Original Meaning

Two Fallen Eastern Kings (12:1–6)

THE RECAPITULATION OF ISRAELITE royal conquests begins at the beginning, with their victories over two kings and land acquisitions “east of the Jordan” (v. 1).6 Literarily, geographical descriptions (“from X to Y”) echo language from Deuteronomy 1–4; the author apparently relishes the citation of well-known landmarks to map out the vast territories. The spectacular Arnon Gorge through which the Arnon River empties into the Dead Sea marks the southern border, with Mount Hermon, Syro-Palestine’s highest point (9232 feet) about 130 miles away, its northern one (v. 1). The territory includes “all the eastern side of the Arabah” (cf. 11:16), the land east of the Jordan between those boundaries (i.e., northern Jordan and southern Syria).

Ruling this territory was the first king, the Amorite Sihon, from his capital city of Heshbon on the wide plateau parallel to the Jordan.7 His domain on the plateau above the Jordan is described from north to south (except for the “eastern Arabah” below). It ran from Aroer (v. 2), an ancient fortress on the northern rim of the gorge (Deut. 2:36; 4:48; Josh. 13:16), north about fifty miles to the Jabbok River, a feeder of the Jordan River midway between the Dead Sea and the Sea of Galilee and southern border of Ammonite territory.8 Sihon also held sway over “the eastern Arabah,” land between the east side of the Sea of Kinnereth (i.e., Galilee) and the “Sea of the Arabah (Salt Sea)” (or Dead Sea), including the east-west road to Beth Jeshimoth and land south as far as the slopes of Mount Pisgah (v. 3).

The second Amorite king is “Og king of Bashan” with two royal cities, Ashtaroth and Edrei. The latter locate his domain east and southeast of the Sea of Kinnereth and east of and parallel to that of Sihon. The author identifies him among “the last of the Rephaites,” a storied ancient race of giants or warrior kings like the Anakim (see 11:21–22).9 Deuteronomy 3:11 remembers Og’s gigantic bed—thirteen feet long by six feet wide and (at the time) still to be seen in Rabbah of the Ammonites! The description of his domain runs from north to south (the opposite of Sihon’s) and encompasses eastern Mount Hermon (presumably the eastern side), the town of Salecah (its southeast border point [Deut. 3:10; Josh. 13:11; 1 Chron. 5:11])—i.e., “all of Bashan” that abutted the border of the Geshurites to his immediate west and northwest, as well as the half of Gilead that bordered Sihon’s half to the south (v. 2).10

Finally, the writer recalls the important past history of Sihon, Og, and Israel. Moses and the Israelites struck down both kings, and Moses gave their lands as the inheritance of the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and East Manasseh (v. 6; Num. 21; 32:33; Deut. 1:4; 3:1–17). Recall that word of the fates of Sihon and Og inspired earlier conciliatory actions toward Israel by Rahab (Josh. 2:10) and the Gibeonites (9:10). Besides the Exodus, biblical tradition also remembers Sihon and Og as a paradigmatic victory of Yahweh on behalf of Israel.11 Literarily, they comprise a “down payment” on the eventual realization of Israel’s full inheritance, assert the tribes’ claim to their land, and confirm God’s promise of land.12

The Fallen Western Kings (12:7–24)

Bridging Contexts

JOSHUA 12 IS ABOUT kings whom Israel defeated, events whose importance earned them mention in Psalms 135 and 136. Those passages single out the east-bank Amorite kings, Sihon and Og, as representative of the larger group of fallen monarchs, and both credit the victories to Yahweh alone rather than to human heroes.40 In Psalm 135, an individual affirms Yahweh’s greatness and authority over both creation and history: “He struck down many nations and killed mighty kings … and … gave their land as an inheritance … to his people Israel” (135:10, 12). In Psalm 136, a group thanksgiving liturgy, the parallel claims “[he] struck down great kings” // “and killed mighty kings” evoke the audience reply, “His love [ḥesed] endures forever” (136:17).

