6. Moses: From Water’s Edge to Wilderness
6
MOSES
From Water’s Edge to Wilderness
Moses’ name appears no less than eight hundred times in the Bible, second only to the names of Jesus and King David. In the Qur’an he is named 136 times, more than any other individual. No Old Testament figure ranks higher than he does in Jewish understanding. His roller-coaster ride through a life of highs and lows not only makes for interesting reading but also serves as a case study in human development. His story can be summed up in a sentence: Inexperienced and insecure, he begs God to look elsewhere for leadership and then goes on to become a commanding leader.
Moses lives today not only in the Bible but also on the bookshelves of libraries and bookstores. His name is on the cover of leadership books as well. Indeed, his stock value has not depreciated nor his luster dimmed in the millennia since his earthly demise.
After Joseph and his siblings die, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren and their descendants—the children of Israel—continue to multiply in their new homeland of Egypt. In fact, there is a population explosion. Egypt is overrun with Hebrews. The new Pharaoh does not know about Joseph, that brilliant Hebrew administrator who decades before had saved Egypt from the brink of disaster. He is now alarmed with this turn of events. The Hebrews are expanding and taking over the land and—who knows?—may someday stage a coup and become the rulers of Egypt. More realistically, they might take the side of the enemy if a neighboring army were to attack.
This is the conundrum that Egypt confronts. Even if this large foreign ethnic population were to simply pick up and leave, it would cause great upheaval to the economy.
From his point of view, the Pharaoh is simply being proactive when he brings in his counselors and seeks to establish an agenda for the future. The twin concerns are security and prosperity. His government still has a firm grip on law enforcement within its borders, so, before it is too late, steps are taken to initiate a policy of compulsory work teams. It doesn’t happen overnight, but within a short time the descendants of Jacob are being treated as slaves. The Egyptian taskmasters are brutish and virtually work them around the clock.
Still the population is exploding, and the Pharaoh is nervous. These Hebrews will not remain passive slaves forever; they will rise up and overthrow his own regime if he is not on top of things. Drastic action is required. So he pulls aside two prominent Hebrew midwives, perhaps suggesting some favorable treatment if they will carry out a little assignment for him. All they need do is make sure none of the boy babies they deliver will survive. He offers no specific plans or potions. Just get the job done.
Time passes and the Hebrews are still throwing baby showers for their infant boys. Pharaoh is more than a little agitated. He orders the midwives to appear before him. What’s going on, he demands. Why have you blatantly ignored my order? They have a ready excuse. Turns out Hebrew women give birth so fast the midwives can’t make it to the house before the baby is bundled up and nursing.
His surreptitious plan foiled, Pharaoh now goes for the jugular. Forget the midwives, he’ll take care of the matter himself. He puts out a decree to his own people that every Hebrew male infant shall be drowned in the Nile River. What a horrific declaration. Nursing mothers, pregnant mothers, and whole families are simply beside themselves.
This ever-increasing enslavement and persecution and outright murder is the backdrop for the life of Moses. He is a heralded leader whose story has been passed down through the ages in art, literature, music, and film. Like his forebears, he is anything but a supersaint. Indeed, his temper is terrifying. But he is the man God uses to carry out his demand to the Pharaoh: Let my people go! Moses in some respects is the most privileged of men. He is snatched as an infant from a floating basket to live in Pharaoh’s palace. A defiant rich kid, he runs away. Then after forty years of herding sheep and finding himself—and God—he is back in Pharaoh’s court. And God comes with him.
Moses is a mighty leader. Or is he? He is not a military strategist, nor is he a visionary who captures the hearts and minds of the people. His spectacular successes are engineered by God alone; his failures are his own. But he’s not a lone ranger. His biography is incomplete without adequate mention of his brother and sister, Aaron and Miriam. They serve as both his supporters and rivals in this electrifying story of both suspense and certitude.
Moses: Mighty Leader, Lawgiver, and More
It is interesting that Moses, the great hero of the faith, comes from the tribe of Levi on both sides of the family. Levi, after all, along with his brother Simeon, was given a very negative “blessing” from his father Jacob, who actually cursed the violent tempers of these two brothers and prophesied that their descendants would be scattered. This scattering comes true most specifically when Moses later appoints Levites as priests, who would be dispersed throughout the tribes, with no designated territory of their own.
Moses’ birth story is filled with drama and suspense. Baby boys are on Pharaoh’s hit list. His parents, Amram and Jochebed, are terrified. For the first three months he is hidden in the family dwelling, but they worry that he will be discovered. So his mother makes a floating basket and tucks him in, placing it amid the reeds presumably so that he won’t be discovered. His sister Miriam, avoiding any appearance of suspicion, watches nearby.
But why would Jochebed leave her infant son at the bank of the very river where the Pharaoh drowns the baby boys? It’s the last place one would want to hide a child. On the surface it seems absurd. Is it possible, however, that she hopes he will be discovered? Has she noticed that the Pharaoh’s daughter, with her attendants, often comes to bathe at that very spot? Does she know she cannot hide her child indefinitely, and does she hope that this young woman’s maternal instincts will kick in?
When Pharaoh’s daughter does come down to the water’s edge, Baby Moses melts her heart. Was he cooing? Did he light up with a smile when she peered into the basket? All we know is that Miriam does not panic. She doesn’t race home to fetch her mother. Rather, she calmly does what her mother has instructed her to do. She confidently approaches the grand princess and asks if she would like her to fetch a Hebrew nursing mother who can serve as a nursemaid. If the princess thinks it is odd that a little girl jumps out of the bushes with a plan, she doesn’t say so.
