Worse than Sodom

Judges 19-20

            What a disgusting story! Let’s start with the concubine. First, she’s not his wife. There’s no mention of a wife. Maybe she died. Who knows? But this Levite has not honored her enough to make her his wife outright. Second, the text says that she was unfaithful to him and left him to home. That doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. If she was unfaithful, the Levite would have sent her home, but the text makes her the agent of leaving. There’s an ancient tradition that would have us understand 19:2 this way: “She abhorred him and went back to her parents.” That makes more sense to me, especially in view of his subsequent behavior.

            Then the story takes a decidedly horrific turn. The Levite wants to stay in an Israelite town and that town turns out to be as bad as Sodom. Compare this account with the story of the angels and Lot in Sodom (Genesis 19)! The homeowner offers his virgin daughter and the Levite’s concubine to the mob, but this time there is no angel to intervene, and the mob rapes the concubine to death. (Thank God there is no mention that they sent the young girl out!) Finally the Levite dismembers her and sends the parts of her body as a warning to Israel. This is just hard to read! Why is it the Bible? Probably to show just how far Israel had fallen; she was becoming indistinguishable from the nations around her.

            Chapter 20 details the consequences of this incident. The Levite disappears from the story, but his warning takes root and eleven tribes make war against Benjamin, where Gibeah (the offending city) is. Now, granted the Benjaminites take arms in defense of their fellows, but the result of the story—the near annihilation of the entire tribe—seems out of proportion. I don’t know if we’re supposed to feel sorry for Benjamin or if we’re supposed to support the actions of the rest of Israel.

            The refrain through this part of Judges is that there was no king in the land and that everyone did what was right in his own eyes (repeated or alluded to 4 times in 5 chapters). I’ve had an insight this morning: there is no king—including the Lord! There is no human king to maintain order (Romans 13:1-5) and Israel had pretty thoroughly rejected the Lord’s kingship, too!

            I had another thought this morning, too. Judges 19 is what happens when human sin is unchecked. One of the ways we Lutherans speak about the Law of God is that it has a curbing effect, that is, because of conscience and the needs of society, the Law has a sort of civilizing, controlling effect, containing the worst outbreaks of sin. But when society breaks down, when there is no respect for authority and no fear of consequences, horrible things happen. You can think of Judges 19, Somalia in the 1990s, the violence that increasingly mars our society.  The answers are complex and not uniquely Christian. (The old saw, “This country needs to come back to the Lord,” is just too easy from my point of view.) No, it requires parents who teach and model respect for authority; it requires strong and just institutions of government; and, yes, true faith wouldn’t hurt the cause.

            More than that, though, we need to see that all of that evil lives in our fallen nature. But for the blessings of good families, nurturing institutions, and true faith, each of us has the potential for that kind of wickedness. It is one of the reasons that a confession of sins is so often a part of our worship and it is one of the reasons why recognizing ourselves as forgiven sinners is so important.

An Apostate Levite; An Apostate Tribe

Judges 17-18

            We know we’re in for trouble when we start with cursed silver. Micah, to his credit, confesses that he stole it from his mother, but instead of following through on her curse, she prays the Lord’s blessing on her son. More, she gives him a big chunk back. Well, she didn’t give it to him; she gave it to a silversmith to make an idol. This is the same syncretism we saw in Exodus 32 with the incident of the golden calf. It’s a dangerous attempt to mix the true worship of the Lord with the idolatry all around them.  Micah sets up a shrine, an alternate site of worship.

            Then, we meet a Levite from Bethlehem, which was not one of the cities set apart for the Levites. He, too, seems to be living outside the laws of God. Even though he is just a Levite, not a direct descendant of Aaron and therefore not a priest, he is going to act as a priest. Irregularities abound.

            Finally we have the strange story of a migrating tribe. Dan was not able to secure their allotment of the land (1:34). Although Judges doesn’t come right out and say it, it seems to me that when the tribes couldn’t complete the conquest it was because they didn’t believe the Lord could give it to them. It seems to me that the incomplete conquest was about a lack of faith. And here is Dan, migrating to a place of their convenience and choosing and grabbing an illegitimate priest of a syncretistic god to boot. “Everyone did as they saw fit,” indeed!

            There’s a deep connection in these two chapters. A couple of hundred years done the road, one Jeroboam, from the tribe of Ephraim is going to rebel against Rehoboam, son of Solomon. And Jeroboam, from Ephraim, is going to establish two shrines, with golden calves, at Bethel—in the hill country of Ephraim—and at Dan: two connections to Judges 17-18. And here’s the payoff. Do you know whose sin is mentioned in the Bible more often than anyone else’s? Jeroboam’s. Jeroboam led the Israelites of the northern kingdom away from the Lord their God, and that terrible failure becomes his legacy.

            Idolatry is a big deal, and the most common idolatry is to make ourselves the measure of all things. The true faith tells us that the Lord did it all for us in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Our faith isn’t about the good that we do, even though we are called to do good; it isn’t about our actions in the world, even though we are called to love all people (Galatians 6:10). Our faith is about God’s free gift of forgiveness for all people. That good news will have an effect in the world, but it is essential to remember that “it is by grace you are save, not by works, lest anyone should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Samson

Judges 13-16

            I’ve loved the story of Samson since childhood. I remember the picture in my children’s Bible of Samson carrying the gates of Gaza and carrying them up a hill. In high school, I had just read Joseph Heller’s God Knows, a fictionalization of the life of David, and I wrote a story of Samson in a similar style. My English teacher directed me to John Milton’s Samson Agonistes (1671), which ends with these lines, “Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail/Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,/Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair,/And what may quiet us in a death so noble.” Milton places that speech in the mouth of Samson’s father after Samson has died, and he is explaining, really, how despite his flaws Samson died a hero. The reality is that Samson is a deeply flawed character, but one whom the Lord used for His purposes anyway.

