Moses Part 24 (Numbers 12)

        There really is no introduction to the story of Numbers 12. We jump right in and read that Moses and Aaron are speaking out against Moses because of his Cushite wife (Zipporah). Hold on, what’s going on here?
        First, Zipporah, as we know, was not a Cushite. Cush was a land to the south of Egypt in present-day Ethiopia. Zipporah was a Midianite, who were a people who lived along the east coast of modern-day Saudi Arabia and the Arabian peninsula.
        Cush and Egypt had a sort of rivalry going on where Egypt would try to dominate Cush and Cush would try to dominate Egypt. As a result of this, Egyptians tended to look down on Cushites as second-class people (to be honest, they tended to look down on everyone as second-class). Living in Egypt for so long, no doubt the Israelites adapted some of these racist tendencies despite the fact that they were looked down on as worse than second-class, being slaves and shepherds.
        So in this case “Cushite” was more of a racial epitaph rather than a remark on her origin or race, like calling someone the “n” word. As a Midianite Zipporah was darker skinned than the rest of the Hebrews and of course, she wasn’t Israelite. Therefore, in Miriam and Aaron’s eyes, she wasn’t worthy of being married to their esteemed brother. And so, they started slinging insults at her and, indirectly, at Moses.
        At first we read this and are repulsed by this kind of racism from supposed spiritual leaders. To be fair, this does seem out of character for two people who were held in such high regard by the people and even by Yahveh. After all, Aaron and Moses had formed a pretty epic team before Pharaoh and Aaron had been made the High Priest, a function he performed admirably in, Golden Calf notwithstanding. Miriam had watched over Moses’s basket as a baby and had been recognized as a prophetess by the people. So is this dislike for Zipporah all that is going on or is there something more?
        The next verse is rather revealing. “Has the LORD indeed spoken only through Moses?” they asked rhetorically. “Has he not spoke through us also?”
        Ah, now we get to the real issue. They were jealous. But jealous of what? Of Moses? Up to this point, they’d been quite content to let Moses take the burden of leadership and with it all the grief and glory. So what’s changed?
       The appointment of the elders, of course. It would seem that they had not been consulted in this (remember it was a conversation between Yahveh and Moses) and now they felt that their prestige was being encroached on by these upstarts in the community.
       But why bring Zipporah into all of this? Aside from her not being an Israelite (the racial thing was very real), what was their beef with her? She was a follower of Yahveh and from what we know from the Bible and Ellen White, an all-around good egg, as they said back in the day.
       Remember how this whole elder/judge thing got started back in the day? It was when Jethro brought Zipporah and the kids to join Moses near Sinai. When Jethro visited, he advised his son-in-law to divide up the work load to give himself some breathing room before he ran himself into the ground. Of course Moses listened because, well, it made sense.
        But Miriam and Aaron perceived it as a slight that Moses would so readily listen to a foreigner compared to them, never mind the fact that what Jethro said made perfect sense. Plus, the elevation of people in the camp made them feel like their prestige was being threatened.
       Then the appointing and prophesying of the 70 elders happened, which made the feel even more devalued. This reminded them of Jethro and when they saw how Moses would confide and take refuge in Zipporah (because she’s his wife, duh), feelings of bitterness and resentment welled up and they took it out, unfairly, on her.
        Now it should be pointed out that, despite the fact that I’ve highlighted the rather unsavory stories relating to Aaron and Miriam, they weren’t bad people. Quite the opposite, in fact. Both of them stand as giants of faith and devotion to Yahveh who gave him their lives in service to him and his people.
        And that is part of the point. Even the most noble and devoted people to Yahveh can slip. At the end of the day, we are still flawed humans and we will make mistakes. Moses made his share and we haven’t gotten to his biggest screw up.
        But that’s also the irony of this whole thing. They had no reason to be jealous. Miriam and Aaron had no reason to be jealous. Both were held in the highest esteem in the camp, second only to Moses himself. They were prophets and leaders, individuals whom the people admire, respected, and listened too. And not just because they were Moses’s siblings either, but on their own merits. Miriam was a prophetess and Aaron was the High Priests, positions chosen by Yahveh because of who they were, not because they were related to Moses.
        Yet with all of that, they still felt underappreciated and undervalued by Moses, who relied on them more than anyone else in the camp save perhaps Joshua. It’s kind of ironic given that Moses felt he had too much value and appreciation (Israelite version of appreciation seemed to be incessant complaining).
        Moses response is interesting. The Bible says that he was the meekest or humble person in all the earth, which is weird considering Moses wrote that. Of course it sounds weird because we don’t really understand what “meek” really means.
       Most of us think of meek in terms of self-deprecation. “Oh, I’m really not good at that,” or “I didn’t do a very good job,” or “It’s not a big deal.”
      This is not humility; this is being obnoxious because often when people say this, they really are good at that or they really did do a good job or it really is a big deal. They come across as fake and annoying.
