(It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.)
Deuteronomy 1:2 (NIV)
In the fall of 2003, I made a trip to Israel with my boss and long-time mentor. It was never meant to be a simple vacation. Chuck, who founded our business along with his late wife, Charleen, was planning to retire from the business at the end of 2004. My colleague Scott and I would be taking it over. Chuck had discipled both Scott and me as young men in high school and college. We’d journeyed together in life and business for many years, and the transfer of the business that Chuck and Charleen founded was a major milestone. Chuck wanted to go to Israel, to share the experience together, and to pray over the next phase of our shared journey.
I have many fond memories of that trip. In particular, I remember sitting atop Mount Arbel on the north west of the Sea of Galilee. When Jesus went up on a mountain to pray, I have to believe Mount Arbel was at least one of the places. It affords a panoramic view of the Sea of Galilee.
Today we begin the book of Deuteronomy. It is the last of the five books of Moses, known also as the Torah, or what Jews refer to as “The Law.” The word Deuteronomy means “second telling.” It’s a repeat of the story thus far since the book of Exodus, which for modern readers is a bit of a head scratcher. Especially those poor souls who made their New Year’s resolution to read through the Bible cover-to-cover and have already slogged through Leviticus and Numbers.
“What!? The same thing all over again? Are you kidding me?!”
I suspect no small number of New Year’s Bible-reading resolutions die somewhere in early Deuteronomy. But, context is everything. Sometimes, those stories your grandparents bored you with as a child take on new meaning forty years later in life when you have grandchildren of your own.
As Deuteronomy opens, Moses and the Hebrew tribes are standing on the shore of the River Jordan in the land of Moab. Across the Jordan is the Promised Land. They have been here before, but that was 40 years ago. The people to whom Moses is speaking are not the same Hebrews who stood here then. This is a new generation. Some were babies and little children. Many had not been born. God has brought them here to claim the very promise their parents and grandparents once stood poised to inherit. Moses is retiring. He will not go with them. Joshua is taking over leadership of the company.
For the young Hebrews looking at the sun sparkle off the water of the Jordan River and gazing at the land beyond, the Story is not a boring rehash. It’s memory as mentorship. This is Moses saying, “I love you enough to tell the truth about where we’ve been… so you do not repeat it.”
Jewish sages see this passage as a parental moment. A loving father preparing his children for spreading their wings and taking flight on their own. And one of the main themes in the retelling is how fear short-circuits faith and destiny. They’d been right here 40 years ago. But, their parents and grandparents were afraid. They were afraid because fear choked out the courage to follow God into the land He promised. Even though God had delivered them from Egypt, had miraculously appeared on the mountain and given the Law, had miraculously led them every step of the way with a pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day as guides.
At the very beginning of the chapter, Moses adds a parenthetical that stands out like a sore thumb in the text. It doesn’t fit in the flow:
(It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.)
Moses is making a cheeky point. What could and should have been an eleven day trip has taken them 40 years to bring them to this place in this moment — because they were afraid to follow God into the Promised Land. Forty years in the wilderness was not so much punishment as it was spiritual formation. Along my journey I’ve learned that God does not just pass students onto the next grade if they haven’t learned the required lessons. Some souls spend their entire earthly lives repeating spiritual Kindergarten, never quite trusting the Teacher enough to move on.
I suppose that’s why my thoughts drift back to Mount Arbel—memory as mentorship, then and now. In the quiet this morning, I feel the wind whipping across the top of Mount Arbel. I stare out across the Sea of Galilee out of which flows the Jordan River. I remember Chuck, Scott, and I praying about our own moment of transition.
Will I have faith to step into God’s promise, or will I flee in fear?
“Do not be afraid,” Moses said to them. This phrase will be used more in the book of Deuteronomy than any other book in the Great Story. It is a father, a mentor lovingly urging those he’s loved and raised to embrace faith over their fears, to learn the lessons of the past, and to step into the promises God has spoken over their future.
What a great reminder as I step into another week, as I step into the final month of 2025, and as I stand on the precipice of a new year in which I will begin the seventh decade of my earthly journey. I don’t think this trek through Deuteronomy will be mindless repetition. I think it holds spiritual truths that will be essential for the road ahead.
So I lace ’em up again—heart steady, spirit willing. Here we go. I hope you’ll join me on the journey.
Have a great day, my friend.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
