 by 45 feet! And on each board are two sockets made of silver. God knows why.

After that, this tabernacle thing goes into overdrive. The west side needs two different walls, and weird corner walls, and there are bars inside that stretch from end to end. And of course all the boards must be layered in gold. Why even bother mentioning that? Rule of thumb: when making something for God just cover the damn thing in gold.

So when the tabernacle is finished, Moses hangs up the curtains with the cherubims on them, then the goat-and-badger hair curtains, then maybe that other curtain that's been dyed red, although the Bible doesn't really say so exactly, and then he fetches the ark and puts the mercy seat on it, and then there's the table, which is placed on the south side of the tabernacle, and the candlestick, which is placed on the south side of the north-side-placed table, and then Moses has to make a door hanger and five pillars and an altar. After all this Moses still has to make an altar!

The altar is just as complicated as the tabernacle. It's seven and half feet square and four and a half feet tall, with brass horns at the corners, with a pit for burning offerings and tons of tools, all of which should be made of brass. Around the altar is a court consisting of 20 pillars covered with an obscene number of brass sockets and silver hooks on which are hung tapestries that are 150 feet long. But there's still more: there's stuff for west side, southwest side, middle-east, rich house, dog house, outhouse, old folks house, house for unwed mothers, halfway homes, catacombs, twilight zones. All that's missing are techniques, turntables, and gramophones! 

And you know what? God's not even done yet! The next few chapters deal with what kind of clothes everyone should wear when they enter the tabernacle and which kind of animals should be sacrificed and the best ways to sacrifice them. All in all, more time will be spent on the proper way to gild shittim wood than was spent detailing how we should avoid killing each other. No wonder the world's so fucked up.

Exodus 24, 25

Moses, it turns out, was alone when God dictated the laws in he previous three chapters. No surprise there. When your having hallucinations, it's best to be by yourself. And Moses forgot to bring a pen, so he has to re-make everything up when he gets back to the Israelites.

After climbing down the mountain and quickly jotting down some notes, Moses tells everyone what God "said" on the mountain. The Israelites agree to abide by God's laws and then build an altar, make a burnt offering, sprinkle blood on the altar, and then head off to make some mischief against a widow.

Moses, Aaron, and a bunch of extras head back to the mountain, where God tells Moses he's going to give him a stone tablets with all the rules written on them. Not just the Ten Commandments but everything that He said. "You could've just given me those a couple of days ago, you know," Moses says.

Moses climbs the mountain--alone, again--and is stranded in fog for six days. On the seventh day, God calls to him. 

"Marco!" says God.

"Who?" says Moses.

"Just come over here, will you? Jesus."

Moses follows the sound of God's voice and stays on the mountain for forty days and nights--more than enough time to chisel all that crap onto those tablets himself.

But before God gives Moses the tablets He once again demands an offering from the people of Israel, one so detailed and anal it makes Martha Stewart look like Gary Busey. Here's the shopping list: gold, silver, and brass; something described only as "blue, and purple, and scarlet;" fine linen, goats' hair dyed red, badgers' skin, shittim wood, oil, spices for the oil, incense, and onyx stones. Sounds like someone's looking to give Ru Paul a run for his money.

But first, Moses needs to make a sanctuary, which includes creating an ark almost four feet long, a little over two feet wide, and about two feet tall that is dripping with gold. The ark absolutely needs a gold crown. And four gold rings. In the corners. Right there. A little to the left. Now to the right. Now to the left again. Perfect. And stick some wooden poles in the rings, so it's, you know, easy to carry. But cover the sticks with gold first. God wants it lookin' classy. And whatever you do, don't take those sticks out of the rings. Then, again out of gold, make a mercy seat--which is not only just a fancy term for a lid but the greatest band name ever. 

And facing each other on the opposite ends of the lid should be two cherubims--which are absolutely totally no way in hell graven images, no siree Bob! Their wings should be long enough to stretch out and cover the lid. Then into the ark goes the stone tablets, so one day they be stored in a large government warehouse after being rescued from the Nazis.

Moses gets ready to go to Home Depot when God drops more on his plate: how about making a table, overlaid with gold? And another gold crown, this one as the centerpiece? And four more gold rings and wooden poles--covered in gold, of course--to cart the table around. 