       Rather humility is knowing who you are and who you aren’t. You freely admit your faults and your strengths. You know what you’re good at and what you’re not good at and are content with it (funny how so many things go back to being content). Being humble is about being content in your own skin.
       When you’re content in your own skin, you can look outside yourself. You can worry more about others and less about yourself. As C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, “A humble man won’t think himself humble because he won’t think about himself at all.” This is because you are at peace with yourself and therefore have no reason to concern yourself with yourself.
        As a result of all this, Moses did nothing. He didn’t need to. While I’m certain his siblings attacking him publicly stung a little, he knew who he was and what he was doing and that was enough. That said, I would like to have seen him come to the defense of his wife but that is another topic for another day.
       Yahveh, on the other hand, was significantly less than pleased. He calls all three of them to the Tabernacle and lays into Miriam and Aaron. “Here my words: If there is a prophet among you, I the LORD make myself known to him in a vision; I speak with him in a dream. Not so with my servant Moses. He is faithful in all my house. With him I speak mouth to mouth, clearly, and not in riddles, and he beholds the form of the LORD. Why then were you not afraid to speak out against my servant Moses?”
         Oh snap.
        Aaron and Miriam, Yahveh acknowledges, are prophets. But Moses is something more than just a prophet. He has a connection with Yahveh that is deeper and more profound than a prophet that has receives communication through visions and dreams; Moses gets his directly from Yahveh himself. With other prophets, Yahveh has a working relationship with them: he gives them a message and they relay it to the people. But with Moses, he has a real, deep friendship. They confide and complain and even encourage each other (it’s weird to think of someone encouraging Yahveh but that is what Moses had done, in a way). And this is the guy that Miriam and Aaron decided to publicly call out.
        Yeah, probably shouldn’t have done that.
        Miriam, who was the instigator in all of this, was immediately struck with leprosy. Aaron probably would’ve too, but he got the point and both of them realized that they had made a serious error and repented. Again, Aaron and Miriam weren’t bad people, at least as far as humans go; they simply made a mistake, albeit a big one. But once Yahveh laid down the law, they got the message and moved on.
         Yahveh did end up clearing up Miriam’s leprosy, but she had to stay outside the camp for 7 days. And in deference (and probably to drive home the point that her jealousy was completely unfounded) to her place in the camp, they stayed in the same place until she was allowed to come back.
         At the end of the day, it comes down to the fact that Miriam and Aaron forgot their role. They were pivotal, crucial parts of the community but still they were supporting characters to Moses. Their role was to support him in serving the people. It wasn’t about them; it wasn’t really about Moses for that matter. Yet they lost sight of their place and role and thus became jealous.
       The essence of humility is knowing who you are, what your role is, and being content. Not all of us are destined for the spotlight and those that are often have the heaviest burden of all. For some, the role that Yahveh has for them is a background, support role. If that is you, embrace it and accept it.
        The point is that it isn’t about you. It’s about everyone else around; serving them, helping them, and being there for them. You become comfortable in your own skin and then cease to care about you. You just aren’t important to you; Yahveh is; others are.
        That was Moses. When Yahveh was slighted, he burned with anger. He volunteered himself for eternal damnation to save the Israelites. But when it came to him? Meh. Not a big deal. He had more important things to worry about than what people were saying about him.
        That is the essence of humility. To use an analogy from C. S. Lewis and the Screwtape Letters, “God wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. God wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favor that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbor's talents—or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognize all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things. He wants to kill their animal self-love as soon as possible; but it is His long-term policy, I fear, to restore to them a new kind of self-love—a charity and gratitude for all selves, including their own.” And that is what Miriam and Aaron lost sight of.
        The other point is that Yahveh has our backs. Moses had a special, unique relationship with Yahveh that is different than almost any other in the Bible (Abraham and Elijah come close). They were friends of the highest order, talking to each other face to face, confiding in each other, encouraging each other, and even on occasion arguing.
         Now don’t misunderstand, they were not even in the slightest equal. Yahveh was still the master and Moses was still very much the servant. But there was a friendship that crossed the master-servant line without changing the status. And if there is one thing about Yahveh, it is that he backs up his friends.
         Moses may not have felt the need to come to his own defense, but Yahveh did. Moses had gone out on a limb many times for Yahveh (most notably the Golden Calf) and now Yahveh was going to go out on a limb for his friend. And boy did he.
         Here’s the point: Yahveh backs up his friends. In this world, as Christians, we are going to have persecution. That is a given (Matthew 5:11, 12). But we can take it because we know that in the end, Yahveh has our backs. We know that one day soon he will return and to those who have persecuted us, he will ask, “Why were you not afraid?”

