The Deliverer (19 page)
“Sculpt two winged angels out of hammered gold for either end of the lid. Make them so they’re one piece with the lid. Make the angels with their wings spread, hovering and facing one another but looking down on the ark. I will meet you there at set times to speak with you from between the angel figures that are on it. I will speak the commands that I have for the Israelites from that place.”
Well, I was confused. What was He doing? God speaks from heaven, from the mountains, from the pillar of fire, from just about every grand thing imaginable. But God does not stand on the lid of a box to speak. Furthermore, He would certainly never get
in
the box, which was bound to be the next illogical conclusion to which the Israelites were certain to jump given enough time.
Much as I hated to do it, I needed to talk this over with someone. This was just not like anything God was known to do. Unfortunately, the only person who knew more about God than me was Satan. I supposed I’d have to tell him about the box eventually, so it may as well be sooner than later. Reluctantly, I took myself to his throne room and waited to be admitted. It didn’t occur to me that Satan might outjump the Israelites en route to a wrong conclusion, but that’s just what he did.
“A box? God in a box.”
“Something like that, yes, sir.” It was pointless to argue about whether God was on top of the box or in the box.
“And just why do you think God might do something like that?” He pretended interested in my opinion.
“I … I hoped you might know, sir.” Then the tittering began among the onlooking guards.
“Well, let’s see if we can figure this out. What was Moses supposed to do with the box once God got inside?”
“Only the priests were to handle the ark—the box—and even they were not permitted to touch it. They were to carry it on their shoulders on poles that would fit into rings on the sides. Once they start moving again, the priests are to get in front of the people and carry the ark.”
Satan couldn’t seem to get over the hilarity of visualizing God in a box, but I was figuring the whole thing out just from talking out loud. Note to self: I don’t need to consult with Satan for answers; I just need to hear myself talk.
“I think I’ve got it, sir. God is preparing the people for war.”
“By getting in a box?” Everyone roared at Satan’s retort.
“Yes, yes, that’s it. Don’t you see? God knows what they’re like. It’s plain from the golden calf debacle. The people want a god they can see, one they can carry in their hands. They were willing to follow the golden calf because they could see it, handle it, and know where it was at all times.”
“That has nothing to do with war.”
“But it does, or it will. God knows what you’ve got planned with those nations lying in wait for the Israelites to cross over. He knows the Israelites will be terrified and might run away. But when they see the priests carrying the box with God in it, they’ll feel invincible and be willing to go to war.”
Satan’s face showed he wasn’t connecting the same dots as me.
“You’ll see I’m right, master.” I probably shouldn’t have made that boast. No one was allowed to be right except for Satan. “Shall I go down for a closer look, Mighty One?”
“Go down for a closer look,” Satan commanded as if I hadn’t just said the same thing.
I
FOUND
M
OSES IN
his tent with his hands over his ears. I couldn’t blame him. The people were back at their national sport, whining and complaining. It was the mixed people who had stirred them up again. They hadn’t counted on the journey taking so long. Their soft life back in Egypt hadn’t prepared them for an extended camping trip. It was inevitable they would fall back into loud grumbling over their hard life and lead the Israelites right into misery with them. Moses had learned to ignore the mixed bunch, but when it spread to the others, the din could not be shut out. Moses wasn’t the only one who heard them; God heard them also.
From experience I knew there was a point at which God would have had enough. I didn’t always guess right as to where that point might be, but it was always there eventually. On this day, the Israelites hit it dead on. When He heard their unabashed ingratitude, His anger flared, and He sent fire that blazed up and burned the outer boundaries of the camp.
The people thought they were goners for sure and went running toward Moses’s tent, crying out for him to help. Moses stepped out of his tent to keep them from trying to get inside.
“Don’t you care that He will destroy us?” they shouted.
“He’s not going to destroy you. You’ve given Him plenty of opportunity and reason. If He were going to destroy you, He would have already done it.”
“But how do you know? Look at that fire,” they clamored.
Moses sighed and tried to ignore them, but they would not be quieted.
“Help us. Talk to God on our behalf. Save us.” The crowd was growing.
“I’ll try.” Moses sighed and went back inside his tent.
He lifted his hands toward God as if trying to grab hold of Him. “You know You’re not going to destroy them. Please, can’t I have a little rest?”
God didn’t answer, but the fire flickered out, and the people settled down. When Moses heard the cries of discontent fading, he peeked out the door of his tent to see what had happened.
“Thank You,” he whispered to God as he rolled his eyes heavenward.
Anyone who knew humans the way I do would also know the calm wouldn’t last. The mixed people were soon at it again. Now they had a craving for meat.
“Why can’t we have meat? We ate meat and fish in Egypt—and got it free—to say nothing of the cucumbers and melons, the leeks and onions and garlic. Nothing tastes good out here; all we get is manna, manna, manna.”
“Why can’t we have meat?” the Israelites cried right along with the mixed people. Never mind that most of them had never had a bite of meat in their entire lives. Meat was not on the Egyptian menu for slaves.
Moses heard the whining of all those people moving toward his tent again. God heard it too, and Moses began to get worried about what might happen next.
Moses looked up and raised his hands. “Are You here, God?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Where do I go to resign?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re My chosen servant.”
“Can’t You choose someone else for a while?”
“This is the reason I created you.”
“Then why are You treating me this way? What did I ever do to You to deserve this? Did I conceive them? Was I their mother? Why do You dump the responsibility of this people on me? Where am I supposed to get meat for all these people?” He lifted the flap of his tent door as if showing God the crowds outside.
“Give us meat; we want meat.” It sounded like a lunchroom brawl.
