by Karen Wood

I do so hate getting sidetracked. Especially if there’s a short, straight line to the finish. My son calls while I’m on my way to the mailbox? Forget it. My husband tries to steal a kiss when I’m cooking? OK, but make it fast. The phone rings when I just sat down at my desk? Ugh. This part of Kings introduces the abominable Ahab, Israel’s own Wicked Wizard of the West. What gets my attention in this passage today is the otherwise unknown Hiel and the eerie words about the cost of his construction project. As I’ve been ruminating on this short footnote of history, I am shocked to see someone who is apparently far more determined to avoid interruption than I.

Long before Ahab came to power, when Israel first entered the land of Canaan, Joshua began the conquest by completely sacking Jericho. This is the city we’ve all sung about, with the walls that miraculously came a-tumblin’ down. After he “fit the battle,” Joshua himself pronounced a curse over the ruins, making them a perpetual reminder of the Israelites’ entry into the promised land: the one who re-laid Jericho’s foundations would pay with his firstborn, and whoever put up the gates would do so at the cost of his youngest (Joshua 6:26).

Five hundred years is a long time to remember a curse, but these things have a way of hanging around. Perhaps the old story was told around the fire at night with a raised eyebrow or a wagging finger. People did live where Jericho had been, but no one had ever dared to rebuild the ancient fortifications that would once again make the city a stronghold. Until Ahab! It’s been suggested that Hiel’s story being placed here so close to Ahab’s installation shows that Ahab was the one who ordered the old fortress repaired. And why not? Jericho was a border town and significant for a nation trying to preserve its order through military might rather than the power of God. So Ahab had the ancient testimony to God’s supernatural care obliterated for the cause of urban renewal and national security. Great idea.

Whatever did Hiel think, going into this job? Did he, too, regard the old curse as just a superstition, as something that had no relevance to his life? And when the family heard about the project, did the sons fret, or just write it off? Surely, when Abiram, the heir of the family, died, it must have given them all pause. But I doubt that Ahab even once thought, “That death could have been prevented. It was, in fact, my fault.” Ahab apparently wanted the job finished no matter what. So, ok, no family members on the construction site! Extra vitamins for Segub! But in the end, Hiel paid with his second son.

And me, in my jobs, every day I’m making choices too. Good ones, bad ones. And every day I’m resisting being interrupted. I hate starting over! What do you want to say to me today, Lord? Am I going in the right direction? Am I listening? I don’t like it, and I absolutely cringe to say it: please interrupt me when I’m on the wrong track. Here I am. I’m yours. Give me ears to hear, and willingness to stop and re-evaluate when you speak. Amen.

Some of the background information here was gleaned from the Rev. Adrian Dieleman.

Your fellow traveler,
Karen