The Death of Moses

A cool breeze swept across the mountaintop bringing a chill down Joshua's spine.

Silence.

Joshua turned to Caleb. He sensed the same thing. Behind them stood an enormous majestic angel picking up the body of Moses. The old prophet was dead, and in the arms of the most beautiful being Joshua had ever seen. But no sooner were Joshua's eyes transfixed on this heavenly guide, his attention diverted to another, larger angel who appeared behind it.

The larger angel drew a flaming sword and confronted the former with unquestionable authority. “Lucifer, put him down.”

The armed Angel stood his ground, staring his old rival into submission. In an instant Moses' body was thrown to the ground and the one who had carried it transformed into a completely different creature. Now dark and shadowy, Joshua couldn't tell if it were beast or man. But the stench was undeniable.

The shadowy figure hissed and hurled around lunging at the angel in a frenzy of hate. It was Lucifer – undeniably, and the real angel was Michael, protector of Israel. The fight was so swift, neither Joshua nor Caleb could discern who was winning. A blurred flash of light intertwined with darkness spun like a whirlwind around them.

And then it was over as quickly as it began.

Michael had Lucifer by the scruff of his neck and threw him to the ground. Lucifer rolled over but stopped motionless in his tracks with the tip of Michaels sword poised perilously above his throat. “The Lord rebuke you,” Michael proclaimed with a booming voice.

Lucifer transformed instantly into a pile of rocks underneath Michael’s sword.

He was gone.

Michael kicked the rocks aside and they vanished into dust. The great angel sheathed his sword and respectfully picked up the body of Moses.

Joshua and Caleb stood motionless, petrified with fear and trembling. It was the most terrifying thing they had ever witnessed.

Michael carried the body alone towards the northern valley. The men scrambled to see where he was going but kept a respectful distance. But he was too fast. Before they knew it, they could no longer see Michael. He had vanished in a barren landscape with no where to hide.

Caleb rushed around the other side of the summit to see if he hadn't back tracked. Nothing.

Joshua looked in every direction and saw nothing as well. “Maybe we're not supposed to know?”

Caleb rested hands on his side catching his breath. “Good,” he replied, “We don't have to carry his body back down.” He laughed to himself as he walked away, leaving Joshua to follow behind.
“I'm not getting any younger,” yelled Caleb from a distance.

Joshua laughed, not at what he had witnessed, but at how Caleb could brush off something so serious with a light hearted comment. Seeing Moses' staff lying on the ground, he picked it up respectfully and ran to catch Caleb with a youthful energy he had so sorely missed on the climb up.

For Joshua at least, the death of Moses marked the conclusion of a dark chapter in Israel’s history. Things can only get better, he thought.

They had to. They simply had to.

A Conversation with Moses

Reaching the summit, Joshua and Caleb breathed in the panoramic view with amazement. It was their first long look at the promised land from the vantage point of a mountaintop. The air was fresh and clear, and time itself seemed to slow down and catch it’s breath with Joshua and Caleb.
Moses sat down and rested by a large boulder to absorb the scenery. “Seeing this, I can’t help but think of Abraham.”

Joshua snapped out of his daydream. “Of course,” he replied. “What about him in particular?”

“Two things,” replied Moses. “His father Terah was told to leave the city of Ur and go to Canaan first, but he never made it. He settled half way. That’s all we know about him. A timely reminder, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” replied Joshua, knowing full well what Moses was implying. Compromise was not an option. No matter how difficult the task, Canaan must be conquered.

“What’s the other thing?” asked Caleb.

“Well, we know that Abraham was born into a family that worshipped many gods,” continued Moses. “Somewhere between his journey from Ur to Canaan he found the One True God.”

“We don’t know exactly how?” asked Joshua.

“Other than God simply revealed himself,” replied Moses. “What’s more intriguing, is why Abraham? And how he made the inner journey from idolatry to faith, without any knowledge of God’s law I might add. He was far from perfect, as you know. If you like, that is the true miracle.”

Joshua brooded over Moses‘ words. Something didn’t add up. In fact, it never really did. If
Moses was going to die today, there would never be another time to ask.

Joshua threw caution to the wind and blurted out his inner-most thoughts. “Through Abraham's Seed all nations shall be blessed?”

