Watch this on Rumble: https://rumble.com/v73xhvy-part-two-examination-of-exodus-ethiopian-tewahedo-orthodox-and-king-james.html
Synopsis
Exodus is where God’s power is no longer quiet. What was spoken in the beginning now moves into history through confrontation, deliverance, judgment, and covenant. This is the book where believers first learn how God uses power when oppression stands in the way of life.
Two ancient records preserve this account. They tell the same story of slavery, calling, signs, escape, and encounter. God hears the cry of the oppressed in both. He acts in both. Yet the way His actions are voiced can shape whether power is heard as justice exercised with restraint or as anger unleashed without measure.
This is not an examination of why God acted, nor an attempt to explain His intent. It is an accounting of language. Line by line, the words of Exodus are placed beside themselves to see whether differences in phrasing alter how God’s strength, patience, and authority are heard by the believer.
Most of Exodus stands in clear agreement. God delivers. God confronts false power. God forms covenant. But certain verses carry weight far beyond their length. How hearts are hardened, how plagues are described, how fear is named, and how commands are spoken can either preserve trust or quietly teach dread.
What follows is not accusation and not defense. It is witness. The words are allowed to stand as they are, so that believers may know whether the God revealed through power is the same God who declares Himself merciful and slow to anger, or whether translation has allowed fear to speak louder than faith.
Breaking News
Tonight’s field of headlines, dated Sunday, January 4, 2026, continues the same unmistakable pattern: pressure on governments, pressure on currencies, pressure on energy and movement, and pressure on speech. This is the stage where systems stop experimenting and begin enforcing, and where populations are quietly conditioned to accept tightening control as the price of stability.
The most strategically important story tonight remains Venezuela, where diplomatic pressure, sanctions enforcement, and regional military signaling continue to intensify. In new world order terms, Venezuela is not being rushed toward resolution because instability serves leverage. Resource-rich nations that resist dominant financial alignment are rarely allowed to normalize on their own terms. For the children of God, discernment means praying for the Venezuelan people without mistaking geopolitical coercion for moral intervention. Scripture calls for justice and mercy, not applause for power.
Iran is again drawing attention as economic strain, currency weakness, and internal dissatisfaction continue to provoke sharper rhetoric from Western leaders. In new world order terms, this is the familiar path where domestic hardship is framed as an international security concern, creating moral permission for escalation. For the children of God, the warning is to resist emotional alignment with war language. Compassion for suffering civilians must never turn into enthusiasm for violence dressed up as righteousness.
Financial markets opened the week uneasy, with investors still clustering around a narrow band of technology and AI-linked stocks while broader confidence remains thin. In new world order terms, this reflects a system increasingly dependent on a few “pillar” industries to project strength, even as underlying economic stress persists. For God’s people, the lesson is sobriety. Wealth that demands constant intervention to survive is already revealing its fragility.
The U.S. dollar continues to show instability following last year’s decline, reinforcing how central currency control is to global order. In new world order terms, volatility fuels the argument for tighter coordination, new settlement mechanisms, and greater oversight in the name of resilience. For the children of God, discernment asks what freedoms are quietly being traded for predictability, and whether trust has shifted from God’s provision to financial engineering.
In Europe, governments are advancing expanded security and safety regulations following recent public tragedies and threats. In new world order terms, emergencies remain the fastest path to normalization of surveillance and compliance regimes. For God’s people, compassion for victims must come first, but clarity must follow. Safety should protect life without conditioning societies to surrender liberty indefinitely.
Energy remains a central pressure point, as policy uncertainty and geopolitical maneuvering continue to drive volatility. In new world order terms, energy is no longer just supply and demand; it is leverage. Control energy, and behavior follows. For the children of God, this is a reminder to pursue stewardship and simplicity, and to avoid dependency on systems that require constant external stability to maintain peace.
Migration pressure continues across multiple regions, even as coverage ebbs and flows. In new world order terms, mass movement destabilizes societies emotionally, then justifies expanded governance to manage the fallout. Human suffering becomes the mechanism. For Christians, the call remains narrow but clear: care for the stranger while refusing narratives that exploit pain to consolidate power.
Cultural conflict is intensifying again, particularly around speech, belief, and moral boundaries. In new world order terms, this is not primarily about tolerance but about compliance. A population uncertain of what it is allowed to say or believe becomes easier to govern. For the children of God, this is a season for quiet courage, where truth is held without aggression and obedience is chosen over approval.
