This Scarlet Cord (33 page)

By the end of the following day, the entire Israelite camp had moved to the banks of the Jordan. Gideon and Isaac stood together on the eastern side with a few of their comrades and looked across to the other bank.

“So there it is at last,” one of the men murmured, “Canaan, the land of milk and honey, the land Yahweh has promised to our people since the time of Abraham.”

“How did you manage to get across with that current?” another man asked Gideon and Isaac. “It looks impassable to me.”

The men stared at the raging torrent that the normally narrow, meandering river became in the spring.

“It wasn’t easy,” Gideon admitted. “If it was up to me I would say it is impossible to get our whole camp safely across while the water is as high as this. But we must remember that Yahweh Himself has chosen Joshua to lead us. We must believe that if Joshua tells us we can cross the river, then we will do it.”

The other men murmured agreement, turned their backs upon the tumultuous river, and went back to their camp. When they arrived at the warriors’ section of the spread-out campsite, the first thing they heard was the message from Joshua being cried everywhere.

Tomorrow, when you see the ark of the covenant being carried by the priests, then shall you set forth and follow it. But keep a space between yourselves and the priests as you go. Tonight you must sanctify yourselves, for tomorrow Yahweh will do wonders for His people. Tomorrow we shall enter into the land of Canaan
.

Tense silence spread among the warriors as they listened to Joshua’s message. There was not a one of them who had not had a look at the raging river, but not a single man uttered a protest.

Shortly after the message had been carried to the farthest limit of the campsite, Joshua ordered a procession of the ark of the covenant around the entire encampment. Carried by the priests, it moved slowly and reverently. The sight of the ark of the covenant was always a profoundly spiritual moment for an Israelite. It was borne aloft so all could see, and was comprised of a long wooden platform upon which reposed a large, beautifully carved wooden chest. This chest was the sacred receptacle that held the tablets Moses had brought down from the mountain when Yahweh had given him the laws that the Israelites must live by. It was the most precious religious symbol of the Israelite people and the sight of it filled them with hope and a determination to do whatever Joshua commanded.

By the time the ark had passed around the entire camp, darkness was falling. The Israelites lay down to rest, readying themselves for the historic moment that would occur the following day, when the wanderers from Egypt finally set foot upon the land that God had given them.

The Israelites rose before the sun to ready themselves to set forth. First in line to cross the river were the priests, bearing once more the sacred ark of the covenant. At a distance behind the priests were grouped many thousands of warriors carrying their weapons of war: spears, axes, slings, bows, arrows, and daggers. Finally, behind the warriors, there came an even larger group of women, children, and baggage animals.

When all the contingents had halted in their proper places, the priests advanced until they stood on the bank of the flooded Jordan. Joshua stood with them, calm, his head tilted slightly as he listened to the loud roar of the water. The priests waited in silence until he said to the ones who were carrying the ark, “Step into the river until the soles of your feet are wet.”

Not a single priest hesitated. Looking straight ahead, at the land on the far side of the river, they stepped into the racing water.

Almost instantly a loud rumbling noise rent the air and the earth shook beneath the feet of the gathered Israelites. All heads turned to look upstream, the direction from which the sound had come.

“Wait,” Joshua said to the priests.

The four men stood, the precious ark lifted high, and as they waited the racing water began to slow, first to the size of a stream, then to a trickle, and then, amazingly, there was no water at all. They were standing on the riverbed.

“Go forward,” Joshua said to the priests. “For as long as you remain standing in the middle of the riverbed, there will be no water and our people may pass.”

No one except Joshua and the priests had seen the water cease to flow, so when the warriors finally approached the river and saw the priests standing in the middle of the dry river, they fell to their knees.

“It has happened again,” Gideon said to Isaac in wonder, “just as it happened in the days of our parents when they were leaving Egypt. Yahweh has stopped the waters so we may pass.”

And pass they did. First the priests who were not holding the ark, then all of the warriors with their weapons, and finally the women, children, and pack animals. By the end of the day, the entire Israelite nation had finally entered the land of Canaan.

After the last donkey had made it across, Joshua ordered Gideon and Isaac to take twelve stones from the riverbed where the ark had stood, so they could place them at their new camp in their new country. They would be a symbol of the twelve tribes of Israel and how Yahweh had shut down the river for them to cross over to the land promised to Abraham’s people by their God.

Joshua was not the only leader to think spying on the enemy was a good tactic. Ever since he had become king, Tamur had had spies positioned to report if the Israelites entered into Canaan. The news of the Israelites’ getting across the river took only one day to reach the palace.

The king immediately called upon his military commander and his dearest friend. The three sat together in council late in the afternoon as the sun was staining the sky red in the west.

“We knew it was coming,” Akiz said. “We just did not think it would happen so soon.”

“Are we ready for a siege?” Tamur asked. “Have all of my orders been carried out?”

“Yes, my lord. The grain supplies are well guarded; there will be no stealing.”

The king nodded. “We must make certain the people have confidence in their leaders. They must believe the food supplies are safe. And they must have confidence in our defenses as well.”