Interestingly, similar phrases about the same events evince associations with at least two different truths about Yahweh’s character—his sovereign greatness and his covenant love (ḥesed). To prepare for the next section, however, we explore two themes: Yahweh’s unquestioned authority, and the realities of human kingship.

Yahweh’s unquestioned authority. NeB.C.adnezzar learned the hard way that Yahweh does not share his sovereignty with anyone—period! Recall the scene in which Daniel both “tells” and “interprets” the king’s dream (in contrast to only “interpreting”). The prophet affirms before the king that besides controlling times and seasons and dispensing wisdom and knowledge, Yahweh also “sets up kings and deposes them” (Dan. 2:21; cf. Ps. 47:9[10]).

Two chapters later, surveying greater Babylon from his palace roof, NeB.C.adnezzar forgets that truth and sadly runs afoul of Yahweh. Enchanted by the sparkling scene below, he blurts out his true feelings: “Is not this the great Babylon I have built … by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). In essence, the king sings a praise chorus in his own honor—“How Great I Art!” (4:30). That very bad insult of Yahweh reveals how out of touch with reality the unfortunate king is and makes his punishment—temporary insanity as a grazing wild animal—fitting poetic justice. He remains so until he regains his senses—until he acknowledges that “the Most High is sovereign over the kingdoms of earth and gives them to anyone he wishes” (Dan. 4:32 TNIV).

This is no isolated incident. Two centuries earlier, the arrogant message that King Sennacherib of Assyria sent to intimidate Jerusalem into surrender similarly demeans Yahweh, an insult for which the king later paid with his life (2 Kings 18:29–35; 19:32–37). Other texts warn kings not to overstep their boundaries as subordinate to Yahweh. The Song of Deborah (Judg. 5) directly addresses kings (“Hear this, you kings!” [v. 3]), then sings a victory song about Yahweh’s defeat of “the kings of Canaan” under Sisera’s command at Taanach (v. 19; cf. Judg. 4). Yahweh’s cosmic forces engage them (“from the heavens the stars fought … against Sisera” [v. 20]) and his natural forces—in this case, the river Kishon—“swept them away” (vv. 20, 21). To conclude, the poet addresses Yahweh (“So may all your enemies perish, O LORD!” [v. 31]). By singing of Yahweh’s past victory the writer forewarns other kings of the dire consequences of crossing the line from subordinate to “enemy.”41

Psalm 2 issues a similar warning. At the outset, the writer finds the royal foolishness incredible (“Why do the nations conspire … in vain?” [v. 1]); to rebel against the Davidic king (“the LORD’s anointed”) is to attack Yahweh himself! (vv. 2–3).42 The sight of this foolhardiness causes God, enthroned in heaven, to burst out laughing (v. 4). Laughter gives way to rebuke—and to Yahweh’s reassertion of his prior decree that designated the Israelite king as his on-site ruler for earth (vv. 5–9; cf. 2 Sam. 7).43 The psalmist concludes the poem with a warning for earth’s kings. If they are wise and wish to escape destruction, they will “serve the LORD with fear” and “kiss the Son”—i.e., acknowledge the king’s supreme authority—and enjoy the blessing of his protection (vv. 11–12).

Behind this psalm stands the important theme of Yahweh’s kingship over all creation and all creatures. “The LORD reigns” ensures the continuation of a stable universe (Ps. 93:1; 96:10). It also provides them a cosmic Supreme Court from which to receive justice for their complaints and vengeance on their oppressors (Ps. 94:2, 23; 99:4).

The experience of abuse and oppression underscores an additional aspect of God’s reign, his role as rescuer. “The LORD reigns” gives the oppressed a refuge to which to flee for protection, an ear alert to hear anguished cries, and a mighty deliverer from deathly dangers (Ps. 9:9, 12, 13 [10, 13, 14]; cf. 97:10; 99:6, 7). Several times the psalmists address Yahweh with a special title, “God our Savior,” in appeals for deliverance from trouble (Ps. 65:5[6]; 68:19[20]; 79:9; 85:5; cf. 1 Chron. 16:34–36). Other psalmists cry, “Help me [hošiʿah], O king!” invoking the traditional Israelite appeal for help (lit., “Save!”) from Yahweh and his human, royal representative (2 Sam. 14:4; 2 Kings 6:26).44

