By Way of the Wilderness (19 page)

“All right, I will.”

Moses rose from his knees, and as soon as he exited his small tent, the cries and the shouting went up. He could hear the weeping of the women and the angry shouts of the men, and soon he found himself surrounded by the people. One tall, rangy individual planted himself in front of Moses and said loudly, “If only we had died by the Lord's hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.”

Moses said at once, “It was not I who brought you out of the land of Egypt. It was the Lord God. Have you forgotten His miracles? The parting of the Red Sea? He who brought you out from that bondage will not allow you to die now.”

“But we're starving,” a woman cried out, tears running down her face. “My baby has nothing to eat. How is God going to feed us in the desert?”

In desperation Moses pleaded with them. “We must believe in God. I do not know how He is going to care for us, but I know that He loves us, and He
will
provide.”

“When? When will He feed us? I need food now!” The cry went up from the back of the crowd and others took it up.

Moses held up his hands and said wearily, “I will go pray, but the Lord knows even before I pray that you are hungry. He always knows of His peoples' troubles, but He will give an answer.”

Moses turned and trudged wearily back to his tent. He heard the murmuring of the people and was aware that they were only a razor's edge away from total revolt.

Entering his tent, he fell on his face, so agitated that he could not even formulate words. His cry was simply, “Help, O God, help!”

Almost at once the voice that he had grown to love spoke to him:
“I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions. On the sixth day they are to prepare what they bring in, and that is to be twice as much as they gather on the other days.”

With joy bubbling over in his heart and tears running down his cheeks, Moses leaped to his feet. He dashed out of the tent and began to shout, “Hear, O people, the Lord God has spoken! In the evening you will know that it was the Lord who brought you out of Egypt, and in the morning you will see the glory of the Lord, because He has heard your grumbling against Him. Who are we, that you should grumble against us? You will know that it was the Lord when He gives you meat to eat in the evening and all the bread you want in the morning, because He has heard your grumbling against Him. Who are we? You are not grumbling against us, but against the Lord.”

****

“Do you really think, Mother, that God will feed all these people?”

Miriam turned to look at Bezalel, who was sitting beside her in front of their tent. They were both aware of the strange silence that had fallen upon the people. It was eerie and unnatural. There was no sound of voices, of arguments, of complaining. There was not even the sound of the children shouting in play. All was still, and Miriam noted that almost every person she could see had their head turned upward toward heaven.

“Yes. I believe it shall be as my brother says. God is going to feed us.”

Bezalel shook his head slightly but said nothing. What kind of miracle could feed hundreds of thousands of people? He had never counted them, but he knew they appeared to be as numerous as the sands on the shore.

“If the food doesn't come,” he said, “I'm afraid of what will happen to Moses. The people are desperate.”

“The food will come,” Miriam said boldly. She turned again to face him and took his hand. “I would that you were a believer in our God, my son. Without that belief, you are nothing.”

Bezalel could not answer, for he felt the weight of her argument. He was ashamed but could not think of an answer. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes and suddenly said, “Listen, do you hear that?”

Darkness had almost fallen, and Miriam's hearing was not as keen as Bezalel's. “Hear what?”

Bezalel did not speak for a moment. “It's … it's the twittering of birds. Many birds!” He leaped to his feet and said, “Look, Mother! That's not a cloud up there. Those are birds!”

Indeed, that which appeared to be a cloud was nothing less than an enormous flock of birds. A cry went up from the people everywhere, and almost at once several birds plopped down at the feet of Bezalel. He leaped forward, grabbed one that made no attempt to escape, wrung its neck, and tossed it to Miriam. “Clean it, Mother, while I get some more!” he cried. “Look at them all!”

The camp was filled with quail that had apparently been driven to them by an enormous wind. It required no effort to catch them. They simply fell to the ground, and all that a person had to do was pick them up and wring their necks.

Soon small fires began to dot the darkness, and the sound of happy voices rang out in the night. Bezalel had saved enough wood to get a fire started, and he roasted the small birds on sticks held over the fire. He, along with Miriam and Aaron, ate like starved wolves.

“Nothing ever tasted so good!” Miriam said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “You see, Bezalel, it is as the Lord promised Moses. We have meat to eat.”

“Yes, we do,” Bezalel said, swallowing a huge morsel and reaching out for another bird to roast. “But what about bread? We don't have ovens. How can we bake bread?”

“You're such a doubter,” Aaron said, shaking his head with disdain. “Did you ever see birds come up like this, asking to be killed? It's all God's doing, my boy. It's all of God!”

“Yes, and the bread will come,” Miriam said. “You will see. God said it would be here in the morning, and when we get up, there will be bread!”

****

Bezalel stuffed himself with roasted quail and slept like a dead man. He awoke to the sound of people shouting. He came up off of his mat and bolted from the tent. Everywhere people were bending over and saying, “Manna?” which meant, “What is it?” Bezalel looked down at the ground and saw that it was covered with small white particles.

He reached down, picked up a few, and rolled them around in his palm. “What is this, Mother?” he asked.

“It is the bread from heaven. God has sent it. Taste it, my son, taste it.”

Bezalel picked up a handful of morsels and tasted them. They were rather brittle, but in his mouth they became moist. “Why, they're sweet like honey cakes!” he exclaimed.

“I'm going to fry some in oil,” Miriam said and immediately began stirring up the fire.

The coming of the bread from heaven, or “manna” as it came to be called, was an obvious miracle to all. Moses walked through the camp, shouting, “Listen to me! God has given me commands concerning this bread from heaven. Everyone shall gather enough for one day only. No one is to leave any of it until the morning.”