Oh, how about dishes and spoons and bowls and a candlestick, all made of pure gold? But wait, there's more. The candlestick is ridiculous: in addition to the main shaft there should six branches, with little bowls at the top that look like almonds--almonds! But it's even more complicated than that. See if you can figure out what the hell this candlestick is supposed to look like:

"And six branches shall come out of the sides of it; three branches of the candlestick out of the one side, and three branches of the candlestick out of the other side: Three bowls made like unto almonds, with a knop and a flower in one branch; and three bowls made like almonds in the other branch, with a knop and a flower: so in the six branches that come out of the candlestick. And in the candlesticks shall be four bowls made like unto almonds, with their knops and their flowers. And there shall be a knop under two branches of the same, and a knop under two branches of the same, and a knop under two branches of the same, according to the six branches that proceed out of the candlestick. Their knops and their branches shall be of the same: all it shall be one beaten work of pure gold."

Moses shakes his head and asks God, "Can't I just pick one up at Pottery Barn?"

Exodus 22, 23

What kind of restitution should a thief make for his acts of thievery? I'm glad you asked. It's an important question. And again, the answer has a lot to do with oxen. Here's the short version: “For any kind of trespass, whether it concerns an ox, a donkey, a sheep, or clothing, or for any kind of lost thing which another claims to be his, the cause of both parties shall come before the judges; and whomever the judges condemn shall pay double to his neighbor." Boom! I just saved you the mindspace needed to remember how much anyone owes you for taking your stuff. Someone steal your iPad? Then you get two iPads! Someone steal your dignity? Then you get two dignities, minus court fees!

From there, things take a left turn, as we cover seemingly random acts of mischief.

Any man who gets the milk for free has to buy the cow, if you catch my drift. And her father has to pay the dowry as if she were a virgin! Win-win for the dude!

You should kill all witches. That's obvious.

The following is a short list of things for which you will be put to death:

• Fucking an animal

• Sacrificing to a god other than God 

• Troubling or oppressing a stranger, a widow, or an orphan

And don't even think of asking for repayment of a loan to the poor. Which means it's not really a loan, now is it? More like a gift.

Also: "Thou shalt not revile the gods, no curse the ruler of thy people." Again with gods--lowercase, plural. And now we can't curse out the president? How will Fox News ever survive?

Don't lie.  

If you see your enemy's ox--seriously, what's with the preoccupation with oxen?--going astray you should bring it back to him. 

Don't take gifts, "for the gift blindeth the wise, and perverteth the words of the righteous." It's the ultimate war on Christmas before there was even a Christmas.

If you're a farmer, every seventh year you should let your field lie fallow. 

Three times a year you should hold a feast for God. Bring your appetite, because there can't be any leftovers. And whatever you do, don't cook a goat in its mother's milk. It's just insulting to the goat.

Because these are big feasts, God will provide a bouncer: a pissed-off angel who absolutely will not take your complaints about the service. At some point in the festivities, the angel--let's call him Dale--will lead the partygoers on a raid of neighboring cities to destroy all of their gods and overthrow their governments. Which proves that whoever wrote this thing didn't bother to read the previous pages where the Israelites were forbidden to oppress people.

And then God promises to make all of Israel's enemies run in fear. I wonder how well that's worked out?

Exodus 21

After God ensures that upskirt shots of Moses will never make their way onto Reddit, He clarifies what He meant by the Ten Commandments. Consider the next few chapters God's Federalist Papers. First up: when to free slaves, how to deal with violence, and more than I think is necessary on the proper punishment of aggressive oxen.

Slaves
If one buys a Hebrew, the Hebrew can serve for only six years; on the seventh he must go free. If he was single when he was bought, he leaves a bachelor; if he was married when he was bought, the ball and chain leaves with him. But if is master married him off while he was enslaved and he had children, the wife and kids belong to the master and the guy has to leave alone, presumably without having to pay alimony or child support. If, for some crazy reason, the slave decides not to leave because he loves his wife and children, then his master gets to poke a hole in his ear with an awl. And he has to serve the master for the rest of his life. At least he won't have to hear his wife complain about being a slave anymore.

If man sells his daughter to be maidservant, and her new master decides to marry her, she can be redeemed. How is not mentioned. But I'm sure it has nothing to do with porn. But if her master instead resells her to a foreign nation, he has no say in what happens to her. Which I'm sure has a lot to do with porn.

If the lucky girl is married off to her master's son then she is dealt with like any of his daughters, which, as we have seen, is not that great of deal. If her master has done none of these things and maybe just treated her like any old slave then she gets to go free. Without any money, which, of course, is basically the definition of slavery.