Similarly, the psalmists invoke the word in anguished cries (“Help!”) to King Yahweh (Ps. 12:1[2]; 20:9[10]; 28:9; 60:5[7]; 108:6[7]). The situations from which such cries for divine intervention arise are practical and down-to-earth: ongoing enemy attacks, recent military defeats, and malicious talk within Israel; the defense of good people against bad people; and the restoration of Israel to divine favor. But one important clarification merits mention: Sometimes God’s salvation involves rescue (i.e., removal) from the danger, but in most cases it brings divine help “into a situation of distress or danger, to people where they are and where they need it.”45 This distinction will illumine our discussion in the next section.

Finally, Psalm 146:6 singles out two qualities of Yahweh that anchor his role as Savior and lead those who seek him to praise him. (1) Only he is the Creator, “the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them.” In other words, he has the means sufficient to save. If he acts, he can get the rescue job done without question. But how does one know that he will respond if called upon? (2) His second quality, his faithfulness (he “remains faithful forever”) affirms his unwavering commitment to the well-being of his people. He simply keeps his promises.

In other words, as awesome Creator, God has the means to help, and as faithful covenant-partner he has the will to help. That is why the psalmist exhorts fellow Israelites, “Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save” (Ps. 146:3). The mortality of human rulers, says the biblical poet, makes them an unreliable source for salvation (“who cannot save”). They may die suddenly before executing their rescue plan (v. 4)—unlike the eternal reliability of Yahweh, who “reigns forever” (v. 10). Small wonder the psalmist brackets Psalm 146 with appropriate calls to “Praise the LORD!” (vv. 1, 10b). He is, indeed, the only reliable Savior!

The truth that “the LORD reigns” and does what good kings do (i.e., rescues from danger, protects the weak from abuse, provides for the poor, etc.) gives earth’s people a prime reason to rejoice (Ps. 97:1). What a good, kind king he is:

He upholds the cause of the oppressed

and gives food to the hungry.

The LORD sets prisoners free,

the LORD gives sight to the blind,

the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,

the LORD loves the righteous.

The LORD watches over the alien

and sustains the fatherless and the widow,

but he frustrates the ways of the wicked. (Ps. 146:7–9)

Yahweh feeds the hungry, frees prisoners held against their will (as was Israel in Egypt), gives the blind their sight, and steadies those bearing heavy loads. He protects the especially vulnerable—the resident alien, the orphan, the widow—by stymieing cruel attempts to take unfair advantage of weakness. And he expects his earthly royal representatives—that is, any king, Israelite or otherwise, whom he appoints—to exercise a similar benevolent rule. Indeed—and this is an important point to which we will return below—there are two quick ways for a king to lose his throne: by denying Yahweh’s supremacy (Dan. 4:31) and by abusing his power (i.e., by favoring elites over the lowly; see Dan. 4:27).

The realities of human kingship. The human need for Yahweh’s salvation derives from this second theme. Above I briefly mentioned what kind of kings those listed in Joshua 12 were, and here I amplify this further. Susan Zuckerman aptly describes the larger historical scene at the time:

Syria and Canaan in the second millennium B.C.E. were divided into local kingdoms, ruled by local kings and managed by ruling elites. This situation is vividly reflected in the Amarna archive. The lavish lifestyles of these kings and their sometimes-extravagant palaces are often mentioned. The King of Hazor held a special position among his Canaanite peers. Abdi-Tirshi of Hazor is the only Canaanite vassal to be called “king” by other rulers and by himself. He aspired to acquire additional territories from his neighbors, the rulers of Tyre and Ashtaroth.46