“God, I can’t do this by myself,” Moses complained as he closed the tent flap. “It’s too much for one person with all these people. If You’re not going to help me with them, do me a favor and kill me. I’ve seen enough; I’ve had enough. Let me out of here.”
“Get a grip. You know you can’t go anywhere. Gather seventy men from among the leaders of Israel, men whom you know to be respected and responsible. Take them to the tent of meeting. I’ll meet you there, and I’ll come down and speak with you. I’ll take some of the Spirit that is on you and place it on them; they’ll then be able to take some of the load of this people. You won’t have to carry the whole thing alone. How does that sound?”
“Well, OK, that’s better than nothing.” Moses himself was close to whining.
“Now go tell the people to consecrate themselves and get ready for tomorrow when they’re going to eat meat.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, really. I’m as tired of their griping as you are. ‘We want meat; give us meat. We had a better life in Egypt. Whine, whine, whine.’
“I’ve heard their whining, and I’m going to give them meat all right. Not just meat for one day or a few days or even a week. I’m going to give them meat for thirty days. They’re going to eat meat until it’s coming out of their nostrils. They’re going to be so sick of meat that they’ll throw up at the mere mention of it. And you can tell them why. It’s because they have rejected Me, who is right here among them, whining to My face, ‘Oh, why did we ever have to leave Egypt?’”
Apparently Moses had never seen God’s emotional side. But then Moses was a bit emotional himself; otherwise, he would have been a little more careful with his tone of voice.
“I’m standing here surrounded by six hundred thousand men on foot, and You say You’ll give them meat every day for a month. So, where’s it coming from? Even if all the flocks and herds in the land were butchered, would that be enough? Even if all the fish in the sea were caught, would that be enough?”
“So, do you think I can’t take care of you? You’ll see soon enough whether what I say happens for you or not.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I know You’ve never failed me.”
“Then do what I tell you.”
I was flabbergasted. That’s all I can say about it. I know what I said earlier about God and Moses talking as if they were friends, but this was too much. Even though it might sound like a real argument was going on, it was an argument between two people who respected and trusted one another. Moses trusted God so much he could pour out his anger and frustration and feel safe doing it. God trusted Moses so much He pulled no punches in letting him know just how He felt about things. I was pretty sure God would never have been that transparent with any of the angels.
Moses went out and told the people what God had said. He called together seventy of the leaders and told them to stand around the tent. Right on cue God came down in a cloud and spoke to Moses and took some of the Spirit that was on him and put it on the seventy leaders. When the Spirit rested on them, they prophesied.
Then Moses and the leaders of Israel went back to the camp. A wind set in motion by the breath of God swept quail in from the direction of the sea. They piled up to a depth of about three feet in the camp and as far out as a day’s walk in every direction. All that day and night and into the next day the people were out gathering the quail by the bushel baskets. Quail was all over the place. Huge amounts of quail; even the slowest person among them gathered at least sixty bushels.
They ate so much quail some of them got sick and died. The mixed people said God had sent a plague on them. It didn’t look that way from where I was sitting. They gorged themselves like pigs and died of gluttony. That would be the official story for sure. But I knew what had really happened; after all, I watched the whole thing.
The people insisted they knew more about what they needed than God did. Spurred on by the mixed people, they harangued God and Moses endlessly about something they didn’t really need, something that, in fact, was bad for them. Their digestive systems were not suitable for an orgy of meat, and they were unrestrained in eating as much and as fast as they could.
So, why did God give in and let them have something He knew would make them sick? Because He won’t make people do what they are supposed to do even though their lives would be so simple if only He would. His will is perfect for them if they would accept it. But when they won’t, He’ll hold out for a while to give them time to think through their impetuous nature. If they won’t accept His will for them, He won’t force them into compliance. It’s sort of like He finally says to them, “Very well;
thy
will be done.”
Many people died because they got exactly what they insisted on having.
I
T TOOK DAYS
to take care of all the people who were sick from food poisoning and to bury the many who died. If there was a good thing for Moses in all this, it was that at least there was positively no more griping about food. I followed Moses as he walked through the outer camp, where all the dead and dying had been moved. If he intended to call on God again, I didn’t want to miss it. When I figured out he wasn’t going to do anything but survey the damage and console the people when he could, I got bored and decided to go back to the main camp to see if anything was going on that Satan would want to know about.
I smelled him before I got close to him. As I said before, once you’ve smelled a demon, you can never mistake the odor for anything else. There was definitely a demon in the camp. Satan must have sent someone to check on me, not for my well-being, of course, but probably to see if I was on the job. I found him with Aaron and Miriam. They didn’t know he was there, but he was right in the middle of their conversation. When the demon spotted me, he flew over to my side.
“Why are you here?” I asked him.
“Watch and see. Satan knew you would let things get too cozy for the leaders. He sent me to stir them up a bit.”
Miriam and Aaron were deep in quiet conversation, but I couldn’t hear without moving in closer. When I did, it was clear they were talking against Moses behind his back because of his Cushite wife, Zipporah.
“What did she tell you?” Aaron asked.
“She’s unhappy. They haven’t had marital relations in all this time because Moses insists on remaining chaste in order to hear God.”
“It isn’t good for Moses to ignore his wife. He’s coming up now; let me talk to him.”
Moses joined his brother and sister to give them a status report on the condition of the camp after the food epidemic. Sensing he had walked in on a private conversation, he asked Miriam.
“What’s going on?”
Miriam lowered her head as if captivated by an ant crawling across her shoe. Then peeking up, she tilted her head toward Moses as if urging Aaron to speak.
“Let me ask you something,” Aaron began. “Is it only through you and you alone that God speaks?”
“What?” Moses had no idea where this conversation was going.