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Toward a Land and a Renewal

“ . . . go and take possession of the land that I swore to your ancestors, . . . ”

—Deut 1:8b

Good storytellers know how to keep an audience on the edge of its seat. As the Book of Genesis illustrates so clearly, The One Great Story begins like a roller coaster ride, with ups and downs, twists and turns that can leave riders breathless—and perhaps even screaming now and then, with surprise and anxiety. Just when we think that things actually might settle down, something else happens—someone new appears on the scene, or someone important to the story line dies, or circumstances change. At any given point in This Story, things can look great. More often, however, they are dire and heading toward seemingly hopeless.

The One Great Story begins like a roller-coaster ride.

Yo-Yo Goes Up—and Then Down!

Joseph’s achievement in bringing his family to the security of Egypt is presented in grand terms: the most powerful empire of the day made room for a tiny band of wandering animal herders. The picture of patriarch Jacob being returned for burial near his grandfather Abraham’s burial site—with a Pharaoh’s escort, no less (Gen 50:7–14)—must have been, for Jacob’s descendants, a tremendously dramatic symbol of divine irony. Their God, the One who called them, turned the world’s political and economic powerhouse on its head! I can imagine that many descendants of Jacob might have wished that those circumstances would have stayed in place for a long, long time.

Well, as The Story goes, the good life in Egypt did last for a time. The Hebrews—descendants of Jacob—grew in number and strength in those years (Exod 1:7), but an era eventually passed, too. A new administration took over the empire: a new monarch ascended, one who did not know the story of Joseph’s life-saving service to Egypt. This pharaoh was afraid that the Israelites would turn against Egypt under pressure, so he did what many imperial rulers have done over the centuries: he made the Hebrews’ lives miserable. First, he made them construct cities and buildings for him and work on his crops; they were now his slaves. Then he told midwives to kill all boys born to Hebrew women. Although not all midwives obeyed this command, still the threat of male genocide hung over the now-enslaved community (Exod 1:8–22).

Within these ominous circumstances, a new episode is introduced—one that leads to another remarkable series of events, that becomes among The Story’s most vivid and memorable. Like so many of the episodes that will follow it, this one consists of unlikely interplay between people of low regard and those of high estate. Even more, the wildly vacillating fortunes of its main character display classic literary power. Some of you already remember bits and pieces of this part of The Story, and certainly its central figure is no stranger. Enter Moses.

Unlikely

If you are like me, you can recall something of Moses’ birth and early life from stories that you heard in Sunday school. When we were young, these accounts might have seemed cute, perhaps a little like a Shirley Temple movie. Make no mistake, however: the political ramifications of this baby’s eventual status would not have been lost on the episode’s early audiences.

How preposterous and delightful to hear that one of the Hebrew baby boys is saved from slaughter by a wily mother, who floated him down “the river” in a papyrus basket and sent his older sister to provide a report of his fate! How brave and clever of his sister to stay close enough to speak to the Pharaoh’s daughter who saw the floating basket while bathing there! How so like an absorbing story that the baby boy returns to his own mother, to be nursed and raised—and paid by Pharaoh’s daughter for the duty! How typical of an ancient story that the child becomes named because of the circumstances that led him to live in Pharaoh’s court (“Mosheh”—Moses; mashah—draw out [of the water]) (Exod 2:1–10).

The adopted heir to the great empire now lived as a fugitive.

The early years of Moses’ life are treated quickly and concisely; once again, his status changed radically. At this point, The Story leaves listeners a little unclear. By the time he was a young man, did Moses know that he was born a Hebrew? Details in The Story at this point suggest so but do not come right out and say it. When he saw the Egyptian man walloping one of the Hebrew workers, was Moses’ response driven by ethnic loyalty? Murder is a serious offense, and Moses’ attempt to hide his crime against the Egyptian guard did not succeed. He got scared the next day when another Hebrew worker mentioned the killing to his face, so Moses took off—and none too soon, for now Pharaoh knew of his crime and wanted his adopted son dead (Exod 2:11–15).

The adopted heir to the great empire now lived as a fugitive. After many days of travel, he ended up in a region known as Midian, southeast of Egypt, far away from Pharaoh’s grip. Moses still looked like an Egyptian when he helped some sisters get water for their father’s flock, after they had been harassed by some shepherds. This act of kindness led to Moses’ marriage to one of the man’s daughters, Zipporah. The man’s name was Jethro, and he was known as a priest (Exod 2:16–22). Moses then named his first child, a son, “Gershom,” a play on the Hebrew word ger, or “alien”—as though he still identified with his previous life in Egypt (Exod 2:22).

