BALAAM'S SERVANT

Numbers 22: 1-35 

My feet are killing me.  It's been a long, tiring, hot and dusty journey. But I'm just a lowly servant  - I can't speak, I can't voice an opinion, I can't even moan about my aching feet. I just have to go where I'm told to go and do what I'm told to do.

 

This is a journey I have grave misgivings about. I've heard lots of rumours; they don't call me big ears for nothing. I wasn't involved but I've heard that two groups of distinguished visitors came to seek audience with the Master, the second group even more distinguished than the first. Rumour has it that they came with a message from Barack king of Moab, requesting the Master’s services in cursing the Israelites who were enemies of his people.

 

The Master had the good sense to refuse them the first time, but the second group offered rewards too tempting to turn down, so we are on our way back with them.

 

If you keep your ear to the ground you know that the Israelites are protected by a very powerful God and I can't see that he's going to be very happy about this journey; as I said, I have grave misgivings about it. But I just plod along and do as I'm told as always.

 

Until, that is, I get the fright of my life. Something, someone is blocking the road, someone so bright I have to screw up my eyes to see, but I can't fail to see the sword in his hand. I veer off into a field to protect the Master - and myself if I'm honest - and I get beaten for my trouble. What did he expect me to do, get us killed? I wish I could ask, but I can't, so I allow myself to be beaten back onto the road and carry on.

 

To my great relief the angel -  if that's what it was - has gone now, and we can continue on the road. But it's a short reprieve, we've not travelled far and the angel is barring the path again. This time I'm in a narrow place between two walls and as I squash to one side to try and get past, the Master’s foot gets crushed. He beats me again. Why on earth?…....................... but then suddenly, astonished, I understand. He can't see it! He's blind to this bright shining apparition in front of him so he doesn't know he's in danger. 

 

And now the angel has appeared for a third time and there's no room to escape.  I admit defeat and lie down and endure my third beating of the day.

 

But what happens next is unsurpassed by any surprise I've had or will ever have in my life; I've been given a voice, I can speak and be understood and speak I will.

 “What have I done to you to make you beat me these three times?”

“You have made a fool of me!” the Master says, “If only I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you right now.”

 

 And so all my years of faithful service count for nothing. And yet for once I have a voice. “Am I not your own donkey, which you have always ridden, to this day?” I say, “Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?”  “No,” he says. He doesn't seem surprised I'm talking to him.

 

But now he's surprised and afraid, because now he can see what I've been seeing all along and he's down on the floor lower than I am. And the angel is telling him that the only reason he's still alive is because of me.

 

I'm hoping there might be a few extra oats in it for me. And wait till I tell Doris and Delaney I've found my voice at last  -  they'll be so envious, either that or they'll think I've been feasting on fermented apples.