Authors: Francine Rivers
Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Historical, #FICTION / Religious
Moses turned to him. “Aaron, you and your two sons, Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy leaders are to come with me up the mountain.” Aaron savored the command. He had waited for this moment, a time when he would not only hear the Word of the Lord, but stand in His presence. Joy mingled with fear as he followed his brother up Mount Sinai, the elders behind him.
The climb was not easy. Surely, it was the Lord Himself who had given Moses the strength to make this climb four times before! Aaron felt every day of his eighty-three years as he followed in his brother’s footsteps, weaving his way upward along the rough path. His muscles ached. He had to pause for breath and start again. Above was the swirling cloud of the Lord, the fire on the mountaintop. When Aaron, his sons, and the elders reached a level space, Moses stood waiting. “We will worship the Lord here.”
Aaron saw the God of Israel. Under His feet there seemed to be a pavement of brilliant sapphire, as clear as the heavens. Surely now, Aaron would die. He trembled at the sight before him and fell on his knees, bowing his head to the ground.
Arise and eat. Drink the water I give you.
Never before had Aaron felt such exultation and thanksgiving. He never wanted to leave this place. He forgot all those around him and those who waited on the plains below. He lived in the moment, filled up and fulfilled with the sight of God’s power and majesty. He felt small but not insignificant, one among many, but cherished. The manna tasted of heaven; the water restored his strength.
Moses put his hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “The Lord has called me up the mountain to give me the Law for His people. Stay here and wait for us until we come back.”
“We?”
“Joshua is going up the mountain with me.”
Aaron felt a cold wave of anger. He looked past Moses to the younger man. “He is an Ephraimite, not a Levite.”
“Aaron.” Moses spoke quietly. “Are we not to obey the Lord in all things?”
His stomach clenched tight. His mouth trembled. “Yes.”
I want to go,
he longed to say.
I want be the one at your side! Why do you set me aside now?
All the feelings he had as a lonely boy sitting in the reeds came rushing back. Someone else was being chosen.
Moses spoke to them all. “If there are any problems while I am gone, consult with Aaron and Hur, who are here with you.”
Bereft, Aaron watched Moses turn away and take the high path farther up the mountain, Joshua close behind. Tears burned in Aaron’s eyes. He blinked them away, fighting against the emotions warring inside him.
Why Joshua? Why not me?
Hadn’t he been the one to find Moses in the desert? Hadn’t he been the one God had chosen as Moses’ spokesman? Aaron’s throat closed, hot, tight, choking him.
It’s not fair!
As Moses and Joshua ascended, Aaron remained with the others, and the weight of people was heavier now than it had ever been before.
For six days, Aaron and the others remained on the mountain, the cloud shrouding its top, Moses and Joshua within sight, but separated from them. And then on the seventh day, the Lord called to Moses from within the cloud. Aaron and the others heard the Voice, like low, rolling thunder. Moses rose and continued up the mountain, Joshua following for a ways and then remaining like a sentry on guard as Aaron’s brother entered the cloud. A rush of sound came, and a blaze of fire flashed brilliant from the mountain peak. From below, they could hear people screaming.
“Aaron!” Hur cried out. “The people need us to reassure them.”
Aaron kept his back to the others. “Moses said to wait here.”
“The elders are going down.”
“We were to wait!”
“Aaron!” Hur called out. “They need you!”
Aaron wept bitterly.
Why? God, why must I be left behind?
“Moses said they were to come to us for counsel. If they cross the boundaries, the Lord will strike out against them!”
Aaron shut his eyes tightly. “All right!” His shoulders sagged as he turned away. He started back down the mountain pathway, fully intending to do what the Lord required of him.
Glancing back one last time, Aaron looked up. Joshua stood in the haze at the edge of the cloud that shrouded the mountain.
The elders surrounded Aaron, frightened, confused. “It’s been ten days, Aaron! And the fire has burned constantly.”
“The people believe Moses is dead.”
“Would the Lord God kill His anointed?” Aaron said, angry.
“No man could live in the midst of that fire!”
“Nor has Joshua returned.”
“Someone should go up and see if—”
Aaron rose, glaring at his sons. “No one is to go near the mountain! Have you forgotten the boundaries God set? It is holy ground! Any who come near will be struck dead by the Lord!”
“Then surely Moses and Joshua are dead already.”
“My brother is alive! The Lord Himself called him to the top of the mountain to receive the Word. He will come back to us!”
Korah shook his head. “You are a dreamer, Aaron! Look up! What man can survive such a fire?”
“That fire will consume
you
if you rebel against the Lord!”
They all spoke at once.
Aaron shouted, “Go back to your tents. Gather the manna each morning as you have been instructed. Drink the water the Lord has supplied. And wait as I wait!” He went back inside his tent and yanked the flap closed. He sat on a cushion and covered his face. He didn’t want to listen to their doubts. He had enough doubts of his own. Moses said, “wait.”
