His sons wanted to go and pressed Caleb daily for permission.
“Everyone is going. We’re the only ones who show such a lack of hospitality to Moses’ relatives.”
“You will not go over to them.”
“Carmi lets his son go.”
“And Salu.”
“Salu is a Simeonite. You answer to me. And I say no. If you ask again, I will find work to keep you so tired you won’t be able to stand, let alone think about Midianite women or their feasts!”
Despite Caleb’s warning, some of the Judean men went to visit the Midianites. They didn’t return until late. Several missed morning worship. One collapsed during training exercises. Caleb had no sympathy or patience. “Get your face out of the dirt.”
The young man struggled to his feet, sallow, trembling, unable to look Caleb in the eye.
“Go back to your tent, Asriel.” Caleb glowered in disgust. “Go! Now! Before I beat you into the ground!” He watched the young man stumble away. Turning to the others, he pointed after Asriel. “Can any man in that condition stand against the enemy? That is what happens when you stay out all night. You are worse than useless. You will cost the lives of your brothers! Never forget we serve the Lord, the God of Israel. And we are preparing to enter Canaan at His command. Our inheritance is over there.” He stretched out his arm. “The Canaanites will not throw open their gates to welcome us. Balak is building a force against us. We do not have time to dance and sing and feast with Midianites.”
“The Lord has sent a plague upon us!” the people cried out.
The people wailed, mourning the young men who were dying. “Why?” a mother cried. “We have done everything God asked of us, and now He kills our children! Why?”
Asriel died. He was the first of many. None of Caleb’s sons were sick, but he questioned them anyway, pressing until they told him what others had told them about the Midianites and their comely young women and the feasts that went on beneath the spreading oaks.
“No wonder God is killing us.” Caleb wept. “We have sinned against him.” Caleb looked at Joshua, sitting beside Moses, with the other elders gathered to discuss the plague that was spreading through the camp. Hundreds had died, and hundreds more fell ill every day.
“How have we sinned?” someone asked.
“The Midianites.”
“They are our friends,” another insisted.
“What friendship do we have with those who worship idols? Remember Egypt!” Caleb had to remind himself that the men gathered here had no recollection of what had happened there other than what had been told to them. They were the sons of those who had come out of slavery. “The Moabites and Midianites know we belong to the God who destroyed Egypt with plagues. They know we serve Him. They are cunning enough to realize that they must drive a wedge between us and the God we serve. So they send their beautiful young women to entice our young men into Baal worship. These women were sent to turn the hearts and minds of our sons away from God! And God is judging us for our unfaithfulness.”
“I’ve seen nothing of that sort in our camp.”
“Or ours!”
“Will we always be like this?” Caleb shouted, furious. Would they never understand? “Talking and talking. And still you fail to understand. God does not send a plague without cause. He does not punish without reason. We must examine ourselves so that we can repent!”
Moses leaned close to Joshua and spoke to him. Joshua nodded his head and whispered back. Agitated, others began talking at once.
“Salu,” Caleb said loudly, “my sons tell me that your son Zimri visits the Midianites.”
Salu the Simeonite looked less than pleased to be the center of attention. “He goes to tell them of our God.”
“He brought a girl back with him,” another added.
Moses’ head came up. Joshua stared.
Salu shook his head. “No. You’re wrong.”
“I was on my way here when I saw your son with her,” the man said. “I stopped him and asked what he was doing. He said he wanted all his friends to join him in a celebration, and this woman, Cozbi, had come to encourage us. He said she is the daughter of one of the Midianite chieftains. Zur, I think is his name.”
“Invite his friends to a celebration?” Men looked at one another. “What did he mean by that?”
Abruptly, Phinehas rose and strode away from the gathering of elders. His father, Eleazar, high priest and son of Aaron, called after him. Phinehas didn’t answer. He went into his tent and came out with a spear in his hand.
Caleb rose, staring after him. His heart raced. The son of the high priest looked neither to the right nor to the left as he strode toward the tents of Simeon. Caleb had never seen such an expression of wrath on a man’s face, even in battle.
Moses’ eyes went wide. At a word, Joshua was on his feet and following the high priest’s son, Caleb right on his heels.
“What’s the matter?” The others clamored to their feet. “What’s happening?”
Phinehas broke into a run, spear high in his fist. He gave no battle cry as he charged. People scattered before him.
Caleb and Joshua ran after him, others falling in behind them. Among the tents of Simeon rose sounds of celebration. A circle of men and women stood around the entrance of a tent, staring, restless, moving, pressing in and leaning forward to see more.
“Get back!” At Joshua’s shout, the people parted like a sea, exposing the debauchery that had so excited them. Some ducked their heads and ran, diving into their tents to hide themselves.
Phinehas entered the tent. With a loud cry, he planted his feet on either side of the couple writhing upon the mat, raised the spear in both hands, and brought it down with his full strength. The Midianite girl had seen him and screamed. Too late, she tried to kick back from beneath Salu’s son, still in the throes of violent passion. Phinehas bore down on the spear, driving it through them both, pinning them to the ground. Salu’s son died quickly, but Cozbi clawed and shoved, kicked and screamed, pressing her heels until blood spilled from her mouth. Phinehas held the spear until there was no movement, then let go and backed away, gasping for breath.
Moses ordered the Israelite sons to stay away from the Midianite camp. No further contact was to be made with the Midianites. Eleazar made atonement for the people who stood silent in fear of the plague. How many more would die before the Lord took mercy upon them?
“From this day forth,” Moses told the people, “treat the Midianites as enemies. Kill them! They treated us as enemies.” He called for a census. Twenty-four thousand had died in the plague. Still, Israel’s numbers had increased since the first census before the Mountain of God.
Only two men remained from the generation of slaves who had been delivered from Egypt: Joshua from the tribe of Ephraim and Caleb of Judah.
“The Lord has called for vengeance on the Midianites!” Moses told the people. “Arm one thousand men from each tribe and send them into battle.” Phinehas would lead them into battle, taking with him the holy items and the trumpets for signaling.
Whispers of alarm went through some ranks. Twelve thousand against hundreds of thousands? They would be slaughtered!
Faithless. Even now, faithless. “The Lord is with us!” Caleb shouted.
“Fear no man!” Joshua called out, raising his sword.
After years of drilling and practicing, the young men were eager to fight and prove themselves in battle. Everyone wanted to go. Caleb called for a lottery to eliminate all but the one thousand men God would assign to fight for Judah. His sons were among them. They stood ready, dressed for battle, swords in hand, shielded by their faith in the living God they served. They had received the Lord’s instructions. Now it remained to be seen if they would obey and receive the victory.
Caleb found himself left behind with the other leaders of the community, Joshua among them. Neither was at ease with the waiting.
Caleb heard the shofar blast in the distance and then the war cries of
twelve thousand men going into battle. He longed to run with those men, to wield his sword, to kill God’s enemies. But he waited with Joshua and the multitude. Let the younger men be tested.
Hour after hour passed. Moses prayed. Joshua prayed. Caleb tried, but his mind was in the midst of that battle, hands clenched, and sweat pouring. His sons had gone out to battle. His sons!
Don’t let them fail, Lord. Hold them to their word. Keep their minds fixed upon You. Keep them faithful.
Forty years he had waited to enter the Promised Land. Forty years he had wandered with the sons of those who had refused to listen to his report about Canaan.
Messengers arrived. The Midianites had been conquered; the five kings—Evi, Rekem, Zur, Hur, and Reba—killed, as well as Balaam, King Balak’s advisor. The men were returning in triumph.
Caleb noticed Moses’ anger and joined Joshua and Eleazar, the high priest. “What’s wrong?”
“The men are bringing back captives.”
Fear gripped Caleb. Would the Lord send yet another plague upon them?
Herds of cattle and flocks of sheep and goats were being driven toward the camp, and Caleb could see carts of plunder and men carrying all manner of goods they had taken from the Midianite cities and villages.
“Why have you let all the women live?” Moses cried out against them. “These are the very ones who followed Balaam’s advice and caused the people of Israel to rebel against the Lord at Mount Peor. They are the ones who caused the plague to strike the Lord’s people. Now kill all the boys and all the women who have slept with a man. Only the young girls who are virgins may live; you may keep them for yourselves.”
Those who had fought in the battle were commanded to remain outside of camp. They were to wash themselves and their clothing and everything made of leather, goat hair, or wood. All gold, silver, bronze, iron, tin, and lead were to be put through the fire. Every idol and item bearing the emblems and symbols of pagan gods would be melted down. The spoils were divided among the soldiers who had taken part in the battle and with the rest of the community. One out of every five hundred persons, cattle, donkeys, goats, and sheep was given as tribute for the Lord and placed in the care of the Levites.
Caleb’s sons returned to their tents with their share of plunder. He stood as they approached, heat surging into his face, every muscle taut. Mesha and Mareshah stood before him with the confidence of soldiers who had returned from a great victory. And indeed it had been. Not one Israelite had fallen.
“We have brought you presents, Father.”
“I asked for nothing.” Nor did he want what they had brought back to him.
“You have not had the comfort of a woman since Jerioth and Ephrathah died.”
“And you think I will take a Midianite as my wife? I am the one who told you to have no commerce with them!”
“These girls are no longer Midianite. They belong to us now. If you will not have them as wives, take them as concubines.”
“They know nothing of who we are or what we’ve been through. Nor of the God we serve.”
“Then teach them as you taught us,” Mareshah said gravely.
Mesha stepped closer. “We must increase our numbers, Father. And you need women to accomplish that.” He grasped one of the girls by the arm and yanked her forward. “She is young, healthy, and gave us no trouble. Do with her what you will.” He pushed her forward.
The girl looked at Caleb with calf eyes. He could see nothing in her expression to give him any idea of what she was thinking. He thought of the young Midianite women laughing and beckoning to the men he had trained, leading them away like lambs to the slaughter. Twenty-four thousand had died because men had been easily seduced into Baal worship. The girl had slender curves and smooth olive skin. She would become a beautiful woman. He put his hand to his sword and drew it.
Though the girl’s lips parted, she didn’t speak. Closing her eyes, she knelt and bowed her head.
“It would be a waste to kill her, Father.” Mesha made no move to stop him.
“Do you mock me?” Caleb was eighty years old.
“All those who called you a dog are dead. You are respected by all who know you. And you are my father. You would have led us into battle if God had called you to do it!” Mesha said.
“Moses said we were to keep the virgins.” Mareshah spoke quietly.
Hur stretched out his hand and drew another comely young woman forward. “You deserve the best of our portion.” The second young woman knelt beside the first, trembling.
Mesha gripped Caleb’s sword arm. “They are yours, Father. Make good use of them for all our sakes.”
Left alone, Caleb stood over the two young women, sword in hand.
Judgment or mercy, Lord. What do I do?
He waited, longing for a word, a sign, from the Lord. He studied the two before him. One finally raised her head and looked at him. Her dark eyes shone with fear, but she did not beg for her life. The other girl, still trembling violently, began to sob.
Caleb thought of the countless times God had shown mercy to him and to the people. Was it only accident or circumstance that had plucked these two young women from their foul culture and placed them here in the midst of Israel? Or did God have a plan for them, too?
“I am Caleb.” He put his hand over his heart. “Caleb.”
The girl who was looking at him placed her hand over her heart. “Maacah.” She touched the bowed head of her sobbing companion. “Ephah.”
“Life and death are before you. If you learn the law of God and obey, you will live.”
Maacah frowned, perplexed. She spread her hands and shook her head.
Caleb scowled. Of course she could not understand his language. But she must learn the most important thing, language barrier or not. “The Lord.” He spoke firmly, with a nod of expectation. “The Lord!”
She understood. “The Lord.” She spoke hesitantly, then drew up the girl beside her. She spoke to her. Then they both spoke together. “The Lord.”
It was not enough to repeat what he said. They must understand he was not speaking of himself, but of the One they must learn to serve. Caleb stretched out his arm, pointing toward the Tabernacle, where the Ark of the Lord was hidden in the Holy of Holies. “The Lord. The Lord, He is God!”
Maacah’s beautiful dark eyes widened. “The Lord.” She spoke in awe. Her expression gave Caleb cause to hope. If these two young women learned that, they would have learned more than the people who had wandered and died in the wilderness.
“The Lord, He is God.”
The two young women repeated Caleb’s words.
Caleb sheathed his sword. He called to one of his granddaughters. He pointed at each of the young women his sons had given him and gave their names. “See that they learn our language. Then they will learn the law of God.”
He would not have anything to do with them until they did.
FOUR
“When you cross the Jordan River into the land of Canaan, you must drive out all the people living there.”
Caleb stood in front of the tribe of Judah, listening to Moses give the Lord’s instructions. This should be a day of exultation, but he felt weighed down. Forty years had passed. The wandering was over. And he was an eighty-year-old man. But it was not the years that burdened him. It was the responsibility for these people.
“You must destroy all their carved and molten images and demolish all their pagan shrines.” Moses’ voice carried. “Take possession of the land and settle in it, because I have given it to you to occupy. You must distribute the land among the clans.”
Caleb had been placed in charge of all of Judah.
“If you fail to drive out the people who live in the land, those who remain will be like splinters in your eyes and thorns in your sides. They will harass you in the land where you live. And then the Lord will do to you what He plans to do to them!”
Time passed quickly as Moses reminded them of the plagues of Egypt and their own sins. �
��Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commandments I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are away on a journey, when you are lying down and when you are getting up again. They are life to you. Make no treaties with the people of the land and show them no mercy. Do not intermarry with them.”
Moses spread his hands as though he would embrace all of them. “I am now one hundred and twenty years old and am no longer able to lead you. The Lord has told me that I will not cross the Jordan River.”
The people wailed and cried out in protest. Caleb clenched his teeth, tears spilled into his beard, his throat was tight and on fire. He looked at Joshua, standing tall beside Moses, his face set.
Moses raised his voice and through it came the voice of God. The Lord your God Himself will cross over ahead of you!
The people grew quiet again, grieving, yet obedient.
“The Lord will destroy the nations living there, and you will take possession of their land. Joshua is your new leader, and he will go with you, just as the Lord promised.”
Eleazar the high priest anointed Joshua, after which Moses laid hands upon him and commissioned him to carry out the Lord’s commands. Then raising his hands to the cloud overshadowing them, Moses sang Israel’s history. He sang blessings upon them. And then he dismissed the congregation.
“He’s gone.” Joshua’s voice was thick, fear glistening in his dark eyes.
“Gone where?”
“Up Mount Nebo.” Joshua wept like a boy who had lost his father.
Caleb could not give in to tears, not if he was to be of any help to Joshua. “He will see the whole of the land God is giving us from there. He will see from Gilead to the Negev, from the Jordan Valley and Jericho as far as Zoar.”
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