The Priest: Aaron (23 page)

Aaron paused outside the tent, and let his mind wander to the past. He would always remember Hur standing on the hilltop with him, holding Moses’ left hand in the air while he held his brother’s right, and below them Joshua defeating the Amalekites.

He knew the moment Hur breathed his last. Clothes ripped, men sobbed, and the women keened. It was a sound oft heard in camp over the years, but this time it brought with it a sense of completion.

Their wandering was about to come to an end. A new day was coming.

Aaron stood in his priestly garb before the curtain that hid the Most Holy Place from sight. He shook as he always did when the Lord spoke to him. Even after forty years, he had not become accustomed to the sound within and without and all around him, the Voice that filled his senses with delight and terror.

You, your sons, and your relatives from the tribe of Levi will be held responsible for any offenses related to the sanctuary. But you and your sons alone will be held liable for violations connected with the priesthood. Bring your relatives of the tribe of Levi to assist you and your sons as you perform the sacred duties in front of the Tabernacle of the Covenant. But as the Levites go about their duties under your supervision, they must be careful not to touch any of the sacred objects or the altar. If they do, both you and they will die.

Let it sink in and remain fresh in my mind, Lord. Don’t let me forget anything.

I myself have chosen your fellow Levites from among the Israelites to be your special assistants.

Oh, Lord, let them be men whose hearts are fixed on pleasing You! From the time of Jacob, we have killed men in anger. Cursed is our anger. It is so fierce. And we tend to cruelty. Oh, Lord, and now You are scattering us throughout Israel just as Jacob prophesied. We are dispersed as priests among Your people. Make us a holy nation! Give us tender hearts!

I have put the priests in charge of all the holy gifts that are brought to Me by the people of Israel. I have given these offerings to you and your sons as your regular share.

Let my
life
be an offering!

You priests will receive no inheritance of land or share of property among the people of Israel. I am your inheritance and your share. As for the tribe of Levi, your relatives, I will pay them for their service in the Tabernacle with the tithes from the entire land of Israel.

Aaron surrendered to the Voice, listening, listening, drinking in the words like living water.

The Lord commanded that a red heifer without defect or blemish and that had never been under a yoke be given to Eleazar to be taken outside the camp and slaughtered. Aaron’s son would take some of the blood on his finger and sprinkle it seven times toward the front of the Tent of Meeting. The heifer was to be burned, the ashes collected and put into a ceremonially clean place outside the camp for use in the water of cleansing, for purification from sin.

So much to remember: the festivals, the sacrifices, the laws.

Aaron sat with Moses and looked out over the tents and flickering lights of thousands of campfires. “We are all that is left of the generation that left Egypt.” Thirty-eight years had passed from the time they left Kadesh-barnea until they crossed the Zered Valley. The entire generation of fighting men had perished from the camp, as the Lord had sworn would happen. “Just you and me and Miriam.”

Surely now, the Lord would turn them toward the Promised Land.

The cloud moved and the whole community traveled with the Lord until He stopped over the Desert of Zin. The people made camp at Kadesh.

While Aaron studied the scrolls, Miriam laid her hand on his shoulder. “I love you, Aaron. I have loved you like a son.”

His sister had spoken very little since the Lord had afflicted her with leprosy, healed her, and commanded her to spend the seven days of cleansing outside the camp. She had returned a different woman—tenderly patient, quiet. She served the family with her customary devotion, but kept her thoughts to herself. He was perplexed by her sudden need to say she loved him.

She went outside the tent and sat at the entrance.

Troubled, Aaron rose and went out to her. “Miriam?”

“It is our own pride that slays us, Aaron.”

Aaron searched her face. “Shall I send for Eleazar’s wife to tend you?” She looked so old and worn down, her dark eyes soft and moist.

“Come closer, Aaron.” She cupped his face and looked into his eyes. “I have made terrible mistakes.”

“I know. So have I.” Her hands were cool, her fingers trembling. He remembered when she was robust and full of fire. He had learned long ago not to argue with his sister. But she was different now. Humiliated before all Israel, humbled before God, she had become strangely content when God had stripped her of the one thing she could not conquer—her pride. “And the Lord forgave us both.”

“Yes.” She smiled and took her hands from him. She folded them in her lap. “We contend with God and He disciplines us. We repent and God forgives.” She looked up at the cloud moving in slow undulating circles overhead. “Only His love endures forever.”

Aaron felt a niggling fear grow inside him. Miriam was slipping away. Fear gripped him. She was dying. Surely the Lord would allow Miriam to enter Canaan. If she was not spared, would he also die before they reached the Jordan River? He could not imagine life without his sister. She had always been there for him, from the time he was a little boy. She had been like a second mother, scolding and disciplining him, guiding and teaching him. At eight, she had been bold enough to approach Pharaoh’s daughter. Her quick thinking had brought Moses home for a few years before he was taken into the palace.

