It appears that, in speaking of what is happening, the writer deliberately restrains himself so as not to give way to emotion. No lists are used. Only the simplest descriptions are given, capable of awakening a response in every person's soul. Fire, blood, an oath, a pillar of smoke and a mountain, the people remaining at the foot, and Moses going away for forty days to speak with God. The deliberate lack of emotion in this most powerful experience works more strongly than any cries, groans, and sighs. The picture is clear. Before us stands the majesty of fire that consumes sin and of the Eternal Covenant between God and His chosen people.

The covenant between God and His people is made in such a way that its terms are clear to everyone and evident to all. The Torah was read aloud in the presence of representatives of all twelve tribes; everyone heard everything that was read, and everyone present promised to keep the terms of the covenant-union. Now the situation was changing radically compared with the previous era.

Before, one could always appeal to the leader: he, the leader, was responsible for everything, including relations with God, while an ordinary person could consider himself free of responsibility. This was not simply a desire to shift that responsibility onto the leader's shoulders, since in fact God at that time revealed Himself and revealed His will precisely to leaders, who were supposed to pass it on to their fellow tribesmen. Now everything was different.

The commandments had been read aloud; everyone had heard them. There were only ten of them, and anyone could remember a text like that. Of course, not everyone could appreciate their full depth; not everyone understood the Decalogue as a description of the spiritual path, and such understanding really required time. But everyone at all times understood the minimum. God calls a person to account according to that person's understanding, so each one answered before Him to the extent that the meaning of the commandments was clear to him.

Something else was important: now among God's people there was no one left who could honestly say that God's will was unknown to him. Not everyone had the experience of personal communion with God, but the minimum was known to everyone. Here, of course, we must speak specifically about minimum requirements: the Decalogue, understood as a moral code, did not set a very high spiritual ceiling for a person. And yet this minimum was known to everyone. It was a kind of foundation, a necessary condition for the further spiritual path and for spiritual life in general.

Many limited themselves to this foundation alone, since there have never been many people who were looking specifically for a conscious spiritual path. Yet even such a minimum, such a foundation, was still important: at the very least it kept a person from becoming a monster. Now, after the covenant-union was made at Sinai, no one could honestly say that he had not known that becoming a monster was wrong. This is a minimum, but a necessary minimum, and it is still better than nothing.