A Lineage of Grace (21 page)

They plodded along, stubbornly hanging on to everything they owned. Rahab cursed in frustration. A crowd was pressing through the gates. Someone was shrieking. Someone had probably fallen and was now being trampled. They sounded like a mob of wild animals, fists flying as those who were stronger tried to beat their way ahead of everyone else.

Someone banged on her door. “Rahab!” Mizraim called. “Let us in!”

She yanked the bar up and opened the door so that he and his wife, Basemath, could enter. They were carrying their two children. Jobab and his wife, Gowlan, were hurrying down the street, shouting for their children to hurry ahead. They all looked wild-eyed and pale with fear, and everyone carried something. Rahab shook her head at their choices as they entered her house: a pot; a painted urn; a basket containing a kohl bottle, tweezers, an ointment box, jewelry, and a horn of oil.

Mizraim’s baby boy screamed until Basemath sat on Rahab’s bed and nursed him. When footsteps raced across Rahab’s roof, Mizraim’s daughter dropped the urn. It shattered on the floor. Mizraim shouted at her. Crying hysterically, the little girl ran to her mother and clung to her.

“Hush, Mizraim. You’re behaving as badly as those madmen at the gate. You’re only frightening the children more.” Rahab scooped up the little girl and hugged her. “We’re all safe here, Bosem.” She kissed her cheek. “Everything will be all right.” She waved her hand, beckoning the others. “Come on, children. All of you. I have some things for you.” She set Bosem on her feet and put out a basket of painted sticks and knucklebones. “Awbeeb, my sweet, come play with your cousins.”

Rahab’s sisters, Hagri and Gerah, and their husbands, Vaheb and Zebach, arrived with their children in tow. “People are going mad out there!” Seeing the others, the boys and girls joined their cousins in their games of knucklebones and pickup sticks.

“Where are Father and Mother?” Jobab said.

“I lost sight of them when they joined the crowd at the gate,” Rahab answered, nodding toward the window as she took the baby from Basemath. “See if you can spot them, Mizraim.” She lifted the child to her shoulder and held him close, patting his back and pacing.

“I heard the guards are going to close the gate,” Jobab said.

“They’ll let everyone in,” Rahab said calmly. “The king will want every able-bodied worker inside before the gates are closed. If his army perishes, he’ll have the citizenry standing on the walls and throwing rocks.” She was angry that her father hadn’t done as she told him. He and her mother should have dropped everything and come running with the first cry of that soldier running up the road. Had they listened, they would have been spared the violence at the gate. She hoped they wouldn’t be hurt in the pushing and shoving mob trying to get inside the city walls.

“I’ll go out and find them,” Mizraim said. “Bar the door behind me, Zebach.”

When an hour passed and he hadn’t returned, Basemath began weeping.

“As soon as Father and Mother make it into the city, he’ll come back,” Rahab said, trying to stay calm for the children’s sake. She could see the throng from her window and knew the city was filling with those who lived outside the walls. Even traveling merchants and caravans were clamoring to be let in.

“Let us in!” It was Mizraim. The women all sighed in relief as Zebach threw the bar off and yanked it open. Basemath ran to her disheveled husband and sobbed against his torn tunic. Rahab’s father was just behind him, his face bleeding.

Rahab poured some water into a bowl and then saw her mother dragging her bundle into the house. Thrusting the bowl into Hagri’s hands, Rahab strode across the room. “What’s so important you’d risk your lives to bring it with you?” she demanded, reaching for the bundle.

“No!” Her mother slapped her hands away, crying out. “No, no!”

Rahab fought tears of exasperation. She was so relieved to see them safe and yet so angry at their foolishness. She forced herself to display a calm she was far from feeling. “Here. Let me take it. I’ll be careful. Let go!”

Weeping, her mother sank to the floor, exhausted. She covered her head with her shawl and sobbed.

Her father brushed away Hagri’s attempts to aid him and stumbled wearily to the window. “Did you see it? Did you see what happened? The water rolled back like a carpet, toward the town of Adam and the Salt Sea.”

“I saw,” Rahab said. “The hand of God has come upon the land, and He will brush away His enemies like stones on a game table.”

Her father turned away from the window and sat heavily on the step she’d built. Rahab had never seen him so exhausted. He was trembling, and his face was sweating profusely. “You’re right, Rahab. They will destroy us. They’re coming across the plains of Moab like locusts, and they’ll destroy everything in their path.”

