The Ark of the Covenant passed before them, and he felt tingling excitement in his soul. The priests carried the Ark toward the Jordan River. At the prescribed distance, the tribes began to follow. The land was alive with the moving populace, thousands walking with an assurance of victory.
They camped near the Jordan, and Joshua spoke to the people. “Purify yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do great wonders among you.”
Men separated from their wives and washed their garments. Salmon was among the multitude of men. He fasted from everything but the small portion of manna he had gathered that morning and spent the evening inside his tent, alone and in prayer.
When the sun rose, Salmon stood once again among the thousands, waiting to hear Joshua proclaim the Word of the Lord. “Sons of Israel, come and hear the words of the Lord your God!”
Salmon moved forward with his brothers and cousins so they were shoulder to shoulder. Joshua raised his hands, his voice strong and carrying to the farthest members of the congregation. “Come and listen to what the Lord your God says. Today you will know that the living God is among you. He will surely drive out the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites. Think of it! The Ark of the Covenant, which belongs to the Lord of the whole earth, will lead you across the Jordan River! The priests will be carrying the Ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth. When their feet touch the water, the flow of water will be cut off upstream, and the river will pile up there in one heap.”
At Joshua’s command, the priests carrying the Ark started out once again toward the river.
Salmon stretched his neck to watch. His heart pounded. He feared God as much as he loved Him. Whenever the Ark was carried before Salmon, he trembled with an inexplicable excitement. His skin tingled. The hair on the back of his neck rose. He’d grown up seeing the cloud lift from the tabernacle, giving the sign that the people were to move their camp. He’d seen the pillar of fire at night. But he hadn’t been born yet when his people left Egypt. He hadn’t seen the miracles done there or the parting of the Red Sea so that the Israelites could cross on dry land. He trembled, his breathing shaky, anticipating how the Lord would enable His people to cross the rushing torrent of the Jordan.
The Ark was far ahead of the people. Was God showing them that He didn’t need their protection? Had the people been allowed, they would have clustered tightly around the Ark as it moved, but it was out there ahead, the gold shimmering in the sunlight and showing them the way. As they came closer to the river, everyone grew quieter. No one moved, no one spoke as they watched and waited for the command to go forward.
The priests reached the bank of the Jordan. They didn’t hesitate but walked straight into the flooded Jordan. And as they did, there was a roaring sound such as Salmon had never heard in all his life. The hair stood on the back of his neck as he saw the water draw back, a hiss of steam billowing up. Walking in faith, the priests carried the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord to the center of the riverbed and stopped there, planting their feet. The golden Ark glistened in the morning sunlight.
And thousands upon thousands followed.
When the people were safely across the river, Joshua announced that the Lord had told him to choose twelve men, one from each tribe. As head of the tribe of Judah, Caleb called out the name of the man who would represent them. Jedidiah pressed forward. He was easily seen, taller and stronger than all the rest, and the men of Judah slapped him on the back and gave him room to walk to the front of the tribe and stand beside Caleb. The old man put his hand on Jedidiah’s shoulders, spoke to him softly, and released him. Jedidiah ran ahead and joined the eleven other tribal representatives near Joshua.
“Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the Lord your God,” Joshua called out to the twelve representatives of the tribes. “Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder—twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes. We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future, your children will ask, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a permanent memorial among the people of Israel.”
Joshua and the twelve men strode forward.
* * *
Rahab heard someone screaming and ran to the window. Leaning out, she saw a soldier running up the road. “They’re coming! They’re coming! The Israelites are heading for the river!” On the east side of the Jordan, a cloud of dust rose as a mass of people headed for the river, but what caught her attention was something ahead of them, something that shone brightly and sent shafts of light in all directions! Was it the Ark of the Lord that she had heard about?
Her lips parted as she saw two lines of steam shoot into the air and move back from the small figures now moving down into the riverbed. Her skin tingled as a rush of emotions took hold of her. Fear. Exaltation. Awe. She was laughing and crying at the same time. Her heart galloped. She leaned so far out the window, she almost toppled. A miracle. She was seeing a miracle! “What a mighty God He is!” she cried out as men shouted from the ramparts.
Steam continued to rise, forming a cloud over the river. Panic-stricken, people outside the walls were screaming and running toward the city like a stampeding flock. Did she hear, or only imagine, the sound of a ram’s horn? The army of Israelites was crossing the Jordan. There were thousands upon thousands of them spreading out across the plains of Moab. They were as many as the stars in the heavens. They moved quickly but in order.
Rahab looked away and craned her neck toward the grove of palms. “Come, Father, come on. Where are you?” Farmers and workers were running toward Jericho. She slapped her hands on the windows, fighting against her impatience. Finally she saw him. Her mother followed, and both were struggling beneath burdens of belongings.
“Leave everything!” Rahab shouted. “Come as you are!”
It was useless to yell. They couldn’t hear her above the din of panicked citizens descending upon the already overcrowded gates. She waved frantically. Her father saw her but dropped nothing. Tiring, her mother slid her heavy bundle to the ground and began dragging it behind her.