Environmental policy continues its shift from aspiration to enforcement, with reporting standards and compliance mechanisms embedding themselves into trade, insurance, and finance. In new world order terms, standards are becoming law without borders. For God’s people, discernment means honoring stewardship while resisting systems that use creation care as justification for controlling conscience and livelihood.
Finally, the most subtle headline tonight is psychological. Fatigue is deepening. People are tired of warnings, tired of outrage, tired of waiting. In new world order terms, exhaustion is not a side effect but a tool, because weary populations outsource thinking and accept management. For the children of God, this is where rest becomes resistance. Peace anchored in Christ is not withdrawal; it is stability that cannot be shaken.
Taken together, tonight’s headlines again point in one direction: consolidation through pressure. For the children of God, the response does not change—clarity without fear, compassion without manipulation, and faith that remains steady while the systems of the age tighten around themselves.
Monologue
I did not approach Exodus looking for violence, and I did not read it searching for excuses. I read it the same way I read Genesis, slowly, carefully, and in full, in both the Ethiopian Tewahedo Orthodox record and the King James Bible. What I found was not a different story, and it was not a different God. Deliverance, confrontation, covenant, and mercy are present in both.
Exodus is where God’s power becomes visible in the open. Slavery is named, cries are heard, authority is challenged, and history is forced to move. This is the book where believers first learn how God responds when injustice hardens into system and suffering becomes normalized. Because of that, the way power is described matters deeply to the heart.
Most of Exodus aligns clearly between the two records. God hears the oppressed. God sends a deliverer. God confronts Pharaoh. God brings His people out. Covenant is formed, and identity is restored. Any honest reader would recognize the same foundation standing underneath both traditions.
This episode exists because of a smaller and more delicate finding. In certain verses, the wording itself changes how God’s power sounds when read devotionally. Not by removing justice, not by denying authority, but by shaping tone. In some places, power sounds restrained and purposeful. In others, it can sound volatile, absolute, or frightening, depending on how a sentence is carried into English.
I am not asking whether God was justified in His actions. I am not explaining why plagues occurred or why judgment fell. I am asking a simpler question that matters to believers. When these words are read aloud, does God sound like a deliverer dismantling oppression, or like a ruler unleashing wrath? Does His power teach trust, or does it quietly teach fear?
What follows is not interpretation layered onto the text. It is testimony drawn from comparison. The same verses will be placed beside each other. Where the words match, they will be left alone. Where they differ, the difference will be allowed to stand without commentary or accusation. No motives will be assigned, and no conclusions will be forced.
Exodus contains one of the clearest declarations of God’s character in all of Scripture. He names Himself as merciful, slow to anger, and faithful. If earlier language ever competes with that declaration in the ear of the believer, it matters. Not because God has changed, but because words shape how He is heard.
This is not an argument against Scripture. It is an act of care for those who learned to fear God in the place where they were meant to learn to trust Him as a deliverer. Power does not have to sound cruel to be real, and justice does not require terror to be effective. Exodus deserves to be heard with the same restraint and mercy that God declares about Himself.
Part 1
God’s movement in Exodus begins not with force, but with attention. Before commands, before signs, before judgment, God speaks about what He has seen and heard. This is the first measure of divine power in the book, and it teaches believers what provokes God to act.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 3:7 reads:
“And the LORD said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows.”
The sentence is strong and declarative. God sees, hears, and knows. Yet the phrasing can sound momentary, as though recognition arrives at a decisive point in time rather than existing continuously. The language emphasizes certainty, but not duration.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same verse reads:
“And the Lord said, I have seen the suffering of my people who are in Egypt, and I have heard their cry because of those who oppress them; I know well their pain.”
The difference is subtle but meaningful. “Suffering” and “those who oppress them” preserve an ongoing condition rather than a single event. “I know well their pain” carries familiarity rather than formal recognition. God’s knowledge sounds intimate, not newly registered.
The distinction becomes clearer in the following verse. The King James continues in Exodus 3:8:
“And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land…”
The action sounds decisive and immediate, as though God’s presence begins at the moment of intervention. Deliverance feels triggered, even though it is purposeful.