Indeed, Pharaoh’s daughter readily agrees, with no further questions or hint of suspicion. Surely she must have realized this was a setup. She appears most eager, however, to save a baby from the vicious decree of her father. When Jochebed arrives, Pharaoh’s daughter hands over the baby and agrees to pay her for the trouble. What a deal.
The downside, however, is that Jochebed must give him back to his adoptive mother after he is weaned. Pharaoh’s daughter names him Moses (meaning “pulled out”) because she pulled him out of the water. He grows up in the luxury of the palace, perhaps arranging surreptitious meetings with his family by sneaking out at night or during the day when he is off by himself. Or perhaps he quickly forgets his family amid the palace riches. But he does not altogether forget his heritage. How could he? Unlike Egyptian boys and men, he is circumcised.
As he is coming into adulthood, he begins to notice the ill treatment of the Hebrew slaves. His adoptive mother may have emphasized to him how fortunate he was to have been saved from slavery. But now he is realizing what is happening to his own people. They are working long hours under ruthless conditions. Then he sees an Egyptian overseer hit one of the slaves. He’s the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter, after all, and might be able to influence the court. But he has no such self-control. His rage is uncontained. His is like the uncontrolled anger of Levi before him—anger cursed by Jacob when he was handing out blessings to his sons. Moses murders the Egyptian.
Thinking no one has seen him, he quickly buries the man in the desert sand. But his sin has not been covered up. The next day when he tries to intervene between two Hebrew men who are quarreling, one of them snarls: “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do? Are you going to kill me the way you killed that Egyptian?”[1] He has been found out. And he learns quickly that defending his people is not appreciated. Worse yet, the Pharaoh has learned of the murder and now has a price on his head. Moses flees to Midian.
For Moses, there was no escaping the desolation. . . .
Can you believe it? A man with advanced knowledge in hieroglyphics, science, literature, and military tactics was now eking out his existence on the backside of the desert, living with his father-in-law, raising a couple of boys, and watching over little flocks of sheep. . . .
. . . He entered the desert at forty and didn’t leave until he was eighty. So during those years—considered by many the most productive years of a person’s life—Moses herded sheep on what might well have been the front yard of Hades.
Alone and dejected, Moses sits down by a well to contemplate his situation. He once had a good life in Egypt, living in the court and enjoying all the perks of royalty. Now he is in the middle of nowhere, running for his life. Just then he looks up and sees seven young women coming to the well to water their sheep. But at the same time he sees some surly shepherds pushing their way ahead of the girls, preventing them from carrying out their task. Moses to the rescue. He steps up, takes control, and draws the water for the girls’ sheep. The girls go back home but soon return, at their father’s bidding, to invite this Egyptian stranger to their home.
Turns out, the father of the girls is Jethro, the priest of Midian, a descendant of Abraham and his second wife Keturah. He is impressed with this mannerly man who defended his daughters, and he invites him to settle down. Indeed, he goes a step further. He offers his daughter Zipporah in marriage. Soon the newlyweds are the proud parents of a baby boy, Gershom. He’s now a family man—and a shepherd. His is a classic case of downward mobility.
The years and decades pass uneventfully. Then one day Moses is tending Jethro’s sheep in a remote wilderness near Mount Horeb. It’s an ordinary day, one hour dragging after another. All of a sudden a nearby bush bursts into flame. Hot—really hot—sun, maybe? But it doesn’t burn up. Moses is incredulous. How can sagebrush be on fire and not burn up? Then he hears a voice calling his name. His response is most interesting: “Yes? I’m right here!”[2] as though he has heard a parent calling a child. And truly that is the case.
God is calling Moses, telling him to stand back and remove his sandals because the ground he is standing on is holy. Then God identifies himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Does Moses even know of this God and the patriarchs who worshiped him? After all, he had been raised in the royal pagan court of Egypt. Nevertheless, Moses is duly humbled; he hides his face, afraid to even look up at God.
Then God speaks. He tells Moses that he has heard the generations-long cries of his people for deliverance and he is going to free them from Egypt’s tyranny. He will bring them out of Egypt and into a land of milk and honey. God truly cares for his people. So far Moses understands and agrees. But suddenly the generalities slide into specifics: “It’s time for you to go back: I’m sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the People of Israel, out of Egypt.”[3]
A man named Moses is tending his sheep in the land of Midian when he comes upon a burning bush. He moves closer to see more and hears the voice of God speaking to him about his people and their need to be delivered from the land of Egypt. God tells Moses to take off his sandals, for the ground he is standing on is holy. Moses has been tending sheep in this region for forty years. How many times has he passed by this spot? How many times has he stood in this exact place? And now God tells him the ground is holy?
Has the ground been holy the whole time and Moses is just becoming aware of it for the first time?
Do you and I walk on holy ground all the time, but we are moving so fast and returning so many calls and writing so many emails and having such long lists to get done that we miss it?
