by Tessa Afshar
“Do we follow Salmone?”
“Yes. Stay near me and my family. We too belong to the same clan.”
Again, Rahab was impressed with the extraordinary order with which Israel gathered about Joshua. After some prayer and words of consecration, Joshua called the twelve heads of the tribes forward. They filed before Joshua solemnly, leader after leader. Each one came forward and waited until he was dismissed with a nod from Joshua’s salt-and-pepper head. Then Caleb stepped forth, his back ramrod straight, his face grim. Joshua stared at his old friend and comrade for long moments. “Judah,” he said, his voice sounding suddenly old. “God has shown me it is the tribe of Judah.”
A loud murmur rose up in the crowd. Rahab became aware that those standing closest to her and her family were throwing them dagger looks. “Filthy dogs,” a faceless voice shouted. Out of nowhere, a small rock hurled through the air. Before Rahab had time to react, it struck her cheekbone and glanced off onto the ground nearby. Instinctively, she lifted a hand to the sting at the side of her face and was alarmed to find her fingers come away bloody. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hanani bolt toward her. He shoved her behind him with a protective gesture and shouted something that Rahab didn’t catch. But the crowd’s vindictive fury was not appeased. Rahab realized through a fog of disbelief that many near them were bending to pick up rocks.
“Stop!” Salmone’s roar ripped through the buzzing of the people around them. “What do you think you are doing?” He stationed himself next to Rahab, his face a mask of rigid disbelief. These were Salmone’s own people, she realized. He probably knew every one of them by name. “Have you lost your minds?” he bellowed again.
“Salmone, it’s them,” one man spat, still clutching a stone in his hand. “Joshua picked the tribe of Judah, you saw for yourself. And these Canaanites are the latest addition to our tribe. You know it’s them!”
“I know only one thing, Jakim. It’s God’s job to choose the guilty party. Now unless He has given you information He hasn’t yet revealed to Joshua, you’d better drop that stone. All of you!”
He faced all of them with a ferocity they’d not often seen in him. For some seconds nothing happened. Salmone took a step forward. One simple step, Rahab thought, and yet it carried in its stance such suppressed menace that Jakim loosened his grip on the stone and it dropped to the ground. Others surrounding them did the same.
Salmone turned to Rahab’s family. “Come with me. You must remain near me until the true culprit is found. You won’t be safe until then.” Even through the fog of shock and pain that engulfed Rahab, she noticed that his face looked ashen with tightly controlled anger. As he walked, he maneuvered her so that she was sandwiched between her brother Joa and himself.
“Were you hurt?” he asked without looking at her.
“It’s of no account.” With some effort she managed to keep her voice steady.
An explosive breath escaped Salmone’s lips, but he said nothing. When they arrived where his family were stationed he turned toward her. “Let me see,” he said.
“It’s nothing. Just a minor cut,” she said, desperate to avert attention from herself. Embarrassment at her public denouncement tangled her belly in knots.
“Let. Me. See.” Salmone said, enunciating each word through gritted teeth. Rahab assumed he was angry with her for causing him trouble. He had objected to them joining Israel from the first, saying they would incite bad feelings by their presence and behavior. She supposed he was proven right enough, though it was through no fault of hers.
Feeling stiff with shame, with injured pride, and with the unfairness of Salmone’s resentment, she considered walking away. That was childish as well as dangerous, she decided. Resigned, she turned her face toward him. Carefully, he examined the wound on her cheek. His touch was feather-soft and gentle. Still, she flinched with pain.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice clipped as he removed his hand. “The bleeding has stopped, but you’ll have a nasty bruise. When we go home Miriam will give you some ointment to make sure it doesn’t become infected.”
“Did you call my name?” Miriam crooned as she joined them. She gazed at the scene about her—Rahab’s swelling cheek, her family’s tense countenances, and Salmone’s barely checked rage. “What’s happened?” she exclaimed.
“Someone threw a stone at Rahab when Joshua announced that the thief was from the house of Judah,” Salmone grated. “They were ready to stone the lot of them, if you can believe it.”
