Thomas Greanias - The Promised War

And on top of that mercy seat, according to Jewish tradition, sat the invisible presence of Yahweh.

"Inside this Ark are the tablets Moses smashed, the manna from heaven and the rod of Aaron with a flower bud," Elezar told him reverentially. "They represent the presence of God, the provision of God and the resurrection power of God."

But all Deker could think of was the shittim wood beneath the gold of the Ark, and that only made his mind go back to the death grove at Camp Shittim. Had that same horror been repeated here? Where were the soldiers?

He looked around and saw no bodies hanging from trees. But he saw no troops either. Only some commotion farther inside the camp that demanded attention.

Beyond the Ark stood the priest Phineas, recounting the crossing of the Jordan to several thousand children spread out as far as Deker's eyes could see, all the way to the mysterious, natural-gas-like bursts of fire at the south end of the camp.

"So when the people broke camp to cross the Jordan, the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant went ahead of them!" Phineas cried out. "Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest. Yet, as soon as the priests who carried the Ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water's edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. It piled up in a heap a great distance away, at a town called Adam in the vicinity of Zarethan, while the water flowing down was completely cut off. So the priests who carried the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord stopped in the middle of the Jordan and stood on dry ground, while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing on dry ground."

Something like that, Deker thought, and wondered to what extent Phineas' revisionist history was what Salmon and Achan had heard as children about the parting of the Red Sea. Even the fate of the dolmen stones now under the Ark, which earlier had formed the stone bridge across the Jordan, got a poetic

rendition.

"So the Israelites did as Joshua commanded them. They took twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, according to the number of the tribes of the Israelites, as the Lord had told Joshua; and they carried them over with them to their camp, where they put them down. In the future, when your children ask you, 'What do these stones mean?' tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever."

The altar of dolmen stones holding up the Ark was assembled like a ziggurat and stood about four meters tall-six dolmens across the bottom, four across the middle and two across the top. The altar was a stone monument unto itself, which was probably the intent as soon as the Ark was lifted up and out by the Levites to carry before the armies of Israel.

Deker looked at the dolmen stones and realized it must have taken a company of men from each tribe to haul each one out of the river and drag it to this place.

But it was all part of the show, and Deker could see Elezar take a seat on the ground in front of a couple of small children and nod his approval to an appreciative Phineas.

As he stared at the remarkable scene, he sensed somebody standing next to him. It was Salmon, who had gone from sullen to exultant.

"Bin-Nun has done it!" he said.

"Done what, Salmon?"

"Honored Yahweh by bringing us here forty years to the day of the Passover in Egypt before the Exodus. Tonight we celebrate the Passover in the Promised Land!"

"That was the hurry to cross the Jordan at flood stage?" Deker asked. "He wanted to hit a date?"

"This is his sign from Yahweh," Salmon said. "Don't you see? All of this is the sign the people needed to see."

"What sign do you see, Salmon? I see no sign."

"The holiness of Yahweh is before your eyes in the Ark."

Deker thought back again to his bar mitzvah, and the symbol of the Ark and how he had dropped the Torah. "You mean the 613 laws and purification rituals to show how ungodly we

mortals are."

Salmon looked at him curiously. "The Torah and Law of Moses do not promise salvation, because keeping them all is impossible. The Law reflects the holiness of Yahweh, to show us our dependence on Yahweh's grace like Abraham. Without the Law we would know neither justice nor mercy."

Salmon sounded like Rahab up on her terrace in Jericho. True believers in a world ruled by those who seemed to make up the rules to suit themselves. It was beginning to make sense to Deker now, this notion that the fledgling nation of Israel existed to bear witness to the Law in a lawless world. But not this idea of faith in Yahweh's mercy. Thus far he had seen little of that from Bin-Nun.

"Bin-Nun has depended on nothing but me so far, Salmon. Phineas too."

"You will tonight," Salmon promised. "All the troops will."

"That's the problem, Salmon. I don't see any troops. Where are they?"

"Healing."

"Healing? From what?"

"Come with me and I'll show you."

Deker followed Salmon to the Tent of Meeting, where a line of Gadites snaked outside with Achan at the end. Salmon and Deker walked past them inside the tent where Deker saw General Bin-Nun in the front with a priest beside him at the altar. The troops were lined up as though they were about to receive Communion, but it was no cup that Bin-Nun held in his hand.

"It's a flint knife," Salmon explained from the back corner of the tent where they stood.

"I see the knife, Salmon. Who is the priest?"

"Phineas' father, Eleazer. His name is almost the same as the good angel."

The good angel.

Deker watched as a soldier dropped his field kilt and knelt before Bin-Nun, his back toward the line, and looked up at his leader. Bin-Nun fixed his gaze on his soldier and brought down his knife. Deker himself tensed at the sound of the blade scraping the stone. There was a pause, and then Bin-Nun used his blade to flick a piece of foreskin to a pile at the end of the altar.

"Holy God," he said under his breath. "He's circumcising them, Salmon. But why? They're adults."

"Our fathers who came out of Egypt were circumcised, but we who were born in the wilderness were not," Salmon explained. "Today Yahweh has rolled away the reproach of Egypt from us. The sons of Israel can finally take the place of their fathers. That is why General Bin-Nun is calling this place Gilgal."

A hot fury quickly succeeded Deker's revulsion. His efforts to save Bin-Nun's army when they were most vulnerable, crossing the Jordan in a single day, were all for naught. This stupid mutilation of the troops would set back the attack on Jericho by days if not weeks. Rahab would remain at risk, and Hamas would have an incalculable reprieve to regroup and draw help from neighboring cities. Worse, it left the Israelite troops at less than half strength. Hamas could attack them at any moment.

"This is insane," he said, trying to keep his voice low, but aware that his raspy words and snarling tone had turned several soldiers' heads. "You can't sack a city after you chop off the tips of your men's dicks."

Salmon moved closer to Deker, trying to shield his anger from the others. His eyes were still bright with hope, his voice imploring. "But this is the sign of faith in Yahweh from Bin-Nun we've been looking for," Salmon said. "Don't you see? Bin-Nun has surrendered his war plans to Yahweh and seeks a new directive. Yahweh will lead the way in battle now. Bin-Nun is announcing it was Yahweh and not Moses who led us through the desert for forty years to test our hearts. And it will be by the hand of Yahweh and not the edges of our swords that we take the Promised Land."

Deker asked, "How long will the healing take?"