Moses Part 23 (Numbers 11b)

    As I stated in the last post, this one is going to be focusing on a different part of the same story, kind of what goes on in the middle. What we covered last time was Moses dealing with the Israelites complaints about not having any meat and how Yahveh answered their whining in a "be-careful-what-you-wish-for" way.

    During all this, Moses is having a meltdown of sorts and throws a tantrum, which can be read in verses 11-14. Basically, his point is "I am in way over my head here and need help."

    Now while Moses might go a bit far in saying that he'd rather have Yahveh just kill him on the spot if this is how life is going to go, Moses does have a bit of a point. He is taking care of thousands of people essentially by himself. Anyone who has ever been in a leadership role can attest to how frustrating and exhausting that can get, especially when the people in question are as whiny and petulant as the people of Israel (not trying to be a jerk, but let's be honest, they were).

    Yahveh, although not entirely appreciative of Moses's tone, acquiesces. "Gather for me seventy men of the elders of Israel, whom you know to be the elders of the people and officers or them, and bring them to the tent of meeting, and let them take their stand there with you. And I will come down and talk with you there. And I will take some of the Spirit that is on you and put it on them, and they shall bear the burden of the people with you."

    Before we go on, there a couple of questions I'm certain that you might have (I certainly do) that I'd like to address first. Foremost, didn't Moses already have help? I mean, didn't we already do this song and dance routine when Jethro visited? What was Aaron doing in all of this? Why are we going through this again?

    As for Aaron, we saw how well his leadership worked out with the Golden Calf (and, I suppose Nadab and Abihu, a story we didn't get into). In regards to the elders, yes and no. Yes in the sense that Moses already had people working under him as sort of local judges, dealing with the mundane, day-to-day issues of life in a massive, 40-year campmeeting.

    But that isn't what Moses is talking about here. He's talking about spiritual guidance and leadership, kind of like pastors. I mean, Moses is essentially pastoring a several hundred thousand member congregation all by his lonesome. Again, you might say, "What about the priests?" Fair question. A priest's function is different from what we are talking about. Priests act as mediators between man and Yahveh, specifically mediating the forgiveness of sin. They are busy offering sacrifices, the prayers of the people, and doing other such things in the Tabernacle.

