by Brian Godawa
“The god of Peor,” said Sudru. And then he lifted his brow with a proud gossipy grin and said, “Ba’al.”
It could not be more perfect. Ba’al, the very god of the Anakim, Israel’s ultimate enemy, was already undermining Yahweh’s inheritance through spiritual adultery, and they had not even yet faced off in confrontation.
“Well then,” said Sheshai with a pleased smirk, “We must certainly let the influence of Ba’al do his work on these people, And we will see which god ends up dispossessing which people after all.”
Chapter 26
Zimri ben Salu was an Israelite of the tribe of Simeon. He was a respected leader in the community. He had married a woman named Cozbi of the house of Zur, a tribal leader of the Midianites. The Midianites were a nomadic tribe that had recently found their home in Moabite territory.
The law of Yahweh delivered on Mount Sinai had demanded that Israelites not intermarry with the Canaanites because of their gods and abominable practices. They were to devote the peoples of Canaan to complete destruction and to show them no mercy. This was called herem, a holy ban on idolatry and its insidious effects.
But the way of man is to find loopholes to satisfy his appetite. And the loophole in this case was the fact that Yahweh named the seven nations of Canaan that they were to clear away. These were the Hittites, the Girgashites, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites.
But Zimri had figured that the Midianites and Moabites were not a part of that ban since they were on the Transjordan side of Canaan and not a part of the herem. And after all, Moses had stayed with the Midianites for many years when he was AWOL from Egypt, and his first wife, Zipporah, had been a Midianite.
But Yahweh was not concerned about the foreign people; he was concerned about their foreign gods. As soon as Zimri found Cozbi and married her, she brought along her household gods, the teraphim, and her worship of Ashtart.
Cozbi had no problem with Yahweh. She would be willing to worship Yahweh as well as her local deities. They could all be one happy family of gods.
Zimri was one of many Israelites who could see the benefit of ecumenical coexistence. Yes, Yahweh was the chief of all gods. He would receive Zimri’s highest worship. Zimri would continue to bring his sacrifices to the tabernacle as required, and keep the Sabbath and other laws of his people. But to appease his wife, he would also participate in the Midianite rituals and sacrifices.
It seemed to him a rational proposition, since some of the deities of the pantheon had specific realms of authority and power. For instance; Resheph, the god of plague, was a very appropriate deity to seek appeasement in time of plague. And that is what the Israelites were suffering under at this very moment. Hundreds were dying of the strange sickness throughout the camp, including some of Zimri’s own family. It was an epidemic.
So this day, Zimri awoke and bowed down to Cozbi’s little terra cotta statues, graven images of the gods in a home shrine, and prayed to Resheph for mercy. The plague was so terrible that Midianite priests told their people a sacrifice would be required to stay Resheph’s mighty hand. Since the Israelites were the newcomers to the land, it could only be their fault for this calamity, so the god would require Israelites to bring an offering.
Cozbi had wept and pleaded with Zimri that she would be barren and may not ever be able to have sex again if they did not bring an offering to the high place on Mount Nebo, not far from camp.
Zimri had become despondent. He knew that Yahweh forbade offerings to other deities, and that he demanded exclusive sacrifice to himself. But he also knew that Cozbi had made sacrifices in the past that seemed to be accepted by her gods.
When they were married she made an offering of two turtle doves and a goat for fertility to Ba’al, and she became pregnant immediately. Later, a sacrifice of grain offering to Chemosh had healed their newborn son from sickness.
Cozbi’s passionate pleading was evidence of a spiritual devotion that he lacked in his own life. She would spend hours in prayer sometimes, singing and weeping. She would have the most contented presence about her when she spoke of Ashtart. And the goddess of sex seemed to make Cozbi quite erotic in bed as well, which was very satisfying to Zimri.
