God never has liked bullies.

He's opposed to all forms of evil, to be sure, but he seems to find the abuse of power,

especially insufferable. Perhaps it's the way he manages his own might. If he, the omnipotent one, can

exude unceasing mercy and grace, surely you ought to be able to manage whatever tiny scrap of power

you end up with in your hands. This is a story about oppression, about the oppressed, about the oppressor, and about the

God who is not blind to the mistreatment of the powerless.

It's a story about that God turning the tables on a nasty bully, making it clear that cruelty will not go unpunished

forever.

I'm Justin Gerhardt.

Welcome to Holy Ghost Stories.

Thank you. I'm The As the sun emerges from behind the eastern hills, the road between Gilgal and Jericho bustles with merchants and travelers.

Most of them headed with their figs or their furs, their sandals, or their cinnamon, their tin,

or their copper, to Jericho.

The city of Palms, everyone calls it.

And Jericho does not disappoint in this regard.

Its famous palm trees lined the streets like sentinels, their strong trunks and long-arcing fronds washed in golden morning light.

Certain palms are known to live for a hundred years.

That's long enough for a handful of these trees to have witnessed that fateful day about a century ago when Yahweh brought down

the walls and gave the city to a new people. Meanwhile, outside of Jericho, closer to Gilgall,

that same golden light is broken by the long shadows cast across the road by the sacred stones,

a series of sculpted limestone monuments devoted to the pagan deities of the people to the east of the Jordan, deities

now, heartbreakingly, worshipped by so many formerly monotheistic Israelites.

...