Daughter of Deliverance (23 page)

“But I cannot help but feel sorry for those who died.”

“I feel that too, Rahab,” Phinehas said.

“Doesn't God care about the Canaanites?”

Phinehas' face grew sober, and he stroked his beard. “I think He cares for all people.”

“I never heard of Jehovah, and I don't think anyone else ever did among my people.”

“I can't answer your question, Rahab. In my own heart I have settled it that God speaks to every man. To every idolater there comes some moment in his life—or in her life—when God makes himself known. It may not be a very dramatic moment, but I believe it to be true. I have told you the story of Noah and the flood that covered the earth?”

“Yes, I remember it well.”

“I do not have the word of God on this for God has not revealed it, but I think there may well have been many on the earth who were righteous people. Surely Noah, his wife, and his sons and their wives were righteous, but the people were spread out over all the earth. I cannot help but believe that there were some in that day who were in far-off lands who were also believers in God, even though they did not know His name was Jehovah. And I have come to think that if they did believe, even though they may have drowned in the flood, God has not forsaken them. For all who believed, their souls are with the great Jehovah.”

“May I ask you something about myself?”

“Of course. What is it, Rahab?”

“You know about my life. I told you how I was forced into prostitution, but still it was a sin. I was a sinful woman. I can never get that out of my mind.”

“You have seen the sacrifices that we make on the brazen altar outside the tent of meetings?”

“Yes. I don't quite understand it, though.”

“You have seen us kill an innocent lamb, then sprinkle the blood on the altar.”

“Yes. What does it mean, master?”

“I am not at all sure that I understand it. But somehow that innocent lamb means something to Jehovah. The blood of a lamb could never take away sins, but God has spoken to me and there have been prophets such as Moses that have said that one day there will come the great Messiah.”

“The Messiah. What is that?”

“He is the Redeemer Bezalel spoke of, the one who will come and who will deliver all people from their sin. I do not know when He will come or what He will be like, but every time I sacrifice a lamb, I pray, ‘Let the real lamb of God come soon.'”

“And what can I do about my sin?”

“You have done it, my daughter,” Phinehas said kindly. “You have come to the God of Israel. You have bowed yourself and confessed your sin. God has forgiven you.”

A great joy rose up in Rahab at that moment. She did not know how it was, but the doubts and the fears and the guilt that had enveloped her were suddenly gone. “I believe you,” she cried with a glad joy. “He is the God of forgiveness!”

“Yes. And He never comes again after you're forgiven to remind you of the past. You are as pure as any woman in Israel.”

The words sank down in Rahab, and she began to weep. “Thank you, master,” she cried.

“It is not me you should thank but God, who has made a way for His people to be free from sins.”

****

Everyone noticed the difference in Rahab. She was entirely changed and went about singing, filled with joy. The burden of her sins in Jericho had bowed her down, but now she stood straight and tall, and her dark eyes glowed with a fierce joy. The praise of Jehovah was on her lips constantly so that many were made to ask, “What has happened to Rahab?” Those bold enough to ask her got the same answer. “I am happy because I serve the great God Jehovah, the God of Israel, who forgives sins.”

It was three weeks after this new joy came into Rahab's life that she was on her way back to her tent. She had been out gathering berries and now carried a basket almost full. She had learned to use the berries of the desert for cooking, and she was mentally planning the meal she would fix when suddenly a man stepped in front of her. It was in an isolated place and shielded from the camp by underbrush that rose sometimes as high as five feet.

“Rahab,” the man said. He blocked her way, and she stopped for a moment and waited for him to speak again.

“My name is Jehu.”

Suddenly Rahab remembered the man. She had seen him a few times, and someone had told her that he was a very wealthy man who owned immense herds and flocks. He was tall and lean as a skeleton. His full beard was shot with gray, and he had small eyes that seemed too close together. When he smiled he exposed yellow teeth, several of them missing. “I greet you, Rahab of Jericho.”

