Numbers 36

This is the last chapter of Numbers. One more book to go to finish up the Pentateuch--the first five books of the Old Testament--which wraps up the story of Moses. I can't wait to find out if Moses defuses the bomb in time!

After all the mayhem and wars and stonings and assorted craziness that has occurred so far, Numbers closes both anticlimatically and typically with this question: is there another way that we can control our women? The answer, you'll be pleased to know, is an emphatic yes! 

The heads of the Gilead clan have a problem. They are related to Zelophehad, which means, as you may recall, that their land inheritance has been promised to Zelophehad's daughters. What's so wrong with that? Well, when a woman marries, her husband becomes the sole owner of everything she previously owned--including herself, one would presume. That means that, when the Year of the Jubilee arrives, the land owned by the Gildead tribe will become part of the husbands' tribes. Then the Gilead clan will have no more land! Given the way things are in the Middle East this is a very big deal.

Moses has a great idea: why not limit the daughters' marriage prospects to only men in the Gliead tribe? The New International Version of the Bible says it beautifully: "They may marry anyone they please as long as they marry within their father’s tribal clan." When you put it that way it almost sounds fair.

Zelophehad's daughters are cool with this idea--they have to be; what choice do they really have?--and decide to marry their father's cousins. No word on how closely the cousins are related, but something tells me it’s pretty close.

Next stop, Deuteronomy, which--spoiler alert!--transcribes three speeches given by Moses just before the Isrealites take possession of Canaan. Should be riveting.

Numbers 32, 33

Did you read my last entry, on Numbers 31? No? Please do, because in it Moses gives away 32,000 adult women and children to be raped. Go ahead and read it. It's a fascinating insight into the moral compass of one of the world’s most revered religious figures. I'll be here when you get back.

Shall we continue?

This current chapter is both convoluted and boring, so try not the fall asleep as we get lost in it.
 
The Reubenites and Gadites, two tribes with tons of stuff, notice that Jazer and Gilead were kind of sitting empty and they thought it would be a great place to settle down. Problem is, those lands are on the east side of the Jordan River, where the Israelites are currently camped, and not the west side of the Jordan River, where the Israelites must go to get to the Promised Land. In other words, the Reubenites and Gadites want to stay while everyone else moves on. Instead of getting all “Doomsday Preppers” on Moses, they simply ask the old man if they could maybe possibly stay here if it’s not too much trouble or anything.

But Moses ain't having it. He tells a rambling story about the last time a group of idiots wanted to stay in some lush land with plenty of food and water and didn’t want to tramp through the desert to fight armies that lived on the lush land with plenty of food and water that God had promised the Israelites.

Moses accuses the men of being just like those guys, who God thought were chickening out of a good fight, because—lo and behold—as soon as the Israelites cross the Jordan they are going to attack the Canaanites. “Really?” say the Reubenites and Gadites. “We had no idea that we might die in another stupid war when we decided we’d rather live in this paradise.”

 So the Reubenites and Gadites make Moses a deal: They'll stay here on the east side of the Jordan and build a nice home for themselves but they'll also arm themselves to the teeth and fight alongside everyone else going to the Promised Land. Then, when the fighting's over and the Israelites are safely tucked into bed, they'll return to the east side. That is if they’re still alive.

Moses agrees, with one stipulation: that if the Reubenites and Gadites don't live up to their agreement to fight the Canaanites then they will be totally fucked over for all eternity.

The Reubenites and Gadites swallow hard and agree. After all, what could go wrong?

 Then the narrative is interrupted in favor of a list of hostels the Israelites stayed in up to this point. I suppose it's the equivalent of fondly reading all the postcards you sent your parents during that summer you backpacked across Europe. "Remember that couple in Benelux who let us stay in their guest cottage for two days until mom wired me that money? Oh look, and here's the postcard I sent of the Arc de Triomphe after I got tossed out of the Louvre for throwing up near the Mona Lisa."

It's a long list; read it for yourself (Numbers 33:3-49). One interesting tidbit that comes up: Aaron was 123 years old when he died. I guess desert living agreed with him. Miriam’s age is not mentioned.

After the travelogue, God prepares Moses for the final push into Canaan. First on the agenda, destroying everything in Canaan. Moses must drive out the inhabitants, smash their graven images, melt down their metal objects, and divide the land among the tribes of Israel. And if the Israelites fail to push the inhabitants out of Canaan? "Then it shall come to pass that those which ye let remain of them shall be pricks in your eyes and thorns in your sides, and shall vex you in the land wherein you dwell," God promises.

I'm impressed. This might be the only true prophecy in the entire Bible. Something tells me though that this approach makes for very bad foreign policy.

But God's not done yet. He has one more punishment for the Israelites if they fail to drive out the Canaanites: "Moreover it shall come to pass that I shall do unto you as I thought to do unto them."

Now that is legitimately frightening.

