In the first month the whole Israelite community arrived at the Desert of Zin, and they stayed at Kadesh. There Miriam died and was buried.
Now there was no water for the community…
Numbers 20:1-2a (NIV)
Wendy and I have enjoyed having our grandson, Milo, with us this week as he attends Drama Camp at our local Community Theatre. Last night Taylor and Sylvie drove down to spend the night, as well. It’s so good to have them in the house. Wendy and I enjoyed chatting with Taylor about all sorts of things late into the evening last night. It reminds me of late evening conversations I used to have with my mom who crossed Jordan and entered the Promised Land just over two years ago. I miss her.
As I continue to progress along this life journey, I’ve been able to glance back and realize just how far I’ve come. There are many different areas of life in which I have grown in knowledge and wisdom, but among the places I feel I’ve grown the most is in my knowledge of and appreciation for women. I have noted many times before that God saw fit to surround me with women. I now look back at my younger self with empathy and a touch of pity for all of my ignorance and misunderstanding when it came to the fairer sex and all things feminine.
Today’s chapter begins with the death of Miriam, Moses’ and Aaron’s elder sister. She was the caretaker and watcher of her baby brother when she launched him into the river and watched him be taken in by Pharaoh’s daughter. She risked herself to make sure Moses not only lived, but thrived. Miriam brings the victory song after the parting of the Red Sea and the defeat of the Egyptian army, leading the women in song, dance, and celebration. Miriam is the first woman named a prophetess in the Great Story. Miriam is an amazing lady, yet as with most women in the Great Story, I’ve observed that she doesn’t get the respect she deserves. This is especially true in the traditions in which I’ve traveled along this earthly journey.
In Jewish tradition, Miriam is understood and celebrated to have a much larger role in the Story. In fact, both orthodox and mystical Jewish traditional hold Miriam up with honor. In their tradition, Miriam joins Moses and Aaron as a trinity of siblings through whom God uses equally to provide and channel what is essential for His fledgling nation. Specifically, they name the clouds of glory, manna, and “Miriam’s well.”
After the briefly delivered news of Miriam’s death abruptly begins today’s chapter, the very next verse says, “Now, there was no water for the community…” that was wandering in the desert. Jewish tradition holds that these are not separate facts in the retelling, but cause and effect. Miriam the prophetess was the channel and her well was the divine source of water for the Hebrews. It was like a rolling rock or portable stream that followed them as they wandered, channeling a stream of life-giving water and sustenance to each of the twelve tribes.
Moses was busy separating oceans and walking in thunder at the top of the mountain. Aaron was swinging incense and the center of the sacrificial, ritual spectacle. Miriam, quiet and unassuming, was humbly providing nourishment and sustenance for every day life on the journey. Suddenly, I hear the song of Bob Dylan in my heart and head. It’s Just Like a Woman.
Miriam represents the divine feminine that is equally a part of who God is though I’ve observed that it makes some people squeamish to consider the truth of this. Miriam brings to the Exodus story courage, prophetic vision, song, dance, rhythm, water, and nurture. When Miriam exits, the water dries up. This wasn’t a coincidence. God is going to provide water, but the brief drought reminds the Hebrew people who Miriam was and all that she brought to their community and to their stories. As they say, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
And, this meditation on Miriam and her resourceful, feminine touch brings even more meaning to the events later in the chapter when God tells Moses to speak to the rock (speaking is such a feminine thing) so that it begins producing water and instead Moses strikes the rock with his staff (such a male way to handle things). Oh, Miriam, how you will be missed.
As Jews gather each year to continue celebrating the Passover meal as they have done for thousands of years, it has become common among many to place “the cup of Miriam” (filled with water) on the table next to “the cup of Elijah” (filled with wine).
In the quiet this morning, I find myself gratefully meditating on Miriam. She is the song before the sermon… the heartbeat before the battle… the whisper of a lullaby in a land of wails. She represents a sacred feminine force that doesn’t dominate but co-creates, that doesn’t rule through law but leads through love, rhythm, servant-heartedness, and remembrance.
I find myself thinking about my own journey, and my own story. I have been raised and rooted among strong, soulful women, and so I have an appreciation for what Miriam brought. I feel it in my bones. I’ve heard her song in lullabies, in choir lofts, at kitchen tables over coffee. Miriam isn’t just a character in the Great Story—she’s in the women who shaped me, the women who continue shaping the man I am today.
Note: I will be out next week traveling on business and then taking a few days to be with our kids and granddaughter. Lord willing, I’ll pick up this chapter-a-day journey on Monday, August 18th. If you need a fix, feel free to visit this page, pick a book, and enjoy the posts. Have a great week!
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
