A New Beginning

Watching your children grow up is an odd experience. In some ways they are so like their parents. Yet, in other ways they couldn’t be more different. One of your children looks just like you perhaps, yet has a mellow temperament that is the opposite of yours. Another child has looks that must be a throwback from several generations ago, yet loves the same music that you do. A third shares your sense of humor but leaves you wondering, “Where did her artistic genes come from?” Moreover, however much our children are like us, they all speak a different language and, in some respects at least, inhabit a different culture from the one in which we grew up. The next generation is both like and unlike their parents.


The same was true of Israel in the book of Numbers. We have pointed out several times already that this book is essentially the story of two generations: the first generation who rebelled against the Lord and ended up dead in the desert, and the second generation who will stand on the brink of entry into the Promised Land at the end of the book. In many respects Numbers 20 was the end of the line for the first generation: it shows us the events of the fortieth year of wilderness wandering, bracketed by the deaths of Miriam and Aaron. Now in Numbers 21 we begin to read the story of the second generation.1 As in real life, such transitions are not hard and fast. The remnant of the first generation is still present until chapter 26, when the complete transfer is marked by a new census. Nevertheless, in some ways the story of the new generation starts here in Numbers 21. What will they be like? How will they be similar to and different from their parents? What this chapter shows us is that in this generation there is something different and something still the same, along with some other things that never change, whatever generation you find yourself living in.


A NEW VICTORY

The story begins with something completely different: victory over the Canaanites (vv. 1–3). It is a brief snippet within the overall narrative but one that is full of significance. The Canaanites initiated the conflict, attacking the Israelites and capturing some of them (v. 1). In the past this kind of reverse at the hands of their enemies could easily have been enough to send Israel into a catastrophic tailspin of despair and grumbling, but the new generation took the challenge in their stride. They went to the Lord and vowed that if the Lord gave them success, they would devote to destruction all of the Canaanite cities (v. 2). The Lord gave them the victory, and they obediently fulfilled the terms of their vow, completely destroying the Canaanites and their towns. This victory was a kind of firstfruits of the conquest of the Promised Land, a paradigm example of how to take on and defeat the Lord’s enemies through trust in him.

The practice of total destruction of the cities of their enemies (ḥerem) was not a regular part of Israel’s warfare throughout the ages. On the contrary, it was for the most part a unique and temporary feature particularly associated with the conquest of the land of Canaan. Just as the possession of the land of Canaan by the Lord’s people foreshadowed their heavenly inheritance, so too the slaughter of the present inhabitants was a foreshadowing of the final judgment of sinners by God. At the end of all things, there will be a judgment for sin that will encompass all men, women, and children and will result in a final separation of humanity into two groups. According to the Bible, all those who are outside of Christ will be cast into the lake of fire (Revelation 20:11–15), while those who by God’s grace are the Lord’s people will enter into their heavenly rest (Revelation 21). What happened in the conquest of Canaan was a visual depiction in time of that ultimate reality. The Lord had declared that when the sins of the Amorites were full, they were to be exterminated as a judgment from the Lord (see Genesis 15:16). In that judgment, Israel served as the human equivalent of the fire and brimstone that destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19:24, 25) or the flood that destroyed the wicked in Noah’s time (Gen. 6–8).

This comprehensive judgment also served important purposes in Israel’s conquest campaign. In the first place, it marked out the battle as the Lord’s by dedicating the spoils of victory to him. Since the Lord won the victory, it was only fitting that he should receive the spoils of the war. Israel was not fighting merely to acquire territory or wealth for themselves. Rather, their battle was for the Lord: they fought for his glory and at his direction. That is why failure to observe the rules of ḥerem, as when Achan took some of the spoil from Jericho for himself (Joshua 7:1), was such a serious offense. It was stealing from the Lord, and it resulted in the Lord’s fighting against Israel instead of for them. In addition, the practice of total destruction of the Canaanites also removed the practical temptation for Israel to assimilate the ways of the inhabitants of the land, intermarrying with them and being drawn into the worship of their gods (see Deuteronomy 7:3, 4). A little later in the book of Numbers we will see just how serious that temptation to assimilate was, when we see the Israelites drawn into sexual immorality and idolatry through their contacts with Moabite women (25). Obviously, ḥerem warfare removed that potential temptation at the source.

Israel’s victory here in Numbers 21 marked their very first success against the Canaanites, and it was all the sweeter because it occurred at Hormah. Hormah was the site of the first generation’s defeat by the Canaanites back in Numbers 14, when they tried to enter the Promised Land in their own strength (v. 45). Now, though, it earned its enduring name of Hormah (derived from ḥerem) as the new generation demonstrated their faith in the same location where their forefathers had demonstrated unbelief. As a result, they saw the Lord grant them the firstfruits of the conquest.


