New Cameroon Views Blog

The Commandments

Moses and his Journey with the Biblical Laws

A Satire

PROLOGUE

Before the mountain burned, humanity had already heard whispers of law.

Not laws carved in stone, nor decrees proclaimed by kings, but the quiet voice that lived within every heart—the instinct that recoiled from murder, condemned betrayal, honored truth, and sought justice. Across deserts and rivers, in cities of brick and kingdoms of bronze, people sensed that life was governed by an order greater than their own desires.

Yet that knowledge was fragmentary, like stars scattered across a night sky.

Generations rose and fell. Empires conquered and were conquered. Men built monuments to their greatness and called themselves gods. Rulers forged laws to preserve power rather than righteousness. The strong preyed upon the weak, and wisdom was often drowned beneath ambition, fear, and violence.

The world possessed strength, but lacked direction.

Then, in a wilderness far removed from the halls of power, a people wandered beneath the relentless sun. They were former slaves carrying memories of chains and dreams of freedom. They owned no kingdom, commanded no armies, and possessed no wealth worthy of envy. Yet among them unfolded an event that would echo through ages yet unborn.

A mountain trembled.

Cloud and fire descended.

And from within the mystery came a voice, unlike any heard before—a voice that did not merely command but revealed the very foundations upon which human existence could stand.

The commandments that emerged from Sinai were not intended as burdens. They were given as pillars. They defined the boundaries within which freedom could flourish and communities could endure. They spoke of devotion, truth, honor, restraint, justice, and reverence. They called humanity not merely to obedience, but to transformation.

Yet words engraved upon stone could not change the world on their own.

The commandments required witnesses.

They required a people willing to embody them, generation after generation, through prosperity and suffering alike. They required guardians who would carry the divine trust across deserts, kingdoms, oceans, and centuries. For what began at Sinai was never meant to remain there. The message was destined to travel beyond one camp, beyond one nation, beyond one era.

This is the story of that mission.

It is the story of a covenant entrusted to mortal hands and of the long search for those willing to bear its weight. It is the story of how ten sacred commandments survived rebellion, exile, conquest, and time itself, shaping civilizations and calling countless souls back to a higher path.

For while the stone tablets belonged to a moment in history, the truths they carried belonged to every age.

And as one man descended a mountain with fire-hidden words pressed against his side, the destiny of those truths—and of humanity itself—was only beginning.

CHAPTER ONE

MOSES, bearded and leaning on his staff, descends the slopes of Sinai. Under one arm he carries two stone tablets that glow with a faint, residual fire, as though the mountain’s summit still burns within the rock itself. His face is set with determination, yet lined with a weariness that reaches deeper than the long ascent. He knew he was carrying far more than etched foundational Ten Commandments. He was carrying a divine covenant and a commission.

The laws inscribed upon the stone were never meant for a single tribe or a single generation. They were given to light a path for all humanity—principles of justice, restraint, and reverence that could order life itself. Yet the God who spoke from the cloud had set before Moses an extraordinary mission: to find a people willing to become the living guardians of these truths. Through their obedience and example, the divine words were to pass beyond the wilderness and take root among the nations. Thus Moses walked, tablets pressed against his side, toward a camp still trembling from the thunder of the mountain. The mission had begun.

Moses understood immediately that the burden would not be light.

People rarely welcomed new obligations. They embraced promises, rewards, and victories with enthusiasm, but commandments were different. Commandments demanded sacrifice. They imposed limits. They required discipline. Human beings had never been fond of such things.

Nevertheless, Moses set out.

His journey first brought him to the ancient lands of India, where sages, scholars, ascetics, and holy men had spent centuries searching for the deepest truths of existence. The prophet reasoned that if any civilization might appreciate divine law, surely it would be one so devoted to spiritual inquiry.

After many days of travel, he stood before a gathering of respected gurus and elders beneath the shade of enormous banyan trees whose roots seemed almost as ancient as the earth itself.

The elders welcomed the traveler courteously.

"Peace be upon you, stranger," said the oldest among them. "What brings you to our land?"

Moses carefully placed the tablets before them.

"I bring the commandments of the Lord Almighty," he said. "I seek a people willing to become their custodians."

The elders exchanged curious glances.

A thoughtful silence fell over the gathering before one of them finally spoke.

"What is a commandment?"

Moses smiled politely.

"A commandment is a divine law—an instruction given by God Himself. Those who honor these laws earn God Almighty’s favor and blessing. Those who reject them do so at their peril."

The gurus leaned toward one another, whispering among themselves.

At length, the eldest returned his attention to Moses.

"Would you be so kind as to read these laws to us?"

Moses nodded and began.

He read each commandment carefully, his voice steady and authoritative. The elders listened with great concentration. They did not interrupt with a question or a debate. They simply absorbed every word.

When he reached the final commandment, Moses lifted his eyes from the tablets.

The gathering remained silent.

At last, the eldest guru cleared his throat.

"These laws possess considerable wisdom," he said thoughtfully. "We find much to admire in them."

Moses felt a flicker of hope.

"Then you will accept them?"

The old man smiled gently.

"There is, unfortunately, one difficulty."

"What difficulty?"

"The first commandment."

Moses frowned.

"'You shall have no other gods before Me,'" the guru recited.

"Yes."

The elder folded his hands.

"If your God would graciously permit us to keep a few of our existing gods alongside Him, I believe we could reach an agreement."

A ripple of approval moved through the assembly.

Moses stared in disbelief.

"A few?"

"Only several hundred," another guru offered helpfully.

Laughter erupted among the elders.

Moses remained unmoved.

"That is impossible," he replied. "The commandments are not a collection from which one may select favored items. They are a covenant. They stand or fall together."

The gurus consulted among themselves again.