            Samson’s birth is miraculous, cast in terms of Isaac and later Samuel. His mother was barren, so the birth is completely unexpected. Further, the angel of the Lord declares that Samson will be a lifelong Nazirite, drinking no wine and never cutting his hair. His whole life is a gift from the Lord, and his whole life is dedicated to the Lord.

            Unfortunately, the first story of the young man Samson demonstrates his poor judgment. He begins a fling with a Philistine woman and demands that his father arrange a marriage—strike one. He eats honey out of a lion’s carcass, violating his Nazirite vow (see Numbers 6)—strike two. And when he allows his new wife to wheedle the answer to a riddle out of him so that he loses a bet he responds by killing 30 Philistines—strike three. The violence escalates: He goes back to claim his wife and is refused so he burns the Philistines fields; the Philistines retaliate; and Samson kills a thousand of them with the jawbone of a donkey.

            Judges 15:15 is kind of a summary of all of Samson’s work; it’s kind of a summary of all of Judges: just as Samson used a jawbone as a weapon, so the Lord uses the strangest instruments to accomplish his goals. A few weeks ago, I referenced this verse at a pastor’s installation. How strange of God to use a violent, impulsive, lecherous man like Samson! How strange of the Lord to use us pastors, jars of clay (2 Corinthians 4:7), with all of our weaknesses, to distribute His gifts!

            Lecherousness ends the story of Samson. He dallies with a prostitute named Delilah, who ultimately betrays him to the Philistines. His hair is cut and he loses his strength. (It’s not that the hair was magic; it’s that the hair was a sign of his Nazirite status, a sign of his dedication to the Lord.) His eyes are gouged out and he becomes a laughingstock. Even his final action is flawed. He doesn’t want to kill the Philistines to glorify God or to free God’s people from oppression: he wants to kill them for revenge.

            Turns out Milton was wrong: there is something here to knock the breast. Samson’s story is ultimately one of those weird, wonderful stories in which the Lord uses human weakness and manages to accomplish His purposes anyway. There’s no question that Samson is deeply flawed, a terrible sinner. Yet, like a donkey’s jawbone, the Lord uses him to deliver His people from their enemies. I’m reminded how the Lord used the recalcitrance of Pharaoh to bring His people out of Egpt; how He co-opted the wickedness and weakness of Judas and Pilate to accomplish the salvation of the world. The ways of the Lord are mysterious and wonderful.

Jephthah

Judges 11-12

            We know we’re in for trouble almost immediately when Judges 11:1 identifies Jephthah as the son of a prostitute. A few verses later we are told he is chased off by his father’s legitimate sons and surrounds himself with scoundrels (NIV; v. 3). Other translations call them ‘vain,’ ‘worthless,’ ‘good-for-nothing,’ ‘lawless,’ and, my personal favorite, ‘rowdies’ (CJB). For a guy with a checkered past, Jephthah acquits himself pretty well: he tries diplomacy first. He rehearses Israel’s history to demonstrate that the king of Ammon’s claim to the Transjordan is spurious. That land was not originally taken from Ammon, and, frankly, Israel has been occupying it for 300 years. The king of Ammon is unimpressed, goes to war, and loses—badly. If only that was the whole story! Unfortunately, Jephthah makes a foolish—and completely unnecessary—vow and ends up killing his daughter. Ironically, child sacrifice was a practice associated with the god Molech, who was worshipped by the Ammonites!

            Now, remember a few chapters ago, when the Ephraimites were angry that Gideon hadn’t called them out against the Midianites? Well, they’re back at it with Jephthah. Jephthah says he did call them out—either a lie or an unrecorded part of the earlier story. Violence ensues, with Jephthah taking the lead and attacking Ephraim, although the Shibboleth incident suggests the fighting happened east of the Jordan. There’s an interesting hint here about the shifting sense of identity among the Israelites. The Ephraimites call the Gileadites “renegades from Ephraim and Manasseh.” So, “Gilead” isn’t a tribe, but a place, a region on the east side of Jordan, and half of the tribe of Manasseh had inherited land on the east side of Jordan. It’s just a glimpse into the fact that in some cases tribal identities are being lost, and the Transjordan tribes are pulling away from the rest of Israel.

            Both aspects of the story make the same basic point: things are not going well for Israel. There is no national unity, no strong leadership. So she is easily victimized by her neighbors and internecine violence is creeping in. In some ways, Judges is a long preparation for 1 Samuel and the coming of the monarchy to Israel. In an even grander way, it is a long preparation for Jesus, who is finally Israel’s truly blameless king. 

Abimelek

Judges 9-10

            The tale of Gideon begins in cowardice and fear and ends in idolatry and shame. Yesterday we read how Gideon refused to establish a dynasty to rule Israel; that was his best moment. After that, he created an ephod which became an idolatrous snare to the him and the people, and ironically he names his illegitimate son Abimelek, which means, “My father is king.” Clearly, Gideon had some kingly pretensions!

