“I know, sovereign Lord,” Moses replied.
“You’ll look at the land spread out before you, but you won’t enter it.”
The pillar of cloud disappeared, and all by himself, Moses, the deliverer of Israel, walked away.
I was so dejected I could have cried. If God wouldn’t commute Moses’s sentence after all his years of service with those rebellious people because of one little foul-up, I knew I didn’t have a chance.
A
LL THE WAY
back to Satan’s lair, I found myself thinking about Abraham and Moses and how God had used them as both prophet and intercessor. Each of them carried so much spiritual authority that it could be said that they held both the office of prophet and the office of inter-cessor. In succeeding generations, things would change, and it would be rare to see one human with both offices. Prophets would be able to intercede, and intercessors would be able to prophesy now and then, but the fullness of both gifts would not normally be resident in one person. Knowing humans as I do, I find it amazing that the two groups insist on working together. The way I see it, when it’s done right, the work of each cancels out the work of the other; must be horribly frustrating.
Here’s what I mean: Suppose God decides to bring about a calamity to punish His disobedient people. But before He does, He tells a prophet all about the coming disaster with instructions for the prophet to proclaim it for everyone to hear. The prophet obeys and goes about warning, “Thus sayeth the Lord,” to everyone.
The intercessors hear the warning, and they start repenting and praying and interceding for God’s mercy to avert the disaster. God responds to the intercessors and stays His hand of judgment, and the calamity does not come about.
Who looks foolish here? The prophet. What he clearly heard God say
would
happen does
not
happen because of the intercessors; so even though he may be a
good
prophet, he will always appear to be
wrong
when it comes to judgment. It must be the worst job in town. You’d think a prophet would stay a mile away from an intercessor when he gets a word from the Lord. I know I would; believe me, I know what it’s like to be thought wrong all the time. But that’s not the case with these odd humans. They seek each other out even though a good intercessor will always make a good prophet look bad because right away when calamity is averted, all you humans start calling him a false prophet. It amazes me how God continues to find people willing to accept such a dead-end assignment.
As I got nearer to Satan’s abode, I found myself getting nervous. After all, it had been forty years since I was allowed inside the doors of his throne room. I wondered if I should stop by my perch and spruce up a bit. What was I thinking? I have hooves, claws, and scales. No amount of sprucing was going to help that. Instead, I decided to practice my opening line.
“Lord Satan, it’s good to be back. I’ve missed you.” No, too sentimental.
“Your Majesty, I’ve returned victorious.” Too unbelievable; I might be asked to prove it.
I was still practicing when the guards opened the heavy doors to let me pass. As I got nearer to his throne, where he perched like a vulture, I realized my tongue had tied itself in a knot. “Oh, no.” I was only a few steps away. “Maybe I can swallow it,” I thought in desperation. I tried—I really did—but it would not go down, and it would not untie.
“So, you’re back,” Satan said.
I nodded and tried to smile but did not open my mouth.
Satan leaned in toward me. “What’s the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?”
“No, thir.” I struggled to make a sentence, “Ith wight heah in my mout. Thee?” I opened wide to show him. He jerked back as if I’d assaulted him with bad breath.
“Is he speaking in tongues?” Satan asked one of the guards.
“It’s possible, sir. We’ve had reports that when he’s on the earth, he spends a lot of time with intercessors.”
“No, no.” I mumbled as Satan glared at me the way he would a common traitor. “Nofing like at.” I shook my head as hard as I could and with all my might thrust my tongue out as far as it would go. It sprung undone with a snap.
“Nothing like that.” I panted. “How are you, sir? I’ve missed you.” One of the guards snickered. Satan turned a deep red, and I could have just died right there; I was so mortified.
“What’s so funny?” Satan snarled at the guard who immediately tried to swallow his tongue. His natural color was coming back as the evil prince turned his attention back to me.
“This had better be about Moses.”
“Well, yes, it is … sort of. Actually, Moses is probably dead by now, but—”
“Dead? Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. I heard God tell him he would soon die, so, yes, probably.”
“Where is the body?”
“I don’t know, sir. God said something about his ancestors, but I wasn’t really concentrating on that part.”
“Fool,” he yelled. He jumped from his throne, pushed me aside, and sped past the guards and out the door, headed for the rim of the second heaven. There, he stopped short and looked keenly across the hills and valleys near the land of Canaan.
“There it is. I see where He buried him.” With that he was off like a rocket, headed toward the earth.
I couldn’t remember the last time Satan himself had gone down to the earth. Some of the others came over to see what was causing all the commotion.
“What’s happening? Where’s he going?”
“What did you say to him to make him take off like that?”
“Whatever it was, say it again.”
Everybody but me burst into laughter. Since none of us had a clue what had caused Satan’s reaction, we remained glued in place, watching to see what would happen when he got there.
Like a lightning bolt, he flew spot-on to a place near Beth Peor, and then he came to a stop in front of a cave so hidden it was doubtful any human would have ever found it. He looked frightening—much more so than usual. He was always horrible, but now he appeared to be enraged and much larger and more powerful. Taking long, deliberate steps and clenching his claws, he marched toward the opening of the cave.
He paused and looked both ways then lunged toward the entrance. In the split of a second, a blinding light appeared before him, causing him to stumble backward as he tried to shield his eyes.
A gasp escaped from those of us who stood watching.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Michael.”
“Michael?” I blurted, pushing my way to the front. “It can’t be Michael.”
But it was. Michael, the archangel and captain of the angelic guard, blocked Satan’s path into the cave where Moses’s body lay buried by the hand of God. Michael’s flaming sword flashed like fire as he wielded the magnificent weapon, causing Satan to stumble a few more steps back.