Now the stunned Moses speaks. Why me? he pleads. How can a simple shepherd possibly rattle the chain of a Pharaoh? God promises to be with him, but Moses is not convinced. He is not even sure to whom he is talking. So he asks, though not directly. Rather, he lays out a scenario: Just suppose I do what you say, and the people ask what your name is, what name should I give? God answers: “I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’”[4]
God instructs Moses to go back to Egypt, rally the leaders of Israel, and then go to the Pharaoh and tell him to let everyone go into the wilderness for three days to worship. He warns Moses that freeing the slaves in Egypt will not be easy—that the Pharaoh will not simply submit to Moses’ demands. He “won’t let you go unless forced to, so I’ll intervene and hit Egypt where it hurts.”[5]
Part of the hurting, God promises, will entail booty. He assures Moses that the people will leave with the treasures of Egypt: “Each woman will ask her neighbor and any guests in her house for objects of silver and gold, for jewelry and extra clothes; you’ll put them on your sons and daughters. Oh, you’ll clean the Egyptians out!”[6]
But Moses is not convinced. He’s lived in Egypt. He knows firsthand the cultural and political conditions. Indeed, he might have started a revolt years earlier when he killed the Egyptian, but he was rebuffed by the very Hebrew slave he sought to help. There is no way they will listen to him now. God, however, is having none of his excuses. He decides to put Moses to the test. He tells him to identify what he’s holding in his hand. It’s an ordinary staff. So God tells him to throw it on the ground. It miraculously turns into a snake—so menacing that Moses jumps back. God now tells him to pick it up by the tail. When Moses does so, it reconstitutes itself into a staff. Wow! There’s no doubt that he is dealing with the true God.
But God knows human nature all too well. So he demonstrates his power with another miraculous sign, this time letting Moses physically realize the consequences of disobedience. God tells him to slide his hand inside his garment. When Moses pulls his hand back out as God instructs, he is horrified to see he has leprosy. It’s incurable—a slow and painful death. But when he obeys God’s command to put his hand back under his garment, he’s instantly cured. God promises Moses similar miracles in dealing with Pharaoh.
Still Moses protests. Obviously this I-AM God is right for the job, but he, Moses, is not. He has no speaking capabilities. Worse than that, he stutters. He’s a shepherd wandering around in a remote wilderness on the backside of a mountain. There’s no way he could ever possibly confront the Pharaoh and be a spokesman for all the Hebrew slaves. He begs God to pick on someone else.
Everyday Life
Slavery in Ancient Israel
Slavery was common throughout the ancient Near East and was practiced in the families of the patriarchs. The account of Sarah’s mistreatment of her slave girl Hagar illustrates the evils of that institution. Abraham, on the other hand, treated his slave Eliezer almost as a son, and designated him as his heir before the birth of his own son. He was a trusted friend who sought out a wife for Isaac.
In subsequent generations the Hebrew people themselves would endure harsh enslavement during their lengthy sojourn in Egypt. They languished under the callous taskmasters, enduring long hours of forced labor, poor living conditions, and heavy taxes.
Such treatment might have motivated the Hebrew people to later abolish slavery themselves. It did not. But under the Mosaic law, some of the harshest evils of slavery were minimized. A six-year limitation for holding a slave, for example, made the Hebrew system much less severe than that of neighboring cultures. A master who killed a slave faced the death penalty. Equally amazing was the protection of runaway slaves: “If a slave has taken refuge with you, do not hand them over to their master. Let them live among you wherever they like and in whatever town they choose. Do not oppress them” (Deut. 23:15–16 NIV).
By this time God is angry, though he does relent, if ever so slightly. God points to Moses’ brother Aaron. He is a smooth talker, as God reminds Moses. Aaron has a way with words, and he will help out. And it just so happens that he is right now on his way to meet Moses. Moses leaves the wilderness, returns to Jethro, and begs permission to go back to Egypt. With Jethro’s blessing he takes his wife and sons and heads home.
During this journey there are two visitations from God. The first one is a stern reminder to do exactly what the Lord has told him to do. The second is the strangest and most shocking of all. Moses is obeying God’s directive and is no longer remonstrating. He has given in. He is headed in the right direction. The family sets up camp for the night. And it is here that God meets Moses “and would have killed him but Zipporah took a flint knife and cut off her son’s foreskin, and touched Moses’ member with it. She said, ‘Oh! You’re a bridegroom of blood to me!’ Then GOD let him go. She used the phrase ‘bridegroom of blood’ because of the circumcision.”[7]
They continue on their journey, and whom should they meet but Aaron, sent by God’s prompting. Together the brothers return to Egypt, where they gather the Hebrew leaders, who are ready and eager to carry out the plan Aaron and Moses present to them. Pharaoh, however, is not. He is insulted by the demands for time off. In fact, he makes life much harder for the Hebrew slaves, giving the overseers explicit instructions to intensify their misery so as to get their minds off their god.
So awful is the lot of the slaves that they cry out to Pharaoh for relief, to no avail. In anger, they turn on Moses and Aaron. Moses blames God. This is exactly what he feared would happen—exactly. Why would God put him through this? God reminds him of who he is and tells him to go back to the Hebrews and tell them, but Moses is not persuaded. He reiterates his inability to persuade either the Israelites or the Pharaoh. And besides that, he stutters.
God reminds Moses again what he is capable of doing, so Moses relents and, with Aaron, appears before Pharaoh. The two old men, eighty and eighty-three, are hardly an impressive duo. But they have God on their side. Before Pharaoh, they demonstrate their prowess. God has told them to prove themselves by throwing down a staff that turns into a snake. Problem is, Pharaoh’s sorcerers can do the same trick. But then Aaron’s staff consumes those of the sorcerers.
With that Pharaoh should have realized that Aaron and Moses—and God—are more powerful than his team, but he is stubborn. What follows is a series of plagues, and before each one the Pharaoh does receive fair warning. First, all bodies of water, including the Nile River, are turned to blood. Then a plague of frogs, followed by gnats, swarms of flies, sickness and death of livestock, boils, hail, locusts, darkness, and finally the threat of death to every firstborn creature, animal and human. That should have been the final straw, but God hardens Pharaoh’s heart.