The Ethiopian record renders the same moment as:
“And I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up from that land…”
The phrase “have come down” carries continuity rather than sudden arrival. Rescue sounds relational rather than procedural. God’s action feels like fulfillment of care already present, not a response initiated by threshold.
Both texts affirm the same truth. God sees. God hears. God delivers. Nothing about His justice or power changes. What differs is how His attention is heard. One version can sound like recognition leading to action. The other sounds like presence leading to rescue.
For believers who live with unanswered prayer, this difference matters. A God who “comes down” only when suffering peaks can feel delayed. A God who has been seeing and knowing all along feels steady, even while action waits.
Exodus opens by teaching why God intervenes. He does not act because He is provoked into anger. He acts because suffering has been seen, known, and held within His awareness. How that awareness is voiced determines whether divine power feels reactive or dependable.
Before Pharaoh is confronted, before power is displayed, God affirms the dignity of those who suffer. The way that affirmation is spoken becomes the lens through which every later act of judgment will be heard.
Part 2
The next verse where wording carries decisive weight is where God gives His name in response to human fear. This is not a philosophical exchange. It happens because Moses anticipates resistance and asks how God is to be spoken of among the people. How God names Himself here teaches believers what kind of presence stands behind divine authority.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 3:14 reads:
“And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.”
The phrase is absolute and self-contained. Read devotionally, it can sound sealed and inaccessible, emphasizing being in itself. God’s authority is unmistakable, but the wording can leave the sense of distance—power that is true yet untouchable.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same verse reads:
“And God said to Moses, I AM THE ONE WHO IS, and He said, Thus you shall say to the children of Israel, THE ONE WHO IS has sent me to you.”
The difference is small in form but meaningful in effect. “The One who is” preserves continuity rather than enclosure. Being is presented as ongoing presence rather than closed declaration. God’s name sounds stable and faithful rather than abstract.
The effect becomes clearer when the next verse is heard. The King James continues in Exodus 3:15:
“And God said moreover unto Moses, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, The LORD God of your fathers… hath sent me unto you: this is my name for ever.”
The emphasis rests on permanence and authority. The name is fixed, eternal, and commanding.
The Ethiopian record renders the same line as:
“And God said again to Moses, Thus you shall say to the children of Israel, The Lord God of your fathers… has sent me to you. This is my name forever.”
Here the permanence remains, but the tone is less sealed. The name sounds carried forward in relationship rather than standing apart as untouchable essence.
Both records affirm the same truth. God is self-existent. God is unchanging. God is the source of authority. Nothing is softened or removed. What differs is how that authority is heard in the ear of the believer.
“I AM THAT I AM” can sound like a wall—true, immovable, and beyond approach. “The One who is” sounds like ground—stable, present, and reliable. Both are faithful renderings, but they do not land the same way in the heart.
This matters because this name governs the rest of Exodus. A God who introduces Himself as inaccessible essence can be feared even when delivering. A God who introduces Himself as abiding presence can be trusted when power is exercised.
Nothing here diminishes holiness. The question is whether holiness is heard as separation or as constancy. Exodus teaches believers how to speak God’s name under pressure, and that lesson is set here, by the way being itself is voiced.
Part 3
The next verse carries some of the heaviest theological and emotional weight in all of Exodus because it touches the question of human agency under divine power. How this line is heard determines whether God is understood as permitting rebellion or producing it.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 4:21 records God saying:
“And the LORD said unto Moses, When thou goest to return into Egypt, see that thou do all those wonders before Pharaoh, which I have put in thine hand: but I will harden his heart, that he shall not let the people go.”
Read devotionally, the sentence is direct and forceful. God speaks as the active agent of Pharaoh’s resistance. The wording can sound as though God initiates hardness in order to bring about judgment, raising the unsettling implication that resistance is compelled rather than chosen.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same verse reads:
“And the Lord said to Moses, When you return to Egypt, see that you do before Pharaoh all the signs which I have placed in your hand; but I will allow his heart to be hardened, so that he will not let the people go.”
The difference is decisive. Resistance still occurs. Pharaoh still refuses. Judgment still follows. But agency is preserved. God does not introduce hardness; He permits it. The heart moves toward its own end without divine coercion.
This distinction matters because it shapes how believers understand God’s sovereignty. In the King James wording, sovereignty can sound like override. In the Ethiopian wording, sovereignty sounds like restraint. God governs the outcome without corrupting the moral source.