Rahab was on her guard. She was alone and this was a man. Her past had been enough to tell her that she must be careful. “Good afternoon, sir. I must hurry back.”

Rahab would have gone on, but Jehu reached out and took her arm. “Just a moment. I would like to talk with you.”

“Let me go, sir.”

Jehu laughed. “You need not be shy with me. Everyone knows your past. It is not as though you are a pure maiden.”

At that instant Rahab remembered the words of Phinehas.
“You're as pure as any maiden in Israel.”
She tried to pull her arm away, but Jehu's strength was greater than would seem possible in such a thin man. “Listen to me, woman. I know you're a harlot. I have money. Come and lie with me. I will pay you well.”

“No. I will do no such thing. My past is gone. I am now a worshiper of Jehovah.”

Jehu sneered. “Don't be ridiculous. You're not even a Hebrew. How could you be a worshiper of Jehovah?”

“Jehovah loves all people.”

But Jehu did not come to talk about Jehovah. His eyes were glittering with lust, and he reached out and tried to embrace her. Rahab dropped the basket and pushed him away. She was a strong young woman, and Jehu went reeling backward.

“Leave me alone!” she cried. She snatched up the basket and, turning quickly, made for camp.

“I will have you, woman!” Jehu screamed after her, his face red with lust and anger. “You may be sure of that! I will have you!”

Rahab was breathing hard, not from effort nor from fear. She had turned her back on her old life, but now she thought of the man with loathing—not his advances, for she could fight him off, but that he would disturb her life in Israel.

When she reached the camp, she found Ardon standing beside some food he had brought and given to her brother-in-law Kadir. Kadir turned to her and, seeing something in her face, asked, “What is it? Is something wrong, Rahab?”

“No, not at all. I've been out picking berries. I suppose I may have gotten too warm.” She walked by the two men and sat down to sort out the berries.

For a time the two men spoke briefly; then she was aware that Ardon had come to stand beside her. “You do look troubled,” he said. “What is it?”

Rahab looked up, surprised that Ardon would comment on such a thing. He never seemed to care one way or another about her, and now she hesitated. “It was nothing really.”

“Must be something. I've never seen you this upset before.” He moved to get a better look at her face, and his eyes narrowed. “Something's wrong. Are you sick?”

“No. It's…well, I just had an unpleasant meeting.”

“Unpleasant how?”

“It was a…a man. He troubled me.”

Ardon studied her carefully. “I've noticed that men are drawn to you, Rahab.”

“Let them leave me alone.”

“You're a beautiful woman. They can't.”

It was the first compliment of any sort Ardon had ever paid to her, and it brought a flush to Rahab's face. “I don't want anything like that in my life, Ardon.”

“Who was it?”

Before Rahab could think, she had called out the man's name. “It was the man called Jehu.”

“Jehu! Why, he's a member of the council.”

“I don't know anything about him, but I want him to leave me alone.”

Ardon was staring at her. “He's a prominent man in Israel. He wouldn't do such a thing—unless he were enticed.”

Rahab jumped to her feet and threw her head back, her eyes flashing. “You think I enticed him?”

“It wouldn't be the first time, would it?”

“Yes.”

“You never enticed men when you lived in Jericho?”

“No. I hated what I was doing.”

“Why did you do it, then?”

“Because I was forced to.”

“No one can force a woman to be a harlot.”

“You don't know much of anything, Ardon. My family was going to be sold into slavery. My little sister, my father, if I didn't give in to the man who had trapped us. Should I have let them die?”

Ardon was shocked at the woman's anger. He had long known that there was a fire in this woman, and once he had thought that she was the kind of woman who could, if she had to, stab a man through the heart and then go about her business. He studied her now with fresh interest. “You're never going to be happy here. You'd be better off with your own people.”

“My people are all dead except for my family. Would you have me go back to the ashes of Jericho?”

Ardon felt he had gotten in over his head. “I think you were mistaken about Jehu.”