            That comes home to roost in chapter 9, a sordid tale of ambition and shifting loyalties. Abimelek, who is illegitimate, opposes the 70 legitimate sons of Gideon for the right to rule Shechem. The people agree and there is a mass execution of those other sons. Only Jotham escapes. His role in the story is to tell a fable and to pronounce a curse on the Abimelek and the people of Shechem. The point of the fable is that a thornbush cannot provide shade for the rest of the trees and in the same way an illegitimate son like Abimelek cannot provide true, kingly protection for the people of Shechem. He really is just a thug. Eventually the Shechemites see this and follow another scoundrel, Gaal. Revolt ensues, Abimelek kills the people of Shechem, and he, in turn, is killed ignobly in an assault on Thebez. The curse of Jotham is fulfilled.

            As the story of Judges progresses, this is a phenomenon we will see several times. The further the people slip from the Lord, the worse their choices will be. Had Gideon stuck by his original statement, that the Lord would rule Israel (8:23); had he taught his sons that; had Israel remembered it, things may have gone differently. But they pursued the idolatrous ways of the world, and disaster followed.

Gideon

Judges 6-8

            Every time I read Judges I learn something new. Today I learned that the name Gideon means “the one who hews/cuts.” It’s an important detail because it’s the same root that is used in Deuteronomy 7:5 and 12:3, when Moses instructs the Israelites to cut down the sacred poles of the Canaanites. It’s also exactly what Gideon does to his father’s Asherah pole in chapter 6.

            Gideon is an interesting character. The angel of the Lord calls him a mighty warrior, and Zebah and Zalmunna, the kings of Midian that Gideon defeats, say that Gideon has the bearing of a prince. Apparently, Gideon is of some kind of aristocrat. However, he claims that his clan is the weakest in his tribe and that he’s the least of his family. When we meet him, he’s threshing in a wine press. Usually he would thresh on a hill, throwing grain stalks into the air so that the wind would blow the chaff away; doing it in a hole in the ground means he’s hiding (and covered in chaff, to boot!). In the first encounter, he asks for a sign, which the angel gives b burning up his offering. Yet, at the end of the chapter, he tests the Lord twice with his fleece. (I’ve heard Christians talking about ‘laying out a fleece,’ as if asking for some kind of proof about what they’re supposed to do is a good thing. It seems plain to me that in Judges at least the request is not a good thing.) The man comes across as a coward!

            The Lord is going to test Gideon’s courage even more. Gideon raises 32,000 men, and the Lord whittles it down to 300, first dismissing anyone who is scared and then dismissing those who stuck their whole face in the water to drink. We are reminded that the victory is the Lord’s; Israel does not win through might of arms.

            Unfortunately, Gideon’s story ends on a discouraging note. Our hero makes himself an ephod, which has been in the Scriptures an exclusively priestly garment. Gideon is usurping a prerogative that is not his. (Speaking of usurping, although Gideon refuses the title ‘king,’ he names his illegitimate son Abimelech, which means ‘my father is king.’) The ephod becomes a matter of idolatry, and Israel prostituted themselves before it. “Prostituted” was the word used for Israel’s idolatry in 2:17, and this, along with 8:33, are the only other uses of the word in the book. It’s a clear warning that things are not well in Israel.

Deborah and Barak

Judges 4-5

            What a story! It stands out first because the two heroes are women. Now, in our day, that’s hardly surprising, but in the ancient world it was almost unheard of. Judges tells us that Deborah was a prophet and the leader of Israel. Again, in our day, now big deal: we expect women to be in roles of influence. But in the ancient world this would have only highlighted that the men were invisible, hiding, shirking responsibility. That’s exactly what Deborah says to Barak. She summons him to lead and because he will only do it if she is with him, she tells him he won’t get any glory out of it.

            Now, I’m a pretty egalitarian guy. I love living in a world in which women are given opportunities that were for too long denied to them. Women have incredible gifts for use in all sorts of vocations. I’m griped by the ways that women are still treated as second-class in the world. Having said all that, there is this biblical concept of headship, that is, there is this idea that, especially in families and in the church, men are supposed to step up, take responsibility, and show sacrificial leadership. So, I read Judges 4, and I am reminded how often it falls on women to act as the spiritual head of the household, and I mourn that modern men, especially in religious things, are so passive and retiring.

            Anyway, Deborah’s prophecy comes true and, although Barak is in hot pursuit of Sisera, Jael has already killed him. Now that’s an interesting story. She’s the wife of one Heber, the Kenite, whom we met in Judges 4:11. The Kenites were the people from who Moses’ father-in-law had come, and they were historical allies of Israel. So, Heber stands out for having betrayed that alliance. Probably he is the one who warned Sisera that Barak was raising an army. Jael demonstrates that her loyalties remained with Israel and the Lord. She is able to overpower this mighty warrior because instead of giving him water, she gives him slightly curdled milk. Apparently, this increases the soporific effect of milk. In short, she drugs him… and then she nails his head to the floor.