And so they gathered the manna quickly, putting it in pots and in jars and eating it as they went. The sun came out, and the crystals seemed to melt, and there were doubters, of course, who said, “It will not be there in the morning.” But Moses assured them, “It will be on the ground every day except on the seventh day. On the sixth day, let each of you gather enough for two days.”

Suddenly Moses fell on his knees in front of all the people. “I thank you, O merciful God, that you have fed your people with bread and meat. I thank you for the day of rest that you have ordained. I thank you for your love and concern for your people.”

The manna fell every day, but there were some who tried to store up enough for several days. This was unsuccessful, however. On the second day the stored manna was filled with worms and stank.

This was not true on the sixth day, however. They gathered twice as much, according to the commands of Moses, and what was left over on the seventh day was good and sweet and pure. Everyone was happy for the time being, and Aaron said to Moses, “Now the people have seen God's hand. They will never doubt again!”

Moses stared at Aaron and said nothing, but in his own heart he knew that their trials were not yet over.

Miriam was frying up a meal of manna in sweet oil. It gave off a fragrant odor, and she said to Aaron, “Come, brother, let us eat.”

Aaron, who had been standing at the door of the tent looking out on the camp, turned, walked toward her, and sat down. He took the earthen dish she handed him. When she sat down, the two of them bowed their heads and Aaron said a quick prayer. “Thank you, our God, for feeding us with bread from heaven.”

They both began to eat, and Miriam said, “You look worried, Aaron. What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“Come, I know you better than that. What is it?”

“There are so many problems. Who knows how far it is to the land of milk and honey.”

“It doesn't matter,” Miriam said. “God will get us there safely.”

While the two ate, Aaron shared with Miriam the problems of the travel. It was a monumental task to move hundreds of thousands of people, including small children and infants, along with herds and flocks, and of course, Moses had to bear the brunt of all the complaining. Just finding water and grazing land to keep the cattle alive was daylong work for the herdsmen.

“What's Bezalel doing? Why isn't he here?” Aaron asked.

“He's out with his friends.” Miriam took another bite from the dish before her, and her brow furrowed. “I'm worried about him.”

“Why? What's wrong with him?”

“Nothing specific. It's just that … well, he doesn't have any faith in the Lord.”

“Most of the people don't have a true faith,” Aaron said gloomily.

“Why, Aaron, how can you say that?”

“It's true enough,” Aaron said, shaking his head vigorously. “They are not looking to the Lord. They are looking to Moses and me to solve all their problems.”

“That's natural enough. People need leaders.”

Aaron did not answer. He was given to worry, and many sleepless nights had caused him to grow thin and gaunt. “I think Bezalel needs firmer discipline.”

“I'm going to ask Caleb to talk to him.”

“That would be a good idea. He likes Caleb and respects him. Everybody does, of course. I advise you to do it at once.”

****

“Your kinsman Caleb wants to see you, Bezalel.”

Bezalel, who had been sitting beside a small fire, looked up with alarm. “What does he want, Mother?”

“He just wants to talk to you.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

Seeing the alarm on Bezalel's face, Miriam smiled. “No, not at all. But he's a man you should pay heed to. He's well respected by our people. Go to him now, before he goes to sleep.”

Bezalel got to his feet and made his way to the part of the camp occupied by the tribe of Judah. He found Caleb tending his injured sheep, putting ointment on a gash that the sheep had incurred on its journey.

“What's wrong with the sheep, Caleb?”

“Got a bad cut here, but she'll be all right.” Caleb gave the sheep a final dab with the paddle, loosed her, then wiped his hands on a piece of cloth. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

Bezalel sat on the ground, glancing uneasily at Caleb's family, who were staying away to give them plenty of space. “Have I done something wrong?” he asked Caleb.

“I'm sure you have,” Caleb said, grinning playfully. “You want to tell me about it, that secret thing nobody saw you do?”

Bezalel laughed shakily. He knew Caleb was teasing him, and this was a good sign. “There's not much trouble a fellow can get into out here in this desert.”

“Yes, there is. A man can get into trouble anywhere.” Caleb sat down facing Bezalel. He studied the young man silently and was quiet for so long that Bezalel grew even more nervous.

Bezalel tried to still his shaking hands, then finally stammered, “What … what did you want to talk about?”

“About the tribe of Judah,” Caleb said. “Your tribe, Bezalel.”

“What about it?”

“I want to refresh your memory about an event that happened a long time ago. You've heard it from the teachers and the elders, but young fellows like you tend to forget such things, so I'm going to repeat a bit of history for you.”

“I'm listening, and I promise I won't forget.”

“Good! Now, you will remember our ancestor Jacob had twelve sons. Each son became the leader of his own tribe. When Jacob lay dying, he gave prophecies concerning each of his sons. I'm afraid some of them were pretty rough. He proclaimed that his oldest son, Reuben, was unstable as water because he had sinned with his own father's concubine. He also cut off Simeon and Levi, saying that they were cruel individuals. He pretty much went down the list, but do you remember what he said to his son Judah?”

“I … I can't quite remember it, not exactly….”

“I'm going to quote it for you, and I want you to memorize it.”

“Yes, of course.”

“He said, ‘Judah, your brothers will praise you; your hand will be on the neck of your enemies; your father's sons will bow down to you.'”

“You mean all the other tribes?”

“Just listen, memorize it and think on it. He went on to say, ‘The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes, and the obedience of the nations is his.'”

When Caleb fell silent, Bezalel thought hard, then said, “Who is Shiloh?”

“No man knows, not even the wisest of the elders. We do know that when He comes, He will bring everything we need. He will be the Great Redeemer of the sons of Israel and indeed for the whole world.”

“Then Judah is the most important tribe of all?”

Caleb grinned frostily. “Don't get swollen up with pride, now. That would be fatal.”