It looked like Moses could have settled into the nomadic, herding life, a safe distance from Egypt, raising a family, but The Story rarely allows its characters to sit still. Years went by, and the pharaoh—Moses’ adopted grandfather—eventually died. Yet Moses’ true people, the Hebrews/Israelites, continued to be enslaved. The storyteller, at this point, crisply notes that they sought God’s help and that God observed their condition. More specifically, the story says that God’s memory was jogged, that God recalled something from an earlier generation. What was it? Well, it was that promise, that pledge, that pact with those characters with whom The Story began—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Exod 2:23–25). This reference to these three figures will occur again and again throughout The Story. Here, it signals to the listener that something significant is about to take place. God is going to act.

Moses named his first child “Gershom,” or “alien.”

Reluctant

I can imagine—can’t you?—that the last thing on a fugitive’s mind is to return to the place where he is wanted. Moses now was a family man, working for his father-in-law, sheltered by the breadth of a forbidding desert from any consequences for his youthful aggression (Exod 3:1). And then one day, . . .

Pause to Reflect Whom do you know (or about whom have you heard) who at some time in their life escaped truly harrowing circumstances? What is their story? How do they talk about it—if at all? How does their story affect you?

A number of the Bible’s most well-known scenes occur early in the Old Testament, and “the burning bush” surely is one of them. Moses was out in the boonies, far from any signs of civilization, minding his flock and his own business, when something happened that would change his life and that of his people forever. The story suggests that it took Moses completely by surprise. After all, encounters with the divine are not an everyday occurrence! When God saw that the bush (which “was burning, yet it was not consumed” [Exod 3:2c]) got Moses’ attention, God called out his name. Without hesitation, Moses answered, and the words that he used—“Here I am”—also will appear a number of times on the lips of characters in later episodes (Exod 3:2–4).

God then kicked into high gear, calling the place “holy,” ordering Moses to take off his footwear, and identifying the divine voice as that of the God of Moses’ ancestors. Next, God issued a call to Moses, expressing concern for the enslaved Israelites, announcing the divine intention of freeing them and getting them “to a good and broad land.” Oh, and by the way, God told Moses that he was to go to Pharaoh and secure their release (Exod 3:7–10).

Now the stalling began. Moses came up with one excuse after another: “Who am I that I should go. . .?” (Exod 3:11b); “What shall I say to them (about your name)?” (Exod 3:13cd); “But suppose they do not believe me or listen to me. . .” (Exod 4:1); “O my lord, I have never been eloquent,” (Exod 4:10b); and the clincher, “O my Lord, please send someone else” (Exod 4:13). How ironic and fascinating, that a character who comes to play such a central role in The One Great Story is shown to hesitate at the call! I find some comfort in that—don’t you? God did not accept any of Moses’ excuses, instead telling him to get his brother Aaron to speak on Moses’ behalf. In the final part of this scene, God gave Moses a staff which he will use to demonstrate the power of Israel’s God (Exod 4:17).

How ironic that a character so central to The Story actually hesitated at the call!

Confrontations—and Escape!

Before Moses and Aaron visited the (new) Pharaoh, they gathered all the Israelite elders and told them of God’s intentions. The people must have been impressed with the “signs” that the staff from God made possible: they showed their trust in the men’s story by worshipping the LORD (Exod 5:29–31). Then it was time to face Pharaoh.

The specific story line leading up to the eventual release of the Israelite slaves is long, sometimes complicated, and often ghastly by today’s Western standards. As with all of the first five books of the Bible, this sequence can seem a little confusing, with evidence of two or three versions woven together in providing accounts of the tradition. From Sunday school days, some of us remember strange images referring to one or more of the “plagues” sent upon Egypt. Before these appear, however, Moses and Aaron fumbled ineffectively through their first clash with Pharaoh. The latter refused to allow the Israelites to leave for a religious observance, instead taking away one of the key ingredients that the slaves needed for making bricks (Exod 5). Moses complained to God about it, and God (“the LORD”) reassured him again that, as the God who appeared to the ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, God will rescue them and take them to the land of promise (Exod 6:1–8).