“Run!” Rahab gestured wildly. “Everything you need is here!”
They plodded along, stubbornly hanging on to everything they owned. Rahab cursed in frustration. A crowd was pressing through the gates. Someone was shrieking. Someone had probably fallen and was now being trampled. They sounded like a mob of wild animals, fists flying as those who were stronger tried to beat their way ahead of everyone else.
Someone banged on her door. “Rahab!” Mizraim called. “Let us in!”
She yanked the bar up and opened the door so that he and his wife, Basemath, could enter. They were carrying their two children. Jobab and his wife, Gowlan, were hurrying down the street, shouting for their children to hurry ahead. They all looked wild-eyed and pale with fear, and everyone carried something. Rahab shook her head at their choices as they entered her house: a pot; a painted urn; a basket containing a kohl bottle, tweezers, an ointment box, jewelry, and a horn of oil.
Mizraim’s baby boy screamed until Basemath sat on Rahab’s bed and nursed him. When footsteps raced across Rahab’s roof, Mizraim’s daughter dropped the urn. It shattered on the floor. Mizraim shouted at her. Crying hysterically, the little girl ran to her mother and clung to her.
“Hush, Mizraim. You’re behaving as badly as those madmen at the gate. You’re only frightening the children more.” Rahab scooped up the little girl and hugged her. “We’re all safe here, Bosem.” She kissed her cheek. “Everything will be all right.” She waved her hand, beckoning the others. “Come on, children. All of you. I have some things for you.” She set Bosem on her feet and put out a basket of painted sticks and knucklebones. “Awbeeb, my sweet, come play with your cousins.”
Rahab’s sisters, Hagri and Gerah, and their husbands, Vaheb and Zebach
, arrived with their children in tow. “People are going mad out there!” Seeing the others, the boys and girls joined their cousins in their games of knucklebones and pickup sticks.
“Where are Father and Mother?” Jobab said.
“I lost sight of them when they joined the crowd at the gate,” Rahab answered, nodding toward the window as she took the baby from Basemath. “See if you can spot them, Mizraim.” She lifted the child to her shoulder and held him close, patting his back and pacing.
“I heard the guards are going to close the gate,” Jobab said.
“They’ll let everyone in,” Rahab said calmly. “The king will want every able-bodied worker inside before the gates are closed. If his army perishes, he’ll have the citizenry standing on the walls and throwing rocks.” She was angry that her father hadn’t done as she told him. He and her mother should have dropped everything and come running with the first cry of that soldier running up the road. Had they listened, they would have been spared the violence at the gate. She hoped they wouldn’t be hurt in the pushing and shoving mob trying to get inside the city walls.
“I’ll go out and find them,” Mizraim said. “Bar the door behind me, Zebach.”
When an hour passed and he hadn’t returned, Basemath began weeping.
“As soon as Father and Mother make it into the city, he’ll come back,” Rahab said, trying to stay calm for the children’s sake. She could see the throng from her window and knew the city was filling with those who lived outside the walls. Even traveling merchants and caravans were clamoring to be let in.
“Let us in!” It was Mizraim. The women all sighed in relief as Zebach threw the bar off and yanked it open. Basemath ran to her disheveled husband and sobbed against his torn tunic. Rahab’s father was just behind him, his face bleeding.
Rahab poured some water into a bowl and then saw her mother dragging her bundle into the house. Thrusting the bowl into Hagri’s hands, Rahab strode across the room. “What’s so important you’d risk your lives to bring it with you?” she demanded, reaching for the bundle.
“No!” Her mother slapped her hands away, crying out. “No, no!”
Rahab fought tears of exasperation. She was so relieved to see them safe and yet so angry at their foolishness. She forced herself to display a calm she was far from feeling. “Here. Let me take it. I’ll be careful. Let go!”
Weeping, her mother sank to the floor, exhausted. She covered her head with her shawl and sobbed.
Her father brushed away Hagri’s attempts to aid him and stumbled wearily to the window. “Did you see it? Did you see what happened? The water rolled back like a carpet, toward the town of Adam and the Salt Sea.”
“I saw,” Rahab said. “The hand of God has come upon the land, and He will brush away His enemies like stones on a game table.”
Her father turned away from the window and sat heavily on the step she’d built. Rahab had never seen him so exhausted. He was trembling, and his face was sweating profusely. “You’re right, Rahab. They will destroy us. They’re coming across the plains of Moab like locusts, and they’ll destroy everything in their path.”
“Hush, Father.” Everyone was frightened enough without his fanning the flames of doom. She took the bowl of water from Hagri and knelt down before her father. She spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “As long as we stay inside this house, we’re safe.” Squeezing out the cloth, she dabbed his face gently.
“Never have I seen such a thing in all my life.” Still shaking, he closed his eyes and swallowed. “Never have I even dreamed of seeing such a thing as happened today.” He made fists on his knees, his body rigid with fear. “Never have I beheld such a terrifying God as this!”
“And the men who serve this God have promised to spare us.” Setting the bowl aside, Rahab put her hands over his, gripping them tightly. “Remember the crimson cord that hangs out of my window. When the day of destruction comes, we will not perish.”