“It wasn’t our fault,” Rahab cried out, unable to hold her tongue any longer. The idea that Salmone blamed and resented her became unbearable.
“What do you mean?” Salmone turned on her, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Who said it was your fault?”
“You! You’re angry!”
“Of course I’m angry! My people have committed a terrible wrong. They could have hurt you badly if I hadn’t stepped in. I’d like to knock a few of their heads together right now!” He paused, and then asked more quietly, “Why would you ever think I was angry with you?”
Rahab turned her head away. “You wouldn’t have had this additional trouble if we weren’t here.”
Salmone rubbed the side of his face. “I’m not so unreasonable as to hold that against you at such a time. You are the one harmed. Do you think I’m a madman that I should blame you for this?” he said, gesturing toward her discolored cheek.
Relief washed through Rahab. Her sister Izzie walked over and hugged her, and Rahab clung to her for a long moment, avoiding Salmone’s narrowed gaze that watched her with hawklike attention. In the periphery of her mind Rahab was aware that the different clans of Judah were still walking before Joshua, being dismissed one at a time. Then the Zerahites came. With a lifted arm, Joshua detained them. Rahab knew that this choice, though not identifying the thief, instantly cleared her and her family from any wrongdoing. They had no connection with the Zeharites. After this, events moved at a rapid pace. The families belonging to the clan of the Zeharites began coming forward, and Zimri was detained. In the end, it was Zimri’s grandson Achan who was taken.
Achan confessed his guilt within the first few moments of questioning, knowing perhaps that denial was futile. Bursting into tears, Achan said, “It’s true. I’ve sinned against the Lord.” Hidden in the ground inside his tent they found his forbidden treasures: gold, silver, and a beautiful Babylonian robe.
Joshua laid a hand on Achan’s shoulder. “Son, was it worth soiling your heart for such useless treasure? What needless trouble you have brought on us and on everyone who loves you,” he said and sank down, holding his head in his hands. After a few moments of silence, he raised his chin, saying, “And your own life too shall be wasted because you disobeyed God and lied about it, and would have gone on lying about it if you hadn’t been caught. Too cheaply have you sold your life.”
Rahab, confused by Joshua’s words, looked over at Salmone, knowing he comprehended Joshua’s implicit judgment. Salmone bent his head back and stared unseeingly into the sky. “Miriam.”
“Yes?”
“Miriam, you know what must happen?”
Miriam nodded, her expression grim.
“His sons and daughters must have known about it; the loot was right under the ground of their tent. And yet they said nothing. They too will partake of the punishment, no doubt.”
“Oh, Salmone.”
“You don’t have to stay here. Why don’t you go home. Rahab, you can leave with Miriam. Let her tend to your face. It’s swelling and must be painful. Perhaps your family might wish to join you as well.”
Rahab bit her lower lip. “What will happen now?”
“The sentence is death. By stoning.”
“Oh.” Her hand crept up to her throbbing cheek. She had learned a little too personally what such a sentence would mean. “In Canaan thieves are put to death as well.”
“The theft of property among us isn’t usually punished by death, but Achan had the gall t
o steal from God’s share. That shows not only exorbitant greed, but also a total disregard for the Lord. Did he think he could get away with it? Anyway, that’s why the punishment is so severe. This is no ordinary robbery.” He turned to look at the citizens of Jericho for a moment. “Quite a first day for you. Please feel free to leave; you can wait in my tent. It will be more comfortable than being outdoors in this sun.”
Relief flooded through Rahab at the thought of going. She was beginning to tremble in the aftermath of the ugly attack on her life. Her cheek throbbed with constant pain, and if it weren’t for Izzie’s comforting arms, she would have collapsed with weakness. Salmone’s cool tent with its stuffed cushions and serene atmosphere beckoned like an oasis. With most of Israel absent from the camp, there would be unparalleled peace and quiet. “Thank you. I would like to go.” She looked at the members of her family to ascertain their preference. As if by prior consent, the women banded together and chose to go back, while the men elected to stay with Salmone and see Achan’s fate through.
