Covetousness: Achan's Theft of Jericho's Spoils
By Julia McNair Wright
The whole manner of Achan’s crime showed that covetousness was a habit with him. He was so secret, so wary, so persistent, so utterly obstinate, about his deed. As he went up, sword in hand, over the prostrate wall, he came to the dwelling of a great man of Jericho, perhaps even to the palace of the king. The greedy eye of Achan was alert for plunder. He had not laid it to heart that Jericho was accursed, and all its gold and silver were consecrated to the Lord, and were to be brought into the sanctuary, purged by fire, and converted to sacred use. The wealth of Jericho was the gain of vice and oppression. Its treasures were sacred to Baal and Ashtaroth: now the wrath of man was to redound to the glory of the God of Heaven, and the spoils of the idols were to decorate the sanctuary of the King of kings. Looking eagerly about him, keeping guard neither over his eyes nor the lusts of his heart, Achan saw a noble trophy. Before him lay a right royal robe, a Babylonish garment. Even when he is about to die for its sake, it is so precious in his eyes that, with a miser’s relish, he calls it “a goodly Babylonish garment.” “It was,” says Josephus, “woven entirely of gold, fit for a king.” Near this garment were two hundred shekels of silver, probably in some wrought purse or bag, and a wedge of gold, in weight, fifty shekels. Achan at once desired these for his own possession; he did not consider how worthily they would grace the Tabernacle; he did not remember that they were already the Lord’s, and that the eye of their Owner was fixed on him. “Will a man rob God? But ye have robbed me, saith the Lord of hosts.” We see that Achan was a true miser, one who loved treasure for its own sake, not on account of what he could do with it. There is a vast difference between these two classes. The world unites in execrating men who get gold to gloat over it in secret; to cherish it, and cling to it, and love it like a human thing. Others gather money with equal avidity, but they get it as the means of amassing treasures of art and literature; of securing education, and lavishing beautiful gifts on their families and friends. If they add to this, that as they get they give; that their money is a fountain whence flow a hundred rills of blessing to the needy, and which make the waste places of the church bloom like the rose, then men rejoice in their success, as the securing of a positive good. Achan loved the golden garment, the silver shekels, and the shining wedge for themselves. He at once appropriated them to his own use, and made all speed to his tent to hide them. His family, as we learn from the sequel, were like-minded with himself. They shared his doom; and, as God is just, it is evident that they shared his crime. A trench was dug in the earth under the tent of Achan, and there they hid away God’s property, the consecrated first-fruits of the spoils of Canaan. Achan had plenty of time to deliberate, to repent, to make restitution, but he had no idea of doing either; he gloated over his booty. Before long, he began to see the effect of his sin, for his people were smitten at Ai; and instead of coming again in triumph, the defeated army returned, rending the air with their cries, and bringing the dead bodies of thirty-six warriors. Shame and confusion of face were Israel’s portion. In thirty-six tents the wailing women took up the lamentations for the dead. The “hearts of all the people melted and became as water.” Joshua, with torn garments and disheveled locks, lay weeping on his face before the ark of God. The seventy elders of Israel put dust on their reverend heads, and refused to be comforted. Achan knew why this blow had fallen; he saw the chiefs of his own tribe, Nabshon and Zabdi, lamenting thus before offended God, and he knew well that the root of all this bitterness was golden, and planted in the earth in the midst of his tent. Still he did not repent. It was open to him to confess and to restore; but no, he valued his treasure more than the lives and happiness of his people, more even than the fate of his nation. His sin can not be hidden, and God becomes his accuser. The meaning of the disaster is made plain: There is a sinner in Israel.—“Saints and Sinners of the Bible,” by Mrs. Julia McNair Wright.