            The song in Judges 5 also gives us some interesting details. For example, Ephraim, Benjamin, Zebulun, Naphtali, and Issachar are said to have answered the summons and fought against Sisera. On the other hand, Reuben and Gilead (that is, the 2 ½ Transjordan tribes), Dan, and Asher are accused of refusing to fight. The song also gives us the detail that the Lord was the one who gave Israel the advantage over the 900 chariots of Sisera: Judges 5:21 says the River Kishon swept them away. Apparently, Sisera had chosen the location because it was a flood plain that gave his chariots room to maneuver; however, the Lord caused the river to flood, bogging those chariots down and rendering them useless. One last thing is the mention of Megiddo. Megiddo was a fortress that overlooked the main pass on the main north south route through Israel. It’s strategic importance gave it a role in many battles, so much so that you’ve probably heard of it, even if you don’t know you’ve heard of it. Ever heard the word Armageddon? It’s a word from the book of Revelation, indicating some kind of climactic battle. Well, it’s just a Greek variation on the Hebrew har-Megiddo, “the mountain of Megiddo,” and it becomes a sort of symbol of the clash of armies because so many armies fought there. (We’ll have to save more on that until we come to Revelation late next year!)

Othniel and Ehud

Judges 3

            The story of the first judge (the only one ever actually called a judge) is brief, but it shows the pattern of the rest of the judges: Israel falls into idolatry; the Lord brings in a foreign power to oppress them and bring them to repentance; the Israelites cry out to the Lord; the Lord sends a deliverer; and there is a period of peace. There are couple of interesting things. First, Othniel is the son-in-law of Caleb, who had lived in the Exodus generation. So, there is a connection to the previous generation. Second, Cushan-Rishathaim may mean “Cushan the twice-evil.” I’m not sure that’s important, but it’s a heck of a nickname. Third, Aram Naharaim seems to be very far from Israel, like several hundred miles, so what we likely have are raiding parties. Fourth, Genesis 24:10 notes Aram Naharaim as the homeland of Abraham, so there’s some family connections, too.

            With Ehud we have a fuller story. Moab was a neighbor of Israel, so the oppression makes sense. The deliverer is Ehud, who is described as left-handed. Now, with all respect to lefties, in the ancient world for literally centuries, left-handed meant shady, untrustworthy, suspect. As a matter of fact, the Latin word for “left-handed” is “sinister,” and we know how that word has come over into English! And he achieves his purposes through trickery: smuggling in a sword, getting the king alone, and locking the door behind him. In some ways, it’s quite a funny story, with the fat king, and the disappearing sword, the stench of the king soiling himself, and his servants’ embarrassment that the king seemed to be taking his time on the toilet. We shouldn’t let that distract us from realizing that the Lord’s instrument was in some ways a very flawed man, who resorted to assassination to accomplish his mission.

            As I said in my Facebook video this week, we’re going to see a lot of flawed people in this book. The good news, I suppose, is that no matter our weaknesses, the Lord can still accomplish his purposes through us. And in a way these flawed instruments draw us forward to Jesus. Reading through the Old Testament we might find ourselves wondering, “Are there any heroes in here without feet of clay?” The answer is, “No.” But the story of Jesus is still in the future, and He is the perfect one who provides ultimate and eternal deliverance!

The Pattern of Judges

Judges 2

            The chronology of Judges 1-2 is unclear. Coming after the conclusion of Joshua, we are primed to think that chapter one, with its recollection of the incomplete conquest, happened in the next generation. We are also primed to think that the message from the angel of the Lord also comes in that generation. However, then, in Judges 2:6ff. the death of the Joshua is recounted and we have language reminiscent of the end of Joshua 24. All of this makes it possible that the beginning of Judges actually overlaps the end of Joshua.  My study Bible suggests that Judges 2:1-5 may actually occur in the aftermath of the Gibeonite deception. (It doesn’t give any evidence for why the editors offer that possibility.)

            Whatever the chronology, the point of the chapter is apparent: Israel didn’t pursue the Lord’s command to drive out the Canaanites, and they were ensnared in the Canaanites idolatry, just as the Lord had warned. The Lord, then, used those very Canaanites to oppress His people Israel and drive them to repentance. Having come to repentance, the Lord sent judges to save them. This actually becomes the pattern of Judges 2-16: Israel falls into idolatry; the Lord sends a foreign power oppresses them; they cry out to the Lord; He sends a judge; and there is a period of peace.

Introducing Judges

Judges 1

            The book of Judges has been a source of fascination for me for a long time. It is a deeply disturbing book, graphic in its violence and unflinching about the shortcomings of its so-called heroes. Yet, it is expertly crafted and its current location in the Bible is genius. (The books of the Bible have been ordered differently in different eras: the Hebrew Old Testament is quite different from our current arrangement. The order Joshua, Judges, Ruth, seems to come from the very influential translation of the Old Testament into Greek called the Septuagint, from about 250 years before Jesus.)

            Briefly, the book has three parts: a prologue (chs. 1-2), focusing on the incomplete nature of the conquest and Israel’s faithlessness; the main part of the book (chs. 3-16) about the so-called judges; and a sort of epilogue (chs. 17-21), in which everything just falls apart for Israel. I say “so-called” judges because in contemporary parlance judge doesn’t really do it. These are not people who sit around in black robes and preside over dry cases of law. They are, by and large, warriors, leaders, rallying points. What do they judge? I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it has to do with the judgments of the Lord against Israel, in response to which he Lord raises judges. Maybe in some way they are “judging” the nation who have oppressed Israel. Interestingly, only Othniel is actually ever called a judge, and in chapter 11, Jephthah says that the Lord is Judge. Whatever the reason for the name, there are twelve judges: six with extended stories (Othniel, Ehud, Deborah, Gideon, Jephthah, and Samson)) and six that are mentioned in passing (Shamgar, Toa, Jair, Ibzan, Elon, and Abdon), reflecting the twelve tribe of Israel.