Not long afterward, the plagues began. In order, they were:

•the Nile River turned to blood (Exod 7:14–25);

•frogs throughout the land (Exod 8:1–15);

•gnats flying on people and animals (Exod 8:16–19);

•swarms of flies (Exod 8:20–31);

•deadly pestilence on Egyptian (only) livestock (Exod 9:1–7);

•boils on humans and animals (Exod 9:8–12);

•damaging thunder and hail (Exod 9:13–35);

•swarms of locusts eating all plants and fruits (Exod 10:1–20);

•three days of total darkness (Exod 10:21–29);

•and the final plague, death of all firstborn humans and animals (Exod 11:1–10, 12:29–32)

Each time the next plague arrived, Pharaoh would not let the people go, even though sometimes he said that he would do so—and then go back on his word. Plague number ten, death itself, indeed struck all the Egyptian households, but since the Israelites were instructed ahead of time to mark their doorposts with lamb’s blood, the plague of death would not enter their homes (Exod 12:3–13, 21–23). Instead, the Israelites had prepared to leave quickly, and—once Pharaoh said the word—they did so. At last, they were free!

Pause to Reflect What is the longest journey that you ever took? What were its high moments and low times? When it was over, how did you think and feel about it?

Escape from oppression. The Story says that the Israelites left Egypt with their possessions, including their animals, and unleavened dough for bread in slings on their backs. Not only that, but the Egyptians were so glad to get the Israelites out of their land, they gave them jewelry made of silver and gold (Exod 12:30–36)! As Pharaoh gave Moses and Aaron his sudden permission for the people to leave, he referred to their earlier request for a religious celebration. Now, perhaps with storytelling irony, Pharaoh urged them to worship—not Egyptian gods, but the LORD God (the one who is rescuing them). Even more ironic is Pharaoh’s parting request—perhaps beseeching them—to seek favor from Israel’s God for Pharaoh himself (Exod 12:32)! Thus, as will be the case many times throughout it, The Story reveals characters from a different, often oppressive, society almost begrudgingly acknowledging the God of the chosen people.

The Story includes characters outside of the Promise who acknowledge the LORD.

It’s Not Over

Tradition named this central part of The Story “the Exodus,” from the Greek words that mean “a way out.” The second book of the Hebrew Bible gets its name from this episode, and the Passover traditions in Judaism originate here (instructions for these traditions appear in the text, interrupting the flow of one dramatic escape episode to another). Yet we have not finished following the Israelites out of immediate danger. God’s presence led the people as they began their journey away from Egypt: it was known as a pillar of cloud during the daytime and a pillar of fire in the darkness of night (Exod 13:21–22).

Meanwhile, Pharaoh and his court had a change of heart. They decided that they did not like the fact that their slaves had left, lock, stock, and barrel, so they went after the Israelites with everything they had. When the Israelites saw the chariots and army approaching, they panicked and complained mightily to Moses about their impending fate. Moses told the people not to be afraid, that the LORD, their god, would deliver them. First, the pillar of cloud protected them from Egypt’s army. Then, after the Israelites passed through the sea that God divided with a strong wind, the Egyptian army got stuck in the mud as they pursued Israel. Finally, at the LORD’s command, Moses once again stretched out his hand over the sea, and the sea went back as it was, sweeping up all the chariots and soldiers of Pharaoh’s army. They all perished, but Israel survived on dry ground (Exod 14).

Moses told the people not to be afraid, that their god, the LORD, would deliver them.

This episode concludes with the storyteller noting that the people recognized the LORD’s action on their behalf—saving them from annihilation—and that they therefore put their trust in this God (and Moses) (Exod 14:31). As we heard earlier, this is the God of their ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the One who issued a call and a promise for blessing through a band of unlikely folks. Not even the grandiose and tyrannical intentions of the ruler of the world’s strongest empire would thwart the purposes of God.

From the Frying Pan . . . ?

After such a spectacular rescue, Israel simply had to celebrate! The Story preserves some poetic verse that remembers the event with vivid imagery and gives all the credit to the LORD. Both Moses and his sister, Miriam, led the singing (Exod 15:1–21). But the celebration could not last forever: the people had a calling to fulfill, and The Story keeps making it clear that the LORD will guide and protect them.