MORE VICTORIES

Nor was this first success a solitary victory. Much of the chapter is taken up with the defeat of Sihon and Og, two kings of the Amorites. Israel at first sought to pass through Sihon’s territory peacefully (v. 22), just as they had asked the King of Edom for passage in the previous chapter (20:14–21). Just like the King of Edom, Sihon refused to let them pass and marched out against them with a sizable army. Here, though, the story line diverges from the preceding incident. Unlike the previous generation, the new generation was not so easily intimidated by a show of force. When Sihon fought against them, they put him to the sword and occupied his territory (vv. 23–25).

They then moved on to Jazer, where Moses sent out spies to survey the territory (v. 32). This kind of maneuver makes you nervous, in view of what happened after the last scouting trip (13, 14). Yet this time the story moves straight on from the scouting trip to the capture of Jazer and its surrounding settlements. It is once again clear that this new generation is not like their fathers, and it shows what could have happened earlier, if the people had only had faith in the Lord. Finally, they met Og, King of Bashan, and his mighty army (v. 33). The Lord reminded Moses not to be afraid of him, for the Lord had handed him over to the Israelites (v. 34). Once again, the result was a comprehensive victory for Israel and the total destruction of their enemies (v. 35; see also Deuteronomy 2:26–3:7). Israel then took possession of his land as well. The new generation was clearly new in more than just name: they were a generation who by faith were winning the battles that their parents never dared to attempt.


THE SAME OLD GRUMBLING

Yet in other ways the new generation was not so radically different from their forefathers. We can see that from the incident with the bronze serpent, which took place right after their initial victory over their enemies. Having defeated the Canaanites, the Israelites headed south once again to go around the territory of Edom, back toward the Red Sea (v. 4). Perhaps heading toward the Red Sea at this point felt altogether too much like going back to the starting point of the whole exodus. After forty years, the victory at Hormah notwithstanding, were they still just going in circles? Would they ever see the full harvest of victory over the Canaanites? Whatever the cause, the new generation found themselves in the same cycle of grumbling as their fathers had, over exactly the same things. They grumbled against God and Moses, suggesting they had brought them into the wilderness to die there (v. 5; compare 14:3; 16:13; 20:5). They complained about the lack of food and the monotony of the manna (v. 5; compare 11:6). They even moaned about the lack of water (v. 5), just as the older generation had in the previous chapter (20:5). It seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

The aftermath of this grumbling was no different for the new generation than it had been for the old generation. The Lord sent judgment upon his grumbling people in the shape of fiery serpents,5 whose bite was fatal (v. 6). The wages of sin and unbelief continued to be death for the new generation as it had been for the old. Yet once again Moses was there to intercede for the people when they repented. In response to his intercession, the Lord commanded him to make a bronze serpent and lift it up on a pole, so that anyone who had been bitten could look at the serpent and live (v. 8).

To understand what is going on here, it is important to recognize that neither the judgment nor the remedy was a random phenomenon. It is not as if the Lord saw his people sinning and then said to himself, “Now what shall I afflict them with today? I think I’ll send snakes! I haven’t tried that punishment before.” Nor was the form of the judgment simply due to the fact that snakes were a convenient commodity with which to afflict people in that part of the desert. Rather, it was a sign that was full of meaning for the Israelites, who had only a few years earlier emerged from Egypt and were therefore well-versed in Egyptian symbolism. These serpents were a potent representation of the power of Egypt, to which they were apparently so eager to return. Snakes were well-known symbols of power and sovereignty in ancient Egypt, as the familiar image of a cobra on Pharaoh’s crown reminds us.6 Having once been freed from Pharaoh, did they really want to be subject to the power of the serpent all over again?

Even more profoundly, though, the serpent (nāḥāš) is a symbol of the ultimate enemy of mankind, Satan himself. It was in the form of a serpent (nāḥāš) that Satan deceived our first ancestors and brought about the sin that caused us to be cast out of the garden into the desert of this fallen world. It was not the Lord who had brought them into the wilderness to die, as they alleged (v. 5). Their death was not due to his power failing to give them that which he had promised. On the contrary, death in the wilderness was the result of their own sin and that of their forefather, Adam. It was their refusal to submit to the Lord that led to bondage to Satan, who is the real hard taskmaster.

Nor was the standard on which the serpent was to be transfixed merely a convenient means of lifting the serpent up where everyone could see it. In Egypt, such a pole or standard was a recognized symbol of the deity’s power. Here it served to demonstrate that the Lord’s power was present in the midst of the camp, granting life to those whose sins had condemned them to death through the serpent’s bite. The transfixed serpent on the standard thus demonstrated in visual terms the defeat of Israel’s mortal enemies, Egypt and Satan, overcome by the power of the Lord. When the people felt afresh the bitter pain of their sinful rebellion, they were given a sign to show them the life-giving power of the Lord that was constantly available to heal them.

