by Joan Wolf
“We do thank her. You may tell her that for us.”
As the men began to crawl back under the shade of the flax, Sala told Rahab they were deeply grateful to her for her help.
Lord Nahshon sat alone in the small barracks room while the commander of Jericho’s troops organized the search for the escaped spies. By the time Akiz had done that and had finished reporting to the king, Lord Arazu had arrived at military headquarters.
The first hint Nahshon had of his “friend’s” arrival was when a guard opened the door of his tiny, hot, and stuffy prison and took him to a much larger room where he found Akiz and Lord Arazu waiting for him.
“My dear fellow,” Arazu said when he saw the merchant he thought was going to make him rich. “I am so sorry for this dreadful confusion. I have just been explaining to the commander here that you are a businessman, not a spy. It was simply your good nature that made you remove those shepherds—or what you all thought of as shepherds—out of the wine bar. The Sign of the Olive is not a place for farm workers.”
Arazu’s nose quivered as if he had smelled a bad odor.
Both Arazu and the commander were seated, but they allowed Nahshon to continue to stand. The commander said, “It seems that we made a mistake, Debir. Lord Arazu has assured me you could not possibly be a spy. However, I do have one question for you.”
“Yes, Commander?” Nahshon was trying to keep his relief from showing.
“If you are only here on business, why have you remained in Jericho when it is so clear that we will soon be under attack from the Israelites?”
Nahshon allowed an ironic smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “Really, Commander, how long do you think that attack is going to last? The Israelites have a large army, I understand, and a large army must be fed. The farmers have stripped most of the produce from their farms and the only good spring lies inside the walls of the city. You have plenty of food and water; they will have little. I do not think it will be long before they move on to look for a less well-defended target. And when they go, Lord Arazu and I will transact our business.”
The commander said, “I wish the people in the city had the confidence in us that you have, Debir.”
Nahshon shrugged. “They follow whoever was the last person to speak to them. Once they see how it is, they will rally to the defense of their city with pride.”
The commander did not look convinced, but he said, “You may go with Lord Arazu, and I am sorry for the inconvenience we have caused you.”
Lord Nahshon produced his most gracious smile. “I understand, Commander, and I hope you catch those wretched spies. But what can they have to report, eh? The city walls are unassailable.”
The commander’s return smile was more natural. “You are right, of course. Good day to you, Debir. I hope your business prospers.”
“Thank you, Commander. I hope so too.”
It wasn’t until he returned home that Nahshon learned that Joshua’s spies had escaped and that was the real reason he had been let go, not the character witness of Lord Arazu.
Thirty-One
GIDEON AND ISAAC FOLLOWED RAHAB’S INSTRUCTIONS, and after three days of hiding in the hill country, they made their way to the Jordan, passing only a few scattered shepherds with small flocks of sheep. The river was still tumultuous, but they were strong men and they tied themselves together and made it across safely.
Joshua was in his tent when the spies reached the Israelite camp and they hurried to report to him. He greeted them with relief and bade them come in and tell him what they had learned.
Gideon imparted the information they had gathered from Nahshon and Sala.
Joshua was pleased. “Frightened people make easier targets,” he said. “But I was worried about you; I expected you to be back sooner. Did something happen that you took so long?”
Gideon looked at Isaac, letting him know it was his turn to take up their story. “We were almost captured, Joshua. We were saved by a woman but we had to make her a promise that we are obligated to keep.”
He told Joshua about how they hid on Rahab’s roof and how she had smuggled them out of the city by lowering them from her window with a rope.
“I was terrified,” Isaac confessed. “Her brother was the one holding the rope and all I could think of was if he let it slip, I was done for.”
Gideon added, “I was praying to Yahweh as I dangled in the air over that huge drop.”
Isaac said, “But we didn’t fall and the woman kept her word. Now we must keep ours. We promised that she and her family would be safe from our attack. Gideon gave her the scarlet cord to hang in her window so that our warriors will know not to enter that house.”
Joshua’s black eyebrows, which always looked so startling in contrast to his gray hair, lifted with surprise. “How did an Israelite woman come to be in Jericho?”
Gideon said, “She is not an Israelite, she is a Canaanite woman who has rejected her old gods and now believes in Yahweh. That is what Sala told us and it must be true. She saved our lives, after all.”
Joshua’s brows lifted even higher. “A Canaanite woman?”
“Yes, and it looks as if young Sala has fallen in love with her. He is the one who convinced her to change her religion. She is beautiful, but she must have taken part in the rites of Baal; she is beyond the years of childhood.”
“She has probably lain with many men,” Joshua said. “She is unclean.”
“Yes. And her family are still followers of Baal. Her brother helped us because his wife, who has also given her belief to Yahweh, begged him to.”
“He also thought it might be a good thing to have us behind him if we should happen to take the city,” Gideon added cynically.
“I see,” Joshua said. “So you have pledged that the people within the house with the scarlet cord will be safe?”
“Yes. We promised in the name of Yahweh. We had to—we were in her house and at her mercy.”
Joshua nodded. “Then we will keep that promise. Whatever the woman may be, she has shown her good faith to us. No harm must come to her or to her family.”
The three men had been sitting facing each other and now, as Joshua got to his feet, Gideon and Isaac jumped up as well. He reached out and gave each man an approving slap on the shoulder.
“You have done well, Gideon. You have done well, Isaac. Now I must have the word put around: tomorrow, we will move the entire camp to the shores of the Jordan.”
Gideon looked uneasy. “The entire camp? I must warn you, Joshua, that river is barely passable for a strong man. The women and children will not be able to get across yet.”
Joshua’s mouth remained grave but he smiled with his eyes. “Remember, Gideon. We are the children of Yahweh and He has given all this land into our hands. Did He not hold back the waters of the sea to allow all of us—men, women, and children—to pass out of Egypt? Do not fear, the Israelites will cross the river Jordan and enter into the land of Canaan. Yahweh will open the way.”
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
FOR OVER A WEEK AFTER THE ISRAELITE 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.”