Clearly, a social hierarchy headed by kings and a powerful bureaucracy dominated the daily lives of people in Syria and Canaan.47 One can imagine the kinds of demands placed on ordinary people to support such lavish royal lifestyles. Certainly, one demand was taxes on levied goods produced, and a levy of labor for royal building projects was another. A military draft of young men also probably preceded the king’s attempts to extend his realm into territory ruled by his competitor-kings. (Or the king may have had a standing army supported by taxes). Undoubtedly, many young troops paid the ultimate price in such royal ventures. One glimpses something of the cruelty that competing kings inflicted on each other in the comment of Adoni-Bezek, a king captured by Judah: “Seventy kings with their thumbs and big toes cut off have picked up scraps under my table. Now God has paid me B.C. for what I did to them” (Jdg. 1:7).48

The acropolis at Hazor shows three temples—the “Southern” and “Long” temples, and the “Royal Sanctuary”—that together comprise “a ceremonial religious precinct.”49 Although distance separated the palace from the temple precinct at Hazor, ancient kings typically sponsored the local cultic site and received religious legitimation from it for their rule. Socially, the gap between the rich (the king, the elites) and the poor was no doubt wide, with the latter vulnerable to the whim of the powerful—and powerless to defend themselves.

Palaces like those at Ugarit, Megiddo, and Hazor feature “royal portals” where special visitors performed religious rituals. They are entrances reserved exclusively for international VIPs: royal ambassadors from other leading cities, international businessmen, and other distinguished guests of the king. Of course, these entrances were off-limits to ordinary residents.50 Implicit in this description is an indictment of oppressive royal hegemony and also of the alliance between the kings and their gods. These mark the underbelly of the realities of ancient royal leadership. They offer justification for the dismantling of this system in Joshua 2–11 and perhaps imply that dismantling as divine judgment.

Two primary biblical voices, each in a farewell speech, warn Israel of the risky dangers in having a king. Moses instructs Israel not to have a king like those of other nations, while Samuel surveys the downside of monarchical leadership. But the following chart of their main points further fleshes out what the Canaanite kings of Joshua 12 were like.

According to Moses, the typical trappings of ancient monarchy include: intimidating military might (many horses), enviable prestige embodied in a large harem (many wives, including marriages to seal international alliances), and very great wealth (silver and gold). In Wright’s words, “Weapons, women, and wealth. Why else be a king?”51 Samuel’s description underscores the perks that kings pursue and their price tag for the populace. It repeats the key phrase “he (the king) will take … ,” implying the victims of his “taking” have no say in the matter. It is the people whose sons man his military and tend his lands, whose daughters serve in his palace, whose fields and flocks supply his royal table and fund his lavish lifestyle. In essence, they are slaves to his demands. Thus, the list of defeated kings in Joshua 12 memorializes the end of Canaan’s corrupt, oppressive social system—in itself, a kind of “salvation.” Their fall should not surprise us, for as Elihu told Job:

Moses Things Forbidden (Deut. 17:14–20)

Samuel Things To Expect (1 Sam. 8:11–18)

Chosen by people, not God (v. 15a) Possible non-Israelite king (v. 15b) A large stable of horses (v. 16a) Return trips to Egypt to buy them (v. 16b) Multiple, foreign-born, royal wives (v. 17a) Large silver and gold holdings (v. 17b) Lack of reverence for God (vv. 18–19a) Disobedience of God’s law (v. 19b) Social superiority over fellow Israelites (v. 20)

Draft of sons as enlisted military (v. 11) Commission of sons as military officers (v. 12a) Draft of sons to tend and harvest royal lands (v. 12b) Draft of sons into war industries (v. 12c) Draft of daughters to serve the royal palace (v. 13) Demand for the best agricultural products to supply his personal staff (v. 14) Ten-percent tax to pay other royal officials (v. 15) Demand for laborers and “best” cattle/donkeys for himself (v. 16) Ten-percent tax of flocks (v. 17a) Enslavement of the populace (v. 17b) A deaf-ear from God to their cries (v. 18)

Can he who hates justice govern?

Will you condemn the just and mighty One?

Is he not the One who says to kings, ‘You are worthless,’

and to nobles, ‘You are wicked,’

who shows no partiality to princes

and does not favor the rich over the poor … ?