He beckoned Ithamar. “Bring Moses.” Ithamar took one look at his aunt and ran. Aaron took Miriam’s hand and tried to warm it between his. “Moses will come.” She was just tired. She would be better soon. She would be refreshed after a rest and rise again.

“Moses cannot stop what God has ordained, Aaron. Have I not been just as disobedient as the others of our generation who have died? It is just that I go the way of all flesh here in the wilderness.”

And what about me?

The cloud changed from gray to gold and from gold to fiery orange and red as day became night. The Lord stood guard, giving them light and warmth by night, just as the Lord gave them shade during the heat of the day.

“I’m not afraid, Aaron. It’s time.”

“Don’t talk that way.” He rubbed her hand. “The forty years are nearly up. We are about to go into the Promised Land.”

“Oh, Aaron, don’t you understand yet?”

Moses hurried toward them, staff in hand. Aaron rose. “Moses. Help her. Please. She can’t die. We’re so close.”

“Miriam, my sister . . .” Moses knelt beside her. “Are you in pain?”

Her mouth curved. “Life is pain.”

The family gathered: Eleazar and Ithamar and their wives and children; Eliezer and Gershom sat with her. Moses’ Cushite wife approached. Smiling, Miriam lifted her hand. They had long since made their peace and become dear friends. Miriam spoke in a whisper, her strength ebbing. The Cushite woman wept and kissed Miriam’s hand.

Aaron was frantic with fear. This couldn’t be happening! Miriam couldn’t die yet. Hadn’t she been the one to lead the people with songs of deliverance, songs of praise to the Lord?

It was near dawn when Miriam sighed deeply. She died with her eyes still open and fixed on the pillar of fire that now became the swirling gray cloud. Spears of sunlight came from it, making spots of light on the desert ground.

With an anguished cry, Aaron reached toward her, only to be pulled back by Eleazar. “You can’t touch her now, Father.” A high priest could not allow himself to become unclean. He would be unfit to perform his duties for the people as their high priest! Sobbing, Aaron straightened with difficulty.

“Father?” Eleazar supported him.

“It is time for the morning sacrifices.” Aaron heard the harshness in his own voice and did not regret it. Is this the kindness of God, to allow his sister to live so long and then have her die so close to the borders of the Promised Land?

You never forget our sins, do You, Lord?
Never.

Grieving and angry, he walked away as his sons’ wives and servants began the warbling scream of grief.

People nearby heard and came running. Soon the entire camp was wailing.

No sooner was Miriam buried than the people complained again. A crowd stood before the Tabernacle and quarreled with Moses. “Why did you bring the Lord’s community to this place?”

Aaron could not stop thinking about his sister. Every day he awakened with an aching heart. Every day he had to come here and serve the Lord, and every day these grown children turned out to be no better than their fathers and mothers!

“There’s no water here!”

“Why did you make us leave Egypt and bring us here to this terrible place?”

Aaron stepped forward. “What do you know of Egypt? You were not even born when we left that place!”

“We’ve heard!”

“We have come close enough to look back and see the green along the Nile.”

“What have we had in this desert?”

“There’s no grain!”

“And no figs!”

“No grapes or pomegranates.”

“And there is no water to drink!”

“We wish we had died in the Lord’s presence with our brothers!”

Aaron turned away, so angry he knew if he remained, he would say or do something he would later regret. He looked at Moses, hoping to draw wisdom and patience from him, but his brother too was red with anger. Moses fell on his face at the entrance of the Tabernacle and Aaron went down beside him. He wanted to pound his fists on the ground. How long would the Lord expect them to lead these people? Did they think he and Moses had water to drink? How many times did these people have to witness a miracle before they believed that he and Moses were appointed by the Lord to lead them?

You are the one who brought us to this place! They always blame us! Is it Your plan that my brother and I die at their hands? They are ready to kill us! Lord, give them water to drink
.

You and Aaron must take the staff and assemble the entire community. As the people watch, command the rock over there to pour out its water. You will get enough water from the rock to satisfy all the people and their livestock.

Moses rose and went inside the Tabernacle. He came out with Aaron’s staff in his hand. “Gather those rebels!”

Aaron went out ahead of him and shouted at the people to gather together in front of the rock. “You want water? Come and see it pour from the rock!” They swarmed there, empty water bags in hand, still complaining.

Moses pushed Aaron to one side and stood in front of all of them, the staff in his hand. “Listen, you rebels! Must we bring you water from this rock?”

“Yes! Give us water!”

Moses took the staff with both hands and hit the rock.

“Water, Moses! Give us water, Moses!”

Face red, eyes blazing, Moses struck the rock again, harder this time. Water gushed forth. The people pressed forward, crying out, rejoicing, filling their cupped hands, filling their skin bags, laughing and cheering Moses and Aaron. Aaron laughed with them, exultant. See how water flowed when his staff was wielded.