“Not the Canaanites,” chuckled Caleb.

“That’s was is written, right?” Joshua continued.

“Yes,” replied Moses, “What’s your point?”

“Surely God wouldn’t want to destroy the Midianites and Canaanites, and all the other nations he asks us to conquer?” Joshua continued. “If he can pardon Abraham’s sins, why does he judge others?”

“There’s a simple answer to that,” replied Moses, “but it probably wont satisfy you.”

“Let me guess,” said Joshua. “God is God, he judges who he wants, when he wants?”

“Yes,” replied Moses, “but truth be told, He’s bigger than that. He’s far bigger than you or I could ever imagine. What we know of Him is tiny compared with what we don’t know of Him. And that’s where things get very interesting.”

“Yes but calling it a ‘mystery’ is cold comfort to someone on the sharp end of Phinehas’ spear, don’t you think?” asked Joshua.

“Not necessarily,” replied Moses. “Think about it. God hides himself, so that we might find Him. He wants us to seek Him. I find that fascinating.”

“At times, I find it disturbing,” replied Joshua. “But maybe because I'm afraid of myself. My own heart is not pure.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,” interrupted Caleb, “both of you. Just believe. It’s as simple as that.”
“Caleb’s right,” said Moses. “Joshua, be strong and courageous. Wherever you walk, the land is yours.”

Joshua could see something more in Moses' eyes but he dared not ask. There was always a distance between himself and the great prophet, perhaps because he could never truly understand what it meant to have experience all that Moses had. Joshua slowly turned his back to Moses and joined Caleb to gaze once again on Jericho.

“If God is for us, what’s there to fear?” said Caleb.

Joshua went to say something but kept quiet. It no longer seemed appropriate.

Cold blood

“What is it?” asked Joshua.

“Come here,” Moses replied, “both of you.”

Joshua and Phinehas cautiously approached, with Caleb following behind, if only for moral support.

Moses glared into their eyes. “I said kill them all.”

“We did,” Joshua replied “they're only women and children.”

Moses breathed a deep sigh, stroked his beard, and took time to compose himself.
“I know the torment that grips your soul,” he continued. “Spare them and our sons will be fighting for a thousand years, or worse, they'll marry. Whose children will they raise? Abraham’s or Baal’s? You think the Messiah will come if there are no children of Abraham left on the earth?

Joshua could barely accept what he was hearing. “But surely...surely the only just thing to do... I didn't know...”

“Oh yes you did,” Moses interrupted. “You just didn't want to know. You wanted to bargain with God. Believe me, I've been there myself.”

Joshua bowed his head in shame. He had never felt so humiliated in all his life. If this is what a leader must do, he thought, God why did you choose me?

Moses turned his attention to Caleb, who by now was looking rather sheepish himself.
“Caleb, spare the girls. Get rid of the boys and women.”

“Yes,” Caleb answered, “if that's what you want, I’ll do it.”

Moses raised his finger sternly, “No. That's what God wants.”

Who could answer that? thought Joshua as he watched Caleb and Phinehas walk back and begin the gruesome task of separating the living from those who would soon be dead.

Moses gently put his arm around Joshua, pulling him aside from the cries of mothers desperately clinging to their children. “A great prophet will come after me.”

“The Messiah?” asked Joshua.

“Yes,” Moses replied. “Be sure to do everything he tells you.”

Amidst the bloodcurdling screams and wailing, Joshua stood emotionless watching Moses walk back into the camp. Is this what I’ll become? He thought to himself. If this is leadership, then it's a burden too great to bear. “God,” said Joshua to himself, “I just want to be free.”

Be strong and courageous

“Women and children?” asked Joshua. “You’re joking?”

“I don’t joke about such serious matters,” Moses sternly replied.

“Have you gone mad?” asked Joshua.

“Do I look mad? Joshua, you must destroy them all or they'll forever be a thorn in your flesh.”

"My flesh?” asked Joshua.

Moses's seemed to choke up as handed over a scroll.

“What’s this?” asked Joshua.

“A map,” replied Moses, “where you must bury Joseph’s remains.”

“Wait, you’re going too fast. What do you mean?”