At this point God instructs Moses and Aaron to tell the Israelites to make a sacrifice of a lamb, one for each household, and to smear the blood over the doorposts. That will prepare the way for God to go throughout Egypt after nightfall and strike dead the firstborn of every family except for the families whose houses had blood on their doorposts. When God sees the blood, he will pass over the household—thus the institution of the Jewish Passover, a day to celebrate God’s salvation down through the ages.
The next morning, after God had passed over all the Jewish households, the Egyptians are wailing in grief—even in the court of Pharaoh. At last Pharaoh has had enough. He calls in Moses and Aaron and orders them and all their people and cattle out of the land. So exactly 430 years after Jacob and his sons arrived at the invitation of Joseph, the children of Israel are on their way out. On their departure they take from the Egyptian people valuables—gold, silver, and fine garments. Besides the confiscated loot, they take with them Joseph’s bones, Moses fulfilling a four-hundred-year-old promise to bury his remains in Canaan.
In addition to the death of all the firstborn, the population of Egypt has suddenly taken a sharp downward turn—six hundred thousand men and their families, plus “a crowd of riffraff tagging along, not to mention the large flocks and herds of livestock.”[8] What an incredible scene: more than a million people marching out of Egypt.
They are headed back to the Promised Land of Canaan. So why on earth would God be leading them by a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night in a southeasterly direction toward the Red Sea? There are at least two much shorter routes to take. But God does not lead them through the land of the warring Philistines to the north, lest they become afraid and turn back.
While it is true that Pharaoh has finally given them permission to leave, Moses and Aaron and all the rest of the Israelites know that his word is anything but reliable. They are obviously nervous. So when God tells Moses to turn back in the direction they came from and camp by the Red Sea, it seems on the surface no less than ludicrous. But God knows what he’s doing as he explains to Moses. If they turn back, the Pharaoh will assume the Israelites have gotten lost. He will send his troops after them, giving God an opportunity to again show his glory.
No surprise here. The Egyptian army pursues the Israelites, who appear to be trapped. The Israelites are petrified—and furious. Weren’t there gravesites enough in Egypt, they demand of Moses. Why bring us all here to die! By now Moses has found his voice. With God’s help he has come into his own. His speech carries the weight of authority: “GOD will fight the battle for you. And you? You keep your mouths shut!”[9]
Then on God’s orders Moses holds his staff out toward the sea and marches his people forward. Aided by a strong east wind, the waters part, and the people walk across on dry land, a wall of water on either side of them. The Egyptian army, in hot pursuit, drowns—but only after God jams the chariot wheels and, at Moses’ command, lets loose the walls of water. Safely on dry land, Moses leads a mass choir singing songs of victory and celebration.
This truly is a grand occasion, but the problems for the Israelites are not over. No sooner are they on the other side of the Red Sea in the Wilderness of Shur than their water supply runs out. They arrive in Marah only to discover the water is bitter. They will all die of thirst—until Moses, on God’s command, throws a stick into the water and it becomes sweet. But life continues to be difficult, and the people complain that they are no longer enjoying hearty stew and bread. So God causes manna to fall from heaven for the people to gather every morning, and quail to fly in every evening. The manna keeps coming during their forty-year sojourn in the wilderness; the quail do not.
At Horeb when there is no water and the people complain, God tells Moses to strike a rock—and water gushes out. There will be even more spectacular miracles to follow. Indeed, Moses directs armed warfare against the Amalekites by simply raising and lowering his hands. When his hands are raised, his people prevail. At the end of the day the army of Israel, commanded by Joshua, defeats the enemy.
While he is out in the wilderness, Moses receives word from his father-in-law Jethro, priest of Midian. Moses had sent his wife and sons home to her family, and now Jethro is returning to Moses with them. It is more than just a joyful reunion. Moses tells him all that God has done for him and the Israelites, and Jethro in turn blesses God, who is “greater than all other gods.”[10]
On a more personal level, Jethro’s visit proves to be life changing for Moses. Moses does not understand the principles of leadership. He has no concept of a pyramid organizational chart. He is spending his entire days judging matters when conflicts arise between individuals as they form long lines waiting for their cases to be heard. Jethro tells him, “This is no way to go about it. You’ll burn out.”[11] Jethro cuts to the chase and wisely suggests Moses appoint trusted individuals as his lieutenants and others beneath them to handle routine cases.
Still there are difficulties. There are no legal standards. Cases are judged by individual merit, and decisions are often subjective. Three months have passed since they have left Egypt. They have arrived at the Desert of Sinai and are still without a uniform code of conduct. Moses, eighty years old, trudges up Mount Sinai with the expectation that God has an important message for him. Indeed, he actually goes up the mountain to meet God. This is no burning-bush experience when God unexpectedly seems to come from out of nowhere.
It is here on the mountain, Mount Sinai, that the Israelites receive the defining set of laws and codes that will place them apart as a nation beloved of God, a “treasured possession” who have been carried out of Egypt on “eagles’ wings.”[12] But not for nothing. As God’s people, they must keep his covenant. When Moses comes down the mountain and conveys the message to the people, their response is unanimous. Of course, we will do all the Lord commands.
Moses makes the hike up and down the mountain (more than a mile high) at least five times as liaison between God and the people. On one of his returns down the mountain, he instructs them to wash themselves in preparation for God’s presence and warns them to stand clear of the mountain lest they die.
Tensions are high. And the spectacular show of force begins. The mountain smokes. God thunders. Lightning flashes. Moses appears transfigured. The people are terrified. Out of all this drama come the Ten Commandments and a host of other laws that cover a wide range of topics, including laws that are not always favorable to women. For example, “When a man sells his daughter to be a handmaid, she doesn’t go free after six years like the men.” Both genders, however, receive the severest penalty for disrespect: “If someone curses father or mother, the penalty is death.”[13]
If at times the law seems harsh, it also has a tender side: “Don’t abuse or take advantage of strangers; you, remember, were once strangers in Egypt.” And, “Don’t mistreat widows or orphans.”[14] God continues on and on and on with law giving—dozens of laws, ceremonial and communal. Moses, with his photographic memory, goes to the people and tells them everything God has said, and they agree in unison that they will abide by them. Then he writes everything down.