If only the people could have trusted that promise! They did a lot of complaining as they traveled. First, it was about water that tasted bad—so Moses did what God showed him to do, and the water tasted better (Exod 15:22–25). Then they got hungry and were sure that life back in Egypt at least would have provided them food enough. So God gave Moses and Aaron a “heads up” about what would happen next, along with some instructions and restrictions. Each morning, “a fine flaky substance” appeared on the ground. This substance was edible and would sustain the Israelites on their journey. They were to collect only as much as they needed for the day; leftovers spoiled by morning. On the sixth day of the week, the people gathered twice as much, so that on the seventh day, Sabbath, they could rest and still have something to eat (Exod 16:1–30).

Those of us who went to Sunday school very likely remember that this substance was called “manna.” The name appears to be a play on the Hebrew words, man hu, which in English is “What is it?” (Exod 16:15, 31). Don’t think that God does not have a sense of humor—at least, the ancient storytellers did! God then told Moses to put some of this manna in a jar and keep it for posterity, to remind Israelite descendants of who sustained them on their journey out of Egypt (Exod 16:32–34).

Pause to Reflect What do you complain about? What do the people whom you know best tend to complain about? What do these complaints reveal about you and them?

As The Story goes, the Israelites spent a lot of time in the wilderness, and much of the time, they did not display appreciation for the One who had rescued them. They complained—a lot! For instance, in the story about receiving the manna every morning, forms of the word “complain” appear seven times in just eleven verses (Exod 16:1–11). They complained, and fussed at Moses, when a new campsite had no water (Exod 17:1–7). (There are plenty more examples, but I don’t want to get ahead of where we are in The Story.) As we will see soon, the Israelites also would stray from following the LORD. The Story makes it clear—sometimes in unadorned terms—that God expected their loyalty and trust.

The Israelites often did not appreciate the One who had rescued them.

“Here’s the Deal”

On the move in a dangerous land, the Israelites traveled for several weeks before arriving at a place known as “Sinai.” It was at this location that another series of significant events took place. Sinai also is part of the wilderness in that region, and the people set up camp there. God called Moses up to a mountain and reminded him of their rescue and of God’s intention that they “be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation” (Exod 19:6). When they heard back from Moses, the people agreed to follow the LORD (Exod 19:8). So the people, by God’s instruction, prepared for a divine encounter, with smoke, fire, the mountain shaking, and a trumpet blasting. The people did not get to “see” God, but they knew that Moses was going up and down the mountain. Now the stage was set for probably the most far-reaching part of their deal with God (Exod 19:9b–25).

Moses received from God ten “words,” or laws, during this dramatic moment on the mountain. We know them today most commonly as “the Ten Commandments.” These ten have to do with loyalty to the LORD and with relationships to other persons (Exod 20:1–17). Some of us remember trying to memorize these ten when we were in Sunday school. By this point in The Story, the people seemed suitably impressed by the natural display of power to ask Moses for protection (Exod 20:18–21). The moment is presented here and elsewhere as a very solemn episode in the life of the Israelites. Following the pronouncement of the ten words come long sections in the text that explain related laws, such as those about slaves (Exod 21:1–11), about different categories of persons physically hurting each other (Exod 21:12–27), about property (Exod 21:28–36), about making property amends (Exod 22:1–15), and some other social and religious practices (Exod 22:16–31).

Within the first books of the Bible, there are a number of other long sections that spell out regulations that the Israelites are expected to follow. The flow of The Story sometimes is “interrupted” by these sections. In general, they appear where they are in part to remind listeners that these divine expectations are not arbitrary: rather, following such “rules” expressed one’s loyalty to the One who brought them out of the land of Egypt, the One who called Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Who is that One? It is none other than the God of the burning bush, the LORD, YHWH in Hebrew, a name that plays on the verb “to be” (see Exod 3:13–15). Israel’s God is “I AM WHO I AM”—a god who cannot be manipulated by humans who try to use a divine name for leverage and advantage. The storytellers seek to keep this God and this narrative paramount; the codes, regulations, and law serve a bigger purpose. “We live a certain way, because we belong to this God.”

Israel’s God is “I AM WHO I AM”—a god who cannot be manipulated.

It might seem difficult to keep religious rules in perspective when Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy contain so many of them! Besides statutes about behaviors and consequences, the episode of Moses on the mountain with God also looks distracted by details of religious observances, objects, offices, and structures (see Exod 24–31). Yet, in the midst of these long sidebars, one short section stands out. It speaks of using the legal system for the purpose of justice, rather than one’s own gain. Persons with whom one does not get along; those who are poor; non-Israelites who live among Israelites—these are people who are to be protected. In particular, the storyteller connects fair treatment of “strangers” with Israel’s own Story: “you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (Exod 23:9).