“Joshua, the second thing God told me was the hardest of all. I'll only see the promised land from Mount Nebo, then I must leave this world.”

“I’m sorry,” said Joshua, “this is not how I imagined things would work out”

“I’m not allowed to enter Canaan,” Moses continued. “I’ll die on Mount Nebo.”

Joshua could hardly believe his ears. This is Moses, the prophet of God, he thought. The man who stood up to the most powerful ruler on earth. Moses who parted the Red Sea and talks directly with God himself.

“Just like that?” replied Joshua, “after all you've done? To come this far and not finish? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Remember Kadesh?”

“That?” replied Joshua, “that was just a mistake. They were stubborn and never stopped complaining of thirst.”

“I struck the rock twice,” Moses replied.

“But they’re always stubborn,” Joshua shouted, “why do you think we’ve been wasting the last forty years?
‘So you struck the rock twice? The water still came from it, right? If it were me, I would have...”

Moses placed his hand over Joshua’s mouth.
“Well it wasn’t you. It was me.”

Joshua got up and paced around the room, not grasping Moses’ resignation of failure.
“It doesn’t make sense. If you can't lead, who can?”

“Be strong Joshua. Be strong and courageous”, Moses replied, as if he was saying good bye.

“Me? What? You want me to lead? I didn't ask for this. What about Caleb? The tribes would follow him”.

“Caleb’s a good man,” Moses answered. “Stubborn as a mule, but as true and faithful as any leader could ever want. He’ll watch your back. When you divide up the land make sure he gets Hebron. That’s his dream, and nothing could make me happier than to see him plough those fields.”

“Yes but you wont,” Joshua replied angrily, “so what’s the point believing? You wont see him plough those fields.”

“Joshua, I already have. I’ve seen it in my heart,” answered Moses.

Joshua placed buried his head in his hands and cried. The comforting hand of Moses gripped his shoulder.

“I know how much you hurt,” said Moses, “I remember you tore your clothes in anguish. I was there too.”

Moses paused to hold back his own tears.
“But it's not my decision,” he continued. “You will lead our people into Canaan. You must.”

Joshua stood bolt upright and angrily paced the floor.
“But God is with us, right? Surely you can lead and he’ll give us victory over all our enemies? I mean He’s God, He parted the Red Sea. I saw it with my own eyes. He held back Pharaoh’s army with a wall of darkness. He can do anything.”

“He wont do what we’re supposed to do ourselves,” Moses replied. “The problem has always been our hearts, and it will be the same for you.”

“Well that’s even worse then. How can I be the guardian of their souls?” Joshua asked. “Our people are always going to sin. If you’re not worthy to enter the promised land then how can anyone? It’s impossible. And it seems totally unjust to expect us to do the impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” said Moses. “One thing is certain, you’ll come up against problems you could have never imagined. You can’t prepare for that, but you have to deal with it. Be courageous. Have faith and never give in to doubt. Fight it with all your strength, like it’s the Devil himself.”

Joshua stood quietly mortified in Moses’s fatherly embrace.
“I will.”

“And never question God’s goodness. He knows much more than us. He always has the bigger picture.”

“But it is unjust,” said Joshua.

Moses pulled back and wrapped his hands around Joshua’s face. “Unjust? By whose standards? God is God. You are not”.

Joshua digested that brutal truth. Although he still felt like a young man in an old body, he was too old to play games with God.

But the game was just beginning.

Kill them all

Later that evening, Joshua entered Moses’ tent with a great deal of fear and trepidation. The events of that day had been so horrific he had no time to process them, let alone break the news to Moses.

The old prophet sat by the soft flickering light of a lamp, diligently transcribing a parchment scroll. It must have been something of such great importance for he didn’t even look up when Joshua entered.

His wrinkled hands were rough and gnarled, but still strong enough to meticulously etch the ancient Hebraic text. The room was cluttered with scrolls, both leather and papyrus, piled high on the chairs and table - so high in fact, that Joshua couldn’t even see Moses speak as he cautiously approached.

“King Hur's daughter, if the rumors are correct?” said Moses as he carefully lay his quill down on the desk.

“Yes, the Midianite”, replied Joshua, “apparently Phinehas didn't know who she was.”

“Would it matter?”

Joshua rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Unlikely.”