            Today’s reading sets the stage by showing the incompleteness of the conquest. Judah and Simeon do pretty well but can’t drive the Canaanites from the plains due to a technological disadvantage. (The Canaanites have chariots; the Israelites don’t. That’s like trying to defeat a column of tanks with a platoon of infantry.) From there it’s downhill. The Benjaminites accomplish some goals but are unable to drive the Jebusites from Jerusalem. (Have you noticed that Jerusalem is a real thorn? In Joshua, they killed the king of Jerusalem; earlier in this chapter, the Judahites set the city on fire. But here are the Jebusites, still hanging on…) Likewise the tribes of Joseph (Manasseh and Ephraim) take Bethel, but Manasseh cannot finish the job. Ephraim, Zebulun, Asher, Naphtali, and Dan all cannot finish their work. The result: Israel is surrounded by idolaters, a constant source of temptation, which has catastrophic results, as we’ll read about tomorrow.

Joshua’s Final Address

Joshua 24

            In Joshua 24, Joshua addresses Israel for the last time. He starts with a long recitation of the Lord’s promises and His faithfulness to those promises, how He chose Abraham out of an idolatrous family, how He brought them out of Egypt, how He gave them the bountiful land in which they were living. The recitation of God’s faithfulness is an essential part of all Biblical worship, Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament that takes the form Joshua has here: the call of Abraham, the Exodus, the Promised Land. In the New Testament, it takes the shape of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Such recitation, oh, let’s call it what it is, such praise, puts the focus squarely on the Lord, who makes and keeps promises. In Lutheran terms, it puts the focus squarely on the Gospel—what God has done for your salvation. And focusing on what God has already done, focusing on the fact that promise-keeping is fundamental to God’s character, is exactly the thing we need in order to keep on trusting Him, especially when the circumstances of life would cause us to doubt His trustworthiness.

            Having reminded them of all that the Lord had done for them, Joshua calls them to holy living. That’s the proper order of preaching: first, justification, what the Lord has done for our salvation, then, sanctification, the life that is born of faith in God’s gracious acts. If you start with sanctification, if you start with yourself and your own behavior, you introduce all sorts of uncertainty into the equation. Look at the uncertainty in Joshua. First, he tells them to throw away the gods of their ancestors. Apparently they were still carrying those idols with them, even after all those years. Second, he warns them that they are unable to serve the Lord, and, frankly, their past and subsequent history prove that assertion. That’s why the Gospel, the good news of what God has done, especially through Jesus, is fundamental. If we are always slipping back into old idolatries, old patterns of false belief and false reliance, we need to be constantly reminded where our hope really lies.

            I’ve passed over Joshua’s most famous quote, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Many of us probably have that hanging in our homes somewhere. It’s a great sentiment; it’s a worthy goal; and by ourselves it’s unattainable. But if when we read “the Lord,” we recite to ourselves what that Lord has done, if we keep the Gospel front and center, then we have a chance to serve the Lord.

            One more thing today—a little historical note. Joshua was 110 when he died. Strangely, as the book recounts the death of Joshua, it also notes the burial of Joseph’s remains: Joseph who was also 110 when he died; Joseph who saved Israel from famine in a foreign land. Things have come full circle. Israel left the land of promise as a family nomads; they return now as a mighty nation, resting securely in the land that the Lord had promised those hundreds of years ago.

The Peril of Pride

Joshua 23

            As Joshua comes to the end of his life, he makes one last appeal to the people of Israel to remain faithful to the Lord. After reading Deuteronomy, there is little here that we haven’t read before. However, verses 9-10 stand out to me this morning. In verse 9-10, Joshua reminds the people that the Lord has driven out the nations, that it is the Lord who has given them such success, and that they need to be “very careful to love the Lord.”

            I’m struck by peril of pride. Imagine how easy it would be for the Israelites to start taking some credit for their success, how easy it would be to start imagining that they are the real deal, that they’re great warriors. I know the peril personally. As a pastor, I know that everything comes down to the Word of God. The Word is the sharp, two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12); the Word give life (John 6:63). Yet, when a particular sermon hits well, it’s easy to think, “I’m a pretty good preacher! Look at me!”

            And, to be sure, the Lord blesses us each in different ways and uses those gifts He has given for His purposes. I may, in fact, be a more gifted preacher than some others. But, even then, the Lord has given the gifts and because the power is in the Word a less gifted preacher has the same—sometimes better—results—because the are not the preacher’s results.

            I’m guessing not a lot of preachers read this blog, and I only use myself as an example. Maybe a broader example is in order. If we ever start taking pride in our own holiness, a sort of look-how-good-I-am attitude, it’s the same thing. The Holy Spirit brings us to faith; the Holy Spirit produces in us every good work. As Paul says, boasting is excluded (Romans 3:27; Ephesian 2:9), and if we boast at all, we boast in the Lord (1 Corinthians 1:31).

            Boasting in ourselves is the first idolatry. Instead we are called to walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).

A Disaster Averted

Joshua 22

            After all is said and done, the eastern tribes (called the Trans-Jordan tribes, because they live on the other side of the Jordan) return to the land Moses had given them. Unfortunately, on the way, they build an altar and the remaining tribes are furious. How dare they turn away from the Lord so quickly? Fortunately, unlike other instances in Israel’s history, they don’t just jump to conclusions and go to war. Instead they send a delegation to ask for an explanation. It turns out the altar is meant as a testimony for the Trans-Jordan tribes themselves, that their loyalty is to the Lord and that they are to worship only where He puts His name.

