Zelophehad's Daughters

I couldn’t believe it.
This morning in chapel the message is given by a senior student—part of the requirements for graduation. He announces his text from Numbers 27:1-11. It’s the account of the daughters of Zelophehad. How many sermons have we heard from this passage? For most of us—zero.
How is this going to propel him to the top of his class?
The hymn he chooses is “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Does he sense that’s about the only friend he will have at the end of his 30 minutes? And his prayer focuses on the comfort of the Holy Spirit for those most despised and rejected in society—soldiers, HIV/AIDS victims, homeless kids, widows, outcastes. I must say I am a bit nervous for him.
Then he begins to preach. Energy and passion. That’s as it always should be. Preaching is not a lecture on the Bible or its theology. There is a place for that, but not in the pulpit.
He lays the background by inviting us into the story. The congregation is no longer fidgeting. He is preaching as Jesus did—telling a story, a real life account, appealing to our imagination, painting a picture with words. The lessons will be embedded in real life rather than three abstract “points.”
The five daughters are descendants of Joseph, once the prime minister of the super-power of the day—Egypt. Their father has died without any male issue. And this is the basis of their rejection by the Israelites. You are somebody if you have an apportionment in the land about to be possessed. And that land is passed from father to son.
They come, in fear yet boldness as Esther would later do to her king, approaching the ageing Moses—a man not to be trifled with. Their case? “Our father died in the desert.” That means he voted No on the referendum about going up against the giants. He was no Joshua, no Caleb. But, to his credit, “he was not among Korah’s followers. He died in the desert for his own sin.” Korah’s clan had been cursed for open insurrection against Moses, and thus against Yahweh. Yet the people were rejecting these daughters as rebels who had no standing—no right to an inheritance of land, assuming their father had taken part in that rebellion. In other words, society was telling them their plight was all their fault—they deserved it.
“Our father had no son. Give us property among our relatives.” Cheeky women.
In those days other nations acknowledged that the king owned all the territory with his favorites serving as landlords. No one dared claim acreage as his own. Israel, by contrast, was ahead of the times. Their king was God Almighty—he owned everything. And God decreed that all his subjects should have a piece of land they could call their own and thus live in dignity and independence. And every 50 years, if property had been bargained away to pay debts, all of it should revert to the original owners—the Year of Jubilee.
Moses decides to ask Yahweh, God Almighty, about it. The answer is shocking. “Give these fatherless and brotherless sisters property among their father’s relatives.”
The preacher has us engrossed; his word painting is gripping, even though his English is at best so-so. The story is sweeping us along.
Next he applies it to Indian society, where women, if poor, are nothing—often treated as mere sex objects. Children are street kids. Low castes are dirt. The church must stand for these, for God favors their rights to an inheritance of Indian soil.
Then his conclusion. Always end with a story within the story if you can.
“When I was a youth, my Mom and I went to a church service for New Year, invited by some Christian neighbors. We came home late and went to bed. About 3 AM I awoke at the sound of crying. Arising, I followed to the sound. It was Mom. Dad was beating her. “Are you going to choose this Jesus or your family? Not both—choose!” But she could not reply. She was unconscious. I said to Dad ‘What you are doing is wrong.’ But he turned and said he would kill me. I expected I would not see the sunrise again.”
“In a few days my father’s wealth began to fade. He soon lost the house and we had to rent. His business collapsed. Soon he was down to 50,000 rupees. But when I decided God was calling me to train as a pastor God changed his heart. Dad provided half of all his assets—25,000 ($12,000) for my fees and boasts to everyone that his son is going to be a pastor.”
As we bow in prayer we hear a soft reprise of the hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. “Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer. In his arms he’ll take and shield thee. Thou wilt find a solace there.”
We rise for a benediction.
Today’s daughters of Zelophehad populate so much of India and the nations—rejected like so much rubbish by the world. But Yahweh says, “What they are saying is right. Give them an inheritance among their Father’s relatives.”
It’s matter of justice. And God is watching.