“Are you back for another match?” Michael chided him.
“Hand him over.”
“The Lord rebuke you.” Michael did not flinch from position.
“Give me the law breaker.”
“Law breaker?” I said. “Moses was the law
giver
, not a law
breaker
. Why is he calling him that?”
No one answered me, but several shook their heads. Nobody knew what was going on. I tried to think. When had Moses broken any laws? Yes, there was that one thing with striking the rock, but one would have to stretch to call that law breaking. And even if that were the case, what did Satan want with a dead body, even if it was Moses?
Satan tried once more to lunge past.
“The Lord rebuke you,” Michael shouted as he thrust his sword within centimeters of Satan’s contorted face.
Satan pulled back in fear.
“Flee!” Michael spoke the word in a quiet voice but with such authority that Satan whimpered as he slunk back farther. Several of us also felt the power behind Michael’s word and moved back a safe distance from the rim. Not knowing whether anything else might happen and not wanting to miss it if it did, we continued watching until we saw the chastened archdemon leave the earth realm.
Completely confused by what we’d seen, we were still standing there when Satan came storming back.
“What are you gawking at?” he growled. He pushed past us and headed back to his throne room.
We tried to follow him, but when we got close to the doors, at Satan’s command, the guards slammed them shut and refused entry to any of us. Under normal circumstances, demons—gossips that they are—would have been a titter with speculation, but not this time. None of us had any idea what had happened or why Satan had done such a bizarre thing. Why had he tried to steal the body of Moses? Why was Michael there to defend it so fiercely? Why had God buried Moses Himself and not allowed the people to do it? We had no answers.
Till this day, we still don’t.
I
WASN’T SURE WHAT
I was supposed to do next, so I retired to my perch, knowing Satan would send for me when he wanted to hear my report. It wasn’t long before his messenger showed up. I followed him back to the lair where Satan waited.
“Do they have a new leader?” Satan asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
Let me point out how this is an example of one of the rare ways in which God and Satan have similar speech patterns. Both of them are prone to start a conversation in the middle, assuming the other person knows what’s being talked about. Fortunately, I did.
“Yes. His name is Joshua.”
“Why don’t I know about him?”
“I’m sure I mentioned him, sir.” I wasn’t sure at all, but I didn’t blink and stuck to my story. “He followed Moses around for several years helping him out. Sort of like his assistant. Nothing really special about him that I’ve noticed.”
“Keep careful tabs on him; I want no surprises.” Satan motioned for two other demons to come closer to where he sat. “Moron here,” he said, pointing to me, “will move out with the Israelites as they cross the Jordan. He’ll keep me posted. As for you, be sure the king is ready for them. I want them stopped at Jericho, but do not allow them to be killed. I have other plans.” He rubbed his claws together and licked his lips. The others laughed as though they had an inside joke and I wasn part of it.
Satan stopped chuckling and looked sideways at me. “Why are you still here?”
I bowed quickly and backed my way out of the room.
Just once,
I thought,
I’d like to be treated with a little respect.
Was that too much to ask?
I flew toward Earth and arrived just in time to hear God speaking to Joshua, who lay prostrate on the ground before Him. God had spoken to Moses face-to-face, but let’s be honest, for all he would later accomplish, Joshua never quite reached the level of intimacy with God that Moses had. Whether that was God’s preference or his, I can’t say, but Joshua seemed more comfortable with his head in the sand than to chance a glance at the face of God.
“Moses, my servant, is dead,” God said. “Lead these people, and get ready to cross the Jordan River into the land I am about to give to them. I will give you every place where you set your foot, as I promised Moses. Your territory will extend from the desert to Lebanon, and from the great river, the Euphrates—all the Hittite country—to the Mediterranean Sea in the west. No one will be able to stand against you. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you. Be strong and very courageous. Now stand to your feet before Me.”
Joshua rose to his feet but kept his head bowed as God spoke again.
“Be careful to obey all the law My servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left and you will be successful wherever you go. Keep this book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.”
“I will do as my God has said.”
Then Joshua went back to the camp and called the leaders together. “Go through the camp, and tell the people to pack their bags. In three days we will cross the Jordan River to enter and take the land God is giving us.”
The leaders cheered and pledged their allegiance to Joshua.
“Call the Reubenites, the Gadites, and the half tribe of Manasseh together. I want to talk to them apart from the others.”
The men saluted Joshua and ran back to do as he directed them. It wasn’t long before the three groups were gathered and anxious to hear Joshua’s instructions.
“Remember what Moses, the servant of God, commanded you. Your wives, your children, and your livestock can stay here east of the Jordan, but the rest of you are soldiers, so you must cross the river in battle formation, leading your brothers, helping them until God gives them a place of rest just as He has done for you. They also will take possession of the land that God is giving them. Then you will be free to return to your possession, across the Jordan to the east. Am I clear?”
“Everything you commanded us, we’ll do. Wherever you send us, we’ll go.”
“As we obeyed Moses in all his commands, so we’ll also obey you.”
I could tell by the look in Joshua’s eyes that he wasn’t sure whether this was good news or not since he’d been right there as a first-person witness to the rebellion of the people against almost everything Moses told them to do. They never obeyed the first time.
“OK. Well, good, then,” Joshua said.
“We just pray that God will be with you as He was with Moses,” someone called out.
“You can count on us,” said another. “Anyone who questions what you say and refuses to obey whatever you command him will be put to death.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Joshua said.
Joshua went back to his tent, where two men whom he had summoned from Shittim, Jehoa and Simon, were waiting for him. He motioned for them to sit down, and then he shared his plan with them.