Numbers

Numbers is a book of walking, wandering, and waiting.
The years in the wilderness remind us that there is often a difference between passing through a wilderness season and choosing to live there. Israel wandered one year for every day the spies searched out the land. It is a sobering picture of delay, consequence, and the cost of unbelief.
This painting features the banners I created to represent the twelve tribes. Each banner includes the number of men old enough to go to war when the Israelites entered the wilderness. The tribes are arranged to the north, south, east, and west, according to the order given in the book. I chose the banner colors according to an artist’s color wheel. A couple of years later in my studies, I discovered that the tribes were traditionally associated with actual standards and colors, connected with the gemstones on the priest’s breastplate. By then it was too late to change, and in later paintings I continued using these same tribal colors whenever I knew a person belonged to a particular tribe, matching clothing to banner color.
Although Numbers contains many offerings, sacrifices, laws, duties, and ordinances, I chose not to emphasize those here, since I had already represented that in Leviticus. Instead, I focused on the numbering and arrangement of the people as they prepared to receive their inheritance.
Things did not unfold as planned. Complaining, distrust, disobedience, and strife marked much of the journey. At one point, God sent fiery serpents among the people until Moses interceded for them. As you look around the painting, you will see signs of battle, sickness, the bronze serpent, and Moses standing in the center with outstretched hands, pleading on behalf of the people.
Eventually, the second generation is prepared to move beyond the Jordan.
A rough way to grasp the weight of those wilderness years is to remember that an entire generation passed away there. If well over a million adults were under judgment during those forty years, the number of deaths day after day would have been staggering. The wilderness was not only a place of waiting, but also a place of discipline, consequence, and preparation.