5
READY TO ROLL
Prepared for the Promised Land
GOD WITH US
The Israelites had camped at Sinai for some time. It was a season filled with surprises. They discovered who they were—a federation of twelve tribes appointed as Yahweh’s unique representatives. They also discovered what Yahweh expected of them in this role: a way of life that protected the rights of each neighbor and worshiped Yahweh exclusively. They learned how to deal with their moral failures as well as how to maintain ritual purity so they could enter God’s presence. These lessons were crucial in their formation as God’s people. However, Moses had another surprise at Sinai, something infinitely more important this. He met Yahweh face to face.
A. W. Tozer once wrote, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”1 A study of cross-cultural Christian workers by Duncan P. Westwood demonstrates a strong correlation between the picture one holds of God and one’s resilience in the face of difficulty.2
What picture comes to your mind when you think about God? Westwood developed an exercise in which participants drew images of God in four window panes, depicting how their picture of God had developed over major life stages. His research indicates that the three healthy signs of a God image are:
1.The presence of intimacy
2.Movement or growth through the various stages of life
3.A capacity to embrace the mystery and expansiveness of God3
If our picture of God includes these things, we’re far less likely to struggle with anxiety and depression and we’ll be more resilient in the face of difficulty. Life presents us with a wide range of experiences. If we see God as distant and full of wrath, we will imagine he is against us, which will make us susceptible to a crippling sense of failure or a drivenness to earn his favor. If we see God as exclusively compassionate, we may struggle with him if we experience injustice. How could a compassionate God allow this? Or how could he let the perpetrators of oppression go free? If we instead conceive of God more holistically, we’ll be able to release our grip on understanding his ways, and we will be able to trust him to ultimately bring justice. This hope makes us resilient.
How has Sinai changed the Hebrews’ picture of God? Their picture began taking shape in Egypt. Each of the plagues demonstrated to Egypt and Israel alike who Yahweh was—a deity more powerful than the gods of Egypt, who holds people accountable for mistreating fellow human beings. Already in Egypt, God’s justice and mercy are demonstrated side-by-side.
At Sinai, they encounter Yahweh’s glory in an awe-inspiring storm. Moses hears from God on the mountain and then regularly in a tent outside camp. But something is still missing. Moses fervently expresses his desire to know Yahweh more fully: “Teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you” (Exodus 33:13). When God promises to go with them as they leave Sinai, Moses insists, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here! How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?” (Exodus 33:15-16). For Moses, Yahweh’s personal presence with them was non-negotiable. Without him, they were nothing. Everything they were was because of who he was.
The same is true of you and me. What matters most about us is to whom we belong.
What matters most about us is to whom we belong.
And what sort of God is he? Moses has a once-in-a-millennium opportunity to see God’s glory up close in Exodus 33–34. He ascends the mountain with a second set of blank stone tablets so the covenant stipulations can be reinscribed. During this mountaintop experience, Yahweh answers Moses’ earnest request to know him. He shows himself visibly to Moses and unpacks for him what it means to be Yahweh, choosing these words to define his name and convey his character:
The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion, and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation. (Exodus 34:6-7)
Yahweh demonstrates grace for those who sin, yet he takes sin very seriously. God’s grace coexists with his justice. They are both integral to his character. If holding in tension various aspects of God’s character reduces anxiety and depression, then it would be worth our time to ponder this. Would God be loving if he let people get away with murder? Of course not. Yes, he forgives, but the implication is that forgiveness is available through prescribed channels—sacrifice at the tabernacle—to those who approach him with contrition. A murderer who repents is restored to a right relationship with him and with the community. On the other hand, those who disregard his means of grace merit punishment, as we saw with Nadab and Abihu. At Sinai, Moses’ picture of who Yahweh is gets a thorough upgrade.
YAHWEH’S LONG NOSE
One of my favorite parts of Exodus 34:6-7 comes in the second line: “slow to anger” is literally “long of nose” in Hebrew. Imagine the inflamed nostrils of someone hot with anger. Their face is red, they snort with outrage. Not so with Yahweh. His nose is long enough that the heat of his anger has time to cool before he acts rashly.
My other favorite phrase is “abounding in love and faithfulness.” These two words in Hebrew are hesed and emet. Hesed indicates Yahweh’s covenant faithfulness, his loyal love expressed in action. Similarly, emet indicates that he is true to his word. This God who has descended to engage with the nation of Israel is by nature someone who keeps his word.4 We can rely on him.
Moses makes the most of this momentous occasion. He expresses his deepest desire, requesting Yahweh’s presence to travel with them. Moses wants more than a mountaintop experience. He wants the transforming presence of God in their midst wherever they go. For Moses, it has become the only thing that matters. Yahweh agrees. He has in mind “wonders never before done in any nation in all the world” that will show the nations how awesome he is (Exodus 34:10). Yahweh is jealous, with the jealousy of a husband for his wife who is in danger (Exodus 34:14). Israel’s most important task is cultivating the memory of who he is and what he has done for them.
When Moses comes down, his face is luminous. Literally.
And so are you. When you spend time in the presence of God, seeing him as he really is, you begin to see who you are as well—rather, whose you are. Knowing that you belong to him makes all the difference in the world.
As soon as the tabernacle is built, this same glory shown to Moses on top of the mountain descends and fills the sanctuary (Exodus 40:35). It’s the moment they’ve been hoping for, the sign that Yahweh will travel with them to the promised land. “The glory of the LORD appeared to all the people. . . . And when all the people saw it, they shouted for joy and fell facedown” (Leviticus 9:23-24). As well they should.
GROUP PROJECT: CENSUS OF FIGHTING MEN
Israel’s sojourn at Sinai is just about over. They have met Yahweh. They have learned what it takes to be successful. They have become who they need to be. The book of Numbers describes their final preparations to march out.
We might as well be honest. These are not familiar chapters. Hardly anybody reads the book of Numbers. The multitudes who start out on a Bible read-through in January typically get through Genesis and maybe Exodus, but by Leviticus they throw in the towel, which means they never even reach Numbers. In fact, if by some great cosmic fluke, the book of Numbers disappeared from all of our Bibles, most of us would neither notice nor care that it was missing. We can do without it, right? Or can we?
There are surprises in store even in Numbers, if we have eyes to see.
The book begins with a census of fighting men (hence the name “Numbers”). We don’t tend to find lists of names very exciting, but perhaps those of you in leadership positions can at least appreciate that God is well-organized. He takes a rag-tag bunch of slaves and whips them into shape at Sinai, leading them every step of their journey through the wilderness, even laying out exactly how to set up camp. Then he assigns jobs to various clans to make sure the whole operation works smoothly. Freedom is no castle in the sky, no philosophical concept. God’s vision takes shape concretely on the pages of Numbers. It’s practical. For people who have only known life as slaves and have had little practice at self-determination, God meets them where they are and makes their task straightforward. Follow me. Camp here. Eat this. Line up in this order.
But God’s concrete instructions are only the first surprise. Just below the surface of these endless lists of names and numbers—lists that make our eyes glaze over—precisely here is hidden one of the most profound truths of the book. These lists are good news.
Imagine for a moment that you were one of those Hebrew slaves trapped in Egypt. The faint echoes of God’s promises to Abraham—that his descendants would be a great nation with a great name, able to bless all nations—have all but died. The opposite is in fact true. You have become powerless and oppressed. Those who curse you are getting stronger by the day. Then, when you least expect it, help arrives. Moses ushers you out from under the strong arm of Pharaoh and you are free. You experience firsthand Yahweh’s great power at Sinai and his caring provision in the wilderness. God’s promises to Abraham—land, blessings, and as many offspring as the stars in the sky—are renewed for your generation and you can nearly taste their fulfillment. Gradually you learn that you can trust him. One year later—one year after the great escape—it is time to count the stars. The census lists prove that God has fulfilled the first of his great promises: you are indeed a great nation.
One man from each tribe is selected to count the eligible fighting men in his tribe. As each tribal head is named, imagine the effect on his family members—wife, siblings, children—and on the extended family that makes up his tribe:
From Reuben, Elizur son of Shedeur,
From Simeon, Shelumiel son of Zurishaddai,
From Judah, Nahshon son of Amminadab . . .