After several minutes, the eldest spokesman turned back to the prophet.

"You place us in a difficult position."

"I place you in no position," Moses answered. "God does."

"Perhaps," the guru conceded. "Yet consider our concern. The world is vast. Its sorrows are endless. Famines, floods, wars, droughts, epidemics, and countless human miseries unfold every day. We have always assumed that many gods were necessary because the workload is so immense."

Several heads nodded solemnly.

The guru continued.

"If all responsibility rests upon a single deity, would that not be an excessive burden? Surely even a god deserves assistance."

The assembly murmured in agreement.

"Indeed," another elder added. "If our multitude of gods still struggles to solve every problem, how can one unseen God manage the affairs of all mankind?"

Moses launched into a vigorous defense of monotheism.

For hours he argued.

He spoke of divine unity, of omnipotence, of the nature of creation itself. He quoted revelation. He appealed to reason. He employed every argument he possessed.

The gurus listened respectfully.

They admired his conviction.

Some even admired his courage.

But the longer the discussion continued, the clearer it became that neither side was likely to persuade the other.

At last, as the afternoon sun dipped toward the horizon and long shadows stretched across the gathering place, Moses fell silent.

He looked upon the faces before him and recognized a truth that every missionary, reformer, prophet, and revolutionary eventually discovers:

People do not merely inherit beliefs. They inherit worlds.

And worlds are not easily surrendered.

Slowly, Moses lifted the tablets.

He bowed his head in gratitude for the hospitality he had received.

Then he turned to leave.

For a brief moment disappointment touched his heart. Yet it did not linger.

The mission entrusted to him was far too important to abandon after a single setback.

Somewhere, he believed, there must be a people willing to embrace both the blessings and the burdens of God's law.

And so, carrying the tablets once more, Moses resumed his journey into the unknown—still hopeful, still determined, and no less convinced that his search had only just begun.

That night, Moses dreamed of a rugged, seafaring people inhabiting a mist-shrouded island at the edge of the world. He woke convinced the dream was a divine mandate. Without hesitation, he set sail that very day, driven by an unyielding resolve to find the future custodians of the Ten Commandments.

When his vessel finally touched the shores of southern Britain, the welcoming warmth of the locals persuaded him that his journey had reached its destined end.

Seated at a crude wooden table over a meal of roasted beef, George, the chieftain of the tribe, fixed him with a gruff, assessing stare.

"What brings you to our shores?" George demanded, tearing into his meat. "What could you possibly have that would interest us?"

"Divine laws," Moses replied steadily, "that will elevate your people to greatness—if you accept them, integrate them into your society, and compel others to follow."

"Tell us about these laws," George growled.

Moses did. He laid out the foundational pillars of moral order, speaking with the authority of Sinai, until he reached the final stricture.

"What was the last one?" George asked, his voice dropping to a rough rumble.

Reciting the text carefully, Moses told the chieftain and his gathered advisers, "You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant, or his maidservant, or his ox, or his ass, or anything that is your neighbor's."

George slammed his hand against the table.

"Ah. Mr. Moses," the chieftain scoffed, a dark amusement crossing his weathered face. "One of our seers prophesied long ago that the children of this island would one day control the world—an empire upon which the sun would never set. He foretold that our descendants would master the art of turning the sweat of foreign nations into our own profit, making us the wealthiest lords on earth."

George leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "How are we to realize those prophecies without coveting the things that others possess?"

"You can achieve greatness through righteousness," Moses urged. "It is simple. All you have to do is—"

"Save your breath, Mr. Moses," George interrupted with a wave of his meaty hand. "Tell your God to strike out that particular commandment, and we will happily take His laws to every corner of the globe our future empire chooses to conquer."

"George, that cannot be done," Moses said, his voice tightening with exasperation. "It is a complete, indivisible package."

The chieftain shrugged, entirely unbothered. "Then I am sorry to tell you we must decline your God’s terms. Don't be disheartened, poor chap. Perhaps our rivals across the Channel might be interested in what you're selling."

"Thank you for the candor," Moses replied, standing up straight. "I will take my leave."

With a stiff handshake shared with the chieftain and his men, Moses gathered his belongings and walked back out to the tide, leaving the island—and its imperial destiny—behind.

CHAPTER TWO

A week later, Moses arrived in the land of the Gauls, the ancestors of the people who would one day become the French.

The journey had been long, but his determination remained intact. The Indians had listened politely and rejected the commandments on theological grounds. It was disappointing, but understandable. Every civilization viewed the world through the lens of its own traditions, and every people believed their understanding of reality to be the correct one.

Still, Moses remained hopeful.

The ruler of the Gauls received him with great ceremony.

The banquet hall blazed with torchlight. Long wooden tables groaned under the weight of roasted game, fresh bread, fragrant cheeses, and overflowing goblets of wine. Musicians filled the air with lively melodies while servants moved gracefully among the guests.

At the center sat Charles, the chieftain.

He was a broad-shouldered man with a booming voice and a laugh that seemed capable of rattling the rafters.

As a young servant refilled his goblet, Charles playfully tapped her on the hip and flashed her a grin. The woman rolled her eyes and continued on her way while the hall erupted in laughter.

"I am told," Charles said, raising his cup, "that you have brought something capable of making my people more civilized, more powerful, and perhaps even immortal in song."

Moses cleared his throat.

"In a sense, yes."

Charles leaned forward.

"Now I am intrigued."

"I carry the commandments of the Almighty God. They are divine laws intended to guide nations toward righteousness and secure God's favor."

The chief raised an eyebrow.

"You are serious?"

"Entirely."

"Then read them to me before I become distracted by the beautiful creatures serving this feast."

A ripple of laughter spread around the table.

Moses produced the stone tablets and started reading.

The hall gradually grew quieter.