Our guide for this adventure is Flavius Josephus, the first-century Romano-Jewish scholar and historian, and the story comes from his work, Against Apion. This book is essentially a defense of Judaism against its detractors, and Apion is one of the most egregious among them.
Josephus has already dismantled many of Apion's claims, showing quite convincingly "that our fathers were not originally Egyptians, nor were thence expelled, either on account of bodily diseases, or any other calamities of that sort." But Apion, bless his heart, just keeps digging.
Now, Apion, in his third book, which is supposed to be about Egypt, makes this pronouncement: "I have heard of the ancient men of Egypt, that Moses was of Heliopolis." Okay, that's a start. He goes on to say that Moses supposedly followed the customs of his ancestors, praying towards the city walls, but then cleverly reoriented everyone to pray towards sunrise, because, you know, Heliopolis was all about the sun. Then, get this, Moses set up these pillars, like ancient sundials, with boat-shaped cavities where the shadows would fall, mimicking the sun's path.
Josephus is having none of it. "This is that wonderful relation which we have given us by this grammarian," he says, dripping with sarcasm. He points out the obvious: Moses, in building the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, didn't include any of this sun-worshipping paraphernalia. And neither did Solomon, centuries later, when he built the Temple in Jerusalem. No pillars, no boat cavities, no sun-dials.
But Apion doesn't stop there. He claims that Moses was from Heliopolis because, well, "being a younger man himself, he believed those that by their elder age were acquainted and conversed with him." Josephus just throws his hands up. This is the guy who can't even figure out where Homer or Pythagoras were from, yet he's an expert on Moses, who lived ages before them?
Then comes the kicker: the timeline. Apion, in a stroke of historical genius (or utter madness), places the Exodus in the seventh Olympiad, the same year Carthage was founded. He thinks this adds credibility. It doesn't. Josephus gleefully points out that the Phoenician records show King Hirom, a contemporary of Solomon and a key figure in building the Jerusalem Temple, lived over 150 years before Carthage was even built. And Solomon's Temple was built 612 years after the Exodus. So, Apion's timeline is, shall we say, a little off.
And the numbers! Apion, echoing Lysimachus, claims 110,000 Jews were expelled from Egypt. And then he gives us the most bizarre etymology of "Sabbath" you've ever heard. According to Apion, after six days of travel, the Jews all developed "buboes in their groins" (ouch!), and that's why they rested on the seventh day. He even claims the Egyptians called this ailment "Sabbatosis," hence the name "Sabbath."
Josephus can barely contain his laughter. "And would not a man now laugh at this fellow's trifling, or rather hate his impudence in writing thus?" He rightly argues that even a group of sick and lame people couldn’t have traveled for six days. And even if they could travel through the desert, why would they all develop the same ailment? It's absurd!
But the absurdity doesn't end there. Apion claims Moses went up Mount Sinai, "which lay between Egypt and Arabia," and stayed there for forty days, receiving the Law. But wait, if the Jews reached Judea in just six days, how could Moses have spent forty days on Sinai in between? The geography just doesn't work.
And finally, the linguistic cherry on top: Apion claims "Sabbo" (the supposed Egyptian word for "bubo") is related to "Sabbath." Josephus patiently explains that "Sabbo" and "Sabbath" are completely different words with completely different meanings. Shabbat (Sabbath) in Hebrew means "rest from all sorts of work."
So what are we to make of all this? Apion's account is a mess of historical inaccuracies, geographical impossibilities, and linguistic nonsense. But beyond the humor, there's a serious point here. Josephus is defending the integrity of Jewish history and tradition against those who would distort and denigrate it. He's reminding us that truth matters, and that we have a responsibility to challenge falsehoods, no matter how ridiculous they may seem. And perhaps, in our own time, that's a lesson worth remembering.