I have to wait. God, help me wait!
He thought of Joshua standing up there beside Moses. Joshua, the one his brother had chosen . . .
“Don’t you think you should . . .”
He glared at his sister.
She sighed loudly. “I was just thinking . . .” She held his gaze for a moment and then lowered her head and went back to carding wool.
Even Aaron’s sons plagued him with questions. “I don’t know why he remains so long on the mountain! I don’t know if he is well! Yes! He is an old man, and I am older still. If you keep on besieging me, you will wear me down to the grave with your demands!”
Only after a long, exhausting day of counseling and judging did Aaron stand alone. While the people slept, he looked up at the mountain and watched the consuming fire. How had Moses born such pressure? How had he listened to case after case and kept himself clear of sides?
I can’t do this, Moses. You’ve got to come down off that mountain. You’ve got to come back!
Was Moses dead? He shut his eyes tightly at the thought, fear welling up inside him. Was that why there was no sign of him after so many days? And where was Joshua? Was he still waiting on that rocky slope? His provisions must be gone by now.
The people were like sheep without a shepherd. Their questions had become like bleats and
baaa
s. Aaron knew he was going to have to do something to keep the people from wandering off. Some wanted to go back to Egypt. Others wanted to take their flocks to Midian pastures. No one was content.
He couldn’t sleep. He gathered the manna with everyone else, but could barely eat. Everywhere he went, he was met with the same questions:
“Where is Moses?”
On the mountain with God.
“Is he alive?”
I am certain he is.
“When is he coming back?”
I don’t know. I don’t know!
Thirty-five days went by, then thirty-six, thirty-seven. With each day that passed, Aaron’s fear and anger grew.
It was hot inside the tent, but he didn’t go outside. He knew the moment he did, people would clamor for answers he didn’t have. He was sick of their grumbling and whining. How should he know what was happening on the mountain?
Moses! Why do you linger?
Did his brother have any idea what Aaron was going through with these complainers down here on the dusty plains? Or was Moses just basking in the presence of the Lord? Aaron knew if he didn’t do something soon, these people would stone him to death and then scatter across the wilderness like wild donkeys!
Miriam looked at him gravely. “They’re calling for you.”
“I can hear.”
“They sound angry, Father.”
They sound ready to stone someone.
“You have to do something, Aaron.”
He turned on Miriam. “What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know, but they are past patience. Give them something to occupy them!”
“Have them make bricks again? Build a city here at the foot of the mountain?”
“Aaron!” The elders were outside his tent.
“Aaron!”
Korah was with them. Even Hur was losing faith. “Aaron, we must talk with you!”
He fought tears. His heart trembled. “God has abandoned us.” Maybe the only one God cared about was Moses. For the fire still burned on the mountain. Moses was still up there alone with God. Maybe God and Moses had forgotten about him and the people. His breath shook as he exhaled. If Moses was still alive. Forty days had passed. An eighty-year-old man couldn’t last . . .
The elders and people surrounded him when he came outside. He felt oppressed by their impatience. They were no longer worried about his brother. The tribes were ready to split off and go in a dozen directions rather than remain at the foot of the mountain. They were no longer willing to hear the words, “Wait here until Moses returns.”
“This man Moses, who brought us here from Egypt, has disappeared. We don’t know what has happened to him.”
This man Moses?
They saw the miracle God performed in Egypt! They saw Moses hold out his staff while God opened the Red Sea so they could cross over on dry land! And they could speak about Moses’ disappearance with such indifference? Fear gripped Aaron. If they cared so little about his brother who had delivered them from Pharaoh, how long before they despised him too?
“You must lead us, Aaron.”
“Tell us what to do.”
“We can’t stay here forever waiting for an old man who is dead.”
“Make us some gods who can lead us!”
Aaron turned away, but there were more people behind him. He looked into their eyes. Everyone was talking at once, crying out, pushing. Some raised fists. He felt the heat of their fetid breath, the pull of their fear, the shove of their anger.
“Give them something to do,”
Miriam had said.
“Give them something to occupy them!”
“All right!” Aaron shoved back, wanting distance between himself and the people. How he longed to be up on that mountain. Better dead in the flames of God than alive down here on the plain, with the dust and the rabble. He hated being pushed and shoved. He hated their demands and complaints. He hated their constant whining. “All right!”
When they fell silent, he felt relief and then pride. They were listening to him, leaning toward him, looking to him to lead.
To give them something to do.
Yes, I’ll give them something to do.
“Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons, and your daughters are wearing.” He would not ask these men to give up their own ornaments. “Bring them to me.”
They scattered quickly to do his will. Exhaling, he went back into his tent. Miriam stood, shaking in confusion. “What are you doing, Aaron?”
“I’m giving them something to do!”