The Five Fearless Sisters

Part 2 of Tending the Tapestry

Jun 21, 2025

This is the second installment of the Tending the Tapestry series. Tending the Tapestry examines empowering stories of women in the Old Testament and how they shape and enrich our faith today.

Imaginative Prayer Narrative based on Numbers 27:1-11

Dawn’s fingers have yet to brush our tent. The ache of worry roused all five of us in the night, and we met in a huddle of cloaks and sleeping mats that resembles our games from childhood. Mahlah, my oldest sister, speaks first. “It is the right thing to do. We must fight for justice, if we don’t speak now, then who will?”

I nod. Mahlah’s bravery, strength and fiery spirit are what has protected us in these months since our father’s passing. Five daughters, no sons. Zelophehad had been a good father, loving and attentive in a way that I now know is not common of an Israelite man repeatedly denied a son to carry his name.

My second oldest sister, Noah, breaks into my reverie. “Yes, we have all agreed to this course of action. But we must go about asking in the right way. We do not have the law on our side, women have never inherited land. This is unprecedented and requires careful thought.”

Sweet Noah, ever the voice of wisdom, is scoffed at by Hoglah, her junior by only a year.

“Careful thought? This will require the voice of the Lord. Moses could refuse to even bring our plea to the tabernacle, he could deny us outright.” Hoglah’s mind is quick, and though she agrees with our plan, the endless issues she raises are reasonable.

“I believe the Lord will side with us.” Says our youngest sister, Tirzah. Born a full three years after me, Tirzah was my parent’s last hope for a boy. Her quiet confidence speaks to both her own faith and her desire to quell the raising emotions in our tent. I wrap my arm around her slender shoulders, “Your faith – all our faith – is why we will move forward.”

“Yes, yes, Milcah, but what about our uncles, huh? We still haven’t decided whether to tell them. Time is running out; the census should end today.” Hoglah, ever the pragmatist, states.

“No, if we tell them we plan to appeal for an inheritance in father’s name, they will deny us our right to speak. And even if we somehow do gain an audience with Moses, it will give our uncles time to formulate reasons to oppose it.” Mahlah says with conviction.

“And when we’re denied? Left without inheritance or loving family members to take us in? What then, sister?” spats Hoglah.

“Shhh, shhh.” Soothes Noah. “You both have good points, but what could they really do at this stage? If we approach Moses today, they have no time to meet and discuss how to block us. You know how the uncles are, it would take them days to even decide which tent would host a meeting. The aunties know, or at least suspect our plans, why don’t we each visit an uncle and explain our reasons this morning?” Noah, an expert at keeping the peace, fails to see the danger in this plan.

“Noah, we can’t take the risk of an uncle holding one of us back from the census.” I say, with a hand on her knee to soften the words. “They are good men, but this plan to appeal for a female land inheritance will shake them. It will mean less land for their families and could affect the entire Manassite tribe’s inheritance. We don’t know how they will react.”

Noah nods, looking down in disappointment.

Tirzah speaks up, taking Noah’s hand, “We will tell them we plan to speak at the assembly. Right before we walk forward. That way they are warned, but we don’t have to separate from one another to inform them.”

All five of us nod in confirmation of this plan. We love our family; our uncles and tribe have treated us with kindness and compassion since our father’s passing. But how they react when we ask for our own portion of land when we enter the promised land, is a mystery to us all. A woman receiving a land inheritance is unheard of, land passes through the male line. That is how the tribes retain their land holdings, that is how the brothers of our father assume his portion of the land will be divided.

Our grandparent’s generation lacked the faith to trust that we would see the promised land at all, that is why they were excluded from it. Our father was raised with the pain of knowing his parents’ faith had wavered, so he modeled and taught us a devotion to God that could rival even a Levite. We know the promised land approaches, and our faith demands justice: the name of our father, a man whose faith was strong, will be bestowed on an allotment of the promised land.

The enrollment was a long and dusty business. Moses and the priest, Eleazar, were taking a census of all Israelite men over 20 years of age and organizing the numbers by tribe. This was how we would prepare for battle and how the land allotments would be allocated once we arrived in the promised land. Without a man to fight in my father’s name, we would receive no land, and his name would die with him.

This was the final day of enrollment, and Moses and Eleazar stood at the entrance to the tent of meeting looking weary and drained.

We had decided I would be the one to tell our uncles. I was neither blunt, like Mahlah or Hoglah, nor overly gentle like Noah and Tirzah. As a fourth daughter, I did not phrase statements as a question or a bid for permission. I simply walked up to our uncles stated, “We are presenting an appeal to Moses.” Their faces mirrored one another in shock. But before they could reply, Mahlah took Noah’s hand, who grabbed Hoglah’s, who clasped mine, with Tirzah already clutching my other hand.