It had become apparent to Zimri that Cozbi had a more meaningful experience of her faith than he ever had of his. So who was he to deny such powerful experience? How could he demand his exclusive god when he did not experience even half of the emotional connection to Yahweh that Cozbi did with Ashtart? Maybe he needed to be more open-minded and tolerant, more inclusive in his beliefs.
He joined her in cutting himself before the household shrine in request for mercy. They took blades and made cuts that would bleed onto the floor with spiritual fervor.
Then Cozbi led them in a series of chants to Ashtart in order to draw down the deity into their bodies and inhabit them with her glorious splendor.
They would twitch and jerk as they felt a spirit enter them and fill their limbs.
Zimri felt lifted to the heavens. He felt possessed by the deity, by the spirit of Ashtart. It was as if clarity came over him and he could see, hear, and feel like a god himself.
They walked their family up to the foothills of Mount Nebo with a thousand other Israelites and their Moabite and Midianite spouses and concubines. There were some from every tribe of Israel who had embraced the foreign deities. It was a harmony that Zimri had not seen or felt for years as he grew up wandering in the wilderness.
He had seen how grumbling and complaining the tribes had been and how divisive they were amongst themselves, fighting for the best piece of land to place their tent, arguing over their limited resources of water and manna.
But here, there was such a mutual respect for one another’s deities, and a harmonic convergence of unity within diversity. Whether you worshipped Ba’al, Chemosh, Molech, Ashtart or Resheph, everyone united in this beautiful moment before the high place that looked out over the valley below.
The Midianite and Moabite priests worked together in sacred unity to call upon the gods on their stone platform raised six feet above the ground. They made some burnt offerings to Ba’al, Chemosh, and Molech, and they copulated with the sacred prostitutes of Ashtart, called zonah.
Their last appeal was to call out to the god Resheph to avert the plague that had consumed the land. The priests cut themselves as Zimri and Cozbi had done in private, and danced before their deity with abandon upon the raised dais.
And then they held their hands out to the Israelites and called out, “Now, may you bring your offerings unto Resheph that he might hear your cries and be satisfied with your sacrifice and turn this plague away!”
Zimri and Cozbi were crying. They knew what they had come to do. It was a difficult sacrifice to make. But it was a necessary one.
They took their newborn son, along with dozens of other Israelites and their infants, up to the altar to have their throats slit and bled to appease the god of plague.
Chapter 27
The congregation of Israel had assembled around the Tent of Meeting in the aisles and open areas that stretched out from the center of the camp. They wept in repentance before Yahweh for their sin that had caused the plague upon Israel. Moses had led them in prayer at the opening of the tent. Joshua stood beside him, along with the priests Eleazer and his son Phineas.
Caleb watched and prayed from the front of the assembly with the elders, judges, and leaders of tribes. He could not comprehend why Israelites would take such pains to turn aside to the Canaanite gods that he and his Canaanite clan had taken such pains to turn away from. There was much crying and wailing throughout the camp for the suffering of the plague. Moses was weeping as much as the rest of them.
Joshua was angry. He had been in the tent when Yahweh commanded Moses what to do. He had seen the idolatry of Israel as it worshipped Ba’al and the other gods of the pantheon. They were not yet in their Promised Land of Canaan, and they were already playing the harlot with Ba’al of Pe
or. It was a form of spiritual adultery.
Yahweh had taken care of them in the desert wilderness these forty years until all the original gripers and complainers were dead. they had just conquered the Transjordan and the mighty Og of Bashan as a prelude to Canaan. And still—still—these pathetic miserable backsliding wretches were already fornicating with Ba’al like wanton harlots. They worshipped household idols and even engaged in human sacrifice on Mount Nebo to the god of plague.
The plague was therefore an ugly but fitting expression of a spiritual judgment. Afflicted Israelites would get puss filled boils and rashes in their genitals and anus like a sexual disease. Their excrement would be full of blood, both solid and liquid, and excruciatingly painful to release. After a few days, if the victim did not get well, their genitals would turn black and rot. Within a week, the victim would be dead.
It disgusted Joshua. Not the plague so much as the spiritual and moral corruption that it pointed toward. These Canaanite gods of depravity inspired the debasement of every aspect of Yahweh’s image in man. They bred sexual perversions that violated all sacred separations: Fornication, Incest, adultery, homosexuality, bestiality; they provoked fetishes with excrement like vomit and fecal matter; and they defaced the body with occultic tattoos and mutilations. And they mocked the atonement of redemption with their human sacrifices.
Israel had become a festering cesspool of evil.
The only thing that made Joshua feel any better was knowing that he was to be the instrument for Yahweh’s cleansing. Sin was a cancerous tumor. It had to be gouged out, not merely from those who hated Yahweh, but also from Yahweh’s own people.
Moses spoke to the congregation, “Leaders of Israel, bring forth your clan heads from all the twelve tribes!”
The twelve clan leaders stepped forward with trepidation. They knew this could not be good.
“Hear O Israel, Yahweh our God is a holy God! And these leaders of the clans have not exercised their authority in honor of Yahweh’s holiness! They have allowed Ba’al worship to thrive amidst their tribes!”
The twelve clan leaders looked at one another in fear.
Moses turned to Joshua and said, “Commence the judgment of Yahweh.”
Joshua called forth a contingent of the army that had been situated by the side of the tabernacle.
They came forward and grabbed the clan leaders.
They dragged them over to a clearing and took twelve-foot long pikes and impaled the leaders on them. They hung them in the sun for all to see, that Yahweh might turn away his wrath.
Then Moses said, “Judges of Israel, each of you kill those of your men who have yoked themselves to Ba’al of Peor.”
Women screamed and guilty men took off, trying to escape the swords that came after them. Men were hacked and hewn by the edge of sword and axe for their abominable practices in Israel’s midst. Yahweh’s zeal for holiness did not end with the Canaanite heathen. It applied as much to Israel as to anyone else. Yahweh would not compromise his glory.
At that moment, Phineas noticed Zimri was with his Midianite wife Cozbi among the congregation. Though many Israelites had also taken pagan women as their wives and concubines, they would not bring them in the congregation of the holy ones, because Yahweh had forbidden such contamination. But Zimri had become so brash as to parade his idolatrous wife in the presence of the holy.
Phineas saw Zimri pulling Cozbi away with him through the throng. He was getting away without being recognized.
Phineas grabbed a spear from a nearby soldier and made his way after Zimri.
When Zimri and Cozbi reached their tent, they closed their entrance flap and hid inside. They had avoided detection.
“What shall we do, my love?” asked Cozbi. “They will surely find us and inevitably kill us both.”
Zimri thought. “We just gave our firstborn to Resheph. He promised us fertility to replace our sacrifice. And I cannot imagine an Israelite soldier killing you if we can say you are with child.”
She looked at him with surprise. He was right.
They tore at each other’s clothes and fell to the floor in heated passion.
He entered her and they worked furiously toward climax.
They would find their way out of this terrible situation.
They would bring new life that would protect them both.
Cozbi was breathless as she moaned, “Oh, Ba’al, oh Ba’al, Oh Ba’al!”
But then she opened her eyes just as Zimri’s groans were reaching their height—only to see the form of Phineas with spear above them.
Zimri cried out in ecstasy and Cozbi screamed in fear, as Phineas thrust the spear through them both, skewering them through the abdomens and her womb.
It was another terrible spiritual picture of the monstrous evil of idolatry that day.
And it was the act that stopped the plague.
From that moment on, the sickness released its stranglehold on the Israelites and faded away. Phineas would receive a promise of perpetual priesthood for his act, because that very day Phineas was jealous for Yahweh and made atonement for the people of Israel.
Chapter 28
Moses stood before Joshua, Caleb, and the commanders of thousands and hundreds and fifties in the war tent. He spoke with resolute firmness.
“Yahweh has commanded us to avenge the people of Israel upon the Midianites. These people have become a thorn in our side with their seduction of idolatry. Their god Ashtoreth is an abomination.”
Ashtoreth was the name that the Israelites called Ashtart. It was an insult. By using the consonants of the name Ashtart, and combining them with the vowels from their word bosheth, which meant “shame,” they created the name Ashtoreth.
Moses continued, “Yahweh wants you to kill all the kings of Midian: Evi, Rekem, Hur, Reba, and Zur, the father of Cozbi, whom Phineas killed. And you are to kill all the males along with them.”
“How many troop divisions, my lord?” asked Joshua.
“Twelve,” said Moses. “One from each tribe.”
That would give them about a thousand men.
“And if you find this Balaam, son of Beor,” said Moses, “execute him as well.”
• • • • •
The troops of Israel took several days to rout out the Midianite tribes of the five kings that were in the land of Moab.
It was a bloodbath.
On the last day, they were trampling the clan of Zur. Caleb fought next to Joshua as he always did. But he had been noticing a change in his commander with each battle. Joshua had been losing the zeal of righteousness and was becoming more like a wild marauder.
This very day, Joshua and Caleb had cut down a unit of Midianite men all by themselves.
Caleb had stopped to catch his breath from their strenuous battle.
He noticed Joshua standing over a fallen soldier, holding his blade in the Midianite’s gut.
The Midianite was barely alive. He groaned with pain.
Joshua looked at him without a shred of emotion or soul. It was like a spider observing a fly caught in its web.
Joshua twisted the blade. The soldier cried out, “Mercy!”
Joshua twisted it again. The soldier pleaded, “I beg of you! Mercy!”
But Joshua was reveling in the soldier’s misery.
He said with calm, “No mercy,” and pushed the blade again.
The soldier cried out in anguish.
Until Caleb appeared and cut off the soldier’s head with his sword.
Joshua gave him an angry look.
Caleb diverted his attention, “Commander, we have found the prophet Balaam son of Beor. He is holed up in a cave.”
Joshua turned to see the messenger who had brought the intelligence. He had not even heard the messenger’s arrival. He had been swept up in the torture of his victim.
Then Joshua stiffened with resolve and marched right past Caleb like a predator zeroed in on blood.
Joshua and Caleb arrived at the foothills and got of
f their horses. There was a unit of soldiers standing guard. Hanging foliage disguised the opening from the casual observer.
They walked up to the captain who told them, “Balaam is in there with some women and children and elderly from the city. This appears to be one of the hideouts for the locals.”
Joshua asked, “Are there any soldiers with them? Guards? Hostages?”
“We do not know, Commander.”
Joshua walked to the cave entrance without pausing. He drew his sword and marched inward.
Caleb yelled, “Commander, what are you doing?”
He ran after him.
As Joshua’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a trail of people cowering along the walls.
But some of them were men: farmers, elderly.
Others were not.
Two men stood in his way with swords. They were not soldiers; they were shepherds standing their ground to protect their innocent ones.
Joshua cut them down without losing stride.
A woman screamed.
Three other men approached him to negotiate.
But Joshua chopped off one’s arm and disemboweled the other two.
“Commander!” yelled Caleb from behind. “This is unnecessary!”
But Joshua did not stop. Until he came upon a large group of people; men, women, and children surrounding a cloaked man at the back of the crowd.
It was the seer.
Joshua yelled, “Balaam son of Beor, your judgment has arrived! Prepare to pay for your deeds!”
The tunnel was too small for people to move out of the way. They were crammed in the space.
Joshua walked through the crowd, slashing and hacking at anyone in his way. Screams of pain echoed through the cave.
Caleb tried to stop Joshua, but he shoved Caleb to the ground and kept going; cutting, slicing, and impaling men, women and children, until he arrived at the cowering form of Balaam.
The seer was wearing a cloak and had long white hair and a beard. He clutched a sack that apparently contained his wages of unrighteousness.