The Deliverer (26 page)
Why couldn’t I get over the need to impress him? I loathed him. I thought I was over caring what he thought about me. Why was I here again trying to get his approval? It was impossible. Why didn’t I just leave right then?
“Not exactly. I thought you might want to know that God has released another weapon into the arsenal of humanity for spiritual warfare.” I turned slightly as if intending to leave. “But if you’re not interested, I’ll just be going.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallowed hard and tried to sound foreboding. “He has released the spiritual gift of … encouragement.”
Satan stared hard at me for several seconds before slapping his knee and roaring into laughter. The guards also began their obligatory snickering of agreement whenever Satan saw anything funny.
“Encouragement?” He could barely get it out for his laughing. “God has released people to say sweet things to each other?” Snort, chuckle, and snicker. “You’re such an idiot.”
Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer,
my brain kept saying as my mouth opened and my tongue escaped.
“I’m not the idiot; you’re the … ” My brain forged ahead and caused my jaw to clamp down on my tongue before it could seal my absolute doom.
“I’m what?”
“You’re … ” My brain froze. I couldn’t think of a single thing. “You’re wise to see what’s behind God’s cunning.” My brain unfroze just in time.
“I am? Of course I am. I’ve always known His motives.”
“God can’t get anything by you, sir. That’s why you see right away that encouragement may seem innocent enough but is really a cover for a powerful delegation of God’s power.”
“Of course I see that. Nothing gets by me. He should know that by now.”
“Right, so that’s why you see right through what God is doing by releasing His words into the mouths of one human to speak to another human, thereby empowering him as if God Himself had spoken.”
“What else do I see?”
“You can see that when you send a demon to torment and accuse a human to make him feel inadequate and rejected, God no longer has to send an angel to countermand the demonic lie. All God has to do is speak to another human who will take His word to the dejected person, and just like that—” I snapped my claws—“the person is no longer dejected. His spiritual energy is renewed, and he’s able to withstand whatever the demon has released against him.” I paused to see if Satan was still listening. He was, so I continued.
“Fortunately, the humans haven’t yet learned how to use this new weapon. They don’t even know it is a weapon. But it’s just a matter of time until the intercessors will see what’s going on and call the encouragers to the front lines of the battle. A human who can speak the words of God to another human can thoroughly undo any demonic word curse released to the person. It’s much more efficient and conserves God’s angelic resources.”
Satan sat silently thinking over what I said for at least a minute before brushing it off.
“I don’t get it. For human number one to carry God’s word to human two would have to mean number one cared about number two to start with. Otherwise, why bother?”
Now it was my turn to look perplexed.
“You don’t get it, do you, moron? Humans don’t care anything about each other. They only care about themselves, or maybe their blood kin, but nothing more than that. A human isn’t going to stick himself in the middle of a spiritual war between a demon and another human.”
“They will do it, sir.”
“Maybe those weird ones, the intercessors; they might do it. But normal humans won’t.
“They will, sir.”
“Why do you insist on such nonsense?”
“Because they … they love each other; whether they are related or not. They care about people they don’t personally know. When they see other humans in terrible situations, they have strong feelings of compassion for them and want to help.”
“Only if they are going to get something out of it.”
“Regardless of whether they’re going to get something out of it. You can’t understand this characteristic of humans because you care about no one but yourself.”
Now, you may think, knowing his temper as you do by now, that this would be the point where he would do something terrible to me for my impertinence. But you’d be wrong. Satan can’t
feel
things like a human, but you humans can’t
think
things like demons, although you like to tell yourself you can and that’s how you outwit us. Nonsense. You interpret what I said to Satan about not caring about anyone but himself as an insult. He interpreted it as a matter of fact. Not caring about anyone except one’s own self makes perfect sense to him. Caring about other beings—unless you need them—in the demonic realm is silly sentimentality.
Satan stood up, signaling the end of his interest in what I had to say.
“Go down to Jericho. Watch the battle, and then come back and report when the king has backed Israel into a corner.”
I flew back toward the earth, knowing full well that Satan hadn’t believed a single thing I said about the encouragers. He hadn’t believed me about intercession either when it first appeared in Abraham. He would learn that the encouragers would have as much or more to do with Israel’s perseverance than the intercessors and the prophets put together. Gift by spiritual gift and office by spiritual office—it was so clear to me what God was doing, what He told Satan He would do oh so long ago when the earth was restored and Adam and Eve were created. He told Satan He would redeem the earth through men and women. Satan laughed. Fool that he is, he is still laughing.
“Mark my words,” I spoke into the atmosphere as I flew, “God will laugh last.”
C
URIOUS TO SEE
what was going on in Jericho before heading back to the Israelite’s campsite, I flew over the city wall for a look but decided to take a pass when I saw the entire town was tightly shut up and locked down—no one going in; no one coming out. Fearing I’d already tarried too long trying to explain encouragement to Satan, I hurried on to find Joshua. I barely got there in time to hear God speak to him.
“I’ve already given Jericho to you, along with its king and its troops. Here’s what you are to do: March around the city with all your soldiers. Circle the city once. Repeat this for six days. Have seven priests carry seven ram’s horn trumpets in front of the ark.”
“When do You want us to lay siege to the city?”
“Don’t raise a sword. You won’t have to do a thing.”
“But You must want us to do something. You’re not thinking they’ll just surrender to us?”
“Just do what I tell you. On the seventh day, march around the city seven times with the priests blowing away on the trumpets. Then tell them to sound a long blast on the ram’s horns. When they hear that, all the people are to shout at the top of their lungs. The city wall will collapse all at once.”
“Uh-huh. Just like that? The wall will simply fall down?”
“Just like that. After that, Israel can enter right in and take the city.”