Moses nodded his head slowly. “And I guess they asked how you know her?”

“Yes,” replied Joshua.

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth. It’s better than rumors, though harder to believe sometimes.”

Moses stood up from his chair, cleared the table of several stacks of scrolls, then turned to face Joshua for the first time in the conversation.

“Phinehas did a great thing. To be honest, I’m not sure if I could do that myself, even in my younger years. Yes, it was brutal and savage. But more than that, he drew a line in the sand.”

“A line in the sand?” remarked Joshua. “Slaughtering Hebrews is something we normally leave for our enemies. God knows there are enough of them. Besides, he’s lucky he didn’t kill the wrong couple.”

Moses smiled as he embraced Joshua warmly. “Luck had nothing to do with it. This is a sign, don’t you see? Getting Israel out of Egypt was easy, but getting Egypt out of Israel - a nightmare.”

“Really? I wake up from nightmares,” Joshua replied, pulling himself away.

“I understand,” said Moses. “Forty years is too long to suffer for someone else’s sins, but that’s all gone now.”

“What?” asked Joshua.

“King Hur’s daughter wasn’t the only one who died today. You, me and Caleb are now the only old ones left.”

“Dear Lord!” exclaimed Joshua. His mind raced with so many thoughts, so many old hurts, he didn’t know what to say.

“You know what this means?” Moses asked.

“Yes, of course,” replied Joshua, and in an instant he felt the pain of an old festering wound suddenly re-opening in his soul.

Moses took a deep breath and finished off a goblet of wine on the table. He gently placed the cup back on the bench, wiped his old grey beard and cleared his throat.

“Joshua, a leader without followers is just a cranky old prophet.”

“Maybe that’s our only consolation,” Joshua replied, “the just outlive the wicked.”

“I wish it were always true,” Moses continued, as he rolled out a map on the table.

Joshua sensed there was more Moses wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to ask what it was.

Moses breathed a heavy sigh and continued. “Last night in the Tabernacle, God spoke to me about two things. Firstly...”

“What?” Joshua asked, almost fearful of the answer.

Moses placed small stones at each corner of the map to keep it flat on the table. Stretching out his bony index finger, he drew Joshua’s attention to the last east of the Jordan river.

“Five Midianite Kings stand between us and the promised land. By dawn, King Hur will hear of his daughter’s death and will undoubtedly assemble the largest army he can muster. I’ll ask Phinehas to take twelve thousand of our best troops and wipe them out”.

Joshua sat down to digest the moment. I knew this was coming, he thought, so why do I feel hopelessly unprepared? He resigned himself to the obvious.

“It’s begun. We're invading Canaan?”

Moses nodded. “Yes. This will be the first of many battles. Kill them all - men, women, and children.”

Sin

Forty hard years had passed since crossing the Red Sea, and although Joshua kept a strong healthy frame for his age, the passage of time added lines to his face, subtracted hairs from his head, and multiplied the burdens on his soul.

All was not well in the Hebrew camp.

Walking briskly towards the tabernacle that evening, Joshua passed countless rows of people struck with the plague. Lying on mats outside waiting for a miracle, old men coughed up blood in between desperate gasps for air and young children screamed uncontrollably in the arms of loving parents.

The horrifying sights were almost too hard for Joshua to bear. He had to harden his heart and just keep walking, if only to convince himself that he was doing something to help.

Entering the tabernacle, he was encouraged to see hundreds of elders inside already down on bended knee praying fervently. Following behind, Salman and Phinehas planted their spears at the entrance and hurriedly caught up with Joshua inside.

“Where’s Othniel?” asked Joshua

“Still searching,” replied Phinehas, “You know the kid, always something to prove.”

“Don’t write him off,” Salman interrupted.

“Either way, I'll have to tell Moses the news,” said Joshua.

“Better you than me,” Salman murmured under his breath.

At the front of the meeting, the wise old prophet Moses prayed earnestly on his knees before the altar. Far older and more human than anyone dared to admit, his heartfelt prayers seemed too holy to be interrupted.

“Lord, remove this plague from us, as we have removed those joined to Baal. Lord forgive us. We have wandered from your ways, we have hardened our hearts and now we eat the fruit of our sins. Save us from ourselves.”