Without inquiry he shatters the mighty

and sets up others in their place.…

He punishes them for their wickedness

where everyone can see them.…

They caused the cry of the poor to come before him,

so that he heard the cry of the needy. (Job 34:17–19, 24, 26, 28)

The implication is that when God deposes kings, it is B.C.use they ignored the cries of people in need and favored the rich over the poor. They were partial. “He who hates justice” cannot govern at all.

And so Joshua 12 remembers their just demise. It recalls the end of their royal pretensions much as Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias” does:

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,

Half sunk, a shatter’d visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamp’d on these lifeless things,

The hand that mock’d them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

Nothing beside remains: round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.52

Now, at the end of the day, when the reader finishes reading “thirty-one kings in all” (v. 24), is there really no king left? No, there is one still standing—Almighty King Yahweh, Israel’s God. In fact, he is the only real “King of all the earth,” who “reigns over the nations”—the Greatly Exalted One to whom earth’s kings belong (Ps. 47:7–9). All others are mere pretenders. And, as we will now see, his royal sovereignty still continues.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

IN MY VIEW, YAHWEH still reigns today through another king, Jesus Christ, the Son of God. The New Testament portrays Jesus’ entry into the city of Jerusalem—the event we celebrate each year on Palm Sunday—as the arrival of Israel’s long-awaited messianic king (Matt. 21:1–11; cf. Isa. 11:1–5; Zech. 9:9). But John’s Revelation also recognizes in the Lamb (i.e., Jesus) someone who is more than just a Jewish king. He is the supreme king—“King of kings and Lord of lords” (Rev. 19:16; cf. 17:14). Thus, the affirmation “there is no king but Jesus” (see below) forms the basis for the contemporary significance of Joshua 12.

The New Testament reports that Jesus came announcing that the long-awaited kingdom of God had finally arrived (Mark 1:14–15; Luke 4:18–21). More important, it accords him a level of honor that smacks of kingship—for example, Paul’s comment that one day every knee will bow before the name of Jesus (Phil. 2:10). Four questions will guide the discussion that follows: Do we need a king? Why call Jesus “king”? What kind of king is King Jesus? If Jesus is king, so what?

Do we need a king? Some time ago, a senior enlisted person retired from the Navy after nearly three decades of service. She permanently entered the day-to-day civilian world for the first time in a long time. After few weeks, she returned to the base to visit the office from which she had retired.

“How’s it going out there in the civilian life, Chief?” someone asked.

“Oh, it’s just terrible,” she said straightforwardly.

“‘Terrible’? What’s wrong?”

“Well,” the chief said, “just think about it a moment: all those people running around and nobody in charge!”

Every society navigates between the magnetic poles of order on the one hand, and chaos on the other. In my view, behind this stands something inherent in the cosmos since creation. In fact, the concept of chaotic forces formed part of the worldview of ancient peoples. Biblically, one glimpses this in two well-known passages, the first creation account (Gen. 1) and the flood story (Gen. 6–9). The former has watery chaos in mind when it describes the earth as “formless and empty,” covered with deep waters, and shrouded in darkness (Gen. 1:2). Through creation, God bends the forces of chaos to his will and permanently establishes an orderly, stable (i.e., nonchaotic) universe.

In the flood story, however, in judgment God releases the “springs of the great deep” and throws open the “floodgates of the heavens” (Gen. 7:11). He temporarily returns the earth to its former, watery, chaotic state. Much ancient Near Eastern religion aimed at keeping the frightening forces of chaos at bay, and in my opinion, similar, primal fears of disorder still lurk in the human psyche. Nothing more unsettles people than the frightening feeling that things are somehow “out of control” with no one in charge.

Recent events in North America probably have stirred the same feelings. Since the events of September 11, 2001, a series of terrorist attacks in various countries have kept Western democracies on high alert to thwart new threats. Some politicians continue to warn that “we’re at war”—the war on terror—and counsel a high level of vigilance. Passage through airport security checkpoints reminds ordinary people that they are less secure than they once were. At the same time, some worry about the possible erosion of historic civil liberties as governments pursue potential terrorists through exceptional means.