            Lessons? It’s good to look before you leap. Sometimes asking for an explanation in a spirit of reconciliation avoids unnecessary ugliness. Second, sometimes our best intentions need explanation. It doesn’t pay to get on our high horse and assume people should have known what we intended. Proverbs 15:1 remains good advice, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh world stirs up anger.”

The Distribution of the Land

Joshua 13-21

            There are a ton of geographical references in this section, and the easiest thing is to rely on those who study Joshua for a living. Here is a map showing the distribution of the land.

 

            Just a couple of other notes from this reading. First, remember Othniel (15:18) because he will be the first judge. Second, note how much of the land is left unconquered; it will serve as a backdrop to the book of Judges. Third, take a look at where Dan’s allocation is, because at the end of Judges, that whole tribe will end up relocating way to the north.

             Chapter 20-21 simply relate the fulfillment of the Lord’s command regarding the towns of the Levites (Numbers 35)

             Finally, a chronological note. Caleb says that he is 85 and that it has been 45 years since he first went out with the spies to scout out the land. So, 40 years in the wilderness leaves 5 years since they crossed the Jordan. The whole campaign took about 5 years. (The Lord says that Joshua is old, but we have no way to determine his exact age during the conquest.)

The Northern Campaign

\Joshua 11-12

            As in the south, so in the north. The conquest of the northern part of the promised land began with a coalition of enemies very conveniently gathering together so that Joshua could attack them all at once. Once again we have a note that Joshua moved fast and struck them unawares. It seems that Joshua was fighting a rather asymmetrical war, avoiding face-to-face confrontations and pitched battles in favor of surprise attacks.

            Again, the book of Joshua wants to celebrate the Lord’s gift of the promised land, but there are little notes that suggest the job wasn’t fully complete. For example, 11:13 tells us that the Israelites did not raze the cities. Perhaps the idea is positive: the Israelites would take over these fortified cities. Perhaps it’s not so positive: the Canaanites could re-occupy them.

The Southern Campaign

Joshua 11

            The treaty with Gibeon was tested almost immediately. Gibeon’s neighbors, smelling a traitor, gathered for war against them. Israel won decisively, pursuing them relentlessly, and humiliating and killing their kings. So that the Israelites could not brag about their prowess, the Lord intervened in two ways: first, massive hailstones, which Joshua says killed more than the Israelites. It’s a significant choice. Baal, the chief god of Canaan, was considered the god of the storm, but here is Yahweh of Israel using something that should have been Baal’s and using it against them. Imagine grabbing the robber’s weapon and using it to subdue him. Second, the sun stood still so that the Israelites could continue the pursuit and finish the victory.

            If you’re keeping count, that’s now seven cities down. From there Joshua turned south and the rest of the campaign is recorded briefly: Libnah, Lachish, Eglon, Hebron, Debir, and the whole of the Negev. Interestingly, Lachish is a fortress that guarded the approach to Jerusalem, but Joshua doesn’t mention that important city. He tells us that the king of Jerusalem and his army were destroyed, but he doesn’t mention the city falling. Because it didn’t. The purpose of the book of Joshua is to show how the Lord gave the land to His people. When we come to Judges, we’ll find out that Israel didn’t finish the job and that that failure has bad consequences. That’s later. For now, we’re to rejoice in the subjugation of the south and Israel’s total dominance because the Lord fights for her.

Arrogance and Trickery

Joshua 9-10

            The citizens of Ai (Ai-ites?) had the wrong idea about Israel. They hadn’t beaten the Israelites the first time for any reason other than that the Lord was disciplining Israel over Achan’s sin at Jericho. But the Ai-ites underestimated Israel and, worse, underestimated Israel’s God. Seeing an Israelite force of about the same size approaching, the Ai-ites, in their arrogance, assumed they would thump the Israelites again. The underestimation of Israel is in thinking that Israel was dumb enough to try the same things all over again, so even on a human level, Ai’s strategy wasn’t great. But with the Lord on their side, the Israelites couldn’t fail.

            With a foothold in the promised land, Joshua renewed the covenant, just as Moses had commanded (Deuteronomy 27). Hearing the law and renewing their commitment to the One who gave it, Israel was ready to pursue the rest of the conquest.

            Unfortunately, the Gibeonites were trickier than the Ai-ites. They had seen the destruction at Jericho and Ai, and they decided trickery was a better option. Posing as distant travelers, they secured a treaty. Now the Israelites were in a pickle: they were supposed to destroy the Canaanites but they had sworn not to harm the Gibeonites. The people seem to have thought their leaders should have done more research, but the leaders wouldn’t let the people add shame to failure and insisted on honoring the treaty and subjecting the Gibeonites to perpetual slavery.

            We’ll hear from Gibeon again: in the next chapter, in 2 Samuel, where it’s the site of another no-win situation, in 2 Samuel 21, a few other places. Gibeon becomes a bit of a byword among the Israelites.

The Fall of Jericho

Joshua 5:13-7:26

            Before the battle with Jericho is joined, Joshua has a strange vision of a man with a sword. Joshua recognizes a divine emissary and asks whose side the man is on. The man significantly changes the question. It’s not a question of whether God is on our side or not; it’s a question of whether we are on God’s side…

            Joshua shows himself on God’s side and follows His orders. No war cried, no siege engines; just a parade around the city six days in a row, replete with trumpet blasts, but nothing else. Finally, on the seventh day, seven times around, and, to quote the old Sunday school song, “the walls come a-tumbling down!”