Violence
If you kill someone--which, as you know from the previous chapter, you should totally never do, but sometimes shit happens--then you shall be put to death. Unless God delivered the victim to you, in which case the Big G will set you up with fake papers and a place to crash. But if you kill your parents Menendez brothers–style then you'll be put to death. No word on what happens to you if God delivers your parents to you.

If you get into a fight and hit the other guy on the head with a stone and he survives you need to pay his hospital bills and workman's comp.

If you kill your servant then you will be punished, most probably lightly, unless the servant lingers for a day or two, in which case you get off scot free.

If you harm a pregnant woman and she loses the baby the woman's husband gets to decide your punishment, which is obviously completely fair.

And here is where one of the Bible's most famous passages appears: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If any "mischief" occurs after the woman has already lost her baby and the abuser has been punished for the crime according to the husband's will, only then should the punishment fit the crime: "you shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe." Unless you take out a servant's eye or tooth, in which case you get to keep your body parts but the servant goes free. No word on what would happen if you poke out a pregnant woman's eye.

Oxen
The rest of the chapter busies itself with mean oxen. In a nutshell: if you own an ox with a predilection for goring people, then that ox will definitely be stoned to death. So if I were you I'd sell all of my oxen right now, just to be on the safe side.

Exodus 20

Now comes the good part. The Ten Commandments! A nice number, ten. Roundish, final-sounding. Great for list-making and ranking the relative attractiveness of strangers.

God leads with the obvious: that He is the one who led the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt, and because of that he should receive a World's Greatest Diety mug for His birthday. And again God admits in the First Commandment that there are other gods lying around: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." Not that there are no other gods but god, but that there are no other gods that are better than God. Big difference.

Next, God admits his fatal flaw, namely that he's a wee bit jealous. "Tell me something I don't know," Moses says, rolling his eyes.

"Ok, smartass," God says. "You're not getting into the promised land!"

Because God has the hormones of  a spiteful tween, He doesn't want the Israelites to bow down to or worship any graven image, which Webster's defines as an object of worship carved usually from wood or stone. God has a pretty inclusive list of what constitutes a graven image: "[A]ny likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth." That basically covers it all. I wonder, then, what God thinks of all those people who every Sunday kneel before statues of his dead Son or of Mary? Or before all the saints? Or before Big Mouth Billy Bass? He must hate that.

Commandment three is simple: Don't say "God" in vain, which is in an irreverent or blasphemous manner. So no saying "goddammit" or "God, I love those shoes" or "Oh my God, a little to the left, yeah right there, right there, oh fuck oh God oh God I;m coming!"

Four is simple, too: don't work on the Sabbath, because God created everything in six days and took a breather on the seventh. So depending if you think God clocked in on Sunday or Monday, your Sabbath is either Saturday or Sunday. And no one can perform any work, not even animals, and certainly not strangers that happen to be around you. Which means I'm going to hell for flicking those light switches for my Jewish neighbors for all those years.

And now that I'm a parent I firmly believe that the Fifth Commandment--honor thy mother and father--is due for a comeback, especially when it's time for the kids to clean their rooms. Enough with the sassmouth! God demands that you put your books away, and now, or you won't get any desert!

The final five commandments are relatively straightforward pleas for decency, basically covering social interactions and community harmony, which explains why they're never followed:

• Thou shalt not kill--unless another country really has it coming, or someone breaks into your house, or you're defending yourself or another person, or the guy has it coming because he killed someone already

• Thou shalt not commit adultery--unless you're not really getting along with your spouse and she doesn't love you anymore anyway and you're basically separated already

•  Thou shalt not steal--unless you're drunk, and then it's cool to take those underpants and that roll of Wintergreen Lifesavers, the kind that sparks when you bite 'em

• Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour--unless it gets you out of trouble or saves you from being embarrassed or is just really more convenient than telling the truth, especially if a friend asks you to read his first novel

•  Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour's--unless he just bought something cool like the new Xbox or his ass is spectacular 

Funny thing is that none of the Israelites seem to have actually heard any of this, mainly because the mountain was smoking, there was thunder and lightning, and someone was blowing a trumpet, and it scared the shit out of them. "Speak thou with us," they say to Moses, "and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die."

"But God already said everything," Moses says. "Didn't you just hear that? Am I the only one who heard all that?"

The crowd backs away even father.

Moses begs for them to come back to the mountain but they refuse, so God says fuck it and instructs Moses to have His people build an altar--but not one made of stone and not one with steps because someone might get a clear view of your bullocks when you're up there worshiping.

Which gives me an idea for an Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt wear clean underwear.