Mahlah took the lead, weaving throughout the clans and people with her chain of sisters behind her. As I turned from our bewildered uncles, I glimpsed the aunties. None of their faces showed shock, all looked to us, their eyes steady, hopeful.

As we approached Moses and Eleazar, my eyes caught the glance of a little girl, no older than 10, who stood with her arms wrapped around a younger sister. Our gazes held one another’s; two women supported by our sisters. This petition, it was not just for me and my sisters. It was for all women, all girls who had been told – in words or deeds – that they could not carry the legacy of their father. That their worth was less than a son’s.

I think of my mother’s soft words as we drifted to sleep each night as children, “You are my joys, my hope, my girls.” She and father treasured each of us. They would have wanted this for us, for all of us.

Mahlah pushes through to the front of the crowd and we file in through the gap she created until we stand shoulder to shoulder. Our hands remain clasped together and sweat beads on our foreheads. We have discussed this moment for months. How we will not plead, we will not beg. Instead, we will stand, as strong Israelite women, and speak our case with humility and strength. The same way we will face the consequences or joys of God’s response through Moses.

Mahlah’s takes a steadying breath, the air itself seems weighted with anticipation, and her voice rings out, “Our father died in the wilderness; he was not among the company of those who gathered themselves together against the Lord in the company of Korah, but died for his own sin; and he had no sons. Why should the name of our father be taken away from his clan because he had no son? Give to us a possession among our father’s brothers.” (Numbers 27:3-4)

Utter silence. Not a word is spoken in the crowd. A baby whines but is hastily shushed. Moses looks at us each, heads held high, hands uniting us. Then he turns his gaze to Eleazar, a silent conversation transpires in their long look. Moses looks to his left, finding his wife Zipporah in the crowd. She too holds her head upright, meeting his eyes with confidence, she nods once and smiles. Looking into the dirt at his feet, Moses seems torn. He could turn us away, citing the laws of inheritance. But something in his expression softens, and I wonder if he thinks of Miriam, his late sister. She was a woman of deep faith, of courage, of justice. Miriam would have wanted this too.

“I will ask it of the Lord” he states. And he disappears into the tabernacle behind him.

Whispers erupt behind us, hisses and exclamations that claim the once heavy silence. But we are still, quiet, calm. Though our insides writhe in concern, our hands clasped together give us strength. ‘He is a just and loving God,’ I think, as I pray and plead our case in silence.

I’m not sure how much time passes in this way, but when Moses walks out, I feel my own heart skip a beat. In a move uncommon for our stoic leader, he looks directly at me and smiles. It’s a fatherly gesture, one of pride and favor. I hardly have time to register this before he looks to the crowd and states:

“The Lord said to me, ‘The daughters of Zelophehad are right in what they are saying; you shall indeed let them possess an inheritance among their father’s brothers and pass the inheritance of their father on to them. You shall also say to the Israelites, “If a man dies, and has no son, then you shall pass his inheritance on to his daughter. If he has no daughter, then you shall give his inheritance to his brothers. ¹If he has no brothers, then you shall give his inheritance to his father’s brothers. And if his father has no brothers, then you shall give his inheritance to the nearest kinsman of his clan, and he shall possess it. It shall be for the Israelites a statute and ordinance.’” (Numbers 27:7-11)

I feel tears stream down my face. The hands gripping Hoglah and Tirzah are pulled as Hoglah collapses to the ground in shock and Tirzah yanks me into a hug. Noah openly weeps as she helps Hoglah rise. Only Mahlah stands perfectly still. A beacon of justice. She nods and offers our gratitude to Moses and God. If you didn’t know her well, you might assume she had expected this outcome; that her certainty came from an ideal of justice. But I know her better than that, and when she turns to the crowd her hands shake ever so slightly. Her tell of nerves and relief.

It's at this moment that the little girl I saw earlier launches herself from the crowd, straight into Malah’s arms. “I have all sisters too!” she screams. And Malah holds her tightly to her chest, face buried in the little one’s curly mane of hair, and weeps.

Through Threads

The heart of Numbers 27:1-11 is faith and how it inspires us to appeal for justice. To give a little context, this story would fall into the scriptural category of judicial invocation and innovation. As the book of Numbers recounts the census of the Israelites, conducted before they approach the promised land, this chapter offers a zoomed in perspective on one interesting case that rewrote the inheritance laws to include women.