Now Moses again climbs to the top of the mountain, where over a forty-day period he receives the stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments and very detailed instructions on how to make everything for the tabernacle, from tables to vestments. All seems to be going well until the most devastating incident in the life of this emerging nation of former slaves occurs. God is furious. There is trouble down below, and he vows to destroy every one of them.
Moses hurries down the mountain and, much to his utter disgust, finds the people engaging in an orgy of wild dancing around a golden calf. He smashes the stone tablets on the ground, melts down the calf, grinds the remains into powder, scatters the powder on the water, and forces the people to drink. Then he orders the Levites to slaughter people left and right. They obey and kill three thousand.
The next day Moses goes back up the mountain and earnestly beseeches God to forgive his chosen people and spare their lives. But God does not relent. He sends a plague on them. From this point on, because of God’s anger with the people, he no longer will lead them in person. Rather, an angel will guide them. Moses is concerned, however, about losing God’s presence. He begs to see God’s glory. But God won’t let him see his face—only his back. At God’s command, Moses chisels two more stone tablets with the Commandments engraved on them and remains on the mountain forty days, during which time God renews his covenant with him, promises victory over the heathen Canaanites, and gives Moses additional laws and restrictions.
Moses breaking the stone tablets
In the days that follow, the people begin constructing all the items God has commanded them to make for the tabernacle: tapestries, chest, table, lampstand, altars, washbasin, courtyard, and vestments. When they are done, Moses blesses them. He goes through the Tabernacle rituals as God has commanded. The Tabernacle and all it contains are covered by a cloud that periodically lifts, signaling to Moses and the people that they should move on in their journey to the Promised Land.
Moses conducts a major census, numbering every tribe and clan and individual. The books of Leviticus and Numbers contain more religious rules, dress codes, food restrictions, and other behavioral and cultural guidelines. Deuteronomy is essentially Moses’ grand farewell address, but embedded in the text are significant events.
Complaining in the camp has been routine, but sometimes these complaints erupt. The people are sick and tired of manna—day after day, year after year. They long for the meat and vegetables of Egypt, and they grumble at Moses. God overhears and blasts Moses for it. Moses is taken aback: “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? So why dump the responsibility of this people on me? . . . I’ve had enough. Let me out of here.”[15]
God feels Moses’ pain and makes an unusual offer. He will take some of the Spirit that is on Moses and distribute it among seventy of the most trustworthy Israelite leaders. That will take some of the weight off Moses’ shoulders. Moses is further mollified when God provides meat by sending winds that blow massive flocks of quail in from the sea. So eager are the people to eat something other than manna that they eat themselves sick and die by the thousands.
When the Israelites had initially crossed the Red Sea to safety, Moses had expected to set out for Canaan and conquer the land. He did not, however, want to make hasty decisions that he would later regret. So now, more than a year later, he sends out twelve spies, one from each tribe. Returning after forty days, ten of them foretell dire consequences for Israel if they try to conquer the land. Only Caleb and Joshua present an optimistic report. The people are so upset by the negative news that they grumble against God.
From God’s perspective, this is a blatant betrayal. The death penalty is in order. Moses intervenes, pleading with God to spare his people. Nevertheless the punishment is severe. They are sentenced to wander in the wilderness for forty long years.
During the forty years of wandering in the wilderness, Moses continues to speak to the people, specifying God’s laws for everything from ritual cleanliness to punishment for sin. Yet there continues to be discontent and rebellion. In particular, three trouble-makers, Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with two hundred followers claim there should be some sort of a democracy rather than a dictatorship run by Moses. After all, God is in the whole community, not just one man. Moses, after throwing himself flat on the ground, gets up and calmly tells Korah that God will decide in the morning who governs Israel. He and his people are to return and bring incense to offer to God. Aaron must do the same.
The next day the glory of God shines as Korah, his cohorts, and all their people arrive. God tells Moses and Aaron to separate themselves and all the rest of the Israelites from those who have rebelled. Moses speaks to the people, telling them that God will decide who leads them—whether it is he or the rebels. No sooner does he finish speaking than the earth opens up and swallows these three rebels, their families, their cattle, and their belongings; and fire from heaven consumes their followers.
In spite of that incredible demonstration of God’s power, some of the people continue to mutter against the leadership of Moses and Aaron. God sends a plague as punishment, and 14,700 die as a result. Despite the loss of life, the rebellions against Moses and God just don’t end. Sometime after this, the Israelites set up their tents in Shittim near where Moabites have settled. Moabite women begin inviting Israelite men to join them in ritual meals and the worship of their god, Baal of Peor. The men might have ignored the request but for the fact that the worship involves sexual rites. So they readily join in.
God is enraged and tells Moses to hang them all. Word gets out and the people are beside themselves, crying out and begging forgiveness. Amid all this weeping, Zimri comes along and flaunts his immoral behavior. In fact, he brings a Midianite woman straight into a tent and has sexual relations with her. One of Aaron’s grandsons goes in after them and stabs his spear through both their bodies. This ends the religious sex rites, but not before twenty-four thousand more either are executed or die of the plague.
Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.