“Hush, Father.” Everyone was frightened enough without his fanning the flames of doom. She took the bowl of water from Hagri and knelt down before her father. She spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “As long as we stay inside this house, we’re safe.” Squeezing out the cloth, she dabbed his face gently.

“Never have I seen such a thing in all my life.” Still shaking, he closed his eyes and swallowed. “Never have I even dreamed of seeing such a thing as happened today.” He made fists on his knees, his body rigid with fear. “Never have I beheld such a terrifying God as this!”

“And the men who serve this God have promised to spare us.” Setting the bowl aside, Rahab put her hands over his, gripping them tightly. “Remember the crimson cord that hangs out of my window. When the day of destruction comes, we will not perish.”

* * *

The multitude stood on the west bank in Gilgal, east of Jericho, and watched as each of the twelve tribal representatives shouldered the largest stone he could carry and brought it into the midst of the camp. There the stones were set upright in a line, side by side, as a memorial of what God had done that day. Joshua took twelve men back down into the dry riverbed, where they piled up twelve more stones to remember the place where the Lord had brought them across the Jordan.

When the priests carried the Ark of the Covenant forward out of the dry riverbed, the sound of many waters came rushing. The river rumbled, racing down the riverbed from north and south, smashing together over the twelve stones. Once again, the Jordan overflowed its banks.

Joining thousands of others, Salmon cried out with joy as the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord came into the camp called Gilgal. The multitude raised their hands and voices in worship to the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who had brought them into the Promised Land.

* * *

Inside the walls of Jericho, the people waited, paralyzed with fear. Those who hadn’t been able to get inside the city before the gates were shut and the beams rammed into place had fled over the mountain road to find protection among the kingdoms in the hill country. Some would go as far as the Mediterranean. And everywhere they traveled, they spread the news: The God of Israel dried up the Jordan River so the Hebrews could cross over!

The Israelites are in Canaan!

FIVE

Caleb gathered all the men and boys of Judah. “We have entered Canaan on the day of preparations for Passover, and Joshua has received these instructions from the Lord: the entire male population of Israel must be circumcised.”

All those present knew that their fathers, who had been circumcised upon leaving Egypt, had lived under God’s wrath because they continued to think and act like slaves rather than as free men chosen to be a holy nation. Thus, the fallen generation had not been allowed to circumcise their sons. But now the promise was about to be fulfilled. The hand of God would bring the seed of Israel safely into the land of Canaan. But before that could happen, God wanted His people to become a circumcised nation once again.

Salmon stood waiting among thousands of his brethren. There were males of all ages, from babes in arms to men ten years older than his twenty-six years. To keep himself from thinking about the knife, he looked at the walls of Jericho. Would it matter if the enemy knew he and all the rest of the warriors would be incapacitated for a few days? They would be vulnerable and easily defeated, just as the Shechemites had been four centuries ago when Jacob’s sons took vengeance over the rape of their sister. Yet Salmon felt no fear. God had performed a miracle before Jerichoan eyes. They wouldn’t dare open the gates and come out against Him. No, they would stay tightly holed up in their walled city. They were paralyzed with fear. The enemy would watch as Israel was circumcised. Let them watch, tremble, and do nothing. Passover was coming, and all Israel would remember the night the angel of death had passed over the Hebrew slaves who’d painted their door lintels with the lamb’s blood, moving on to strike down all the firstborn of Egypt.

A boy cried out in pain. Salmon winced in sympathy. Six men went ahead of him before it was his turn.

“Salmon,” Caleb said solemnly as he approached. After performing the rite, Caleb blessed him. “Just as you have entered into the covenant, so may you enter into marriage and good deeds.”

“May the Lord make me His servant!” Salmon steadied himself before standing. For one second, he was sure he would faint and humiliate himself, but the light-headed sensation passed quickly. He returned to his tent and knelt on his mat. Bowing his head to the ground, he thanked God that he was one of His chosen people.

By the end of the day, he lay upon his mat, every movement causing pain. Every male had been circumcised. The Israelites were now freeborn children of God, no longer tainted by the idolatry of Egypt.

The covenant had been renewed.

* * *

“Give me that!” Rahab yanked a clay idol from her sister’s hand and marched to the window.

“What are you doing?” Hagri cried out, getting up and racing after Rahab. “No!”

“What do you mean by bringing this wretched thing into my house?” Rahab hurled the false god out the window and watched it explode into pieces on the rocky ground below.

Hagri blanched. “The gods will avenge your disrespect!”