Thus, in the text as we have inherited it, the foundations of life as God’s called community have been woven into the dramatic Story of oppression, rescue, wandering, and covenant. Eventually, Moses came down the mountain, carrying two stone tablets bearing those decisive ten words (Exod 31:18), the central symbol of what the LORD wanted from—and for—The People. In spite of all this, however, what Moses found when he returned led quickly to a crisis of immense magnitude.

When the Cat’s Away, . . .

Pause to Reflect Try to recall your earliest memory of rules and laws. What were they? How did you deal with them? How have your attitudes toward rules and laws changed as you have gotten older? What makes “the ten words” different from other kinds of law?

As we continue to see over and over again, the People called by God to bless all the nations of the earth were not selected because of their superior faith and behavior. While Moses was away, This People seem to have forgotten their Story; they got impatient when he had not returned yet. In their minds, it was time to find someone else to get them out of the boondocks. So, they collected their gold jewelry and melted it down, to craft a statue of a calf. This imposing figure of strength was supposed to represent the god who had rescued them (Exod 32:4b). A big celebration kicked off, with lots of singing and dancing. You can guess, though, that God was ticked off—and so was Moses. This “golden calf” worship veered the people away from trust in the LORD. The people subsequently were punished, and yet—and yet—still God told Moses to keep leading them toward the land of Promise (Exod 32).

That Promise was made by the LORD to Israel’s ancestors, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Exod 33:1). Through Moses, God gave them the ten words as a covenant, an agreement, a two-way deal. God will bring This People to a land, and they will be a blessing to all nations; This People will live with complete loyalty to God (YHWH, the LORD), expressing that loyalty in the ways that they worship God and treat others. Faith resulting in ethical behavior was intended to create and sustain God’s purposes for the world, through The People called to this task.

God’s purposes were to be sustained by faith and ethical behavior.

At this part of The Story, then, the LORD renewed the covenant. Moses prepared two stone tablets again, and God wrote the ten words on them again (Exod 34). Then The People received directions on constructing and fashioning a number of objects that they would use in their worship—an ark, utensils, lamps, altars, pillars and screens, garments for the priests, and so on (Exod 35–40). Such descriptions and directives are elaborated in more than one place: for instance, the Book of Leviticus contains twenty-seven chapters about sacrifices, offerings, dietary rules, ritual purification, and so on. To many Western readers today, these descriptions are impressive in detail but not necessarily instructive or appealing. The style of worship suggested by the many artifacts mentioned here speaks of a world remote and even vanished. Yet, in the text as we have inherited it, The Story includes these details. They do not advance The Story as such, but they do ground it in a specific time and place. The One Great Story rarely has the flavor of a generic brand: rather, its power draws from its distinctive particularity.

After receiving (again) the covenant with the ten words, Moses and the Israelites continued their journey, for they were still in the wilderness. It turns out that, once again, their Story entailed a transition. In this case, it was something like a changing of the guard. The people who escaped oppression in Egypt traveled—or should we say, “wandered?”—through wilderness lands for a long, long time. Moses remained as the figure selected by God to lead them. In their many preparations for their next phase of travel (and adventure!), the Israelites seemed compliant overall with conditions of their covenant relationship (see Num 1–10). Their attitude suddenly changed, however, once they broke camp and were back on the road. In the first instance, “the rabble among them” (Num 11:4) stirred up discontent about the available diet (this theme sounds familiar). Eventually, so many years went by that everyone who had left Egypt died on the journey (Num 26:64–65).

God’s people still were having a hard time trusting the One who had called them and saved them. They were heading toward Canaan, an area in the region that has figured in their Story from generations past. At the LORD’s instruction, Moses sent out spies to bring back information about the land, the towns, and the people. The spies returned, saying good things about the land and its fruits but holding no hope that its occupants could be conquered (Num 13). The People panicked, wailing and complaining, even talking of a mutiny to return to Egypt! Even Joshua and Caleb, two of Moses’ assistants, could not reassure them: the people (“the whole congregation”) were ready to kill them (Num 14:1–10).

Moses prayed hard to the LORD on their behalf, and the journey continued—however, Moses now knew that it would be the next generation who would get there. All those complainers would not live long enough to enter the land of the Promise, only their children (Num 14:13–25). They did not trust in God to fulfill this promise.

Pause to Reflect What does it take for you to continue working toward a goal once you discover that it is not as quick or easy to achieve as you might have thought?