Joshua hesitated, looking back again at the entrance of tent just as Othniel arrived and planted his spear in the ground. The young baby-faced soldier was barely seventeen years of old, and what he lacked in height, he more than made up with his stocky frame. Unfortunately for Joshua, Othniel shook his head in disappointment. He was empty handed.

Joshua turned back again and reverently approach his mentor.

“Moses, we've searched everywhere. We can’t find the culprit. We don’t know who caused this plague. I don't understand”.

The old prophet slowly rose to his feet and turned around to face him. A chill raced down Joshua's spine as he saw the fire in Moses' eyes. But he was staring at someone else at the back of the meeting.

At the entrance of the Tabernacle two young lovers stumbled into the assembly - a young Hebrew man called Zimri and a pretty Moabite women wearing a lot of jewelry and not much else. Both were drunk with wine and lust.

She was strangely pretty, but it was an ugly sight. Much of her scantily clad body was covered in the idolatrous symbols of Baal. To make matters worse, despite hundreds of elders gasping with horror at this blasphemous spectacle, the two lovers burst into uncontrollable laughter and quickly ran away into the night.

“Murderer!” yelled Phinehas as he sprung to his feet in righteous zeal and ran to fetch his spear. “Come on, let's catch a whore,” he appealed to Salman and Othniel.

“Phinehas! Careful what you do with that spear!” Joshua yelled. But it was too late, he was off in a flash with the others not too far behind.

For Joshua’s old legs however, it took a little longer.

Freedom

Pharaoh’s forces were indeed cursed.

Hundreds of his finest chariots suddenly stopped in their tracks with every problem imaginable. Perfectly crafted axles snapped in two, wheels fell off, and riders were thrown to the ground. Panic stricken horses with riderless chariots ran in every direction, crushing many of their own soldiers in the mayhem.

And still Pharaoh pursued the Hebrews, driven by wrath, and blinded to his own fate.

Not surprisingly, at the same time Moses raised his staff, Pharaoh drew his bow, for he was close enough to take a lucky shot. But with the old prophet in his sights, he failed to notice a large rock before his chariot smashed into a hundred pieces.

It didn’t stop him. Picking himself up from the ground Pharaoh grasped his bow and arrow to fire again. White hot rage could only focus on one thing; killing Moses.

Pharaoh was so close now, he could see exactly what Moses was doing.

He could see, but he paid no regard. When someone is consumed with rage, their senses are dulled. Pharaoh didn’t hear the the pain of men and horses breaking bones. He didn't see the terror of the ocean walls collapsing. He didn't feel the sorrow of his last breath.

He didn't care. All he felt was rage. Pure evil rage.

And that was the last thing he felt, at least in this life.

The titanic avalanche of water reigned down more destruction than a tsunami. For a tidal wave spreads it’s force over miles of coastline - but these two colossal walls of water collapsed into a narrow canyon just a few hundred yards wide.

Joshua waited till the monstrous waves died down before wading through the water for any signs of life. Every Hebrew had crossed safely, but Pharaoh and his army were no where to be seen.

Slowly as the churning waters returned to their slumber, Joshua walked further into the water to catch closer look. Far beyond the breaking waves he saw the bodies of thousands of men, stripped of their armor and clothing, floating on the surface.

They were all dead - laid out like a banquet for an army of birds to feast upon. Gulls and cormorants, ospreys and pelicans swarmed in a frenzy fighting each other for a seat at this table.

Soon enough, other guests arrived from the depths of the oceans. Swarms of sharks churned and thrashed a frenzy of bubbles and blood. The waters came alive with ravenous predators, like the hounds of hell devouring their prey. It was a feast fit for royalty – with a king, and all army on the menu.

Joshua quickly headed back to the shallow water, fearful for his own safety. When some thing suddenly brushed against his foot, he was relieved to discover it was only a dead body washed ashore. It was no one special, just an unknown soldier, but sword in his belt looked too beautiful to leave rusting on the beach forever.

It was a curious feeling. In all his years of slavery Joshua desperately wanted to fight. Now as a free man, it felt strange to hold such a magnificent weapon.

Naturally, it's owner no longer needed it. Joshua paused to admire the finely craftedblade in the morning sunlight. He was almost going to throw it back in the water when he changed his mind. It would no doubt prove a trusted companion in the coming days.