“We are prepared, my lord. I can begin to station my men at their battle positions immediately if you wish.”

“Good,” Tamur said. “I will also send a proclamation around the city telling the people that the Israelites have crossed the river and that the city will be ready to repel any attack they might make.”

“An excellent idea, my lord.” Akiz rose. “I will go now and set the defenses in motion.”

The commander left the room and, as the door closed behind him, the two friends looked at each other.

Farut said, “Do not worry, my lord. You have made the right decisions. The Israelites will never break into the city.”

The grim look had not lifted from Tamur’s face. “What is really worrying me is something else.”

“What, my lord?”

“How, in the name of Baal, did the Israelites get across that river?”

Thirty-Two

F
OR OVER A WEEK AFTER THE
I
SRAELITE SPIES HAD
escaped, life for Rahab was quiet. No one in the family besides Shemu and Atene knew what had happened under their roof, for which Rahab was immensely grateful.

The men across the street had disappeared. Whether it was because they had finally seen Rahab, or because the guards were more vigilant in dispersing them, they were gone. She was still shackled to the house, however. Her father said that too many people had seen her during the New Year procession, and he feared she would be the subject of gossip and innuendo and the bold stares of knowing men if she went out.

As quiet day succeeded quiet day, Rahab grew progressively more restive. After the life-and-death situation she had just passed through, the conversation of her mother and sisters-in-law seemed tedious and trivial. Her greatest frustration, however, was that she could not see Sala, and she longed for him with all her heart.

Finally she decided to beg Shemu to help her. She knew it wasn’t fair to ask him to go against the authority of their father, but she was desperate. She looked for an opportunity to catch him alone, and at last she succeeded.

He was in the small storeroom at the back of the house inspecting a barrel of barley Mepu had just received when Rahab slipped quietly into the room and closed the door behind her.

“I must talk to you, Shemu,” she said.

He turned in surprise when he heard her voice. “What is it?”

She threaded her way between the other barrels and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I want to see Sala. I
need
to see Sala. We love each other, Shemu. How would you feel if you were imprisoned in this house and couldn’t see Atene?”

He said gently, “You know Father doesn’t want you to go out of the house.”

“Of course I know that. I have been a prisoner here ever since I came home from the shrine. It’s not fair, Shemu. None of that was my fault, and Papa is punishing me for it.”

“He’s not trying to punish you, he’s trying to protect you, Rahab.”

Rahab folded her arms across her chest. “You and I both know, my brother, that it is I who am protecting him.” Her eyes held his steadily and her husky voice left no room for him to disagree.

He held her gaze. “
I
know you are not a little girl any longer, Rahab. You are a woman of strength and courage. But Father—”

She said, “I want you to go to see Sala and arrange someplace where we can meet privately.”

“Rahab, the city is stuffed with people! There is no private place anywhere.”

“What about our roof?”

He shook his head. “With the weather growing warmer, there is always someone up there.”

“There must be some way to do this,” she cried despairingly.

He thought for a long minute, then said, “Sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open. Suppose I take you to the market, to that jeweler’s shop that you and Atene like to look at. I can tell Sala that you will be there at noon. If you pull your headscarf forward over your face, perhaps no one will recognize you. At least you will have a chance to see each other and to talk.”

“That would be fine.” She smiled as she had not smiled in quite some time. “Just seeing him and talking to him will be something. Thank you, Shemu!”

He looked at her and a return smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “When you look like that, Rahab, I don’t think any man could deny you.”

She laughed. “I don’t care about other men. I only care about Sala.”

“I know he loves you—he told me so. But I don’t know what kind of future you can have together, my sister. Will his family accept you, you who have Canaanite blood in your veins? And if they don’t, will Sala—a lord among his own people—be content to settle down as a farmer with your family?”

Rahab had spent many night hours thinking about what had happened to her and to Sala during the time they had been together in Jericho, and now she answered her brother: “I believe in Yahweh, Shemu. I believe He saved me from the slavers. I believe He saved me from the king. I think He always wanted Sala and me to be together. Sala says Yahweh has a mission for us. We don’t know exactly what it is, but we must be alert and listen for His voice. Yahweh will make things right for us if we do as He wishes.”

“You really do believe in this Yahweh, Rahab.”

“I do. And I think perhaps He has a mission for you as well.”

Shemu looked down at the barrel of barley he had been inspecting, then back up to Rahab. “Perhaps you are right,” he said softly. “Atene has told me about the Israelite Abraham, how Yahweh gave him and his wife a child in their old age. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that Atene conceived only after she prayed to Him. I would like to know more about Him, and I know she would too.”

Rahab’s heart flooded with joy. “I am so glad, my brother, that you feel this way! I want to know more too.”

He bent and kissed her on the forehead.

Voices sounded outside the storeroom door.

Rahab said urgently, “You must go to find Sala now, before someone sees you and wants to go with you.”

“All right.” He patted her on the shoulder, and she watched as he made his way through the barrels and out the storeroom door.