Both records agree that Pharaoh is responsible and that oppression must end. Nothing here softens judgment or excuses injustice. What differs is whether God is heard as manufacturing rebellion or allowing rebellion to reveal itself fully.
For believers, this verse quietly teaches whether God ever needs to violate human will to accomplish deliverance. If God hardens hearts directly, fear can arise that obedience or rebellion might be imposed rather than chosen. If God allows hearts to harden, judgment remains deserved and power remains clean.
This verse sets the tone for everything that follows. The plagues, the escalation, and the collapse of Egypt’s power are all interpreted through this line. Whether those acts feel like staged punishment or unveiled justice depends on how this sentence is heard.
Exodus does not require a God who engineers resistance in order to defeat it. The Ethiopian wording preserves a God who allows evil to exhaust itself under restraint. That single shift preserves trust without diminishing authority, and it begins here, with how one verb is carried into English.
Part 4
The next divergence appears when Moses returns to God after obedience seems to have made everything worse. This moment matters because it shows how God responds when His own servant voices confusion, frustration, and grief. The way this exchange is worded teaches believers whether questioning God places them in danger or keeps them in relationship.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 5:22–23 reads:
“And Moses returned unto the LORD, and said, Lord, wherefore hast thou so evil entreated this people? why is it that thou hast sent me?
For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in thy name, he hath done evil to this people; neither hast thou delivered thy people at all.”
The language is sharp and confrontational. Phrases like “evil entreated” and “neither hast thou delivered” can sound accusatory. Read devotionally, the exchange can feel tense, as though Moses is crossing a line by speaking this plainly.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same passage reads:
“And Moses returned to the Lord and said, My Lord, why have You allowed trouble to come upon this people? Why did You send me?
For since I went to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has increased the suffering of this people, and You have not yet delivered Your people.”
The difference is subtle but important. “Allowed trouble” replaces “evil entreated.” “Not yet delivered” replaces “neither hast thou delivered at all.” The Ethiopian wording preserves lament without accusation. Time and process remain visible, rather than collapse into blame.
This distinction matters because it shapes how believers understand honesty before God. In the King James wording, Moses can sound as though he is charging God with wrongdoing. In the Ethiopian wording, Moses sounds like one who is grieving delay while still trusting purpose.
Both records affirm the same reality. Pharaoh’s oppression increases. Deliverance has not yet occurred. Moses is distressed. Nothing about the facts changes. What changes is the emotional posture of the exchange.
For believers, this verse quietly teaches whether doubt must be hidden or can be spoken. If God is heard as being confronted, fear of reprisal can enter prayer. If God is heard as receiving lament, prayer remains open even in confusion.
God’s response in the following verses does not rebuke Moses in either record. Deliverance continues. But the way Moses’ words are voiced determines whether believers believe they are permitted to speak honestly when obedience does not immediately bear fruit.
This moment anchors the rest of Exodus emotionally. Power is about to escalate. Judgment will intensify. How God treats questioning here determines whether His power feels relational or distant when it arrives.
Part 5
The plagues are the point where God’s power is most often misunderstood, because they are read as acts of raw force rather than as targeted judgments against an oppressive system. How these actions are described teaches believers whether divine power is volatile or deliberate.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 7:3–5 frames the escalation this way:
“And I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and multiply my signs and my wonders in the land of Egypt.
But Pharaoh shall not hearken unto you, that I may lay my hand upon Egypt, and bring forth mine armies…
And the Egyptians shall know that I am the LORD, when I stretch forth mine hand upon Egypt.”
The language is heavy with force. God lays His hand upon Egypt. Signs and wonders multiply. When read devotionally, the repetition of physical imagery can sound like rising wrath being applied to a nation as an object.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same movement is rendered with a different emphasis:
“I will allow Pharaoh’s heart to be strong, and I will increase My signs and wonders in the land of Egypt.
Pharaoh will not listen to you, and I will act against Egypt, and bring My people out…
And the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, when I reveal My power in Egypt.”
The actions remain decisive. Egypt is confronted. Deliverance still requires judgment. But the emphasis shifts from physical striking to revelation and exposure. Power is shown, not unleashed. Egypt comes to know the Lord not because it is battered, but because its false authority collapses under truth.
