Well, sir, many a year ago--even before barbed wire and windmills--there was a
gent named Moses. He lived a long way from these parts. And the Lord God told Moses
to form a wagon train and to lead the Israelites from a country called Egypt to a country
called Canaan.
So they hitched their teams to their wagons and lit a shuck for that land. Gossip had it that the land was flowin' to the brim with milk and honey. Along the way, though, they got into a scrap or two.
For example, there was the time when Moses done hiked his ownself up on a mountain sorta like Pike's Peak. Only the locals called it Sinai. And whilst Moses was up there palaverin' with Jehovah for 40 days and 40 nights, things got plumb out of hand back in his camp.
What happened was that Aaron, the brother of Moses and the ramrod of the outfit, got bored silly just sittin' around doin' nothin' but pickin' his teeth with his Bowie knife. I reckon he was sufferin' from cabin fever. Shoot, I've spent a few winters in isolated line camps so I know 'bout how he musta felt. He finally convinced himself that Moses was not just delayed but that he weren't never comin' back.
So Aaron come up with this hair-brained scheme of makin' a gold calf. That ol' boy may have spent too much time readin' old copies of the Farmer-Stockman magazine or some such. But whatever it was, he gathered the folks together and made a speech that woulda make most any politician mighty proud. He told them folks what to do to relieve the boredom and they flat jumped up and did it.
What ol' Aaron said was, "Y'all listen up, 'cause I ain't gonna say this twiced. Take off them there gold earrings that yore wives, yore sons and yore daughters are wearin' and bring 'em to me." And, lo and behold, they shucked that jewelry like an overcoat in July.
Then Aaron took all them gold pieces and put 'em in a big ol' iron pot. He placed a bunch of mesquite logs under the pot and melted the jewelry down to one big mess of pure gold. And then, usin' some sort of mold, he made his self a gold calf about the size of a yearlin'.
So far, so good. At least I reckon there wasn't nothin wrong with makin' one big piece of jewelry out of thousands of smaller pieces. And near as I can figger, the Lord didn't get bent out of shape when Aaron told the folks that the next day they were goin' to have a real shindig, a festival. Here in the Southwest that means a barbecue and bootscootin' to some Bob Wills music, and I reckon that was 'bout all Aaron had in mind.
Somethin' went plumb haywire the next day. They had their barbecue, all right. They ate all the baby-back ribs they could stand. And they washed it down with tubs of iced tea. And then it happened. The Bible says them folks got off their backsides and "got up to indulge in revelry". Yes sir, it says that in Exodus 32:6.
Now, I ain't perxactly sure what "revelry" means. But I do know this: The good Lord didn't want them folks doin' it. And, lo and behold, here they was justa a revelatin' to beat the band.
What happened, brethren and sistern, is that this bunch bowed down before that golden calf and began to worship it. Now, I know quite a few ranch folks that have plastic-type molten calves that they use for practicing their team ropin skills. And as dirt-dumb as some of my ropin' buddies are, I ain't never seen nary a one bow down and start worshippin' no calf. Imitation or real. It ain't the cowboy way.
Well, boys, the Lord God took one look down there at that calf-worshippin' crowd and started to put a pox on 'em. He said, "Moses, those yahoos are a mighty stiff-necked people. Move outta the way so I can zap 'em right in their tracks."
If'n I 'd been Moses, I'd have headed for the hills at a full gallop. But Moses loved their ornary hides and managed to talk the Lord out of stompin' 'em like stinkbugs. Reckon Moses had been a horse trader or a used chariot salesman in the past, 'cause he talked and he talked until he got the Lord to give 'em another chance.
Then the Good Book says that Moses went down off that big ol' mountain. In his hands he was carryin' the Ten Commandments on two slabs of rock. He didn't get within a country mile of the campground when he heard "the sound of singing", accordin' to Exodus 32:18. It is safe to say that bunch wasn't singin' "This Little Light of Mine" or "When The Saints Go Marching In". They was singing' and praisin' that lump of gold in the image of a doggone calf.
So ol' Moses, hearing that noise and seeing that gold calf, he figgers out what in tarnation was goin' on. He stomped in there and put an end to that foolishness. He beat that calf down into ground round. And then he turned to Aaron and said, "All right, brother, how come you led these folks into such a terrible sin?"
Brother Aaron, like a lot of us when we're confronted with our mistakes, he sorta puffed-up and said, "You know how prone these folks are to sin. They asked me to make a god for 'em. But all I did was tell 'em to donate their earrings and stuff. Fact is I just threw that gold into the fire and, bingo, out come that full-growed gold calf, pretty as you please. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it."
Why is it, dear brethren and sistren, that even church folks today fight so hard to keep from ownin' up to their sins? Oncest in a blue moon you'll hear a sinner come right out and say, "Yes, I done wrong. Bad wrong. And I'm wrong and I wanta change, with God's help." Instead, you hear church-sinners and other-sinners moan and groan with such pitiful excuses as, "I'm not to blame 'cause my parents done warped my personality." Or "I'm just a victim of my environment."
Folks, Moses didn't buy Aaron's excuses. And I reckon Jehovah God can see plumb through our lame excuses, too. So when we sin, let's just admit it and repent and get on to livin' the best kinda lives we can. That's the cowboy way. And it's sure 'nuff the Christian way.
Amen and amen.