The Death of God's Spokesman

Please note: the majority of the following article is fictitious, the writer’s imagination of what might have taken place in the true account, which can be read in Deuteronomy 34.

The great leader had just blessed the crowds of people before him. Then, as if in a final, silent benediction, he raised his hands, and held them above the multitude for a moment. From his place on the side of a mountain, he could see the thousands of faces turned towards his. After lowering his hands, he grasped his old rod and began to ascend the steep slope.

As he climbed, he contemplated the last third or so of his life. This rod he now held had been with him through everything, from days of his younger life as a shepherd up to now. These years had been filled with unspeakable toil, all for the people he had just left. He had done all in his power to benefit them, and yet sometimes it seemed that they had purposely gone against him. Despite their rebellion, he had fathered them. Regardless of their stubbornness, he had protected them. Although they had disobeyed, he had advocated for them. He had been their judge, their encourager, their rebuker, their guide, and, at times, their common sense, as well. Now, finally, that was all over.

But could he really say, ‘finally’? No, for though they had been obstinate, he still loved them. Many times he had begged God to spare their lives. Many times he had turned God’s anger away from his unteachable throng. He, too, had been angry with them, not because he did not love them, but because they refused what he knew to be the best path.

Higher he climbed, pondering still. God had promised to bring the nation below him to a land; not just any land, but a land that would have blessings for them and their descendants for the rest of their lives, a land flowing with milk and honey. However, and here he groaned, there was a condition to this perpetual blessing. They must be obedient to the rules God had laid down if they were to receive and hold the land and its blessings. Could they do it? He doubted if they could; they had proved far too often that they easily fell for temptations from neighbouring inhabitants.

Then he thought of the man he had left as his successor. He would do what was right; he would stand up for the principles God had established. But, he knew that, if the congregation rebelled, it would take all the substitute’s power, and much strength from God, to bring the erring nation back to what was right.

He had now reached the top of the mountain. Below him, he could see his people. Ahead of them was a mighty river which bordered on that promised land, a land now filled enemies to be conquered, only possible with the help of God. How he wished he could lead them to the battles ahead, he felt as strong as he had when they had started their wilderness trek. And yet, he didn’t. The mountain hike has wearied him. Turning away from the scene before him, he sat down against a rock. The warm sun felt good on his face. He leaned back and closed his eyes, a look of peace crossing his face. His rod slipped from his hand; his breathing deepened. His journey was over, Moses was home.