This journey toward Promise faced many challenges. Sometimes the challenges were political (as with Edom, Num 20:14–21); sometimes they took on military aspects, as with the kings of the Amorites and Bashan (Num 21:21–35) and of Midian (Num 31). Other times, there were religious overtones to circumstances, as with the Moabites, Balak, and Balaam (Num 22–24) and with the gods worshipped by the residents of Shittim (Num 25). According to one summary of the journey, the Israelites pulled up stakes, traveled, and set up camp in thirty different places (Num 33:1–37)! Some of the accounts of battles and spoil strain our twenty-first-century sensitivities—even though many of today’s television programs and movies are at least as violent. However, what remains consistent throughout this early phase of The Story, in our inherited configuration of it, is that the LORD God intended to fulfill a promise and a vision.

This journey toward Promise faced many challenges.

For Moses himself, some of this fulfillment would end up tasting bittersweet. The reluctant “leader” of this stiff-necked band of escaped slaves remains the central figure throughout many episodes of The Story. Death comes to us all, and it finally came also for Moses. There was a wrinkle to his death, though, as the Israelites prepared for what would be their final chapter of post-Egypt wanderings. Moses would not go with them, but another one would lead them. God authorized Joshua to take over from Moses, to head the people’s final push (Deut 31:1–8). The reason? Lack of trust in God, sinful behavior—whether the particular storyteller was blaming Moses (Num 20:12–13), Moses and Aaron (Deut 32:50–51), or the people themselves (Deut 3:26). So God showed Moses all the land waiting for the Israelites, as he stood on Mt. Nebo; then he died in a place called “the plains of Moab” and was buried there. He was still a vigorous guy at his death, and the people mourned for him thirty days (Deut 34:1–8).

Now it was Joshua’s turn. He was chosen by God to succeed Moses, and he also would have his hands full.

“Joshua fit the battle . . . ”

The most detailed versions of what often has been called “the conquest of the land” appear in the Book of Joshua (2–12). It contains dramatic speeches and predicaments, acts of valor, wondrous and unlikely military victories, disobedience, and regular reminders of Who ultimately is leading the Israelites and providing for them. This conquest includes strategic support from none other than a local prostitute, named Rahab (Josh 2)—and this will not be the last time that we hear of her! Perhaps the most well-known place name from this series of episodes is Jericho. Once the Israelites had the town surrounded (they characteristically were protected on all sides by strong, high walls), Joshua received an odd set of divine instructions. They followed those instructions to the letter.

For six days, early in the morning, the Israelite soldiers marched around the city walls, silently and just one time, followed by seven priests who blew trumpets made of rams’ horns. On the seventh day, they marched around the city seven times and, at Joshua’s command, all the Israelites shouted. When they did so, those walls hit the ground, and the city was defeated. The only residents who were spared were Rahab and her family, because she had helped Joshua’s spies (Josh 6). Military success also took place at a city known as Ai (Josh 8) and against a number of “kings” in the region (Josh 10:16—11:21; 12:7–24). The locations of these conquests, and of the peoples who lived there, clearly held a high value within the storytelling traditions. Those places serve to spell out the geographical parameters of what descendants claimed as “the Promised Land” from God.

Once the land was secured, God made it clear that its settlement by the Israelites would be no free-for-all. Clans would receive apportionments as inheritances (Num 33:53–54); the boundaries were delineated (Num 34:1–15; see also Josh 13–19 for more detail); specific persons were selected to oversee the apportionment of the land (Num 34:16–29). The Promise was almost here! The descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—all twelve tribes of them—were about to begin the life which the LORD had pledged a long, long time earlier. Their leader, Joshua, had taken over from Moses and led them to this place. For a time, they lived in peace (Josh 23:1).

The Promise was almost here!

Now Joshua himself was nearing the end. Like Moses before him (Deut 32, 33), and the patriarch Jacob before them (Gen 49), Joshua gathered all the people and their officials, to a place called Shechem, and delivered a final speech. It was not as long as the one that Moses is reported to have made, but its brevity perhaps makes it more compelling. Joshua began this address first by summarizing their Story: “Long ago your ancestors . . . lived beyond the Euphrates and served other gods” (Josh 24:2). The voice in this part of the speech, however, is not Joshua’s, but God’s—“The LORD, the God of Israel.” Joshua here speaks God’s word to the people, “Thus says the LORD, . . .” Surely the contrast between “other gods” and “the LORD, the God of Israel” would have been strikingly apparent to its listeners.