            Several weeks ago, I commented in regard to Numbers 31 about the practice of herem, total dedication to the Lord. It is difficult for us to understand. In the case of Jericho, herem meant the extermination of every living thing: “men and women, young and old, cattle, sheep, and donkeys” (6:21). As I commented then, in the case of animals it seems wasteful and in the case of humans it seems vicious. In order to understand it at all, we have to think of Jericho as a fortress specifically at the entry point of the promised land. While it wasn’t built consciously to keep the Israelites out (there were other enemies to worry about), it was the fortress that was standing in the way of the Lord bringing His people in. So, it had to go—completely, never to be rebuilt.

            If only Achan had gotten the memo…

Home at Last

Joshua 4:1-5:12

            When Israel crosses the Jordan, they cross a significant boundary: they are no longer nomads in the desert; rather, they are home. Three things happen in quick succession. First, even as they are crossing the river, Joshua instructs them to gather stones—kind of big ones, carried on the shoulder—for a memorial. We’ve seen this before and we’ll see it again—various standing stones and rock piles to commemorate the actions of God in their midst, reminders for them of the Lord’s gracious faithfulness and sometimes a reminder that He is that way in spite of their own behavior.

            Humans need those reminders. We keep pictures and mementos of life-shaping events. We celebrate birthdays and anniversaries. We build memorials. In the church, this work is carried on regularly. The whole service is a weekly reminder of who God is, who we are, and what He has done for us. The thing begins in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, a weekly reminder of our Baptism. We hear the stories of God’s faithfulness read out loud and exposited. We receive a Supper that is specifically ‘in remembrance.’ The shape of our calendar does the same work, especially Advent through Easter, recounting the key moments in Jesus’ saving life. Christians need those refreshers.

            Second, the nation is circumcised. Joshua tells us that none of the fighting men in the current generation had been circumcised in the wilderness. Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell us why they hadn’t been circumcised on the eighth day in the wilderness. Here is an example of a phenomenon we have to think about: we know what the Lord commanded in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy; we know a lot less about how Israel actually obeyed those commands. That leads to something else they did on the banks of Jordan, namely, celebrating the Passover. Now, again, why hadn’t they done that for the last forty years?

            This could have been willful disobedience, that they just neglected the commands of God. That seems unlikely to me because it feels like Moses would have called that out in either Numbers or Deuteronomy, where he called out a lot of bad behavior. More likely, the whole wilderness experience seems to have been an extraordinary pause in God’s purposes, a sort of limbo. The Lord intended to bring them right from Sinai to the Promised Land so that after the Passover at Sinai they would have celebrated the next one in the Land. But there was the rebellion in the wilderness, so no marks of the covenant until they were ready to finally finish the task.

            Finally, we have the note that as soon as they crossed the Jordan, the manna stopped. They were in the land. They no longer needed that extraordinary gift. They were in a land of milk and honey.

Rahab and a New Exodus

Joshua 2-3

            Rahab plays an outsize role in the Bible, not so much here in Joshua so much as in other places Here in Joshua, she is motivated pretty clearly by a sense of self-preservation. The people of Jericho have been aware of Israel for a long time: they have heard about the Red Sea crossing, which would have been 40 years in the past. As much as Israel may have been frightened by the impending conquest, the Canaanites were even more frightened. Rahab even comes pretty close to a confession of faith, “The Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below.” So, she strikes a deal for herself and for her family to survive the coming invasion. (I wonder if the scarlet cord is supposed to remind us of all those times scarlet yarn was specified for the tabernacle, but I think that may be a little too much…)

            Rahab comes up three times in the New Testament, too. The writer of Hebrews names her as a person of faith (11:31), and James likens her protection of the spies to a good work, a work of faith (2:25). (Whether that confession was genuine at the time or whether she grew into later doesn’t really matter: the New Testament calls out her faith.) Most important, though, is her mention in Jesus’ genealogy in Matthew 1:5, where she is listed as the mother of Boaz, that righteous man who did right by Naomi and Ruth. In the same verse, Ruth is named as an ancestor of David. Two Gentiles—Gentile women, no less—right there among Jesus’ ancestors! Taken all together, this portrayal of Rahab shows us that God’s grace extends to all who believe!

            Chapter 3 recounts the crossing of the Jordan river. The thing to see here is the resonance with the crossing of the Red Sea. We have the image of the water piling up and the phrase “on dry ground.” This miraculous crossing wasn’t strictly necessary: the spies forded the river with no problem (2:23). Still, a river is a river and the river bed would have been full of silt, so the miracle certainly eased the way. As I mentioned, though, the miracle is more important for the way it echoes the original exodus. It’s like the Lord is saying, “OK, here we go. After a 40-year delay, I’m finishing what I started with Moses and your parents.” There’s a sense of the story finally moving forward after the delay in the wilderness.

Be Strong and Courageous

Joshua 1

            With the beginning of Joshua, the Bible’s story is about to take a large step forward. In Deuteronomy 26, the Israelites were instructed to say, “My father was a wandering Aramean,” when they brought their offerings—a reference either to Jacob or maybe even to Abraham who left Harran at the Lord’s command. The point is that for some 700 years, Israel had been a homeless people. Abraham moved about, Jacob was a nomad, and the whole people had lived for hundreds of years as guests and then slaves in Egypt—but they never called it home. Now, they are about to cross the Jordan and take possession of the land the Lord had promised for so long. In some ways, a lot of the rest of the Old Testament is a story about the land: will Israel remain faithful to the Lord and stay in the land or not?