Meanwhile, unexpected violent events at schools and businesses, in some cases with multiple fatalities, certainly raise popular anxiety about the threat that emotionally troubled people might suddenly pose to the safety of one’s family. Economic globalization, including the shift of many jobs to places outside North America, signals that the world is changing—and beyond one’s control. Many North Americans experience this personally (as I did recently) when consulting a telephone help desk with the speaker in India. The influx of immigrants and their increasing visibility even in small towns creates situations where cultural misunderstandings, and perhaps even suspicions, unsettle people with limited prior cross-cultural experience.

Finally, a concern is growing that global warming may, in fact, be a threatening reality caused by human lifestyles and that we may be approaching (or have already passed) the point of no return in reversing it.

In short, rapid modern communications means that the world is very much with us—and not happily so. An uneasiness, if not outright fear, simmers beneath the surface of many hearts. The need for “kings”—for able prime ministers, presidents, governors, business leaders, pastors, school teachers, parents, and so on—is enormous. People are eager for them to take charge, to solve problems, and to reduce popular anxiety. But a nagging feeling persists that the size of some problems may ultimately be beyond human resolution.

What particularly moves me, however, are the ongoing pressures I sense people face today. The schedules young families keep, especially when both parents work or when one parent home-schools several children, are daunting. The demands of school (or home-school) are big enough, but the addition of healthy after-school activities significantly increases the strain. At an intersection near my home, I occasionally see their vans dutifully shuttling kids to ballet or music lessons, soccer or swimming practice, church activities or shopping trips to the mall. To say they live “busy lives” is an understatement. The organizational skills and sheer physical stamina required can prove challenging.

What about the financial pressures to fund the feeding, clothing, educating, entertaining, and multiactivity expected of them? Then come the standardized tests that, at least in my state, determine whether their eighth-graders can enter the best public high school. Parents often have to help kids deal with disappointment over the results, but then the crusade to gain admission to a good college or university begins. It requires its own relentless pursuit of academics and activities, all while the teens traverse the emotional highs and lows of high school relationships. Both parents and kids truly need a strong and wise king to help them navigate the fleeting years and all that life and society throw at them. Thankfully, instead of the self-centered kings of ancient Canaan, they have Jesus Christ as their potential friend and guide.

Why call Jesus “king”? In the popular movie The Lion King, King Mufasa proudly rules the Pride Lands as king of the jungle from his home at Pride Rock. His son is Simba, a fun-loving, rambunctious lion cub whose childhood adventures and maturing process mark a central theme of the film. In one delightful scene, Simba and the hornbill Zazu discuss the fact that the cub will one day succeed his father as king. Much to Zazu’s dismay, Simba revels in the happy prospect of B.C.ming king in the song, “I Just Can’t Wait to be King.” Proudly, he looks forward to being the one in charge rather than having to obey the orders of others. To that end, he is practicing looking down on people and sharpening the terror of his roar. His special joy will be the freedom to do whatever he wants and to hold the spotlight of everyone’s attention. He can hardly wait to have all eyes riveted on him as he publicly struts his royal stuff. In the song, thoughts of his wonderful royal future erupt in his repeated, enthusiastic cry, “Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!”

Simba’s understanding of kingship approaches that of the Canaanite kings. His goal is to terrify enemies and to boss people around with his “roar.” It brings a freedom to do whatever one pleases rather than to obey the orders of others. It guarantees him the starring role in the spotlight at center stage, all eyes on him alone. Alas, Simba and the Canaanite kings have many descendants today, each thinking, “Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!” Politicians, religious leaders, famous athletes, film idols, rock stars, and founders of movements all proclaim, “Follow me!” They eagerly B.C.on for enthronement as king—or, at least, as “kingpins.” Given the felt-need for either, many garner sizeable followings.