* * *
The multitude stood on the west bank in Gilgal, east of Jericho, and watched as each of the twelve tribal representatives shouldered the largest stone he could carry and brought it into the midst of the camp. There the stones were set upright in a line, side by side, as a memorial of what God had done that day. Joshua took twelve men back down into the dry riverbed, where they piled up twelve more stones to remember the place where the Lord had brought them across the Jordan.
When the priests carried the Ark of the Covenant forward out of the dry riverbed, the sound of many waters came rushing. The river rumbled, racing down the riverbed from north and south, smashing together over the twelve stones. Once again, the Jordan overflowed its banks.
Joining thousands of others, Salmon cried out with joy as the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord came into the camp called Gilgal. The multitude raised their hands and voices in worship to the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who had brought them into the Promised Land.
* * *
Inside the walls of Jericho, the people waited, paralyzed with fear. Those who hadn’t been able to get inside the city before the gates were shut and the beams rammed into place had fled over the mountain road to find protection among the kingdoms in the hill country. Some would go as far as the Mediterranean. And everywhere they traveled, they spread the news: The God of Israel dried up the Jordan River so the Hebrews could cross over!
The Israelites are in Canaan!
FIVE
Caleb gathered all the men and boys of Judah. “We have entered Canaan on the day of preparations for Passover, and Joshua has received these instructions from the Lord: the entire male population of Israel must be circumcised.”
All those present knew that their fathers, who had been circumcised upon leaving Egypt, had lived under God’s wrath because they continued to think and act like slaves rather than as free men chosen to be a holy nation. Thus, the fallen generation had not been allowed to circumcise their sons. But now the promise was about to be fulfilled. The hand of God would bring the seed of Israel safely into the land of Canaan. But before that could happen, God wanted His people to become a circumcised nation once again.
Salmon stood waiting among thousands of his brethren. There were males of all ages, from babes in arms to men ten years older than his twenty-six years. To keep himself from thinking about the knife, he looked at the walls of Jericho. Would it matter if the enemy knew he and all the rest of the warriors would be incapacitated for a few days? They would be vulnerable and easily defeated, just as the Shechemites had been four centuries ago when Jacob’s sons took vengeance over the rape of their sister. Yet Salmon felt no fear. God had performed a miracle before Jerichoan eyes. They wouldn’t dare open the gates and come out against Him. No, they would stay tightly holed up in their walled city. They were paralyzed with fear. The enemy would watch as Israel was circumcised. Let them watch, tremble, and do nothing. Passover was coming, and all Israel would remember the night the angel of death had passed over the Hebrew slaves who’d painted their door lintels with the lamb’s blood, moving on to strike down all the firstborn of Egypt.
A boy cried out in pain. Salmon winced in sympathy. Six men went ahead of him before it was his turn.
“Salmon,” Caleb said solemnly as he approached. After performing the rite, Caleb blessed him. “Just as you have entered into the covenant, so may you enter into marriage and good deeds.”
“May the Lord make me His servant!” Salmon steadied himself before standing. For one second, he was sure he would faint and humiliate himself, but the light-headed sensation passed quickly. He returned to his tent and knelt on his mat. Bowing his head to the ground, he thanked God that he was one of His chosen people.
By the end of the day, he lay upon his mat, every movement causing pain. Every male had been circumcised. The Israelites were now freeborn children of God, no longer tainted by the idolatry of Egypt.
The covenant had been renewed.
* * *
“Give me that!” Rahab yanked a
clay idol from her sister’s hand and marched to the window.
“What are you doing?” Hagri cried out, getting up and racing after Rahab. “No!”
“What do you mean by bringing this wretched thing into my house?” Rahab hurled the false god out the window and watched it explode into pieces on the rocky ground below.
Hagri blanched. “The gods will avenge your disrespect!”
“If that thing held any power, would it have let me toss it out the window? Use the head you were born with, Hagri. Do you think that idol can bring us harm? It’s nothing but clay. There is only one God, and He is the God of heaven and earth. He’s the God who rolled back the Jordan a few days ago! Have you forgotten so quickly? Bow down to Him!”
Her father and mother and sisters and brothers and their children were all staring at her in frightened confusion. She was so angry she was shaking, but shouting at them wasn’t going to make them understand. Why were they so stiff-necked and foolish? Why were they so stubborn?
She strove to speak calmly. “Our only hope is in the God of the Hebrews. We must get rid of everything that insults Him. Have you any other idols hidden among your possessions?” When they just stared at her and said nothing, she almost erupted in fury. “Spread out your things! Let me see what abominations you’ve brought into my house!”
Grudgingly, they began spreading out their possessions a few at a time. Vaheb, Hagri’s husband, set out a clay-filled skull with shell eyes. “My father,” he said when Rahab looked at it. “He was a wise man.”
“Wise and dead.”
“Our ancestors advise us!”
“To do what? Become like them? Do you think that skull filled with dirt can tell you the way to escape the coming judgment? Get rid of it!”