He carefully sheathed the sword in his belt, turned and joined Moses, with the rest of his people, safe on freedom's shores.

Parting the Red Sea

Joshua breathed a sigh of relief. The Egyptians’ hasty retreat from darkness brought tears of joy and gasps of amazement across the crowds. Fear and panic quickly gave way to a holy calm.

Things that were frightening just moments before - the wind and stormy ocean, now seemed comforting in the last glow of twilight.

Nobody could deny God was with them. And while Pharaoh and his men were holed up the ravine like a genie in a bottle, the Hebrews basked in the soothing light from the pillar of fire.

Joshua closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh night air. Soaking up the warmth of God’s bonfire on his face, he listened to his heart beating with the symphony of waves crashing behind him. The ocean didn’t seem so terrifying now. After all, it was the handiwork of his Creator.

The sensation of a solitary tear drop tingling his warm cheek arrested Joshua’s quiet moment of reflection. He opened his eyes and turned to see Moses looking out over the sea.

“What now?” Joshua asked.

“It’ll take all night to cross,” Moses replied. “We needed a head start. I just hadn’t worked out how.

Joshua smiled with amazement. “You had to trust Him with that?”

“Yes. He never explains everything,” replied Moses, stepping up onto a large rock to address the crowd.

“Caleb, go to the front.”

“The front?”

“When the waters open, take your torch and gallop across to the other side - fast as you can.” Moses urged. “Show everyone its safe.”

“Joshua, go to the rear and wait. See that no one is left behind”.

Joshua hesitated, thinking of something profound to say – but couldn't.

“You’ll be the last one to cross,” Moses continued. “Joshua, you hear me?”

Joshua nodded. The last. Why did I know he going to say that?

Moses climbed higher onto the rock so everyone could see him. Looking out over the ocean, the mighty prophet raised his staff to Heaven, with strength of stature that defied his eighty years.

“God of Abraham, by your mighty power you created the whole world. Nothing is impossible for you. The sun, stars and moon are all works of your hand.”

“And we, your people, remember the covenant you made to our father Abraham.”

“You promised him descendants, a land, and a messiah. Through Abraham’s Seed all the nations of the earth will be blessed.”

“There is no one greater than yourself, so you made this covenant by your own name. You are God Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth.”

“And so now, by the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, I command these waters to part. Make way for the Lord's people.”

And with those simple words, Joshua witnessed the greatest miracle he could possibly imagine.

A broad front of lightning stretched across to the opposite coast. The hot easterly wind rushed in like a tornado pushing down deep into the waters, like the hand of God carving a vast canyon into the sea.

To Joshua, it was simply awe inspiring.

A long straight road of dry land lay before them. The air inside the trench seemed quiet and still, and the ground surprisingly dry. The ocean walls were strangely solid, but wet like normal water. It still sloshed around, but any splashes fell straight back into the walls.

How fascinating, Joshua thought, the water falls into itself - not the ground.

Completely speechless, Joshua watched Caleb light a flaming torch and gallop down into the depths of the ocean. The further he rode, the darker it became - for the pillar of fire only lit the beach where they stood. Before long, all anyone could see was the flicker of Caleb’s torch half a mile away, bouncing light off the ocean walls.

“Sons of Abraham,” Moses continued, “remember this day when the Lord your God delivered you by his mighty hand. Nothing is impossible. Move quickly now and follow me to the other side, but leave no one behind in your haste.”

And with that, Joshua helped Moses down off the rock and bid him farewell. It seemed poetic for Moses to escort the bones of Joseph across. For the all the people would see the enduring power of hope.

But the important duties of a rear guard soon consumed Joshua’s thoughts. Mounting his horse, he turned and pressed against the fleeing crowds. With the Egyptians camped so close, waiting for everyone to cross was a test of nerves.

Pillar of fire

Dark swirling thunder clouds were brooding over the Red Sea, drawing a hot dry wind from the east. It was fuel for the tempest, fanning the wrath of Almighty God.

Joshua charged ahead, past scattered groups of people jumping out of his way, ever closer to the crowds gathered along the shoreline.