Miriam, who appeared relieved to miss this part of Achan’s trial, led the way back through the confusing maze of Israel’s camp. They walked in heavy silence, each stewing in her own thoughts. Inside the tent, Miriam tended the cut on Rahab’s face, cleaning it with delicate care before treating it with a soothing ointment of her own making. “A little deeper,” she said, “and I would have had to sew it up. As it is, the mark will fade in time. I will give you some of this ointment, which you must rub on the cut every day for the next week. Which one of those bovine wretches did this to you, did you see?”
“No. It happened too fast.”
Everyone was soul-weary by this time, and Miriam suggested that they partake of a simple repast. Rahab’s sisters-in-law and mother excused themselves to return to their settlement, wanting to relieve Rahab’s oldest niece who had been minding the younger children throughout the morning. But Rahab and Izzie remained with Miriam and, after eating barley cakes and a vegetable soup, helped her clean up.
“Rahab, are you still in pain? You seem preoccupied,” Miriam said as they put away the crockery into a covered basket.
“No. No more pain, thanks to your miracle cure. I suppose I’m anxious. Do you think our neighbors will relent now that we’ve been proven innocent, and stop being suspicious of us?”
“I hope so. They’ll certainly feel remorse for this morning’s behavior. Would you like us to pray if you are worried?”
Rahab had never prayed aloud with anyone. The prospect of starting with someone as experienced as Miriam seemed daunting. She feared she would appear foolish and ignorant. Then again, to be able to pray alongside a friend was a joy she was loath to miss. “I don’t know how to pray as I should. I’ll sound awkward,” she admitted.
“I don’t know how God measures awkwardness, but I doubt He applies the same standards as we do. Salmone once told me that the Lord would speak to Moses face-to-face, as a man speaks with his friend. I have never forgotten that. I am no Moses, but I seek the friendship of God. I pray as I have been taught: I speak the words of blessing that my father and mother showed me. But I pray also from my heart, as if I were speaking to a friend. As if I were speaking to a father. I have memorized some of the prayers of the great leaders of our people—the words Moses spoke to the Lord, or the song of Miriam. I can teach you these things. Most importantly, though, I believe God desires to hear us. It delights His heart when we turn to Him with open hearts, without artifice.”
Rahab longed to experience the kind of intimacy that Miriam’s words evoked. Izzie also wished to learn to pray. So the three women stood respectfully and Miriam began with the traditional blessings: Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of eternity. She wove Moses’ own words into her prayers: Teach me Your ways so I may know You and continue to find favor with You. Rahab noticed that Miriam began to speak her own prayers, her words emerging humble and unembellished, sincere phrases flowing without self-consciousness. She felt emboldened to pray in the same way, remembering phrases from the Law and blessings that had been taught to her in her days outside Israel’s camp. Izzie soon joined in. They stopped noticing the passage of time as they entered into a sweet realm that felt more real than the one they normally inhabited.
When they finished, Miriam fetched a battered harp and taught them the song of Moses and Miriam. Rahab had never felt closer to God, or closer to experiencing true friendship.
Chapter
Thirteen
Salmone entered his tent followed by a pale and weary-looking Joshua. He heard the women singing before his eyes found them. Both men had left their shoes outside the tent, and their entrance made no sound. The women continued to sing, unaware of their new audience. Without thinking, Salmone’s gaze sought out Rahab. He searched the bent face, wanting to assure himself that she was all right. Parallel to the narrow nose, an ugly gash ran down her white cheek, barely closed. He remembered the moment he saw that rock fly, knowing it would find its target without being able to do anything about it. He had run, shoving people out of his way, knowing the while that he would be too late to protect her from that particular missile. He still shook when he thought of it. And it shook him still further that he was affected so deeply by it.
In the quiet atmosphere of the tent, the tension began to drain out of him and Salmone became more aware of the women’s familiar song than of the memory of the attack on Rahab, or even of Rahab herself. As if by tacit agreement, neither man spoke. Both stood hushed, entranced by the simple holiness of what they witnessed.