Numbers 12:3 (NIV)
Early on in Moses’ career, the Israelites had run out of water, and God told Moses to strike a rock and the water would come forth. Nearly four decades later this same problem develops again. The people are complaining not only about the detested manna but also about the lack of water. This time Moses and Aaron throw themselves before God, and God tells Moses to speak to the rock that stands in front of them.
But Moses doesn’t follow directions. He remembers the situation from before, and he doesn’t want to be made a fool of in front of the whole congregation. So he strikes—angrily strikes—the rock with his staff, not once but twice. Water does come forth, but God is irate. For their disobedience, Moses and Aaron will never set foot in the Promised Land.
The most recurring themes of the forty-year trek in the wilderness are disappointment with God and disillusionment with Moses. Things have not gone well, and they blame Moses for dragging them out to die in the godforsaken desert. It’s a miserable life, tedious, day after day the same. Not even a change of diet. They are sick of manna and the lack of good fresh spring water.
But every time they turn against God, like clockwork, they are punished. On one occasion they are on the road along the Red Sea when God has had all he can take of their complaining. So he sends snakes—countless poisonous serpents. People are dying right and left from the venomous bites. They cry out to Moses in repentance, pleading with him to pray to God to rid them of this awful infestation. Moses prays and God instructs him to fashion a copper serpent and hoist it up on a pole. “Whoever is bitten and looks at it,” God declares, “will live.”[16]
After so many years of their infidelities and subsequent punishments, God finally gives the Israelites a morale booster: victory over the Amorites and other tribes who threaten them.
When that journey is nearly over and Aaron has died on Mount Hor and has been “gathered to his people,”[17] God shows Moses the Promised Land from Mount Nebo in the land of Moab and tells him that this is where his descendants will live, but that he will not be able to enter it himself. Though well over one hundred, he still has good eyesight and walks with a brisk gait. He dies at age 120 and God buries him. Everyone weeps and mourns his passing.
His legacy is large. No Old Testament prophet equals Moses.
Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face, who did all those signs and wonders the LORD sent him to do in Egypt—to Pharaoh and to all his officials and to his whole land. For no one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of all Israel.[18]
Balaam: An Improbable Prophet
He lives along the bank of the Euphrates River in the town of Pethor—perhaps a shingle hanging from his house that reads “Prophet: No Appointment Necessary.” He’s a non-Israelite seer. But his reputation has gone before him into bordering lands. So it is that some officials arrive at his house one day. They know before they knock that he is Balaam, son of Beor, credited with working wonders through his god.
The officials are from Moab, commissioned by their king, Balak, to bring Balaam back with them. It seems the massive Israelite army is assembling on their border, and the Moabites will be slaughtered unless there is supernatural intervention. Balaam is the man for the job. The emissaries have a wad of money in their pockets and are prepared to pay Balaam well. He insists, however, that they stay the night with him to allow him time to make the decision.
That night God speaks to Balaam and asks about the visitors. Balaam relates the story, telling God that they want him to go with them and curse the Israelites. God makes it clear to Balaam that he should not go because the Israelites have his blessing. The next morning Balaam declines the offer from Balak’s officials. When they return to Balak, he sends them back with his highest emissaries and an even larger purse. In fact, Balak sends word that he’ll give Balaam anything he wants if only he will put a curse on the Israelites.
But Balaam is now on God’s side. To the officials he declares: “Even if Balak gave me his house stuffed with silver and gold, I wouldn’t be able to defy the orders of my GOD to do anything, whether big or little.”[19] But then he keeps the door open a crack by inviting them to stay the night so that he can once again consult with God.
The next morning, following God’s instructions, he agrees to follow behind them to Moab with his two servants. Along the way, his donkey suddenly veers into the ditch. Balaam hits the donkey so hard that she scrambles back on the road. But shortly thereafter, as they are going through a vineyard, the donkey jumps off the road again, slamming Balaam’s foot against a stone wall. Balaam is furious and strikes the donkey repeatedly.
Still again a short distance farther, at a narrow passage between two walls, the donkey stops dead in her tracks and lies down. This time Balaam loses his temper. He beats the donkey with his walking stick.
The donkey asks Balaam why he is beating her like this. Rather than being bowled over by a talking donkey, Balaam simply explains to her that she certainly deserved what she got and worse. In fact, if he had brought his sword along he would have killed her. “Am I not your trusty donkey,” the creature pleads. “Have I ever done anything like this to you before? Have I?”[20] Balaam concedes she has not.
Only then does God allow Balaam to see the light—more specifically, the angel that has been blocking his donkey’s path. Indeed, the angel is threatening him with a sword. Balaam falls on his face before the angel, who demands to know why he has been beating his loyal donkey. Balaam now knows he has sinned against God. The angel tells him to keep on going but not to say another word unless it comes from God.
King Balak, having gone out to meet Balaam, scolds him for his tardiness. Balaam tells him straight up that he is bound to speak only the words God gives him. So together they go into town, where Balak sets up a huge altar and sacrifices livestock. The next morning the two of them hike up to the highest point in the area to look down over the valley. Then Balaam instructs Balak to build seven more altars and sacrifice more animals. Balaam then leaves, hoping to get a message from God.
When he returns, he gives a message to Balak, essentially saying, “How can I curse whom God has not cursed? How can I damn whom GOD has not damned?”[21] Balak is not pleased with the message. He asks Balaam to come to another high point to get a better view, and there Balaam agrees to sacrifice more animals. This time after Balaam returns to Balak, he tells him that God brought him to this place to bless the Israelites, and he can do nothing other than that.
