On the Worst of Days
By Anthony Casperson
6-15-24

In heroic tales, we often witness the hero live up to heights of character. In some, this ideal is stated directly. Like the old classic, “With great power comes great responsibility.” And while the hero usually has to live up to that call of character, there almost as often is a point in the story where they come close to failing it.

A climactic battle where the hero must once again choose to be the person who stands for that character slogan.

The villain has taken nearly everything from the hero. Anger wells in the protagonist as the big bad monologues mockingly. We see fists clench—or some other symbol of powering up to smite the antagonist. But then, something catches the attention of the hero. A person’s voice. The cry of a child. A flash of a camera. Or even just an internal reminder of who they’re supposed to be as a hero.

And with a breath, we’re reminded that a real hero remains true to who they are, even on the worst of days.

Loved ones can be taken away. Nearly everyone could hate them. Every plan for good could be rejected. But none of that matters. Because every person’s character is proven most easily on those bad days, when nothing goes right.

It’s easy to say that some ideal is what a person stands for. But when things get difficult, that’s when the hero proves why they’re synonymous with that quality of character.

Last week, we started the summer blog series where we look at the God whose bio reads, “A God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” This is the character ideal that epitomizes God. In both testaments.

And was proven in one of the worst days during the time of that same generation of Israelites. Which we’ll see in Numbers 13-14.

It had been a turbulent time during the trek from Egypt to just outside of the Promised Land. Multiple mumblings by the Israelite where they wished they’d never left slavery in Egypt—as if this time with God were worse than that. Rebellions abounded. And that’s not even mentioning the idolatry which took place previous to last week’s passage.

Needless to say, the Israelites’ track record was far less than stellar. Yet God had been with them. Continued to keep his presence among them. Forgave over and over. Even though the people had to live with certain consequences of their rebellions, God’s covenant loyalty and faithfulness to his chosen people remained sure.

And in Numbers 13, we see Israel within eyesight of the Promised Land. The whole trip seemed to nearly be over, despite the incessant “Are we there yet?” questionings. Months of non-stop complaints.

As they look into the unknown of the land ahead, the people elect one representative from each of the twelve tribes to scope it out. And what they saw was amazing. The land abounded in the goodness of fruit. Truly flowing with milk and honey.

But there were also mighty adversaries.

When the twelve returned, ten of the men focused on the giant foes instead of the good. The opposing force’s outer might instead of their inner ungodliness. Those ten looked at the Israelites’ weakness, instead of God’s strength. And the words disheartened the people.

Even though two of the spies, Caleb and Joshua, attempted to rally them to God’s promise—his strength and justice. Despite that, the Israelites rioted. Again the chant of, “Let’s head back to Egypt” arose among them. And in the beginning of chapter 14, some even voice their wish to have died in the wilderness.

As if death in the desert was better than life with Yahweh.

And right when the people were about to elect a new leader to bring them back to slavery—right when they were on the verge of totally abandoning the God who’d chosen them to be his special people—Moses, Aaron, Caleb, and Joshua tried to call them back. In the most dramatic of manners the four men cried out to their own people. Faces to the ground and robes torn open, they wept, “Don’t rebel against the Lord.”

The land is good. Abundantly good. Exactly what God has promised. And since the Lord delights in his people, he’ll provide it all. He’s powerful enough to do it.

For we who love stories, it might look like this should be the moment when the Israelites once again see who they are in this whole story. But they’re not the hero of this tale. No, they rise as villains while they pick up weapons to slay the four men who dared to get in their way as they rejected God. They intended to slaughter the four men calling them back to righteousness.

It was truly a bad day.

And in verse 10, we see the glory of the Lord shine in the tent of meeting. His fist clenches in anger as his glory blazes. From the tent, God calls out—for the whole nation to hear—saying all that these people do is reject him. They refuse to trust in his strength and goodness. And because of this, they deserve to be punished and disinherited as his people. He declares that his chosen people can come through the line of Moses instead of those who incessantly reject his leading.

But then, Moses calls out to his God.

The prophet never says that the Israelites don’t deserve this drastic punishment. They absolutely deserve it. They were in the process of disinheriting themselves. What difference would it make if God agreed on his part?

Instead, Moses speaks to God’s name and reputation. He reminds the Lord that the Egyptians know that it was Yahweh who lead the Israelites out of slavery. And the people dwelling in Canaan have heard that God leads this nation with his very presence as a pillar of cloud and fire.

But if God doesn’t deliver his people—if he doesn’t remain loyal to his covenant with them—then what will the Egyptians and the peoples in Canaan say of this God? “He was so powerless that he failed his people. And since he couldn’t deliver the land, he killed them instead. Just to save face.”

With God’s fist set to smite a people who deserved it, Moses stands in that holy glory of Yahweh saying, “That’s not the God who I saw in the cleft of that rock. The one who claimed he was slow to anger and abounding in covenant loyalty and faithfulness. That God forgives all sin. Not in an acquittal that handwaves away evil. But one who will continue to offer forgiveness to all who truly seek it. If they won’t seek it for themselves, I plead for it on their behalf. Please Yahweh, forgive them once again. Just as you have countless times before, during our journey from Egypt. Hear my cry for forgiveness and let it count for all of them.”

With that, God lets out a breath. And we’re reminded that he remains true to his covenant loyalty even on the worst days.

This wasn’t a moment where Moses talked God down. It was God shouting, like a father raising his voice over the chaos of his children in order to get their attention, so that he can then discuss the issue with peaceableness. A momentary spike of volume to cut through riotous noise. Before everything went too far. So that relationship could once again be rightly held with those who are his.

Sure, the people would have to face consequences for their rebellion. Because forgiveness never means a lack of consequences. But it also means that the covenant loyalty and faithfulness of God have been proven. If he forgives those who seek it even on this kind of bad day, then we can be sure he’ll forgive on every other day too.

We witness the same type of forgiveness proven on the very worst day for God. The day Jesus died. The day that God’s creation rejected him so much that they killed him. The day that the Second Person of the Trinity stood as intercessor between the Father and all of humanity saying, “Father, forgive them.”

This is the same God who hears the cry of one person for him to remain loyal to his covenant and faithful to the truth, and then grants forgiveness to all who will accept it.

Yahweh remains faithful to his promise because of his name, his glory. Because if it relied on our faithfulness to him, we’d all be disinherited and smitten into the ground.

So, let’s shout forth that glory. And call others to stop rebelling against God. He’s the one who will forgive, even on the worst of days. If we accept it.