“No, I wasn't mistaken. He made no secret of what he wanted. He said he would have me no matter what I did.”

Ardon was at a loss for words. He had a respect for the hierarchy of the tribe and a suspicion of this woman. “I think you'd better stay close in, always be with somebody. Men are drawn to you. Sooner or later you're going to give in to them,” he said bluntly.

“You don't ever forgive or forget, do you, Ardon?” she said.

“As I said, you'd be happier in another place. I can take you to any village you say so you can be with your own people.”

Rahab faced him squarely, her lips firm. “These are my people,” she said. “I am a daughter of Israel no matter what you think, Ardon!”

****

Later that day her father came to her and said, “I hear Jehu is interested in you.”

“Who told you that?”

“He did. He admires you. He might make a good husband. He's rich.”

“He's not looking for a wife. He's looking for a loose woman, and I'm not that anymore.”

Romar overheard the conversation and approached her father. She grasped his garment and shook him like a child. “Shut your mouth, old man! You were the reason for what happened to Rahab. I never want to hear you refer to it again.”

Makon had rarely been challenged by his own family. He opened his mouth to shout at Romar, but something in her face stopped him. He grumbled, “I didn't mean anything,” and fled at once.

Romar put her arm around Rahab. “You mustn't pay any attention to Father. He has no sense at all. He never did have.”

“No, he didn't.”

“Tell me about this man Jehu.” Romar listened as Rahab told of Jehu's assault.

And then Rahab spoke of Ardon's attitude. She finished her story saying, “He hates me.”

“But you don't hate him, do you?”

Startled, Rahab said, “I don't want to hate anyone.”

“I think you care for Ardon.”

Rahab was even more startled. “How could I?” she laughed shortly. “He despises me.”

“Put him out of your mind, then. I've seen you watch him,” Romar said. “He's not for you.”

“I know that,” Rahab said, then turned and walked away.

Compassion filled Romar's heart as she watched her sister. “She's headed for a bad time, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

Ariel stared at Ardon, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you telling me,” she said, “that Jehu tried to force himself on Rahab?”

“Yes. At least that's what she says,” Ardon said, troubled in spirit over the incident. He rubbed his chin and said doubtfully, “I don't know how much truth there is in it.”

“Well, personally I don't doubt it. That man has evil in his eyes.”

“You can't tell if a man's evil by his eyes.”

“Of course you can. The eyes are the mirror of the soul.”

Ardon laughed. “There's your romantic side, sister. You were always that way. What's in a man's heart is secret—in a woman's too, I suppose.”

Ariel doubled her fist and struck Ardon in the chest, not playfully but angrily. “I can't believe you would just decide that what Rahab says is a lie and everything that man Jehu says is the truth.”

“But he's a member of the council.”

“And all the council members are angels? I suppose they came straight down from heaven without a single sin among the lot of them!”

“Now, wait a minute—”

“No, you wait! You have a tendency, Ardon, to judge people too severely. From what I can tell, Rahab has behaved in a perfectly respectable way since she came from Jericho.”

“You can't change what you are, Ariel. She can never be innocent again.”

“Of course she can.”

“No, she can't,” Ardon said firmly. “No one can recapture innocence.”

“You don't know the history of our people very well, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Aaron—haven't you ever heard of the time when he made the golden calf?”

“Yes, of course, but that's different.”

“When Moses came down from the mountain,” Ariel said, her eyes narrowing, “and found that Aaron had helped our people become idolaters, Moses killed him right there, didn't he, because he could never be innocent again.”

“You know that's not the way it happened.”

“I know it, but I don't think you do. Aaron did a terrible thing, but he was still a man of God, and God honored him. God forgave him for his idolatrous act. If He can forgive Aaron, He can forgive Rahab.”

“I just don't believe that.” Ardon was no match for his sister in a debate. She had a quick, sharp mind and was able to look at all sides of a matter. He himself had a tendency to cling stubbornly to an idea. Finally he shrugged. “Aaron was a Hebrew.”