“Idol Smashers” is a work of fiction set in the biblical era of the Judges. Apart from persons mentioned in the Bible, it is entirely fiction and presented here in serial form strictly for the entertainment of my readers. “Idol Smashers” is an original work, copyright Brett Best, 2011.
Day One – Shiloh
Previously: The ceremony of Yom Hakkipurim was mysteriously delayed by the Judge Deborah to select seven champions for an as-yet-undisclosed mission.
Jezreel and the six other men were hurriedly ushered into the tent beneath the banner of the palm tree. This was the sign of Tomer Deborah, the place where Deborah has judged Israel for thirty-seven years. With the Blessing, they had been years of peace and prosperity following the defeat and death of the Canaanite King, Jabin.
The faces of the six other men bore signs of concern mixed with lingering surprise. Silently, Jezreel took his place in a council of eight, with Deborah herself standing at the head of the circle. The honor of sitting at her right was not one that Jezreel sought for himself, but watched as she gestured for another of the seven to occupy that spot. Surely Deborah knew best which of them was most worthy of the honorific. The rest shuffled into place, the deciding of order being made silently and selflessly, not the usual way of men who are strangers to one another. Jezreel felt this was a good sign.
Deborah bowed, and gestured for all to sit. Remaining on her feet, she greeted each of the seven by name, then gestured for her servants to bring bowls for washing.
Amid those moments of hospitality, Jezreel looked about the circle. Noticeably absent are any tribal elders. Each of these men were younger, like himself. Wondering at this unusual circumstance and why the LORD willed such a thing, Jezreel took in Deborah herself. She looked burdened and tired. There was little joy in her face, more so the kind of weariness that is truly known by those in leadership.
An uneasy silence shrouded the room as Deborah’s servants washed the men’s feet and anointed their heads with aromatic oil. These typical acts of hospitality generally comforted travelers, but today they did not cut the apprehension of the room. The familiar contrasted too strikingly with the unfamiliarity of this morning’s events. Food and drink were served, all in the austere style that rumor said to be typical of Deborah.
After these acts of hospitality had been offered, Deborah conferred briefly with her chief servant. Waving all the other servants and bodyguards from the tent, he carefully backed out himself. The dismissal of the servants was also surprising, for Jezreel had never heard of councils taking place in such secrecy.
Deborah waited for the bustle to subside. The seven men looked to one another, each face betraying bewilderment, seeking an explanation. Jezreel certainly had none to offer. His experiences as a shepherd in his father’s house and as a psalmist’s apprentice at Kodash had not included political intrigue. Meetings of the council were secret to most Israelites, a reality that rarely affected their daily lives. Authorities figures better known to the common Israelite were the heads of his family and clan. Tribal elders were the highest level of authority, except for the times during which the LORD raised up judges. Though the heathen nations around them had strong central governments, the people of God enjoyed decentralized authority. The system worked because it was what the LORD had decreed and it kept Him as the sole King of Israel.
Finally, Deborah spoke, “Men of Israel. I have summoned you to council wearing a robe of secrecy that I must ask you to don as well. There must be no words taken from this tent until the matter is resolved. I will now have your word on this.”
Again the seven look to one another. Then Ammihud, the oldest-looking member of the group and the man at her right hand, said, “I so swear.” Others around the circle give their oaths and Jezreel offered his. Deborah looked upon each of them intently, as if she were able to peer into their hearts and judge their sincerity. It was rumored that a prophetess had such an ability. Deborah was recognized as a prophetess of the LORD and her God-given insight had no doubt aided her in the commission of her office as judge over all Israel.
She looked at the man to her right. “Ammihud ben Elishama, man of Shuthelah and Ephraim. You served Barak on occasion. Your prophetic insight has aided our people.” Ehud’s round face bore a look of great pleasure. His eyes revealed intelligence and power within his short, stout frame.
“Maaz ben Zophar, man of Beker and Ephraim. Your iron-shod goad,” she pointed to the staff-like weapon he had leaned against the wall of the tent behind him, “has served other judges over Israel. Adonai has shown his wisdom in choosing you.”
Gesturing to the man to Maaz’s left, Deborah asked, “Micah ben Shema, I understand you are something of a brewer and vintner. Is this wine to your liking?”
Micah was obviously pleased to receive this kind of attention from Deborah. “Well, ma’am,” he began, “I find it to be a little dry. I wonder if the grapes were picked a bit before their maturity. You see…”
Beside Micah, Maaz cleared his throat. Interrupted, Micah fell silent. Shrugging his shoulders a bit, he said “It’s fine.”
At this, Deborah laughed aloud. “Micah, you allow your brother-in-law to lead you thus? It is a man of true humility who follows a worthy man. You are of the clan of Beker as well, are you not?”
Micah merely nodded his assent to this question and took another sip of wine. It appeared that on subjects other than vine-dressing, he was a man of few words.
Deborah looked further down the circle. “Barak ben Caleb. You have come to us from Hanoch. You are a man of stature in the tribe of Reuben.” At this, there was muted laughter, for Barak was a giant of a man, over four cubits in height.
“I am honored to be chosen,” he said simply and bowed his head in salutation.
Deborah’s gaze turned to Jezreel next. “This man is apprenticed to a musician. Jezreel ben Abraham is studying to be a psalmist. I have heard one of your compositions. It is good you left the fields. Adonai bless you.”
“I am told that Joseph ben Joseph, of Carmi in Simeon has emerged from the desert to demonstrate his own gift of prophecy. Speaking with the voice of God is a great responsibility. You must take this responsibility very seriously to still be unmarried at your age,” Deborah said with a wry grin.
Joseph did not take the bait. He appeared to be one who had secrets and kept them. He said tersely, “I am ready to serve. The LORD is with us.”
“Blessed be the name of the LORD,” Deborah replied.
Finally, Deborah’s gaze fell on the man to her immediate left.
“I am Caleb ben Jeremiah, clan of Beker and tribe of Ephraim,” he blurted out.
Deborah’s smile helped to allay some of his tension. “Yes, I know. All of you had been revealed to me in a dream. Although you,” she said pointing at Jezreel, “gave me a bit of a start when you at first refused to draw a token from the basket.”
“Um…” Jezreel began.
But Deborah waved away any further comment. “Say no more, please. Each of you has been chosen by our LORD. Yet each of you must in turn choose to stay and hear His will. Your courage and faith will be sufficient for this task, but you must choose it.”
Jezreel considered each face in the circle, mentally joining them to the names he’d heard spoken. He observed the cross-section of tribes. The nation was well represented in this group, though Ephraim had been favored, for some reason known to God alone.
Come back again for the next installment in this serial.