(Numbers 1:5-7)
Each man stands tall, arms crossed, nodding solemnly as his name is read. Children tug at Momma’s skirts, their wide eyes seeking hers as they recognize their grandpa’s name. The parade of names culminates in a parade of numbers after the counting is complete:
From the descendants of Reuben the firstborn son of Israel: All the men twenty years old or more who were able to serve in the army were listed by name, one by one, according to the records of their clans and families. The number from the tribe of Reuben was 46,500. (Numbers 1:20-21)
It’s as if God whispers in each ear, You no longer belong to Pharaoh. You belong to me. I know your name. You are mine. You matter. You’ve spent your entire life making bricks to build someone else’s kingdom, making their vision a reality. But everything’s different now. Your story is much older than Egypt. It stretches all the way back to a promise, and your future is bursting with possibility. Your family’s name is on the roster of a new nation. You belong. You count. I will give you your own land, and you will govern yourselves.
In Numbers 7 we’re treated to another parade. This time each tribal leader gets a day to shine as he presents Moses with an identical offering for the tabernacle—a silver plate and a silver bowl filled with fine flour and olive oil (grain offering), a gold dish of incense, a bull, a ram, and a male lamb (burnt offering), a male goat (sin offering), two oxen, five rams, five male goats, and five male lambs (fellowship offering). The parade of gifts would have been each tribe’s pride and joy.
We usually skip over these lists. But if our grandpa’s name were listed, or if our uncle carried the silver bowl laden with fine flour, this would be our favorite part! We, too, would be participants in the worship of Yahweh!
Several years ago I had the opportunity to visit Yad Va-shem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem. One room contains an archive of “righteous Gentiles”—non-Jews who worked to resist the Nazi regime during World War II and rescue Jewish neighbors. I spent a few minutes in that room hunting for my grandmother’s name. Oma had worked as part of the Dutch Resistance, delivering messages to Allied soldiers by rolling them up in the handlebars of her bicycle. But she didn’t hide any Jews, only an American soldier who had parachuted onto their backfield after his plane was shot, so her name wasn’t listed. Imagine if I had found her name listed there! These lists of archived names may seem “boring” to some, but not to those whose ancestors are honored.
For the people assembled at Sinai, these lists must have been downright exhilarating. Proof of divine election. Proof of belonging. Proof of participation in the covenant community.
The Israelites are not the same people who arrived at the mountain nearly a year before. Their dislocation and uncertainty have been replaced by clear instructions from strong leaders. Their camp is organized around the tabernacle, the concentration of God’s presence in their midst. They are who they are because they belong to Yahweh. Each individual has a place in this community and a job to do, down to who carries what when it’s time to move. They left Egypt as families, but they’re leaving Sinai as tribes.
I have no personal military experience, but I imagine that Israel’s transformation at Sinai is similar to the making of a squadron of soldiers at boot camp. Recruits arrive from various locations with diverse backgrounds and personalities. They come as individuals wanting to prove themselves. Some are too stubborn to submit to their leaders willingly at first. But by the end of their training they have become a team ready to take orders, ready to face anything together.
The Israelites are a nation now. And Yahweh has a special blessing in store for them.
#BLESSED: THE PRIESTLY BLESSING
It is here, in the midst of the census, the instructions for setting up camp, the outline of duties for the Levites and the other priestly clans, the guidelines for keeping the camp pure and fulfilling vows—here, in this unlikely place God has another surprise in store. He entrusts it first to Moses, who tells Aaron and his sons, who announce it to the entire nation. It’s known as the priestly blessing—the tiny part of Numbers we’ve incorporated into our church services because it is beautiful. We may have heard this gospel blessing time and again. But it is more profound if we read it with Israel, against the curse of their long years of thankless toil in Egypt, in light of the freedom so newly given, as the culmination of their new vocation as Yahweh’s representatives. God is so determined to bless his people that he includes it in Aaron’s job description. Here is the good news:
The LORD said to Moses, “Tell Aaron and his sons, ‘This is how you are to bless the Israelites. Say to them:
“ ‘ “The LORD bless you
and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace.” ’
(Numbers 6:22-26)
And the wonder of it all is that they’ve done so little to deserve it. They have whined, complained, doubted, rebelled, and cowered in fear when they should have trusted. But God is unwilling to drop the promises he made to Abraham. He is committed to his plan to bless.