What rightful claim does Jesus have to being king? Why choose him over modern Canaanite ones? The simple answer is that the God whom the Old Testament celebrates as king appointed him as David’s successor. Recall that, for all practical purposes, the four-century-long run of the Davidic monarchy ended with the death of King Jehoiachin in Babylon (mid-sixth cent. B.C.). When Judah returned from exile in 538 B.C., it did not reestablish the monarchy, but the prophetic hope of a future new David remained strong (see Isa. 11:1; Am. 9:11; Mic. 5:2). Recall, further, that the Old Testament refers to each ruling Davidic descendant as the “anointed of the LORD” or “his/your/my anointed one” (mašiaḥ). The LXX translates mašiaḥ literally as christos (“anointed one”), which B.C.mes “Christ” or “the Christ” in English (e.g., Matt. 2:4; 16:16; Luke 23:35; Acts 2:36).53 In short, when his contemporaries quizzed Jesus about being “the Christ,” they wanted to know if he was the long-awaited new David or (in our terms) “the Messiah” (Mark 14:61; Luke 22:67).54

By tracing Jesus’ genealogy to David (“son of David,” Matt. 1:1), Matthew connects Jesus with the prophecies and undergirds his identification of Jesus as “Christ” and “the Christ” (Matt. 1:16–17). Those seemingly simple words stamp Jesus as the long-expected king sent by God himself to transform history. They form the context in which to hear two early confessions of Jesus—in reality, two surrenders to his kingship. The first is by Peter (“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Matt. 16:16]), the second by Nathaniel (“Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel” [John 1:49]). They still supply the words by which people of all times and places may voice their own submission to this king.

Jesus—what kind of king? Joshua 5–11 pictures the kings of Canaan as monarchs willing to go to war against Israel and Yahweh in order to preserve their political power (cf. Josh. 2:2–3). As noted above, the Amarna Letters from Egypt (fourteenth cent. B.C.) portray them as conspiratorial royal rivals of each other and somewhat abusive of their subjects. The really important question for us, however, concerns how Jesus compares to other kings familiar to us, including modern Canaanite ones. One thing, first of all, sets the reign of Jesus apart: He is a good king. Ponder a statement from Peter’s talk before the household of the Gentile, Cornelius:

You know what has happened throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached—how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, B.C.use God was with him. (Acts 10:37–38, my italics)

Empowered by the Holy Spirit and God’s presence, Peter says simply, Jesus “went around doing good.…” Several things strike me about this simple testimony. (1) “Went around” (Gk. dierxomai, lit., “went through”) seems to picture Jesus as passing through the midst of the places he visited. My mind, thus, imagines him mobbed by crowds as he enters and makes his way through each town or village. The people are thinking, “Wow, the famous Rabbi has come to our B.C.water!” It is a Jesus who mills among the locals shaking hands, giving occasional hugs, joking with the crowd, and asking about what has been going on. It is a Jesus who loves ordinary people and loves to be with them.

That picture could not more starkly contrast what I witness when today’s kingpins venture out in public: a helicopter gently lands them behind an impenetrable wall of security personnel; or a phalanx of siren-squealing, lights-flashing motorcycle police leads a caravan of black limousines with darkly-tinted, bullet-proof windows to the protective wall waiting a short drive away. Most of the eager crowd will barely catch a quick glimpse of the famous passenger. A walk to shake hands, much less josh, with onlookers is still done occasionally but thought awfully risky. The only “handlers” are aides and security agents who crowd around their celebrity through his or her every move.

(2) As he passed through the crowd, Jesus was “doing good.” Peter omits details, but, again, my imagination pictures something other than an aloof, security-conscious Jesus. I see him pausing along the way to teach the crowds, to pray for individuals in particular need, to encourage the elderly with a smile or kind word, and to listen to what is on everyone’s mind. I imagine him stopping to play with children, to kid the street merchants about giving him a good bargain, to discuss local problems with the village elders, and to wave smilingly at people on the rooftops. I picture him organizing the disciples into impromptu work groups to help repair a home, pave a street, fetch needed water, or do some heavy lifting. Definitely not the smiling, waving, aloof modern kingpin who in reality seems to be fleeing for his or her life! Instead, he models for us a down-and-dirty, feet-on-the-ground, up-close-and-personal engagement in the lives and struggles of the people around us today.

