Where did Moses receive the ten commandments?

What follows is one scholar’s way of reading this disagreement — a critical-historical view that often concludes the texts genuinely disagree. It draws on the peer-reviewed sources listed below and stands as one position among the answers above, presented for transparency, not as GEBible’s position.

How critical scholarship weighs this: Widely regarded as a genuine contradiction

This summarizes where critical scholarship tends to land on this tension — a report on the field’s center of gravity, not GEBible’s own ruling.

The mountain of revelation bears two names. Exodus, Leviticus, and Nehemiah call it Sinai (Exod 31:18; 34:4, 32; Lev 26:46; 27:34; Neh 9:13). Deuteronomy, 1 Kings, 2 Chronicles, and Malachi call it Horeb (Deut 29:1; 1 Kgs 8:9; 2 Chr 5:10; Mal 4:4). The same foundational event is located at two differently named mountains.

The oldest harmonization simply identifies them: Sinai and Horeb are two names for one site, or Horeb names the wider massif while Sinai names the specific peak (or vice versa). Archer, Alec Motyer, and Carmen Imes defend versions of this, and Jewish tradition reached it long ago — b. Shabbat 89a-b offers a midrashic list of the mountain's several names tied to its functions. Given the irrecoverable geography of the Sinai peninsula and the fluidity of ancient toponyms, the bare lexical identification cannot be ruled out, and at the level of reference the two names may well point to one place. To that extent the tension is not a factual contradiction about two distinct mountains.

What the harmonization does not explain is the distribution of the names, which has been a cornerstone of Pentateuchal source criticism since Astruc and Wellhausen. The usage is not random or freely mixed; it segregates with striking consistency. 'Sinai' clusters in material assigned to the Yahwistic and Priestly sources — the Sinai pericope of Exodus 19-24 (excluding D-edited seams), Leviticus, Numbers, and the Priestly-influenced sections of later texts like Nehemiah 9. 'Horeb' clusters in the Elohistic and Deuteronomic material: Deuteronomy uses Horeb consistently and never says Sinai, and the Deuteronomistic History follows suit (1 Kings 8; the Elijah-at-Horeb narrative of 1 Kings 19), as does Malachi, whose theology is markedly Deuteronomistic. Richard Friedman lays out the distribution in detail and Joel Baden's documentary analysis confirms it; crucially, the Sinai/Horeb split correlates with other independent source markers — divine-name usage, characteristic vocabulary, theological emphasis, and narrative doublets. If a single author were merely using two interchangeable names for one mountain, one would expect them to appear mixed within the same documents; instead they are sharply partitioned along precisely the lines drawn by other criteria.

This is what makes the case a textbook source-critical marker rather than a trivial synonym. The apologetic fallback — that different biblical authors simply preferred different names for the same place — is true as far as it goes, but it concedes the decisive point: the Pentateuch and the historical books were composed by multiple writers with distinct vocabularies and traditions. Once that is granted, one is already doing source criticism, only under a different label. Thomas Dozeman's redaction study of Exodus 19-24 and the standard treatments by Weinfeld and Schmid all locate the Horeb tradition in the Deuteronomic stream and the Sinai tradition in J/P.

Where the critical reading lands: partially harmonizable at the level of geographic reference (the two names may denote one mountain), but the rigorously segregated distribution of the names is strong positive evidence of the Torah's composite authorship — the real significance of the datum.