Previously on the Chosen People. Songs for deliverance fell upon the dust and pitch they worked in.

Desperately they sang to their God, appealing the promises he made their ancestors.

The stars above seemed fixed in their indifference, and the Nile flowed on, dark and unyielding.

And yet, in the hearts of Aaron and Miriam, a flicker of hope remained,

for they knew that somewhere, beyond the veil of the scene and the unseen,

beyond the power of pharaohs and the gods of Egypt, there was a God who listened,

a God who remembered.

Moses.

He turned a final corner and stopped, his breath stolen from his lungs. Before him was a tree, but not as any

tree he had ever seen. It was engulfed in flames, a great burning bush that flared with a fierce

unnatural fire. Here I am. I have seen the affliction of my people in Egypt.

I have heard their cries and beheld their suffering.

I have come to deliver them out of slavery and carry them to a land of promise.

A vast and vibrant land teeming with life.

A land flowing with milk and honey.

So you will still send me?

Take the staff in your hands and go.

Go and behold my wonders.

I shall be with you.

And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the flame vanished, leaving nothing but the cool,

empty air of the canyon.

Moses was left standing alone, his heart heavy with both awe and dread.

...