But before long, the two men could no longer resist and joined their baritone voices to that of the women:
In Your unfailing love You will lead The people You have redeemed.
The joyful song was interrupted as feminine gasps mingled with masculine voices begging pardon.
“You must excuse us, my daughters, for intruding on you.” Joshua managed to cut through the confusion. “Walking in here was like walking out of a sandstorm and into a quiet garden. Salmone and I are grateful to you for your sweet song. It has refreshed my heart, and I needed the refreshment.” Salmone nodded in silent agreement.
“My lord,” his sister said, prostrating herself before Joshua. “You honor Salmone and me by visiting our tent. Let me bring you some refreshments.” Joshua graciously bent and lifted Miriam up.
To Salmone’s annoyance, Rahab stood. “Izzie and I should return. Forgive our encroachment.”
Joshua waved his hand. “Nonsense. It’s you I’ve come to see.”
“Me?”
“Watch out, Joshua,” Salmone cut in. “She’s likely to repeat everything you say when she is nervous.”
“And why should she be nervous? Come, daughter, and sit by me.” Salmone’s mouth tightened as he saw Rahab gulp. With hesitant steps she moved near the patriarch before kneeling beside him. He noticed she tucked her hands into a fold in her dress to hide their trembling. He frowned, not understanding her extreme apprehension around Joshua. Or himself. It was as if she always expected them to put her down or cast her out. Why couldn’t the woman comprehend that she was safe now?
Rahab tried to quiet the rapid beating of her heart. It made little sense that a man of Joshua’s stature would trouble himself on her account.
“Salmone told me what happened this morning.” Joshua spoke as if on cue. “I wanted to see for myself that you had recovered.”
“You shouldn’t have concerned yourself, my lord. As you see, I’m fine.”
“What I see is the mark of my people’s insolence on your lovely face.” Joshua exhaled as though his breath weighed too much. “This has been the most abominable day. Achan is dead and buried in the valley beyond. Already the people call it the Valley of Achor for the trouble we have been through over this whole matter. It makes me furious that my people have added to our troubles by raising their hand against you. Please forgive us for our arrogance and prejudice, Rahab.”
Rahab shook her head. “Their suspicion i
s understandable.” Wrenching, but understandable. “I hope that in time they’ll come to trust us.”
“I will do what I can for you. I can promise that none of our number shall lift a hand against you or your family again. They might remain cold and distant for a time, though. You must forbear until they come to know you better. Don’t give way to discouragement.”
“Thank you, my lord, for your help.”
“No need to thank me.” He smiled a lopsided smile. “It’s only your due. You’re one of us now, no matter how the children of Israel treat you.”
Rahab looked down. These were sweet words, by far some of the sweetest she had ever heard. Words of belonging. Words of vindication. Joshua was treating her as though he truly accepted her. Cared for her wellbeing, even. It seemed impossible that such a man—lofty in position as well as holiness—would stoop to provide for her needs. And yet here he was, exhausted from a sleepless night and burdened by a nightmare day, come expressly for the purpose of reassuring her.
Perhaps that was why she couldn’t quite accept the validity of his words. She heard them. Her brain understood them. But in her deepest being, she could not receive them. In her secret heart she believed that it was a matter of time before Joshua would be disappointed with her. Like everyone else, he would turn his back on her when he came to know her. She bit her lip and frowned. Rahab knew that she would feel the bitterness of Joshua’s rejection far more than the sweetness of his present support. The rejection would feel real. True. His praise felt hollow—unreal.
Joshua, misconstruing her expression, said to Salmone, “She’s weary. Salmone, walk Rahab and her sister to their settlement and make sure their neighbors behave. Then come to my tent after supper, and I will tell the leaders about what we shall do regarding Ai.”
They rose in respect as Joshua stood to leave, but he refused further escort outdoors. The tent seemed to shrink in his absence. Salmone turned to Rahab. “Would you like to rest here awhile before we go?”