            As they enter this next phase of their history, Joshua is their new leader, and just as in Deuteronomy 31, so here: Joshua is told to be strong and courageous: four times! It must have been a daunting task—a nomadic people who had for the last four hundred years been slaves trying to take on fortified cities and standing armies. As I said in reference to Deuteronomy 31, though, it takes courage to face strength with strength, but it takes even more courage to face strength only with reliance on the Lord!  The two things that that courage stands on are that the Lord is with them and that they are doing what the Lord commanded. I’m regularly reminded, unfortunately, that just because what you are doing is right doesn’t make it easy. So, the repeated encouragement: Be strong and courageous!

Moses’ Obituary

Deuteronomy 34

            As we come to the end of Deuteronomy, we read about Moses’ death and the succession of Joshua. The first thing we should account for is that Moses pretty obviously didn’t write this last chapter. I mean, it is just possible that the Lord dictated Moses’ death to him right before he died, but that seems pretty macabre. To say that Moses is the author of the first five books of the Bible doesn’t mean some later writer couldn’t have added a few editorial editions here or there (under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, of course!)

            Aside from the technical issue of authorship, several other things bear comment. First, the Lord showed Moses the whole land. The description of what he saw tells us that this was a divine vision more than just standing on a high mountain. (I googled Mt. Nebo, and the first answer was twelve thousand feet, but I quickly realized that’s a mountain in Utah. Mt. Nebo in modern day Jordan is only 2,300 feet!) Even in His judgment, the Lord often shows His grace, and that’s the case with Moses: he can’t go in, but the Lord gives him a vision of it.

            Second, there’s the Lord’s statement that this is the land He swore on oath to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We first read that promise way back in the beginning of January, 17 weeks ago. Historically, Deuteronomy 34 is about 700 years after Genesis 12. I’ve said often on this blog, “The Lord keeps His promises.” But it is good to be reminded of something Moses said that we haven’t read yet: in Psalm 90 Moses tells us that with the Lord, “A thousand years in [His] sight are like a day gone by.” The Lord keeps His promises, but His scale is so much broader than ours!

            Third, there are comments here about Moses. For example, that he was still a strong man with sharp eyes, even at the age of 120. The Lord had kept him through all the rigors of life in Pharoah’s court, his exile to Midian, and his time leading God’s people. Also, note the statement about Moses’ uniqueness, that no prophet has arisen like him, who saw the Lord face to face. That statement stood until the coming of Jesus, widely acclaimed by His contemporaries as a prophet, and who not only saw God face to face but was God Himself.

            Finally, a note about Joshua who was filled with the spirit of wisdom by the laying on of hands. The name Joshua is a Hebrew word that means “the Lord saves,” and Jesus is its Greek variant. Moses looks forward to Jesus in a number of ways: a prophet, the one who brings God’s people out of slavery, the one who intercedes for them. But Joshua looks forward to Jesus in a significant way, too. He is the one who lead God’s people into their promised land, just as Jesus opens the way of everlasting life for us and leads us in by His resurrection.

Moses’ Blessings

Deuteronomy 33

            As Moses’ ministry (and his life) comes to an end, he makes a final blessing on Israel—Moses’ last words. One of the interesting things is that the tribes are listed in a unique order. Reuben is listed first, but even though he was the firstborn he did not receive the birthright. Fittingly, his blessing is very short. Judah comes next: he was the fourth son, but he inherited the birthright. Simeon, the second born, is never mentioned. Maybe that has to do with historical circumstance. Simeon’s territory was right in the center of Judah’s, and in many ways Simeon was always just considered part of Judah. So, there seems to be some commentary about the struggle to find a successor for Jacob.

            Levi, who was the third born son, who also was passed over for the birthright, is third here and has an extensive blessing. Levi’s blessing seems to focus on the fact that the tribe rallied to the Lord’s cause after the incident of the golden calf. (In this case not regarding father or mother and not recognizing brother or sister is cast as a good thing because Levi was so focused on the things of the Lord.) So, Levi’s blessing focuses on that tribe’s unique role as the priestly class and as the tabernacle workers.

            Benjamin, the last of 12 sons, is fourth; and Joseph, the 11^th son, but Jacob’s favorite, is fifth. I don’t know what to make of that. As Israel’s history unfolds, their first king, Saul, is of the tribe of Benjamin. But after the north and the south split, Ephraim becomes the prominent tribe of the north. Maybe this is a foretaste of that rivalry between the tribes that descend from Rachel’s two sons. Given that there’s implicit tension between Manasseh and Ephraim, too (Ephraim, Joseph’s second son, received Jacob’s blessing and here has his ten thousands; Manasseh, Joseph’s firstborn, only has his thousands) may remind us of the hard feelings worked by favoritism.

            Once again, we are reminded of all the family drama of Jacob’s family, and implicitly we are forewarned that Israel is still a confederation of tribes more than a unified nation. It will take another 400 years for Israel to unite as one nation, a condition that will only last for about 120 years before they are torn by civil war. This is a condition that still exist among humans, that it is easier to tear apart than to bind together—whether we think about marriage and family or nations or the church. Maybe that’s why St. Paul is always so adamant that Christians strive for unity (see Ephesians and Philippians, especially).