The serpent on the pole was not a magical cure for snakebite, however. On the contrary, it was a sign that worked by taking the Lord at his word through faith. The people were to look intently at the bronze serpent, putting their trust in the power of the Lord’s victory over evil, and then they would be healed. It is not coincidental that the Lord chose this means of healing the people, for faith is the key marker of those who would enter the Promised Land. The unbelieving generation of their parents, including Moses and Aaron, were excluded from the land because of their unbelief (see 14:11; 20:12). The judgment by the fiery serpents would similarly eliminate any from the new generation who were lacking in faith, for those who refused to look to the Lord through the bronze serpent would die. Only those who believed could enter the land, for only those who believed would live.


CAMPING AND MOVING ON

Grumbling was not the only experience that the new generation shared with their forefathers. They also experienced their fair share of camping and moving on, as verses 10–20 show us. This lengthy travel itinerary may seem at first sight a waste of our time as well as theirs. Who really knows where “Waheb in Suphah” was (v. 14)? The commentators can only guess. More pertinently, why would anyone really care? Yet the travelogue of desert camps heightens our awareness of the experience of the new generation of traveling on and on while apparently going nowhere. That is the precise point of its inclusion. It shows us that the new generation proceeded onward through a succession of nowhere places in the wilderness around Moab just as their fathers had; yet it was precisely in these places that they learned of God’s continuing faithfulness. There, in the middle of nowhere, they experienced the Lord’s faithfulness in providing a well (vv. 16, 17), contradicting their earlier complaint that there was no water in the wilderness (v. 5). There in the middle of nowhere they also experienced the Lord’s faithfulness in giving them victory in battle, as demonstrated in the reference to “the Book of the Wars of the LORD” (v. 14), along with the defeat of Sihon and Og, two of Israel’s most archetypal enemies. These victories disproved their earlier claim that the Lord had brought them into the wilderness to die (v. 5).

What is more, it was there in the middle of nowhere that the people started to sing. The first generation had entered the wilderness with a song on their lips (Exodus 15), but that song soon died away, overwhelmed by the harsh realities of life and the growing unbelief of the people. Grumbling is irreconcilable with singing. Grumbling feels sorry for itself, while singing delights in what God has given and what he has promised to give. It is therefore not coincidental that with the rise of the new generation and their healing for their sin, we see a new burst of song, which was the outward expression of their faith.8 When God’s people sing, they confess that life is not merely an endless cycle of one barren campground after another, as it sometimes appears to be. Rather, they proclaim that God is faithful in the present to provide provision along the way and that he can be trusted to give ultimate victory. Singing is always an index marker of faith in the greater realities to come.


FAITH NEEDED AND REWARDED

The bronze serpent was itself a sign of a greater reality to come. When Jesus met with the Jewish leader Nicodemus, he said, “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14, 15).

In other words, just as the bronze serpent was a sign calling for faith to which people could look and be delivered from death, so Christ’s crucifixion would have the same effect. God was going to provide a means of dealing with the wages of sin through Jesus Christ being lifted up on the cross.

Yet, if you think about the symbolism of the original sign, the fulfillment is richer than merely a superficial parallel. For it was precisely on the cross that Jesus won his victory over the ancient serpent, Satan himself, fulfilling the original gospel promise of God: “I will put enmity between you [the serpent] and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel” (Genesis 3:15). At the cross, Jesus broke the serpent’s power, just as in the wilderness the serpent was transfixed on the symbol of God’s power. Yet in the fulfillment of the sign, Jesus took upon himself the curse when he was lifted up on the cross. At that moment Satan seemed to have triumphed, killing God’s chosen one and extinguishing the light of the world. It seemed as if God himself had been transfixed by Satan’s power rather than vice versa. Death could not hold Jesus though: the resurrection showed that Satan had, after all, only struck Jesus’ heel. God’s power had indeed triumphed through that incredible substitution. Jesus bore in his body the covenant curse of God, so that through his death Adam’s offspring might be freed from that judgment. By his suffering we were healed. All we have to do to receive the blessing of eternal life in God’s presence is to believe in Jesus Christ and look intently to his death on the cross as the source and guarantee of our salvation.

The challenge that this passage presents to each one of us is therefore the question, to which generation do we belong? Are we part of the old, unbelieving generation that perishes in the wilderness, or part of the new, believing generation that is saved from its sin and grumbling by faith in the sign of God’s awesome victory over the evil one? If you have not yet placed your faith in Christ, now is the time to do so. The good news of the gospel is that those who were once part of the old, unbelieving generation, under sentence of death for their sin and already experiencing its effects, can become part of the new generation destined for life. Faith is the doorway to a whole new life. Whether you are young or old, all you need to do is look to Jesus Christ and confess him who was crucified for your sins and raised for your justification. In that simple confession of faith is the gift of eternal life. Just as Jesus told Nicodemus, “God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).