This distinction matters because it shapes how believers hear the purpose of judgment. In the King James wording, judgment can feel like force applied to compel recognition. In the Ethiopian wording, judgment feels like truth revealed that makes false power unsustainable.
The same difference appears repeatedly throughout the plague narratives. In the King James, verbs such as “smote,” “plagued,” and “destroyed” dominate the sound of the text. In the Ethiopian record, the plagues are consistently tied to undoing what Egypt trusted—its river, its crops, its order, and its gods.
Both records agree that the plagues increase in severity and that Pharaoh is warned repeatedly. Nothing about the seriousness of judgment is reduced. What differs is whether the reader hears escalation as anger or as method.
For believers, this section quietly teaches whether God’s power grows more dangerous when resisted, or whether resistance simply reveals the depth of what must be dismantled. One reading can instill fear of provocation. The other preserves trust that God’s power is measured even when firm.
The plagues are not presented to glorify destruction. They are presented to end oppression. How that ending is voiced determines whether believers learn to fear God’s strength or to trust His justice when systems refuse to release what they have enslaved.
Part 6
This moment sits at the intersection of judgment and mercy, and it teaches believers how God distinguishes His people in the midst of power exercised against oppression. The way this passage is worded determines whether God is heard as needing appeasement or as actively protecting those who belong to Him.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 12:12–13 reads:
“For I will pass through the land of Egypt this night, and will smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the LORD.
And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt.”
The language is force-heavy. God smites, judgment is executed, and destruction is avoided because a token is seen. Read devotionally, the sequence can sound transactional, as though blood diverts violence that would otherwise fall indiscriminately.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same passage reads:
“For I will pass through the land of Egypt on that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from man to beast, and against all the gods of Egypt I will bring judgment; I am the Lord.
And the blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you are, and when I see the blood, I will protect you, and the blow shall not come upon you to destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.”
The events are identical. Judgment occurs. The gods of Egypt are confronted. The firstborn die. What changes is the function of the blood. In the Ethiopian wording, the blood does not divert danger; it marks belonging and triggers protection. The emphasis moves from avoidance to guardianship.
This distinction matters because it shapes how believers understand God’s posture toward His own people. In the King James wording, safety can sound conditional, as though violence must be narrowly escaped. In the Ethiopian wording, safety sounds intentional, as though God knows exactly where His people are and acts accordingly.
Both records affirm that judgment is real and that deliverance comes at cost. Nothing is softened. What differs is whether God’s power feels dangerous even to those He is saving, or whether it feels precise and discerning.
For believers, this passage often becomes a lens for understanding later ideas of salvation and sacrifice. If blood is heard primarily as appeasement, faith can feel like hiding from wrath. If blood is heard as sign and covering, faith feels like standing under protection.
Exodus does not present a God who lashes out and then spares those who meet a requirement. It presents a God who distinguishes, guards, and delivers His people while dismantling the power that enslaved them. How that distinction is voiced determines whether believers learn fear or trust at the very heart of redemption.
Part 7
The crossing of the sea is the moment where deliverance and destruction occur together. How this event is voiced teaches believers whether God’s power is reckless in victory or restrained even while decisive. This scene becomes the emotional memory of salvation itself.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 14:13–14 records Moses saying:
“Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will shew to you to day: for the Egyptians whom ye have seen to day, ye shall see them again no more for ever.
The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.”
The language is forceful and final. The emphasis rests on the enemy’s complete erasure and on God as a warrior who fights on behalf of His people. Read devotionally, the moment can sound as though victory is defined primarily by the destruction of the pursuer.
Later, the King James describes the outcome in Exodus 14:27–28:
“And the LORD overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of the sea… there remained not so much as one of them.”
The focus remains on total defeat. Deliverance and destruction are tightly bound together in the sound of the text.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, Exodus 14:13–14 reads:
“Do not be afraid. Stand firm and see the deliverance of the Lord, which He will accomplish for you today. As for the Egyptians whom you see today, you will not see them again.
The Lord will act on your behalf, and you shall remain at rest.”
The difference is subtle but important. “The Lord will act on your behalf” replaces “the Lord shall fight for you.” “Remain at rest” replaces “hold your peace.” The emphasis shifts from combat imagery to assurance and protection.
The outcome is described similarly in the Ethiopian record, but with restraint in tone:
“The waters returned and covered the chariots and the horsemen… not one of them remained.”
The fact is the same. The army is destroyed. What differs is how the event is framed. In the Ethiopian wording, destruction is stated, not emphasized. The focus remains on deliverance accomplished rather than enemies erased.
This distinction matters because this moment teaches believers what salvation feels like. In the King James wording, salvation can sound inseparable from violent triumph. In the Ethiopian wording, salvation sounds like decisive rescue, with destruction appearing as consequence rather than centerpiece.
Both records affirm God’s authority and power. Nothing is softened. Oppression does not survive. What differs is whether victory teaches fear of God’s strength or trust in God’s protection.
For believers, this passage often becomes the template for understanding how God intervenes in crisis. Does He save by overwhelming force that leaves devastation behind, or does He save by creating a way through danger while danger collapses under its own pursuit?
The sea closes because Egypt follows where it was not meant to go. Deliverance is not achieved by God delighting in destruction, but by God making a path that only the redeemed were meant to walk. How that truth is voiced determines whether believers carry this moment as terror remembered or freedom secured.
Part 8
The encounter at Sinai is where fear enters the biblical vocabulary in a public and defining way. How fear is voiced here determines whether holiness is heard as terror or as awe, and that distinction will follow a believer for life.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 19:16 reads:
“And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled.”
The emphasis lands heavily on sensory overwhelm. Thunder, lightning, cloud, trumpet, and trembling are stacked tightly together. Read devotionally, the verse can sound as though fear itself is the intended outcome of God’s presence.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same verse reads:
“On the third day, when morning came, there were sounds and flashes of light, and a dense cloud upon the mountain, and the sound of the trumpet was very strong; the people stood in reverent fear within the camp.”
The signs remain. Nothing is softened or removed. But the final phrase shifts the posture. Fear is present, yet it is described as reverent, not paralyzing. The people do not merely tremble; they stand within order.
This difference matters because fear is being taught here. In the King James wording, fear can sound like involuntary terror produced by overwhelming force. In the Ethiopian wording, fear functions as recognition of holiness rather than loss of control.
Later in the same encounter, the King James records:
“And mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the LORD descended upon it in fire… and the whole mount quaked greatly.” (Exod. 19:18)
The Ethiopian record reads:
“Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord descended upon it in fire… and the mountain responded with great shaking.”
Here again, the event is identical, but the posture differs. One sounds like chaos imposed. The other sounds like creation responding to presence.
This distinction shapes whether believers learn that God’s holiness destabilizes humanity, or whether it teaches that holiness is overwhelming yet ordered. Both preserve God’s power. Only one preserves approachability without diminishing reverence.
Sinai is not meant to teach terror. It is meant to teach gravity. When fear is voiced as reverence, obedience grows from trust. When fear is voiced as panic, obedience grows from self-protection.
The difference is not in the fire, the cloud, or the trumpet. It is in how fear itself is named.
Part 9
The next passage determines how believers hear God’s authority once deliverance has already occurred. This is the moment where freedom is given structure, and the way the commands are voiced teaches whether obedience is meant to preserve life or enforce control.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 20:1–3 reads:
“And God spake all these words, saying, I am the LORD thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.
Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”
The declaration of deliverance is present, but it is followed immediately by prohibition language. Read devotionally, the transition can feel abrupt, as though authority now asserts itself through restriction. For some believers, this can sound like freedom being replaced by law.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo record, the same opening reads:
“And God spoke all these words, saying, I am the Lord your God, who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery. You shall not place other gods before Me.”
The commands are the same, but the phrasing preserves a slightly different posture. “Place” rather than “have” frames the command as guarding order rather than suppressing desire. The tone feels instructional rather than prohibitive.
This difference becomes more evident as the commandments continue. In the King James, the repeated “thou shalt not” forms a legal rhythm that can sound absolute and forbidding when read aloud in sequence. Authority feels heavy, even though the content is life-preserving.
In the Ethiopian record, the prohibitions remain, but the cadence feels less juridical. The commands sound like boundaries spoken within covenant rather than statutes imposed after deliverance. Structure follows freedom, not replaces it.
This distinction matters because these words form the moral foundation of faith for millions. If commands are heard primarily as restriction, obedience can feel burdensome. If commands are heard as preservation of freedom already given, obedience feels protective.