I suppose if God were thinking surprise attack, this strategy was the one to go with. Whatever the king of Jericho was expecting, a parade around the city for seven days probably wasn’t it.
Joshua called the priests and the people and told them what God had said. I thought they might at least have a few questions, but not so. When Joshua spoke the orders, the people moved out without so much as a raised eyebrow. After the heaping up of a river in midair, Joshua’s stock was pretty high, even with the priests. He could have told them to run around the wall swinging a dead chicken over their heads, and they would have done it. No one questioned the oddness of his battle plan the least little bit.
Seven of the priests with their seven ram’s horn trumpets set out before God, the ark, and the Israelites and then blew the trumpets for all they were worth.
Joshua hushed the people. “Don’t shout until I tell you. In fact, don’t even speak—not so much as a whisper.”
Then he gave the signal and sent the whole contingency on its way around the city. It circled once, came back to camp, and stayed for the night. Joshua was up early the next morning, and the whole process began again. They did this for six days.
I couldn’t stand it. I had to know what the king of Jericho was thinking when he saw the parade marching around his town. I found my way to his quarters in time to hear a debriefing from one of his captains.
“What are they doing?” The king stood on his balcony where he could see the whole thing.
“Marching around the city with a wooden box and blowing horns,” the bearded officer said.
“I can see that.
Why
are they doing it?”
“No idea, sir.”
The king returned to his throne, leaned his chin on one hand, and tapped the arm of his chair with the other. After a few moments, he perked up, signaling that he had figured it out.
“Perhaps we’ve been worried about them for no reason. They may have been fierce at one time, but obviously, by now they’ve gone mad. Wandering in the desert for forty years could do that to a person.”
“That’s as good an explanation as any, Your Majesty.”
“So, what do you think they’ll do next?”
“Don’t know, sir. Hard to predict what crazy people will do.”
When it became clear that strategy was not the long suit of either the king or the officer, I tired of their uninspired conversation and went back to Joshua’s tent. The next day would be the seventh, and I was excited to see if the walls of Jericho would fall down like God had said.
Right on cue, the people got up early and marched around the city the same way as before, but this day they circled the city seven times. On the seventh time around, the priests blew the trumpets and Joshua got before the people.
“Now, pay close attention to my instructions. When I tell you to shout, do it, and the walls will come tumbling down. So, watch yourselves; don’t get close until it’s all on the ground.”
Maybe the king was right; they were all crazy. Otherwise, surely someone would have pointed out the odds against such a thing happening.
Joshua paused and raised his hands to settle the excited people down and to let them know that what he was about to say was important.
“The city and everything in it is under a holy curse and is to be offered up to God. That means nobody keeps any of the gold or silver. Everyone is to be killed except for Rahab the harlot. She is to live—she and everyone in her house with her—because she hid the agents we sent.”
The excited chitchatting stopped cold in mid chat. Lots of confused looks were exchanged among the people, but not a word was uttered.
Right there was a perfect example of how I could have helped God anticipate and avoid a problem with Joshua if He had only restored my standing. My entire existence had been reduced to watching you humans. I knew all the personality types. If only I had His ear, I could have urged God to hold up a minute and think about what He had made Joshua to be: a commander/soldier type. Joshua was constructed to take orders, give orders, lead wars, and that was pretty much it. He was not a thinker, feeler, metrosexual kind of guy. Joshua had no sensitivity skills to speak of and therefore could not process what the emotional impact was going to be on the men when they heard they were going into battle where there was to be no payoff… at all. Joshua assumed the men would just suck it up and obey like he would have done, ergo his willingness to obey God’s seemingly ridiculous battle plan for taking Jericho without raising an argument.
“Have Joshua take one of the priests along with him,” I would have told God. “Let the priest explain the theological implications, inspire them to greater good, bigger payoff later on for blind obedience—things like that. Soften it up some. It’s bound to work better than Joshua’s my-way-or-the-highway attitude.”
“What do you mean everything else is under a holy curse?” shouted someone from the back of the crowd.
Was I right? I could have written the script.
The excitement of the crowd was noticeably subdued as they waited for Joshua’s answer.
“I meant what I said; take nothing from the city. It’s under a holy curse.”
The teaspoon of sugar concept was completely unknown in Joshua’s world.
“Wait just a minute,” another of the men called out. “We do get the booty, don’t we?”
“No, and watch yourselves. Be careful that you don’t covet anything in the city or take something that’s cursed. If you do, you endanger the whole camp and make trouble for everyone. All silver and gold, all vessels of bronze and iron are holy to God and going into His treasury.”
Well, I can just tell you this was a deal killer for some of the men. Joshua’s stock took a noticeable dip, especially with the man named Achan. When Joshua turned his back, Achan gathered a couple of the other men, spoke in low tones not to be overheard, and complained about Joshua’s orders.
“Do you see what’s going on here?” Achan looked over his shoulder to be sure Joshua was out of earshot. “I’ve seen this happen before with people who think God speaks to them personally. Before you know it they become fanatics.”
“His orders don’t make sense. Why does he think God needs the gold and silver more than we do?” the fat one asked.
“Right,” replied the third man. “What’s He going to do with it? If God wanted gold and silver, He could just make Himself some more of it.”
“The way I see it,” Achan said, “there’s no point in attacking the city if there’s no payoff. We may as well leave it alone and spend our time on something worth more.”
“Oh, sure. So, which one of you is going to tell Joshua we’ve changed our minds about Jericho?”
“Not me.”
“Never mind,” Achan said. “I’ve got a plan. Just wait for my signal.”
Just at that moment the priests blew the trumpets.
When the people heard the blast of the trumpets, they gave a thunderclap shout. The wall fell down exactly as God said it would, and the people rushed straight into the city and took it. They put everything in the city under the holy curse and then set about killing man and woman, young and old, ox and sheep and donkey.