The Daughters of Zelophehad appealed the law of inheritance due to their concern for their father’s legacy. Scripture frames this reasoning by opening with a long genealogy of their family, emphasizing that this family line was an illustrious one which should not simply die out. In ancient Israelite society, the passing on of a family name was through a landholding male. Staking a claim to a plot of land solidified your legacy. The slight irony here is that these claims to land were all in the future tense. The Israelites still needed to cross the Jordan and defeat the people living in the Promised Land before they could attain these land allotments. This is what unites the second through thread of faith to the element of justice.

Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah showed deep faith not only in the promises of God concerning the promised land, but also in God’s justice and care for women. In a patriarchal, clan-based society, the well-being of these five sisters depended fully on their male relatives. We could get technical with an explanation of levirate law, but we’ll save that for Ruth and Tamar’s stories; suffice it to say: women’s survival depended on marriage or male relatives. As the census concludes and future land holdings are divvied up between the families within each tribe, the appeal of the daughters of Zelophehad for their father’s share of land would decrease the land allocated for their male relatives. Essentially, one piece of manna is now split 5 ways instead of 4.

The passage in scripture does not touch on the familial tension inherent in their request, but I chose to highlight it in my narrative because I believe it emphasizes the bravery and faith of these women. Not only could Moses have immediately turned them away, but also their uncles could have felt slighted by their request and refused to provide for them due to it. Yet, even with this possibility of destitution, the sisters came forward seeking justice. They boldly approached Moses and Eleazar, risking their livelihood and security, to ask for land the Israelites did not yet have. Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah were sure of what they hoped for and certain of what they could not see. (Hebrews 11:1)

The downfall of the previous generation came from their lack of faith in God’s promise to deliver the land to them (Numbers 14:20-23). Even Moses is denied entry to the promised land due to his lack of faith (Numbers 20), in fact this story marks the final time Moses seeks the Lord’s counsel on a matter of jurisdiction.[1] Yet, in this chapter, we see the mirror image of the previous generation in the daughters of Zelophehad who have such steady faith in God’s promises that they appeal the law in order to attain an allotment on the promised land.

Within the hearts of these faithful, fearless sisters lies a deep trust that their forefathers lacked; God rewards not only their faith but also that of all the daughters of Israel through His reconstruction of the law of inheritance. From this story, we can learn the power of faith in acts of justice.

Two textually interesting details, for those of you who enjoy a good textual twist. When God replies to Moses, he inserts an imperative emphasis. Translated as, “indeed” (NRSVCE), “surely” (KJV), “certainly” (NASB), or “by all means” (CEB), this phrase emphasizes the statement “let them possess an inheritance among their father’s brothers and pass the inheritance of their father on to them” (Numbers 27: 7). I love this detail because there is a sense of God adamantly agreeing to the sisters’ appeal, not merely acquiescing but affirming. This story directly leads us to stories throughout the New Testament of Jewish women owning property and using it to further the mission of Christ and the early church - Martha, Lydia, Susanna, Joanna, Phoebe and more!

Additionally, we can find the conclusion of this story in Joshua 17:3-4 when we see the sisters remind Eleazar of Moses’s instruction from God to give them land, and they receive it – after which, I picture a huge feast they host to celebrate their father’s legacy living on!

So, we are once again at the point of ‘what does this mean for me?’ Both the threads of justice and faith are important and vital to this narrative, but the tapestry is formed when they are woven together. Our faith should move us to justice, to action, to movement that creates change for the betterment of all.

Which leads me to ask: How do we educate ourselves on the injustice of our current society? Are we listening to the cries of those who call for justice? Are we willing to trust God even if it means changing our laws and way of doing things to include fairness for all people?

And most importantly: is your faith pushing you to pursue justice? And what will you do about it?

My prayer is that the story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah will inspire each of us in our faith and light the spark of justice within our hearts, moving us forward to action like the daughters of Zelophehad.

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Reflection: A Prayer for Courage in the face of injustice

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God of our foremothers, 
Who knit bravery into the hearts of –
Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah.
We praise you for their legacy of courage in the face of injustice. 

We ask for their faith – to speak truth and wisdom. 
We ask for their spirit of invocation – to seek change. 
We ask for their sisterhood – to support one another 
And create a better world for all. 

Work in our hearts as you did theirs, 
Set alight the flame of justice, 
Grant us the words to speak, 
And the community with whom to join hands. 

Give us eyes to see those who suffer, 
Ears that hear the cries of the forgotten, 
Hands to serve and aid the outsiders, 
And hearts that love like you first loved us. 

You are a just and loving God. 

Help us emulate Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. 
In their courage, 
In their appeal for justice, 
In their unwavering faith in You. 

Amen.

The Five Fearless Sisters

Part 2 of Tending the Tapestry

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