Both records affirm that God gives the law after deliverance, not before. Nothing changes about the order of events. What differs is how the listener hears God’s voice while giving instruction.
For believers, this passage teaches whether God rescues people in order to rule them harshly, or whether He rescues people in order to give them a way to remain free. The Ethiopian wording preserves the sense that covenant is a gift that sustains liberation.
Exodus does not move from mercy to control. It moves from rescue to order. How that movement is voiced determines whether believers hear God’s authority as a burden or as a safeguard placed around a freedom that was already won.
Part 10
The final verse examined is where God speaks about Himself in His own words. This moment matters because it is not narrated by Moses, filtered through action, or inferred from judgment. God directly names His character. Whatever Exodus teaches about power, justice, and authority must be measured against this declaration.
In the King James Bible, Exodus 34:6–7 reads:
“And the LORD passed by before him, and proclaimed, The LORD, The LORD God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children’s children, unto the third and to the fourth generation.”
The sentence is densely packed. Mercy and forgiveness are named clearly, but they sit tightly beside language of inherited consequence. Read devotionally, the closing phrase can linger heavily, sometimes overshadowing the earlier declaration of mercy.
In the Ethiopian Tewahedo Orthodox record, the same passage reads:
“And the Lord passed before him and proclaimed, The Lord, the Lord God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, rich in mercy and faithfulness, preserving mercy for thousands, forgiving wrongdoing, transgression, and sin; yet He does not ignore injustice, bringing the consequences of wrongdoing upon generations.”
The content is the same. Justice is not removed. Accountability remains. What differs is the balance of emphasis. Mercy is preserved as the dominant trait, while justice is framed as consequence rather than threat. The wording does not compress mercy and judgment into the same breath in a way that competes for the listener’s attention.
This difference matters because this is the verse believers return to when trying to understand who God truly is. If mercy and punishment are heard as equal and simultaneous forces, fear can overshadow trust. If mercy is heard as God’s primary self-description and justice as His necessary response to injustice, coherence is preserved.
Both records affirm that God forgives and that wrongdoing has consequences. Nothing is softened. What differs is how God’s heart is allowed to remain visible while justice is still upheld.
This verse retroactively interprets the entire book. Plagues, judgments, signs, and commands must all align with the God who describes Himself as merciful and slow to anger. Where earlier language risks sounding harsh, this declaration clarifies intent.
Exodus does not end with power unexplained. It ends with God explaining Himself. How that explanation is voiced determines whether believers walk away fearing His strength or trusting His restraint.
When God tells us who He is, translation must not compete with that testimony. This final declaration stands as the measure by which every act of power in Exodus must be heard, and it confirms that justice was never divorced from mercy at any point in the story.
Conclusion
Exodus does not reveal a different God than Genesis. It reveals the same God acting in a louder world. Power enters history, oppression is confronted, and freedom is secured. What this examination shows is not a conflict of stories, but a difference in how power is heard through language.
Across both records, the events remain intact. God hears the cry of the oppressed. God delivers His people. God judges false power. God forms covenant. Nothing essential is removed, denied, or rewritten. The divergence appears in tone, emphasis, and posture—especially where power, judgment, and fear are involved.
When wording leans toward force, believers can quietly learn to associate God’s authority with volatility. When wording preserves restraint, sequence, and consequence, believers learn to associate God’s authority with justice governed by purpose. Both readings affirm holiness, but they do not teach the heart the same way.
This comparison does not accuse translators of malice, nor does it claim that Scripture was corrupted to invent a cruel God. It simply acknowledges that language shaped under empire and language preserved outside empire do not always carry power the same way. That difference matters when believers form their understanding of who God is under pressure.
Exodus itself resolves the question. God does not leave His character open to interpretation. He names Himself as merciful, slow to anger, and faithful, even while affirming justice. Any reading of plagues, judgment, or command that competes with that self-description must be heard carefully.
What emerges from this examination is not fear, but coherence. God’s power does not contradict His mercy. His judgments do not eclipse His care. When the words preserve that balance, trust grows. When the words compress it, fear can take root without being noticed.
This is why examining language matters. Believers do not meet God in abstraction. They meet Him through words. Exodus reminds us that power can be exercised without cruelty, authority without domination, and judgment without abandonment. When Scripture is heard this way, faith is steadied rather than strained.