He could see Moses now, walking purposefully beside a cart carrying the coffin of Joseph - bones that refused to be buried in slavery, bound for the promised land.

Pushing his way through the crush, Joshua finally reached the old prophet.

“They're coming”, he gasped, “Pharaoh, and all his army”.

“Good. Not a moment too soon,” Moses replied with unwavering faith.

“Moses. We need a...”

“...The Almighty knows what we need, even before we ask.”

Joshua wanted to bite his lip. The finality of the moment demanded he state the obvious.

“I trust you know what you’re doing - what He’s doing”

“God’s with us Joshua. Don’t be afraid.”

“I know,” Joshua nodded reassuringly, then turned to face the commotion behind him.

It was Caleb barging his way through the thronging crowd. He arrived breathing heavily and tired, but only half as tired as his horse.

“We don’t have long... before panic… Do your thing Moses.”

Joshua sensed the crowds were increasingly terrified at the sight of Pharaoh’s army swarming onto the peninsula. People were pressing in closer all around Moses, wanting answers, comfort - something. But why was he looking to the sky?

“Moses led us into the wilderness,” someone shouted, “because there were no graves in Egypt?”

“Like he dragged you here kicking and screaming!” Caleb replied.

“There’s nowhere to escape, we’ll all be butchered,” another lamented. “Better off slaves.”

“What’s happening?” said Joshua looking heavenward, now oblivious to the growing chorus of dissent. A massive pillar of cloud over the ocean looked like it was changing into fire. And the fire was moving towards them.

“You’d trade freedom for slavery?” Caleb shouted.

“There’s no freedom in death,” the angry mob cried.

“Freedom from your complaining.”

“Hey is anyone listening?” Joshua interrupted again.

“Silence!” Moses need only to say one word for all to pay attention. He slowly raised his hands to speak.

“No one is going to die. Don’t be afraid. Look, see for yourselves what God is doing.”

The pillar of fire moved steadily across the breaking waves, lifting high up over the Hebrews, then rested on the low sand dunes behind them.

Pharaoh’s path to attack was blocked. What’s more, the same pillar that appeared as fire to the Hebrews was nothing but a wall of darkness to the Egyptians. The blackest of nights shrouded the Hebrews like a curtain of invisibility.

There was nothing Pharaoh could do but order his troops to stand still. Even if they wanted to attack, they could barely see a hundred yards ahead.

“Is it moving toward us?” Pharaoh asked his captain Nemetha, whose hardened body looked chiseled from stone.

“Your Majesty, I think so. Shall I order the men back into the ravine?”

“This is the strangest darkness,” Pharaoh replied. “We can’t see them, but can they see us?”

“I don’t know Master, but we’re safer in the valley.”

Pharaoh pondered a moment longer, looking deeper into a darkness he could almost touch.

“Where could they go?”

“Nowhere your Majesty. Our fort blocks the coastal road. Even if it were captured, moving that many people would be like draining the Nile with a straw.”

“Nemetha, I’ve travelled long enough,” replied Pharaoh. “As much as I want to rid the earth of this Hebrew stench - the men are tired, and my horse is thirsty. Set up camp in the valley for the night. That makes sense, right?”

“Yes it does Sir.”

“We’ll kill the Hebrews after a good nights rest.”

Pharaoh resolutely terminated the conversation, keen to prove he could sleep well before a massacre.

“As you wish, my Lord.”

Race to the Red Sea

It was an awe inspiring sight, galloping across the sandy peninsula at sunset, but Joshua had no time to reflect. The dust cloud of Pharaoh's mighty army rose ominously in the sky above the narrow ravine that wound its way along an ancient riverbed towards the ocean.

A mile in front, two million Hebrew slaves were trapped along the shores of the Red Sea. Joshua marveled at the wet sand between them, its pale luminescence clung to the last rays of sunlight. Such a shame, he thought, the beach would be red with blood by morning.

But whose blood?

Pharaoh led six hundred of his finest chariots in hot pursuit - his steely eyes blazed with unbridled rage. The gold rimmed wheels of his magnificently crafted vehicle barely touched the ground as he mercilessly whipped his horse to breakneck speeds. Further behind, fifty thousand horseman armed with spears heralded the true might of Egypt’s army; two hundred thousand foot soldiers jogging in tight formation through the canyon walls.