“If that thing held any power, would it have let me toss it out the window? Use the head you were born with, Hagri. Do you think that idol can bring us harm? It’s nothing but clay. There is only one God, and He is the God of heaven and earth. He’s the God who rolled back the Jordan a few days ago! Have you forgotten so quickly? Bow down to
Him
!”

Her father and mother and sisters and brothers and their children were all staring at her in frightened confusion. She was so angry she was shaking, but shouting at them wasn’t going to make them understand. Why were they so stiff-necked and foolish? Why were they so stubborn?

She strove to speak calmly. “Our only hope is in the God of the Hebrews. We must get rid of everything that insults Him. Have you any other idols hidden among your possessions?” When they just stared at her and said nothing, she almost erupted in fury. “Spread out your things! Let me see what abominations you’ve brought into my house!”

Grudgingly, they began spreading out their possessions a few at a time. Vaheb, Hagri’s husband, set out a clay-filled skull with shell eyes. “My father,” he said when Rahab looked at it. “He was a wise man.”

“Wise and
dead
.”

“Our ancestors advise us!”

“To do what? Become like them? Do you think that skull filled with dirt can tell you the way to escape the coming judgment?
Get rid of it!
”

“It’s my father!”

“Your father is dead, Vaheb. A pity his head wasn’t buried with him.”

“Rahab!” her father said. “You’ve said enough!”

“I will have said and done enough when these things are thrown out that window!” Her brothers and sisters protested, but she outshouted them. “Should I have your deaths upon my conscience? Listen to me! All of you! That skull filled with
dirt
is nothing but a filthy idol and an insult to the God of the Hebrews. Get rid of it!
Get it out of my house!
”

“Abiasaph!” Vaheb appealed to Rahab’s father. “Do you agree with her?”

Rahab felt the heat rush into her face as they turned away from her leadership. She pointed to the window. “Look out there! How many thousands do you see? And they all
walked
across the Jordan River, which is now flooded again. Do you wish to trust the God who brought them to the plains of Jericho, or do you want to trust a dead man’s skull?”

No one said anything for a moment. Then her father spoke. “Do as Rahab says.”

Vaheb pleaded, “What if I hide it among my things and keep it out of sight? Then it won’t offend you.”

“You and that idol you cling to can get out of my house.”

“You’d put us out?” He looked up, stricken and angry. “Your own sister and our children? You are a hard woman!”

Her eyes burned with tears. “They can follow you and your dead ancestors out that door, or they can trust almighty God to save them and stay here with me.” She looked around at the others. “And that goes for the rest of you, too. You must decide. Our people sacrifice day and night in the hope that their gods can protect them if the walls cannot. Clay idols cannot fight a living God.”

She pointed at the skull in Vaheb’s hands. “Look into those shell eyes, my brother. Can they look back at you? Has that jaw ever opened and spoken words of wisdom? Can that skull
think
? It’s a dead thing! Three days ago, we saw a true miracle. Put your hope in the God who brought the Israelites across the Jordan, the God who dwells in their camp. That God is going to give them Jericho.”

“I’m afraid!” Gerah wept against her husband, Zebach.

“We’re all afraid,” Rahab said more gently. “But fear the Lord who has the power to destroy us rather than these
things
. We’ve clung to useless, lifeless idols for too long. Do you think the God of heaven and earth will show mercy if we dishonor Him by having these things in our midst? We’ve separated ourselves from everyone in the city, and now we must remove all the unclean things from among us. Get rid of your false gods, Mama. Look to the God of Israel for salvation, Vaheb!”

Rahab’s father rose slowly and came to her mother. “We must do likewise, Dardah. Give the idols to me.”

“But, Abiasaph . . .”

“They almost cost us our lives getting into the city. Rahab is right.” When he held his hands out, she opened the bundle she had dragged into the city, displaying an idol case and six round objects carefully wrapped in sheepskin. Rahab shuddered. As a child, she’d been afraid of the skulls of her ancestors with their dead eyes. They’d always held a place of prominence in her father’s house, gruesome reminders of the past generations.

“Surely we could keep the box,” her mother said.

“Why?” Rahab said.

“It’s costly and beautiful. This is ivory and these stones are—”

Rahab wasn’t willing to compromise. “It will only serve as a reminder of the unclean thing it held.”

Her father dropped it out the window. The box cracked open and the stone statue bounced out and rolled down the slope. Next, her father dropped the skulls. One by one, they were smashed on the rocky ground below.

Rahab looked around again. “Remove the talismans from the children, Gerah.”