Still Balak doesn’t give up. He begs Balaam to do anything but bless the Israelites. So Balaam tells him to build still more altars and sacrifice more animals. This time when Balaam goes off by himself, he fully understands that God wants him to bless the Israelites—and that he’s not to work magic as he tried to do earlier. Then the Spirit of God comes upon him, and God makes it absolutely clear to Balaam that he must bless the Israelites, which Balaam does with startling clarity and vigor.
The books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Nehemiah put a different cast on the story. They tell of Balaam cursing the Israelites but God reversing the curse and turning it into a blessing.
In the New Testament, Balaam is said to have “loved the wages of wickedness” (2 Pet. 2:15), and the book of Revelation says that he “taught Balak to entice the Israelites to sin by eating food sacrificed to idols and by committing sexual immorality” (Rev. 2:14).
Balak is furious and tells Balaam to get out and go home—that he’s not getting one penny for his services. Balaam calmly reminds him that he would not have taken money anyway—that he is bound to obey God. Then after prophesying doom and gloom for Moab, Balaam heads for home.
The story does not end here, however. The next we learn of Balaam is that he has been killed with a sword during a battle with the Midianites, after which he is accused of having “enticed the Israelites to be unfaithful to the LORD.”[22]
Aaron: A Much-Appreciated Older Brother
Being the high priest, whose duty is to supervise all the religious rites and rituals for the Israelites, Aaron assumes a critical role in the development of the nation. But he always plays second fiddle to Moses. Moses and Aaron is the turn of phrase that most commonly bears his name.
Unlike his younger brother Moses, whose résumé includes accounts of a floating basket and burning bush, murder and marriage in between, Aaron appears out of nowhere. He is middle aged and on his way to Midian to see Moses, unaware that God has called his younger brother to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Nor does he know that he himself will be the public voice for his stuttering sibling. When they meet each other, coming from opposite directions, Aaron embraces and kisses his long-lost brother. Does Moses even know that Aaron is married to Elisheba and has four sons, Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar?
When Aaron and Moses arrive in Egypt, Aaron plays a key role in dealing with Pharaoh and the Israelite people. Indeed, without him, it is difficult to imagine that either side would have taken Moses seriously. Contact is made in person. Crisp communication is a must. Indeed, Aaron is one of the most effective communicators in the Bible, though many of his messages are opposed or ignored by his listeners.
Superior speaking skills, however, would have been utterly insufficient for the task Aaron is assigned. He needs God’s support, and he gets it. When it is time to show Pharaoh that Aaron’s speech is supported by supernatural power, Aaron turns his rod into a snake. When the Egyptian magicians duplicate the performance, his serpent swallows all of theirs. Then as plagues strike Egypt, Aaron continues to serve as the chief liaison between Pharaoh and God.
After the people escape Egypt, Aaron communicates with them, as when he announces God’s plan to send manna down from heaven. He and Moses confer on virtually every issue that arises, major and minor. He ascends the mountain with Moses prior to the giving of the Ten Commandments. Then after the covenant is ratified, he and two of his sons, as well as seventy elders, accompany Moses up the mountain. An interesting slight, however, occurs on their way up. He is left behind while Joshua alone accompanies Moses the rest of the way. What has happened? Moses and Aaron have been the ultimate partnership. Now it is Moses and Joshua, though Joshua does not enter the cloud to converse with God.
Moses alone receives God’s instructions relating to Aaron. Aaron is to be consecrated as the high priest of Israel (his sons as lesser priests). Indeed, the priesthood is to be the Aaronic priesthood that entails a very precise ordination ceremony and a wide range of duties, including making sacrifices and keeping lamps burning, as well as wearing special vestments.
God is communicating all these details regarding Aaron’s ministry while Aaron himself is having second thoughts. He goes back down the mountain and finds the people very anxious. Where is Moses? He’s been gone way too long. So the people acknowledge the smooth-talking Aaron as their leader. They insist that he do something, urging him to fashion gods who will lead them straightaway through this awful wilderness to the Promised Land. Moses has abandoned them. What else can they do?
So Aaron, sidekick of Moses, simply complies. Not one word about how terrible it would be to worship false gods. Rather, he tells the people to remove their rings and bring them to him. Then he melts down the gold and forms it into the likeness of a calf. The people are excited. After that he builds an altar in front of the image, announcing that the next day they will have a grand feast.
They arrive on the morrow and begin eating and drinking and dancing and having a regular wild time of it—that is, until Moses shows up. He’s furious with Aaron. Aaron acts sorry and shifts the blame to the people. In fact, Aaron, who fashioned the calf with his own hands, has the gall to add that he simply threw their jewelry into the fire and—voilà—out comes a calf. Disingenuous, to be sure.
Moses, directed by God, orders the Levites to kill three thousand people, and then God sends a plague. But Aaron? Amazingly he comes through this ordeal virtually unscathed. Not so long after this, Moses ceremonially washes him and dresses him in a special sashed tunic, a robe, a breastpiece, and a turban featuring a gold plate with the words “Holy to the Lord.”
Aaron’s sons, now also priests, are likewise dressed for the celebration. The sacrificial rites and rituals and ceremonies are detailed and complicated, but Aaron and his sons follow instructions from God, through Moses, and they manage to get everything right—except for a glitch involving sons Nadab and Abihu. Whether they were rebellious or careless, the text does not specify. But they clearly do something that offends God by offering an inappropriate kind of fire and incense. Perhaps they had taken a page from the rituals to pagan gods. But for that they are struck down by God and die on the spot.
Moses explains that God’s sudden anger relates to his holiness. Aaron doesn’t say a word. He remains silent. Then Moses orders the bodies hauled away and turns to Aaron and his surviving sons, Eleazar and Ithamar. He knows they are numb with grief, but he issues an order that on the surface appears unduly cruel: If they dare mourn, they too will die.