Pause to Reflect What was the most important thing to you as a child? Do you remember why? Now finish this sentence: “At this point in my life, I have given my heart to ___________.” Why this?

This recital is tightly delivered, beginning with a mention of Abraham’s father, Terah, and moves quickly to Abraham’s own journey. Abraham’s “legitimate” son Isaac is mentioned, along with Isaac’s twins, Jacob and Esau. Jacob’s eventual settling in Egypt is mentioned, as are Moses and Aaron. The escape from Egypt, the Red Sea rescue, the years of wilderness wanderings, successful battles—including Jericho—also are included. In this condensed version of The Story, in the English translation, the LORD speaks in first person about eighteen times in twelve verses (Josh 24:2–13). God’s part of Joshua’s speech ends with a reminder that the Israelites did not achieve victory or gain their land by their own power. They now had the land, its towns, and its bounteous harvests, simply and only because God had provided them (Josh 24:13).

Yet the speech did not end there: it immediately shifted, to a “therefore” clause in the line of thought. Joshua threw down a gauntlet before The People: follow the LORD only. Get rid of those other gods—whether the ones that came from Terah’s homeland, or the ones that they found in Egypt, or the ones that already were in the Land before the people took it over (Josh 24:14–15). The point is clear: for Joshua, there was only one god whose actions on The People’s behalf warranted their loyalty and complete commitment. He and his clan would throw in their lot with the LORD.

In response to Joshua’s call for a decision, the people also said “yes” to the LORD. They acknowledged what this God had done for them, and they declared their loyalty as well (Josh 24:16–18). Two more times, Joshua pressed the people about this decision, and twice more they pledge their allegiance: “The LORD our God we will serve, and [this god] we will obey” (Josh 24:24). At that point, Joshua wrote it all down and moved a big stone to mark the location of their affirmation. The renewal ceremony was concluded, and all the people returned to their allotted lands (Josh 24:25–28). Then Joshua died and was buried; from there, the storyteller noted that the people remained loyal to the LORD throughout the lifetimes of those elders who had served with Joshua (Josh 24:31). Once more, a major chapter comes to a close.

Two more times, Joshua pressed the people, and both times they pledged to serve the LORD.

When “Over” is Not Over

Yet The Story does not end here, and it certainly does not contain the words “and they lived happily ever after.” The Israelites were faced with developing many aspects of their community, as they began to live into their calling; numerous passages in Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy signify the ways in which social, economic, judicial, and international dimensions were infused with the religious foundation of their existence. This people belonged to the LORD God—no other—and was expected to live that way. As with previous periods of their existence, the Israelites quickly discovered that life in the Promised Land also was a time of transition itself, another shift in their life and charge. One key element of that shift was the absence, shall we say, of a single human position of authority that was recognized by all the tribes. Once they all had settled in, there was no Jacob, or Joseph, or Moses, or Joshua to speak for God or lead the people through crisis.

What could provide the people of Promise with the confidence and security that they needed? How well would they remember The Story of how they became who they were, and of their purpose? What would happen to this People? Answers to these questions are not simple, and they lead us into the next part of the journey that comprises The Story.

For the Reader

1.Moses became a leader in great crisis for the Israelites. Why, then, might the early storytellers have included episodes that reveal a reluctant, and sometimes angry, Moses?

2.Read Exod 21:1–17, the “ten words” that God spoke to Moses on Mt. Sinai. Which one is the easiest for you to understand? The most difficult? How do you think those earliest Israelites thought about these “words” as a way of life?

3.Whom do you find it easiest to trust? Hardest? Why? Why do you suppose the Israelites during exodus, wilderness, and entrance into the land found it so hard to trust in the LORD?

4.Do you think that the presence of military activity in the Bible constitutes a blanket justification of war? How would you explain your answer?

Suggested Activities

•Jot down a list of groups of people you can name, from history or today’s headlines, who were or are being used by others for their benefit. How might such peoples interpret Pharaoh’s enslavement of the Hebrews?

•Find an edition of the Bible that includes a map showing the possible route of the Israelites through the desert and eventually into the land. There was a much shorter way to get there! What is there about this part of The Story that might explain why their route became so circuitous?

•Ask a friend what she or he knows about these stories with Moses, Pharaoh, the Exodus, wilderness, and entering the Promised Land. What impressions do they have about the value of these stories?