Gerah did so and handed them to her to toss out the window. Rahab’s spirit lifted and warmth filled her. Her relatives searched the room for anything that might be offensive to the God of the Hebrews. She turned away, overcome with emotion. If only she could throw away all the experiences of her life, leaving them behind like those broken idols on the hard ground outside the window. Her life was fraught with idols—her quest for money and security, her ability to mentally stand outside herself as she allowed her body to be used by countless men, her willingness to serve a king who saw his people as possessions meant to serve him. Oh, if only she could start afresh, be a new creation before this living God. If only she could be cleansed of all unrighteousness so that she could bow down before Him in thanksgiving instead of shame.

Blinking back tears, Rahab gazed out the window again. She stretched out her hands toward the tent in which the golden box had been placed.
O God of Israel, how I long to kneel before You. Whatever offering You require of me, I will give it, even my life. I have opened the gates of my heart and soul, for only You are worthy of praise, only You.

Mizraim caught her around the waist and drew her back inside. “The guards might see—”

“Let them see.” Shoving his hands away, Rahab stepped up again and stretched out her hands. Let
Him
see.

* * *

After the solemn rite of circumcision, the children of Israel celebrated the Passover—a feast marking the anniversary of their exodus from Egypt.

Salmon girded his loins, donned his sandals, and joined his older brothers, their wives and young children. His unmarried sister, Leah, would complete their family circle. Amminadab, the eldest, killed the Passover lamb at twilight. His wife prepared the bitter herbs and unleavened bread. As the lamb roasted over the fire, the family gathered close for the traditional retelling of the events leading up to the deliverance from slavery.

“Why is this night different from all others?” the youngest boy said, leaning against his father, Salmon’s second brother.

“Forty years ago, our fathers and mothers were instructed by God to paint the blood of a lamb on their door lintels.” Amminadab spoke carefully so the children would understand. “That way, when the angel of death came to strike down all the firstborn of Egypt, he would pass over the people of Israel.”

Another child settled into the lap of her mother. “Were we always slaves?”

“Our father, Jacob, was a wandering Aramean long before our people went to Egypt. Jacob had two wives and two concubines, who bore him twelve sons, the patriarchs of the tribes who are gathered here now. Ten of these sons, including our father, Judah, were jealous of their younger brother, Joseph, so they sold him to a band of Ishmaelites traveling to Egypt. Joseph became the slave of Potiphar, captain of the palace guard, but the Lord blessed him in all he did. Even when Potiphar’s wife falsely accused Joseph of a terrible crime and Potiphar sentenced him to prison, God continued to bless Joseph. And during the time of his slavery and imprisonment, God was preparing Joseph to deliver his father and brothers from death.”

The children came and sat closer around Amminadab, drawn into the story of their history.

“After a time, Pharaoh was plagued by bad dreams. One of his servants told him Joseph could explain them, so Pharaoh had Joseph brought to him. The Lord revealed to Joseph the meaning of the dreams: a great famine would come upon Egypt and all the surrounding nations. The Lord also told Joseph how to save Egypt from starvation. When Pharaoh saw that Joseph was the wisest man in all the land, he made him overseer of all Egypt.”

Amminadab’s wife turned the spitted lamb slowly as he continued.

“It was during the famine that the sons of Jacob came to Egypt to buy grain. Joseph forgave their sins against him and told them to come to Egypt to live. Pharaoh gave them the land of Goshen, the most fertile land in all Egypt.”

He sat the youngest boy on his knee. “In time, Joseph and his brothers died, but their descendants had many children and grandchildren until Israel became a strong nation. A new pharaoh arose who didn’t remember how Joseph had saved Egypt. This pharaoh saw our people as a threat and made them slaves. He put brutal slave drivers over us because he wanted to destroy our people by heavy work. But the Lord blessed us even in our oppression, and we thrived. The Egyptians became afraid and made our slavery even more bitter. They forced us to make bricks and mortar and work long hours in the fields. Even this didn’t satisfy Pharaoh. So he gave the Hebrew midwives orders to kill all the baby boys as soon as they were born. But these women feared God more than Pharaoh, and they refused to do it. Then Pharaoh gave orders that all the young Israelite boys be killed.”

Amminadab put his hand on one of the boys close to him. “Thousands of children were thrown into the Nile River. Little babies like your brother Samuel. But there was a brave woman named Jochebed who hid her son for three months. When she couldn’t hide him any longer, she covered a wicker basket with tar and pitch, and placed him in it. Then she set it afloat among the reeds. And that’s where the daughter of Pharaoh found him.”