The work continues. The question remains the same for every book that follows: do the words handed to believers faithfully carry the God who reveals Himself as He is, or do they quietly teach something else along the way.
Bibliography
- The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. The Ethiopian Bible (Tewahedo Canon). Translated from Geʽez into English. Unpublished working translation used for comparative textual analysis in this series.
- The Holy Bible. The King James Version. Authorized Version. London: Robert Barker, 1611. Standard modern reprint.
- Charles, R. H. The Ethiopic Version of the Old Testament. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1895.
- Knibb, Michael A. The Ethiopic Text of Exodus. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999.
- Metzger, Bruce M. The Text of the Old Testament: Its Transmission, Corruption, and Restoration. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992.
- Tov, Emanuel. Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible. 3rd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2012.
- Würthwein, Ernst. The Text of the Old Testament: An Introduction to the Biblia Hebraica. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995.
- Rogerson, J. W. Old Testament Criticism in the Nineteenth Century. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984.
- Barr, James. The Semantics of Biblical Language. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1961.
Endnotes
- Exodus 3:7–8. The Holy Bible, King James Version (London: Robert Barker, 1611), Exod. 3:7–8; Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, The Ethiopian Bible (Tewahedo Canon), trans. from Geʽez (unpublished working translation), Exod. 3:7–8. These verses establish God’s awareness of suffering and the motive for intervention, with tonal differences between declarative recognition and continuous presence.
- Exodus 3:14–15. KJV, Exod. 3:14–15; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 3:14–15. The contrast between “I AM THAT I AM” and “The One Who Is” reflects differing emphases in English rendering, affecting whether God’s self-identification is heard as abstract essence or abiding presence.
- Exodus 4:21. KJV, Exod. 4:21; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 4:21. The distinction between God actively “hardening” Pharaoh’s heart and God “allowing” the heart to be hardened directly affects perceptions of divine sovereignty and human agency.
- Exodus 5:22–23. KJV, Exod. 5:22–23; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 5:22–23. Differences in wording shape whether Moses’ speech is heard as accusation or lament, and whether delay in deliverance is framed as failure or process.
- Exodus 7:3–5. KJV, Exod. 7:3–5; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 7:3–5. Variations in verbs describing God’s actions against Egypt influence whether judgment is heard as force applied or authority revealed.
- Exodus 12:12–13. KJV, Exod. 12:12–13; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 12:12–13. The function of the blood as “token” versus “sign” affects whether deliverance is perceived as appeasement of wrath or as protective distinction.
- Exodus 14:13–14, 27–28. KJV, Exod. 14:13–14, 27–28; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 14:13–14, 27–28. The framing of God’s intervention at the sea shapes whether deliverance is remembered primarily through destruction of the enemy or preservation of the redeemed.
- Exodus 19:16–20. KJV, Exod. 19:16–20; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 19:16–20. Differences in fear language affect whether holiness is heard as terror-producing or awe-invoking within ordered boundaries.
- Exodus 20:1–17. KJV, Exod. 20:1–17; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 20:1–17. The cadence and phrasing of commandments influence whether covenant law is heard as restrictive control or as structure preserving freedom.
- Exodus 34:6–7. KJV, Exod. 34:6–7; Ethiopian Bible, Exod. 34:6–7. God’s self-description functions as the interpretive anchor of Exodus, with wording differences affecting whether mercy or judgment dominates the listener’s perception.
- Bruce M. Metzger, The Text of the Old Testament: Its Transmission, Corruption, and Restoration, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 35–56. Provides historical context for how translation traditions shape tone without altering narrative events.
- Emanuel Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 3rd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2012), 23–41. Consulted for methodological grounding in comparing textual witnesses without assigning intent or motive.
- Michael A. Knibb, The Ethiopic Text of Exodus (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999), 1–22. Used for background on Ethiopic transmission and translation philosophy relevant to Exodus.
#Exodus #EthiopianBible #TewahedoOrthodox #KingJamesBible #BiblicalTranslation #Geʽez #ScriptureComparison #BiblicalDiscernment #GodsCharacter #FaithWithoutFear #BibleStudy #ChristianPodcast #AncientScripture #BiblicalJustice
Exodus, Ethiopian Bible, Tewahedo Orthodox, King James Bible, Biblical Translation, Geʽez, Scripture Comparison, God’s Character, Faith Without Fear, Biblical Justice