    All that is well and good, but dealing a mob of people who want meat to eat isn't exactly in their job description. It is in Moses's. And this is where Moses has the issue. He needs a council of people to take care of the people's spiritual and physical needs on the mass scale, like this. He needs a council of people that will stand with him when the people start acting up again so that he has their strength to lean on.

    And so Yahveh tells him to find 70 elders, or leaders, of the people that he can trust and bring them to tent of meeting. There Yahveh pours out his Spirit on them and they begin prophesying. Moses has help.

    Now this is where the story takes in an interesting twist. You see, there weren't 70 elders in front of the tent of meeting; there were only 68. Two of them, guys by the names of Eldad and Medad (for future parents out there, great names right here) didn't show. The Bible doesn't specifically list the reason for them playing hokey, but Ellen White in Patriarchs and Prophets says that they didn't feel they were worthy of being chosen. I'll buy that. Not that it mattered in the end because worthy or not, they started prophesying too, which must have confused the willies out of their neighbors.

    Joshua, Moses's aide and eventual successor, flipped out at this. To him, Eldad and Medad's absence was a slight to Moses and he did not want them messing with his boss. So he asks Moses to stop them. Moses, with a smile on his face I imagine, turns back to Joshua and tells him to let them be, adding, "Would that all the LORD's people were prophets, that the LORD would put his Spirit on them!" That would certainly make his job a whale of a lot easier.

    This short story has many interesting facets that we could explore, but the one I want to focus on is the role we play in who Yahveh calls, which is to say none at all. Yahveh chooses who he chooses because he's Yahveh and he can. He neither needs nor wants any input from us; he will choose who he will choose whether we think them worthy or not.

    Just look through the Bible at Yahveh's choices, many of which seem strange. We know nothing of Abraham before he was chosen, but Yahveh chose him anyway. Perhaps the reason that Moses was so understanding of Eldad and Medad was because of his own experience, an exiled Egyptian prince living as a shepherd in the Midian wilderness. Not exactly someone I'd have at the top of my prospects list.

    Joseph was a slave. Deborah and Esther were women. David was a shepherd from the hillbilly tribe of Judah in the utterly forgettable town of Bethlehem. Elijah was basically a hobo. Jeremiah was a kid. Mary was an unwed teenager. Peter, Andrew, James, and John were uneducated (by Jewish standards) fishermen. Matthew was a tax collector. Simon was a militant Zealot. Cornelius was a Roman centurion. Saul/Paul was a lawyer, member of the Sanhedrin (elite ruling council), and a violent persecutor of Christians.

    Yet Yahveh called all of these people. The only common thread between all of them was that Yahveh called them. They weren't always the best or brightest or most influential. Yahveh didn't care about social norms and customs; he plays by his own set of rules, ones that we are to follow and yet are often strange to us.

    Even the Israelites themselves weren't chosen because of their own merit. They weren't the biggest or the most powerful or the nicest people; Yahveh chose them because, well, he did.

    We have zero role to play in this process. We are only told to accept his choices whether we like them or not because he is Yahveh and he makes the decisions.

    Think of it like a company: the boss is the one who makes decisions on who to hire and who not to hire. If you are not the boss, and in this scenario we aren't, once the decision is made, you have to accept it and live with it, like it or not because the boss is the boss and you are not the boss. Works the same way here.

    I bring this up because of the whole debate surrounding women's ordination, a topic I have thus far avoided. At its base foundation, ordination is the community of Yahveh acknowledging his call on someone's life. By denying ordination to any group of people, women in this case, we are essentially saying to Yahveh that he cannot call this person. Not only is this attitude incredibly arrogant, it's also stupid. I mean, try telling your boss whom he can and cannot hire.

    Yahveh calls who he calls and sometimes (often) that calling is not what we would expect or even do. But that isn't our call to make, is it? So when we someone who is called by Yahveh and we are tempted to think like Joshua, "We should put a stop to this," maybe we should rein ourselves in a bit and think instead like Moses, "Would that all of Yahveh's people were called like this."