Numbers 21, 22

Moses, flying solo, ignores the Canaanite King's warning not to set foot on his land. Traveling on the road through Canaan, the Israelites are attacked and some are taken prisoner. Moses makes a plea to the Lord: "If thou wilt indeed deliver this people into my hand, then I will utterly destroy their cities. Also, some food would be nice."

God ignores the second request but fulfills the first, and the Israelites are victorious. They rename the place Hormah because they couldn't think of anything else.

And now it's Groundhog Day: the Israelites complain about being in the wilderness with no food or water and why did the Lord lead us out of Egypt just to die in the desert? (Shorthand from now on: TICABITWWNFOWAWDTLLUOOEJTDITD?) The Lord, ever creative in the punishment department, sends venomous snakes to bite His people, which you have to admit is a pretty cool and random punishment. Many people die. No surprise there.

After Moses prays, God releases He may have been a little hasty. But instead of simply curing everyone with a snap of--let's call them His "fingers"--God instructs Moses to make a snake out of bronze and stick it on the end of a pole. Anyone still suffering from snake bite-itis can be instantly cured by looking at the bronze snake on the pole. If you think about it, that's really the best fix for the problem.

The Israelites trudge on until they come to the land of the Armortites. They give King Sihon the same deal they gave to the Canaanite king: let us pass through your land and we'll make restitution for anything we eat, drink, or despoil on the way. Sihon refuses, so Mo and Co take over the land and settle there for a while. Drunk on his newfound military might, Moses leads the Israelites in battle against Og, king of Bashun. In Bashun, Moses just kills everyone and settles there for a while.

All of this conquering makes me wonder why the Israelites need to find the Promised Land in the first place if they have no trouble taking over existing cities, cities that no doubt have an abundance of food, water, and shelter. Why not just live in any of these places, especially after killing everyone who lived there. Kind of a waste to kill everyone in a city and just move on, isn't it?

And yet the Israelites move on, to Moab. As you can imagine, the Moabites are shitting their pants at the sight of all those Israelites near their border. Balak, son of the Moab king, Zippor, asks the elders of Moab and Midian to curse the Israelites, ensuring that the Moabites will win in battle. Balak pays the elders for their cursing spells.

The elders meet with someone named Balaam, who, I don't know why, can also talk to the Lord. Why haven’t we heard about him yet? Balaam, who obviously hasn’t been reading along, asks God to curse the Israelites. God, of course, refuses, and instructs Balaam not to return to Moab with the elders. Balak isn't happy about that: he promises Balaam riches if he returns to Moab. Balaam confers again with God, Who finally tells him to return to Moab. "Go with them," God says. "But yet the word which I shall say unto thee, thou shalt do. Be prepared, though. It's about to get weird."

As instructed by God, Balaam saddles up his donkey and departs for Moab. For some schizophrenic reason, God is angry about this, even though Balaam is doing exactly what He told him to do. God sends an angel with a sword to block Balaam's path. Funny thing is, only the donkey can see the angel. Hilarious, right?

The heavenly visage spooks the donkey so bad that it runs into a field. Balaam, thinking the donkey is just being a stubborn donkey, beats the animal with a stick until it returns to the road.

The swordy angel herds the donkey onto a narrow road with walls on both sides. This also freaks out the donkey; it makes a beeline for the wall, inadvertently crushing Balaam's foot. Pissed, Balaam beats the donkey again. The angel then directs the donkey onto an even narrower path that leaves no room to turn left or right. The scaredy donkey lies down in the road. Out of ideas, Balaam beats it again.

The angel, who one would assume could do pretty much anything, gives the donkey the power of speech. That's right: now we have a talking donkey.

"What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times?" the donkey asks. "Besides, you know, the shit I just did."

Balaam, totally unfazed by a talking donkey, answers that he thinks the donkey is mocking him by refusing to obey. "I would that there were a sword in my hand, for now would I kill thee."

The angel, having heard enough, decides to reveal itself. Balaam, horrified, prostrates himself before the apparition. "Wherefore hast thou smitten thine ass three times?" the angel wants to know.

First a talking donkey, now an angel with a sword? Balaam thinks he is having one hell of a flashback. But the angel doesn’t really care about the abused donkey; he’s there to remind Balaam that he must say only what God tells him to say.

"Got it," Balaam says. "Now can you make this donkey be quiet?"

When Balaam arrives in Moab, Balak wants to know why he didn't come sooner. You'd think Balaam wouldn't say anything, considering what the angel just told him, but he answers anyway: "Lo, I am come unto thee: have I now any power to say any thing? The word that God putteth in my mouth, that shall I speak. But you're married, so you know what that's like. Women. Am I right fellas?"

Balak offers Balaam oxen and sheep because he doesn't have any decent gifts to give, and the next days they climb a mountain to view the assembling Israelite army. I’m on the edge of my seat here.