LIVING BY FAITH: SIMUL CANTOR ET PECCATOR

Faith is not merely the first step in our journey with God, however. We do not begin with faith and then move on to trusting in ourselves and our own efforts. Faith is the stuff of life in the wilderness, unleashing the power of God by which Satan is overcome. What, then, are the marks of those who are living by faith.

First, those who live by faith are committed to a life of repentance. Repentance is the reflex of the faith that brought you into the kingdom, for looking to Christ means at the same time turning away from all other means of salvation. You couldn’t look intently at the bronze serpent and at something else as well. What is more, repentance continues to be the reflex of faith throughout our earthly pilgrimage. We are constantly being bitten by sin, as it were—feeling the painful effects of failure in our ongoing struggle against our sinful nature. Just as we daily see those bitter fruits of sin, so too we are daily to take those sins and nail them afresh to the cross.

Repentance is not simply a matter of recognizing and bemoaning what great sinners we are. As long as we are doing that, our eyes are still fixed on ourselves. Repentance is turning our heart to Christ in the midst of recognizing our own sin and fixing our eyes once again on the remedy for that sin, offered to us in the gospel. Repentance is catching ourselves when we have grumbled over some challenge to our comfort or our sense of being in control of our lives or our acceptance by the in-crowd and deliberately turning our face afresh toward Jesus. Repentance is picking ourselves up after we have sought comfort in some earthly substitute for God, whether food or lustful thoughts or shopping or gossip or an angry outburst, and saying to ourselves, “This is not my comfort. My only refuge is Jesus.” The life of faith is a life of repentance that is constantly turning away from sin and turning toward Jesus.

Second, those who live by faith persevere by faith. The road through life is long and hard, and our progress is often slow and hard to measure. Sometimes it seems in our lives as if we are faced once again toward the Red Sea, going backward rather than forward. In those moments, faith remembers that our arrival at the promised destination depends on God’s faithfulness, not ours, and endures the difficulty. With the psalmist we may cry out, “How long, O Lord?”—the spiritual equivalent of the child’s “Are we almost there yet?” However, as long as we are gazing at Christ, we need never wonder whether we will get there. The crucified and resurrected Lord is himself the guarantee that all those whom the Father has given him will reach their destination. There are many wars and multiple campsites for us to traverse along the way, but his faithfulness will never leave us or forsake us.

Third, those who live by faith sing songs of praise. The gospel transforms us from sinners to singers. To be sure, that is often a gradual process. Throughout our lives, we will continue to be simul cantor et peccator (“at the same time a singer and a sinner,” to paraphrase Luther’s famous expression). However, as we near our destination, the songs should gradually increase in intensity. Those whose eyes are fixed on Jesus should be increasingly hungry for worship. They love to join the angels in singing praise to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, reminding themselves of the good news and declaring the gospel to all creation. They love to celebrate the faithfulness of the Lord in the present and the sure expectation of final deliverance from the Lord in the future.

Fourth, those who live by faith partake joyfully in the sign of the Lord’s victory over Satan. Israel was given a visible symbol to look at: a bronze serpent. We have been given a visible and tangible sign of God’s victory in the Lord’s Supper. As we eat the bread and drink the cup, we are pointed afresh to the Lord’s victory: we look backward and proclaim his death on the cross, and we look forward and proclaim his certain return. The Lord’s Supper too is a sign that works by faith, feeding and spiritually strengthening and healing those who discern the Lord’s body and blood, while those who partake without faith receive no benefits from it. It is spiritual food that sustains us in the wilderness and assures us of the reality of Heaven and the certainty of God’s faithfulness to us personally.

Faith gazes steadfastly and intently at the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross is the place where our salvation was accomplished. The cross is the guarantee of God’s present love for us, which is so great that he sent his only begotten Son to die so that we might live. The cross is the surety of the eternal rest that awaits us when our traveling and warring days are done. What could be sweeter, then, than to sing of the cross? In the words of the classic hymn by Isaac Watts:

  When I survey the wondrous cross
  On which the Prince of glory died,
  My richest gain I count but loss,
  And pour contempt on all my pride.

  Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
  Save in the death of Christ, my God:
  All the vain things that charm me most,
  I sacrifice them to His blood.

  See, from His head, His hands, His feet,
  Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
  Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
  Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

  Were the whole realm of nature mine,
  That were a present far too small;
  Love so amazing, so divine,
  Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Duguid, I. M., & Hughes, R. K. (2006). Numbers: God’s presence in the wilderness (pp. 259–267). Crossway Books.