A Blossom in the Wilderness

This is hardly my first time reading the book of Numbers, but something was impressed upon me this time that I don’t remember feeling so strongly before: this is a really ugly book. For me, this read through, the ugliness was oppressive and relentless:

• The Lord strikes Israel with a deadly plague after the people crave some meat, like they ate in Egypt. (11:33-34)
• God condemns all the Israelites over twenty to die in the wilderness because of their rebellion. (14:29-30)
• When a man’s found gathering wood on the Sabbath, God commands Moses to have him killed. (15:32-36)
• Three men lead a revolt against Moses and Aaron, so the Lord has them and their families destroyed, then wipes out over 14,000 more Israelites before Moses and Aaron intervene. (Numbers 16)

That kind of stuff unnerves me, if I'm being honest. I don't always know what to do with it—except to acknowledge that it's scripture, God-breathed and useful (2 Tim 3:16), even if I can't understand how.

But then I arrived at chapter 17. Aaron’s leadership was called into question, so the Lord devised a plan. God said to Moses,

Tell the people of Israel to bring you twelve wooden staffs, one from each leader of Israel’s ancestral tribes… Place these staffs in the Tabernacle in front of the Ark… Buds will sprout on the staff belonging to the man I choose. (17:2, 4-5)

So, staffs are gathered, labeled, and left in front of the Ark. We don’t see what happens next, but I can just imagine the skinny white shoot peeking out of Aaron’s staff and stretching out its first, pale green leaves. Then, years pass in hours. The shoot reaches higher. The leaves, darker now, spread everywhere. The first white blossoms bloom. A bee buzzes through the Tabernacle. Petals fall, kernels grow, and the hulls split to reveal an almond shell within.

When Moses entered the Tabernacle again in the morning, “he found that Aaron’s staff… had sprouted, budded, blossomed, and produced ripe almonds!” (17:8) Aaron was God’s man—just look at the garland of life and beauty crowning his walking stick.

As I was reading Numbers, this scene was a refuge for me, a brief glimpse of beauty in an ugly book. It gave new meaning to Isaiah’s promise that

The desert and the parched land will be glad;

the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;

it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. (35:1-2)

Aaron’s staff is a literal blossom in the wilderness. For a moment, this desolate, oppressive, relentless place bursts into bloom. By the time I reached chapter 17, I needed that. This trek through the desert was leaving me spiritually dehydrated, and Aaron’s staff was an oasis. Here, I recognized the God of Genesis 1 and of Revelation 21 and 22.

I’ve never shied away from acknowledged the ugly parts of scripture. I think Christians need to be aware of and honest about a lot of things in Numbers. But, at the same time, I’m not going to be preoccupied with this. Not because it’s unimportant, but because it would do my soul and my neighbor no good. Instead, I’m going to follow Paul’s instructions in Philippians:

From now on, brothers and sisters, if anything is excellent and if anything is admirable, focus your thoughts on these things: all that is true, all that is holy, all that is just, all that is pure, all that is lovely, and all that is worthy of praise. (4:8)

I’m going to remember the ugliness, but I’m going to dwell on the beauty. An old, gnarled staff that’s sprouting, budding, blossoming, and producing—I’m going to focus my thought on these things, the things that nourish my heart. My heart needs more beauty, not more ugliness. Especially if I want to go out and bring some more beauty to the ugliness in our world.

You can listen to this week's devotional right here: