Cozbi: The Midianite Affair, Part 2

As the eldest child of tribal chief Zur, I took my responsibilities seriously. I would help my father when he had to judge cases. I helped to maintain peace in our tribe. I knew how to care for livestock. And when I would pray to Asherah for fertile soil she would always answer my prayers.

One day my father came to me frazzled and afraid. A foreign nation was settling in our land, he said. He feared war. I advised him that we should try to make peace with them – to befriend them and teach them about our culture and our gods. He was skeptical, but I asked him if my judgement had ever failed him before and, confessing that it hadn’t, he relented.

The gentle and beautiful women who helped me with worship services also helped me with my new project. We waited by the well until a small group of men, strong and dirty from traveling in the desert, approached and asked us for a drink. We gave them generous amounts of clean water, and they lapped it up eagerly. As they drank, we asked them who they were and why they were here. They called themselves “Israelites.” They said they served the “one true god,” and that he told them where they were to camp through a pillar of cloud. I had never heard anything as outlandish as serving only one god! But I was intrigued and wanted to learn more.

I was not the only one who was intrigued by these strangers. My women were very attracted to them, and the feeling was mutual. Soon, the strangers were coming to see our worship ceremonies. And then they began sleeping with our women. This gave me a wonderful idea. It would guarantee political harmony between the two communities if we were to intermarry! I presented the idea to my father and my friends, and they agreed. Soon, my friends were taking home with them the men who no longer seemed like strangers.

“Cozbi,” my father said to me one day, “some of the foreign people seem friendly and open to your idea of peace. But their leaders seem angry with us. I fear that without a strong political alliance, war is immanent. You are a woman now, it is time that you marry.” I knew that he was right, so I went and sat by the well again, this time by myself.

After waiting for a while, a man approached me and asked for water. I fetched him some, and as he drank I asked him about himself. He said his name was Zimri, son of Salu. I asked him if it was true that some of his people’s leaders were angry with us. He told me that, yes, his religious leaders were upset. They didn’t want their people following foreign gods.

We talked until the sun began to set. I found that I truly enjoyed Zimri’s company. He was smart and he listened to all I had to say. He was kind and his laugh put me at ease. His eyes were soft, but I couldn’t tell if they were soft with sorrow or desire. Perhaps both.

“It is getting dark,” he said as he stood, “I should be going.”

I stood, knowing that he was right. As I began to walk away he asked, “Would you like to come with me?”

I gazed back at him, stunned. Rather than answer his question directly, I said, “You know, if we were married, we could secure political peace between our people.”

Still looking me in the eyes he grinned. “Is that a yes?”

I couldn’t help myself. I smiled back. “That’s a yes.”

Holding my hand, Zimri guided me to his camp. As we approached, he suddenly stopped walking and told me to be quiet. The religious leaders of his people were seated just outside the tent where they offered sacrifices to their god, and he was afraid that they might see us together. In the dusk, if we were quiet, they might not notice us. Zimri led me around the tent, staying far enough away that we would not be heard.

When we reached Zimri’s tent, we held each other. I lay looking up at his face, just above mine, and smiled as I thought of the peace I had secured for my people. And if all Israelites were as kind and smart as Zimri, then I had also forged a great alliance. Pride and love and wonder at the surprises of life filled me, and just as I was thinking that I had never been happier, someone lunged in through the entrance to the tent and thrust a spear into Zimri’s back. There was so much force behind the weapon that it pierced him all the way through and into my belly. I held Zimri’s face, so filled with light only moments ago, now gone grey in my hands. I felt the wound in my abdomen. I screamed with pain and fear and confusion and profound loss. I felt the spear ripped out, Zimri’s body falling limply to the side, and the spear striking me again, screaming all the while.

And then everything went black.

Numbers 25

Read the Midianite Affair: Part 1 here