Pharaoh’s apocalyptic force amounted to well over a quarter of a million, some fifty men abreast stretching back for miles.

All that separated the Egyptians from the Hebrews was a narrow pass between two steep rocky hills some thousand feet high. The pass led out to a flat wide peninsula, semi circle in shape and three miles in diameter, jutting out in to the Red Sea. It was a flat broad area, with steep mountains jutting down to the water in the south. A narrow coastal road to the north was fiercely guarded by a garrison of Egyptian soldiers, permanently stationed to protect the trade routes.

After six days pursuing the Hebrews across the barren wilderness, Pharaoh finally had them cornered, or so it seemed.

Joshua turned back round and spotted another rider coming into to view a quarter mile in front. The other Hebrew signalman struggled to hold his speed on an older horse. Joshua smiled and raced ahead to catch up with him.

“Caleb,” Joshua laughed, “I feel sorry for your horse.”

“I’m all muscle,” he shouted. “You should be grateful I let you have the fast one.”

“Fast ‘cause my work’s dangerous,” Joshua replied overtaking him.

Caleb grunted in friendly rivalry and slapped his horses’ reins. “Well at least I know how to use a sword.”

Caleb glanced back at the sight of Pharaoh’s army flooding out of the narrow pass onto the peninsula. Archers in the chariots were drawing their bows to attack.

“Good Lord!” shouted Caleb. “Are we ready for this?”

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The trap is set

Darkness.

All that man fears is revealed in darkness.

Ever since he was a child, Joshua feared the dark. He knew darkness itself had no real power, but rather those things that couldn’t be seen.

Running up the rocky hillside, Joshua raced against the darkness. Breathless, thirsty, tired and sore – every muscle in his athletic frame felt his age; forty hard years. Over the dusty barren landscape, the light was fading fast - both literally and metaphorically. Far on the horizon in the next valley to the west, the vast dust cloud of the Egyptian army blazed an ominous red in the fading light of day. The trap was set, but the bait had to be warned.

Scrambling over loose rocks and stones to the top of the hill, the sight of his own bloodied hands and knees reminded Joshua of what darkness can bring.

Darkness makes it hard to see friend from foe, and slave from master. Even life from death. Joshua knew of a darkness so great that a man could forget what he looked like. He could forget who he was, or worse still, who God was.

But the memory of light can be carried - like the smouldering coals Joshua unraveled from the bark envelope he carried in his satchel. Some hasty twigs and leaves, carefully laid around the coals would do the trick.

Joshua crouched down on his knees, a useful position for both prayer and blowing tiny glowing embers to life.

“God, I'm no use to you dead. Please, I've done this a thousand times.”

He fumbled around rearranging the twigs, took another deep breath and blew into the fragile nest of coals. The embers glowed in anticipation, but nothing took hold. His cradle of leaves and twigs lay dormant.

Sounds of murderous shouting echoed in the valley below.

He hastily blew again to resuscitate the tiny coals, like his life depended on it. All the while memories of those years of suffering flooded his mind - the hunger, sleep deprivation, and excruciating pain from the lash of his Egyptian master. Suffocating darkness can extinguish all hope. But not this time. Although Joshua had been captive all his life, he knew where he was going. It was written on his soul.

The voices were louder now. Four, maybe five of Pharoah's scouts - they knew his position.

He blew again, this time something caught alight. And then again, deeper and longer than before. The flicker turned into a flame; a flame into a fire; and then a fire into a pillar of smoke that could be seen for miles as it reached high to catch the golden rays of sunset.

Joshua paused to reflect in this brief moment of grace. Sadly, some men never see the light. Some see it from a distance, but prefer to hide their sin under the hideous cloak of darkness. Worse still, others know the light for a while, but are drawn back, where the darkness consumes them forever in the anguish of what they once knew.

SWOOSH! An arrow struck the rock behind him. Time to leave.

The Egyptians were coming, and so was nightfall. Joshua waited only for enough time to see another signal fire echo his message from the next hilltop. Moses would see that one.

Stoking the flames one last time, he scrambled back down to where his faithful horse was nervously waiting.

"The beach my friend," he whispered in its ear, "now or never."