In the following verse, Yahweh concludes his instructions: “So they will put my name on the Israelites, and I will bless them” (Numbers 6:27). In blessing by his name, he is essentially placing his name upon his people. Yahweh had already claimed them as his own at Sinai. Now he institutes an official blessing to serve as a regular reminder. From this moment on they are identified as his.
This blessing recalls the command not to bear Yahweh’s name in vain (Exodus 20:7). It is the clearest indication in Scripture of Yahweh actually putting his name on his people. In the ancient world, slaves were often tattooed with their owner’s name—either on their forehead or on their hand or forearm. Temple servants were even branded with the name or symbol of the god to whom they belonged.5 The Israelites had just been freed from forced slavery, but they had entered into another arrangement where they were not free to do anything and everything they wanted. Now they willingly belong to Yahweh. They bear his name, dedicating their lives to his service. Their new master is determined to bless. They wear his invisible tattoo.
Deuteronomy 28:9-10 reflects on this reality in reference to the next generation. It says, “Yahweh will establish you as his holy people, as he has sworn to you, if you keep the commandments of Yahweh your God and walk in his ways. All the people of the earth shall see that the name of Yahweh was invoked over you and they shall be afraid of you” (author’s translation).
To have this blessing invoked over them reinforces the idea that Israel is selected for a particular purpose. As bearers of Yahweh’s name, they represent him among the nations. Everyone is watching the Israelites to find out what sort of god Yahweh really is. And these nations soon discover that anyone who messes with Israel must answer to him.
Later in the book of Numbers, Balak, king of Moab, would find this out the hard way (see Numbers 22–24). Balak is afraid of the Israelites (as Yahweh had said the nations would be). He hires Balaam, a sorcerer, to call down curses on Israel. The two attempt multiple vantage points overlooking Israel’s camp, hoping for curses to come. Instead, only blessings flow. No matter how much money King Balak offered the prophet Balaam, he could not entice Balaam to curse the Israelites. Balaam knew better than to cross Yahweh. Yahweh has nothing but blessing in store for his people. Even after all of their sin, Yahweh was entirely committed to blessing his people.
To bear the name of Yahweh, to bear his blessing, entails great responsibility. This explains the purpose of Israel’s laws. They are to be a people set apart, a holy nation.
PROFANING YAHWEH’S NAME
Leviticus adds depth to the idea of bearing Yahweh’s name by fleshing out the behaviors that profane it. Significantly, profaning the name—failing to set it apart as holy—is not just a matter of improper speech. Israel could profane the name through child sacrifice to Molek (Lev 18:21; 20:3), false swearing (19:12), participation in pagan funerary rites (21:5-6), improper handling of temple gifts (22:2), or cursing Yahweh (24:11). Leviticus 22:31-32 links profaning the name with breaking any command.6 Israel’s holiness requires distinctive behavior (Lev 11:44; 19:2; 20:24-26).
Others should be able to tell just by looking at Israel that they belong to Yahweh. What they wear, what they eat, how they treat one another, who they are intimate with, how they do business—all these reflect on Yahweh. Israel declares their covenantal status by living according to Yahweh’s instructions. If they fail, Yahweh’s name—his reputation—is at stake. When they do fail, the prophets charge them with profaning Yahweh’s name among the nations.
LOOKING BACK: REMEMBERING SINAI
The stories we tell ourselves shape what we believe and how we behave. Steven Sample is the president of the University of Southern California. In his bestselling book, The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, he suggests that one of the keys to successful leadership is to learn to tell the story of your institution.7 Constituents need to know that they are part of something bigger than themselves and that it’s headed somewhere other than bankruptcy. Left to themselves, members of our community may buy into a self-defeating narrative.
In the echo chamber of the desert, that liminal space, competing interpretations try to make sense of Israel’s experience. The story can be spun any number of ways. Here are a few of the voices that ricochet off Mount Sinai:
The Sullen: “If only we had died by the LORD’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death” (Exodus 16:3).
The Skeptic: “It was with evil intent that he brought them out, to kill them in the mountains and to wipe them off the face of the earth” (Exodus 32:12).
The Jubilant: “Praise be to the LORD, who rescued you from the hand of the Egyptians and of Pharaoh. . . . Now I know that the LORD is greater than all other gods” (Exodus 18:10-11).
These were not wasted years. They were years of training, of becoming.
If we fast-forward to the book of Deuteronomy, we can listen in on several authorized retellings of Israel’s story. In his final sermon, Moses gives us his perspective on their years in the wilderness:
Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. . . . As a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you. (Deuteronomy 8:2, 5)
These were not wasted years. They were years of training, of becoming. Moses wants the people to be ready for what comes next. For that, they need to learn to tell their story. Like Steven Sample, Moses understands the importance of telling the story well. He teaches them the following grace-filled narrative—an official answer to their children’s question, “What do all these laws mean?”
We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. Before our eyes the LORD sent signs and wonders—great and terrible—on Egypt and Pharaoh and his whole household. But he brought us out from there to bring us in and give us the land he promised on oath to our ancestors. The LORD commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear the LORD our God, so that we might always prosper and be kept alive, as is the case today. And if we are careful to obey all this law before the LORD our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness. (Deuteronomy 6:21-25, emphasis added)
The problem with stories is that we forget them unless they are rehearsed. Several years ago I attended a conference in San Antonio, Texas. My hotel happened to be right next door to the Alamo. I racked my brain trying to recall what had happened there, but ironically, all I could come up with was the rallying cry, “Remember the Alamo!” That was precisely what I could not do, because I had not heard the story again after my elementary school history lesson.
Yahweh knows this about humans, so he comes up with a spectacular plan that will sear these memories deep into his people’s consciousness: a party. Every year, the Israelites will set aside a day to reenact their last night in Egypt. This party is so important that anyone who is unable to celebrate gets a rain check—they celebrate it the following month.
For detailed party plans, we have to turn back to Exodus 12, where the nail-biting story of Israel’s deliverance is awkwardly interrupted by nearly two chapters of ritual instructions. But this interruption is profound. The Passover ritual ensures that every succeeding generation of Israelites will own the exodus. It will be their story. The exodus makes them who they are. That’s what makes this party—and its lengthy instructions—so important. The menu includes a male lamb without defect, roasted over the fire, whose blood is brushed on the doorframes of their houses, bitter herbs to remind them of the bitterness of slavery in Egypt and bread without yeast to remind them of their hasty departure. The yearly festival ensured that the exodus would be more than a distant memory. It would evoke the smell of lamb roasting, flatbread baking, and warm blood dripping. It would elicit the sight of death and family and traveling clothes. It would summon the bitter taste of slavery, the feel of soft dough and scratchy wool, the sounds of fire crackling and stories being told, the sense of Yahweh’s protection over the entire household.
Traditions can be powerful, especially when they involve food. As a child, we had a somewhat unusual tradition. Each Thanksgiving Day, my entire extended family would meet at a hotel restaurant for a buffet brunch. Hours before turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy and pumpkin pie, we would load up on waffles and syrup, fruit compote and scrambled eggs. I always thought it strange to have two giant meals in one day, but I didn’t argue. Eventually I asked why and got a comical answer. As it turns out, one Thanksgiving during my Mom’s childhood the oven was broken, so the family went out for a big breakfast. Somehow it became an annual tradition. Even now, some fifty years later, my cousins and their families who are scattered across North America have kept up the tradition. We don’t gather the extended family anymore, but we do take our children out for breakfast on Thanksgiving Day. Something seems missing without it.
Danny and I have added to the tradition. We bring along a Bible, paper, and pen. First we read Psalm 100 and Deuteronomy 8, about the importance of remembering what God has generously given us. Then we make our annual thankful list.
If Israel forgets their story, they’re in danger of forgetting who they are and to whom they belong. To help the Israelites remember the events that define them, Yahweh institutes the Passover celebration as a multisensory experience. It is a winning plan to cultivate the story and keep it alive.
MARCHING ORDERS
Sinai is framed by trumpets. Israel’s arrival at Sinai is heralded by the loud blast of a ram’s horn (Exodus 19:16). In Numbers 10, a trumpet blast signals that their time at Sinai has come to a close. The silver trumpet sounds. They see the cloud lift. And it’s time to set out—each tribe marching in order. Each tribe under its standard.
The ark containing the covenant tablets out in front with the pillar of cloud.
Three tribes.
The tabernacle, taken apart and carried by designated clans.
Three more tribes.
