Reading Plan
Be Still
Numbers 13:26–14:35
Israel hovers on the edge of the land long-promised to their ancestors at the beginning of Numbers 13. They struggled with their nomadic life after leaving Egypt—complaining about Yahweh’s provision at nearly every step (see Exodus 15:22–27; 16:1–8; 17:1–2; Numbers 11:1–6). He’s led them directly to the doorstep of Canaan, however, and all their worries about food will soon go away.
Over and over again, Yahweh has described the land of promise as flowing with “milk and honey.” The phrase is enshrined in Christian subculture and conjures up mental pictures of a Willy Wonka-esque territory of overflowing stickiness. The idiom in the original Hebrew is less fanciful though. The word we translate “honey” is probably better rendered “nectar,” helping the phrase focus on the fluids of fertility in the agricultural world: milk for animals and nectar for plants.
Regardless, the effect is inescapable. The land that Yahweh promised to the Israelites’ ancient father Abraham cannot contain its fertility. For a people who’ve withered under the enslaving hand of Pharaoh in Egypt and then had to content themselves with manna in the wilderness, the hope of eating something different that requires very little work to cultivate is fairly compelling.
Moses’s direction to the twelve selected spies points them into the hill country, though (Numbers 13:17). The hill country is the territory to the south and east of Canaan proper and even encompasses the land that was once Sodom and Gomorrah—a land so fertile the author of Genesis compares it to Eden itself (see Genesis 13:10).
But the hill country, for all its bounty, was also the habitation of an imposing group of people. The author of Numbers identifies several groups living in that land—all descendants of Anak, who was a descendant of the infamous Nephilim (Numbers 13:21–22, 33). It’s as if the author makes the cheeky implication that the promised land that overflows with fertility seems to have produced giant humans as well. Furthermore, the Nephilim in the minds of ancient Israel would have been more than human—powerful warriors no soldier in his right mind would take on willingly (see Genesis 6:1–4).
Ancient readers of the book would have held some sympathy for the spies who, after seeing the threat of fortified cities and giant defenders, would have thought the risk of taking the land of promise too great. Yes, the produce of the land exceeds expectations, but so do the peoples and walls guarding it. So, naturally, the difficulty of the challenge leads Israel to yet one more bout of complaining, where they decide to elect a different leader than Moses and return to Egypt. Only Joshua and Caleb argue otherwise, expressing utmost confidence in the strength of Yahweh to shatter the giants and their cities just like he did Pharaoh and the power of Egypt (Numbers 14:1–9).
In the words of the two faithful spies lies the crux of Yahweh’s entire relationship with the Hebrews up to this point: He has already demonstrated his strength in combatting both kings and armies, neatly destroying the full might of Egypt. He has also demonstrated his power to provide for the people in completely barren lands. But despite Yahweh’s consistent proving himself, the people simply don’t see him. They see the obstacles to their happiness and nothing more.
Once before, Moses had to contend with Yahweh for the sake of rebelling Israel (see Exodus 32–36). Once before, Yahweh had quieted his anger for the sake of his promise. But here again, at the doorstep of the land, Yahweh long ago gifted to Abraham, the descendants of Abraham test their God’s patience. And, just as he did on Sinai, Moses intervenes, reminding Yahweh of his promises to the people and the importance of maintaining his character before the watching nations. Once again, Yahweh relents.
But Yahweh doesn’t entirely let the rebelling people off the hook. He declares that the entire generation that saw his power and provision on display would not enjoy the land of promise. They had seen—with their own eyes—Yahweh’s ability to deliver on his promises, and they had rejected him anyway. Only the two men who expressed confidence in the character and power of their God would be the exception (Numbers 14:20–25).
The people who complained about manna and who were about to enjoy something different for a change now face a lifetime of munching on desert cakes.
In the end, the narrator of Numbers isn’t making a statement about the importance of not complaining about dinner but about the character of Israel’s God and the people’s response to him. Over and over, Yahweh demonstrated his power to protect and provide, and over and over, the people didn’t care. God’s kindness—demonstrated repeatedly—simply wasn’t enough. Yes, Yahweh asked a lot of his people; facing the giants of Hebron was, indeed, daunting. But he had already proven he could take on anything and anyone and win. The matter for Israel came down to a simple question: Will you trust me?
God has never stopped asking that question. It’s up to us to decide how we’ll answer.
By Jed Ostoich