Soon after this, the surviving sons fail to make a proper sacrifice. This time Aaron comes to their aid immediately, pointing out that it is an honest mistake. These sons, unlike their brothers, are spared.
Because of what must have seemed like arbitrary power-grabbing by Moses, Aaron and sister Miriam are upset, though their issues relate to matters besides that of Moses’ apparently high-handed control. For one thing, they do not like Moses’ Cushite wife. But more than that, they believe they ought to wield more authority than they do. For their grumbling, Miriam is punished with leprosy. Aaron appears to get off scot-free.
After the rebellion and death-by-sinkhole of Korah and his cohorts, the people are once again complaining. Many are wondering why Aaron should wield so much power, second only to Moses himself. So God proffers a test. All the leaders of the tribes are to leave their staffs in the Tent of Meeting for the night. In the morning, it is obvious that Aaron’s high position of authority is authorized by God. His staff handle not only buds and blossoms, but is producing almonds.
Despite such recognition, Aaron, along with Moses, is punished by God and not allowed to enter the Promised Land. The two of them hike to the top of Mount Hor to take a look, but that is as close as they get. They are accompanied by Eleazar, Aaron’s son, and it is there that Moses gives Eleazar Aaron’s garments, thus symbolizing Eleazar’s succession as high priest. With that ceremony over, Aaron dies. He never makes it down from the mountain. His death is followed by thirty days of mourning in the Israelite camp.
Miriam: Prophet, Leader, and Leper
She is the older sister of Moses, no doubt the sister who was given the responsibility of watching the basket floating in the Nile with her baby brother inside. The next time we hear of her, she has left Egypt with all the children of Israel. There is nothing recorded of her reunion with Moses when he returns to Egypt with brother Aaron, who has gone out to meet him. But she crosses safely over the Red Sea with the Israelites, and she takes the lead as soon as it is learned that the Egyptian army has perished when God rolls back the water.
Miriam’s dance
She is identified as a prophetess, and in that role she grabs her tambourine and begins to dance and sing. So contagious is her act that all the women in the camp follow her lead—tambourines and dancing. She makes up the song on the spot—four short lines, catchy and easy to memorize:
Sing to God—
what a Victory!
He pitched horse and rider
into the sea![23]
But even a prophet is vulnerable to life’s normal ups and downs, temptations and sins. So it is with Miriam and Aaron, who with all the Israelites are camped at Hazeroth. They are criticizing Moses and especially their sister-in-law, his Cushite wife. But it is more than an in-law issue. There is the matter of Moses running the show. He has a pipeline to God. They are left out of the communications and conversations. It’s not fair.
God overhears their backbiting and summons all three of them for an appointment in the meeting tent. They arrive as God is coming down in a cloud. Then God approaches the opening of the tent and calls out Miriam and Aaron. He angrily reminds them that he speaks to prophets (as they rightly are) through visions and dreams. But he goes on to say that with Moses it is entirely different. He speaks to him in plain language as one person talks with another.
God leaves in the same cloud in which he had come. Aaron and Miriam are numb. They have just been berated by none other than God himself. But if that is not bad enough, Miriam suddenly realizes that her skin is all white with leprosy. Aaron is stunned to see his sister now a leper—afflicted with this terrible disease and an outcast forever.
Aaron begs brother Moses to undo this terrible misfortune. Moses prays for God to heal her. God responds by pointing out that if her own father had spit in her face—as God himself had essentially done—she would be sent out of the camp for seven days. So will it be with Miriam. She will be banished from the community—sent outside the camp and shunned for a week.
God would later warn the Israelites to remember what happened to Miriam—that she was quarantined, as all lepers should be. Miriam’s punishment and disease were not to be forgotten—nor was her leadership of the Israelites. Miriam dies and is buried in the parched Desert of Zin shortly before Aaron dies on the Mountain of Hor.
Much later, long after she and Aaron and Moses are dead, the prophet Micah, speaking for the Lord, remembers her along with her brothers:
I brought you up out of Egypt
and redeemed you from the land of slavery.
I sent Moses to lead you,
also Aaron and Miriam.[24]
Concluding Observations
Three siblings. The two older are natural leaders, Aaron a smooth talker, Miriam a charismatic leader whose dancing sparks a revival. They seem to have the qualities necessary to influence people and get things done. The youngest possesses no such traits. But God chooses him for the critical task that will have a profound influence and cast a spotlight on God’s people down to the present day.
Indeed, throughout history, to be a great leader is to be a Moses. Harriet Tubman, of Underground Railroad fame, is referred to as the Moses of her people. Brigham Young, who led his Mormon followers to Utah, is called the American Moses. Abraham Lincoln was a Moses. In recent times even the evil Kony, a rebel leader in Uganda, has identified himself as a Moses, ruthlessly demanding that the Ten Commandments be the law of the land.
There were certainly rebels who challenged Moses in his day, but their names have largely been lost in history’s scrap heap of failures. Balaam, pagan prophet who stood by Moses, might well be forgotten, but for his talking donkey.
Moses himself is a role model in part because, despite his deficiencies, he rises to the occasion and becomes one of the most heralded leaders in all history. He is endearing because he is the last person anyone could imagine capable of the job.
What was his secret?
By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward. By faith he left Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger; he persevered because he saw him who is invisible.[25]
Further Reading
Feiler, Bruce. America’s Prophet: Moses and the American Story. New York: William Morrow, 2009.
Kirsch, Jonathan. Moses: A Life. New York: Random House Ballantine, 1998.
Swindoll, Charles. Moses: A Man of Selfless Dedication. Nashville: Nelson, 1999.