The tabernacle furniture, wrapped and carried by designated clans.
Three more tribes.
Three tribes as a rear guard.
It must have been quite a parade.
If we accept current English translations, the Hebrews numbered 600,000 men plus women and children when they left Egypt (Exodus 12:37). That would total at least two million people.
It’s worth mentioning, though, that there are other ways to understand the numbers in the Hebrew text. While the English text is usually very reliable, in this instance I think it’s quite possible that inaccurate English translations have misled us, and the numbers may be substantially smaller. I have no desire to undermine the biblical text. My goal, first and foremost, is to translate Scripture in the most accurate way possible. To suggest that Yahweh rescued fewer Israelites from Egypt is not to undermine his power.
HOW MANY HEBREWS?
Why question the numbers given in Scripture for the Hebrew population? Two reasons: (1) Because archaeologists’ best estimates of population sizes during this period of history, both in Egypt and in the land of Canaan in the decades that follow, are much lower. A much smaller group of Israelite escapees would fit the evidence we have. (2) Because this large number introduces problems with the biblical text. In the first place, it stretches credulity to suppose that the twelve sons of Jacob became a nation of two million people in only four generations (see Exodus 6:14-25 for the family tree).
Furthermore, if the total number of males over twenty years old is 603,550, then males of all ages would total over a million. Numbers 3:43 lists the total of firstborn males as only 22,273. If there were a million men total, then the number of firstborns compared to the total number of men would yield a ratio of fifty to one. And that’s only counting males, not females. That means every Israelite mother would have averaged 100 children.a Obviously that’s not realistic.
So what are our options?
(1) Assume that archaeologists are wrong in their population estimates of ancient Egypt and Canaan, and that vast numbers of ancient inhabitants either left no evidence of their existence in either culture or left evidence that archaeologists have either misinterpreted or not yet found.
(2) Conclude that the Bible’s large numbers are rhetorical or symbolic, perhaps representing the population of a later period. Since the population of Israel under Solomon’s reign is roughly comparable to the large figure, it’s possible that the author is making a sophisticated literary claim that identifies Israel under the monarchy with Israel of the Exodus.b
(3) Translate the Hebrew differently. The Hebrew text does not contain numerals, but rather numbers spelled out with words. The entire phrase in Exodus 12:37 reads “six hundred thousand on foot, men without children” (author’s translation), but the word eleph that I’ve rendered here as “thousand” is a homonym with several other possible translations, including military unit or clan. Both of these are reasonable possibilities.
Here are two sample passages that use eleph with the meaning “clan”:
Judges 6:15: “‘Pardon me, my lord,’ Gideon replied, ‘but how can I save Israel? My eleph is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.’”
Joshua 22:14: “With him they sent ten of the chief men, one from each of the tribes of Israel, each the head of a family division among the Israelite eleph.”
In Exodus 12:37, “military units” is a smoother fit than “clans,” since the whole phrase indicates that men alone are being counted: “Six hundred eleph on foot, men without children.” The tribe of Reuben, for example, includes “forty-six eleph and five hundred” (Numbers 1:21, author’s translation). Humphreys argues that this could be read as forty-six military units totaling 500 men. Using this as his basis, he calculates that the average Israelite military unit must have consisted of just over nine men from two families (though the actual size ranged from six to fourteen, depending on the tribe). This figure corresponds roughly to the size of military troops mentioned in the El-Amarna tablets, where on separate occasions a king requests troops of ten or twenty men each.c In Israel’s case, Humphreys proposes a total of 5,500 men over twenty years old leaving Egypt, bringing the overall total for the Exodus to roughly 22,000 men, women, and children.d
Whatever your conclusion about the size of the Israelite company, the book of Numbers depicts an impressive parade of Israelite men, women, and children following the pillar of cloud as they march from Mount Sinai. They are no longer disorganized refugees, fleeing from Pharaoh. Yahweh has brought order from chaos.
DIGGING DEEPER
Timothy R. Ashley. The Book of Numbers. NICOT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993.
*Kenneth Kitchen. On the Reliability of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003. Pages 264-65.
Austin Surls. Making Sense of the Divine Name in Exodus: From Etymology to Literary Onomastics. BBRSup 17. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2017.
Related video from The Bible Project:
“Torah: Numbers.”