Peter singles out one “good” activity, his “healing [of] all who were under the power of the devil, B.C.use God was with him.” Rare is the kingpin today who bothers with the mentally ill, the unclean, the unkempt, the depressed, the lonely, and the grieving. But not so with Jesus. He not only bothered, but he brought God’s powerful presence wherever he went. A kingpin’s fear or loathing might avert his eyes from looking and quicken his steps to escape the danger, but not Jesus. He went right up to the demon-possessed, the deranged, and the dirty. He even—are you ready for this?—touched them! To him the demons, dirt, and derangement smacked of a cruel servitude reminiscent of Canaan’s ancient kings. His power healed them, freeing them from racking torments and restoring them to joyous health and sound minds. And Jesus is still the great healer. He can still put shattered lives B.C. together, repair brokenness, restore lost hope, sweeten bitter grief, and cast out all our inner demons. Listen to this, one of his royal decrees:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matt. 11:28–30)

What a different king is this Jesus! Canaanite-type kings ride in luxury on the bent B.C.s of weary workers, but Jesus promises refreshing “rest”—a break from B.C.-breaking labor—and only “light” and “easy” burdens. That is the kind of king that pressured people today want—a “good king” unlike any other.

Jesus is also a king who saves. This dimension of Jesus’ kingship first appears among the Bible’s most familiar texts, the birth narratives. For example, as Joseph ponders a quiet divorce from his pregnant fiancé, Mary, in a dream an angel advises him instead to marry her. The angel also commands him to give her son the name Jesus, “B.C.use he will save his people from their sin,” and he did so (Matt. 1:21, 25). The angel puns on the name, Jesus (Gk. Iesous), the LXX word for “Joshua” (Heb. yešuʿa, probably “Yahweh is help”).55 The wordplay connects him with the promised “help” (i.e., salvation) from sin. Similarly, the angel announces to the shepherds the birth in Bethlehem of “a Savior”—“Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). These texts echo the Old Testament idea of salvation as rescue out of danger.

Later, in his home at Jericho, the once-corrupt tax collector Zacchaeus responds to Jesus’ surprising visit by repenting of his shady past. He promises to contribute half his net worth to the poor and to repay his victims four times the amount he cheated them—apparently, obeying the law of theft (Ex. 22:1). Jesus then announces, “Today salvation has come to this house”—“salvation” in the sense of divine help that transforms one’s way of life so that he escapes punishment. It all results, Jesus adds, from the fact that Jesus’ mission is to “seek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:8–10). As Evans says, “Jesus calls all to repentance, religious and irreligious, healthy and sick, rich and poor.”56

Our Palm Sunday celebrations also remember that Jesus is a king who saves. As is well known, in Matthew’s view Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem amid the approving, palm-waving throng fulfills Zechariah 9:9. The latter foretells the coming of a future, gentle king (the Messiah) who enters the city on a donkey as had Solomon at his accession (1 Kings 1:38, 44). The donkey is not a war horse and, hence, signals that the king is on a goodwill mission.57 The people’s spreading of cloaks and branches on the roadway probably also marks the moment as a festive one like the Feast of Tabernacles (cf. 2 Kings 9:13).

For our purposes, however, the item to highlight is the series of cries that sweep the crowd as the royal procession escorting Jesus inside proceeds. They shout: “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Blessed is the King of Israel!” (John 12:13). “Hosanna” is the Greek transliteration of the Aramaic form of hošiʿa naʾ, from Psalm 118:25, the traditional cry to Yahweh for help discussed in the previous section. By invoking that formula, the throng unwittingly welcomes the long-awaited new David with the shout that once greeted the old Davidic kings.58 They also unknowingly recognize him as Savior, the one whose royal procession will end with him hanging on a cross bearing the ironic sign, “King of the Jews.” He is, indeed, a king—but one who saves by giving his own life. And he still saves people today.

Above I pointed out that “to save” in the Old Testament has two senses, “to rescue” out of trouble and “to help” in the midst of it.59 As Savior, Jesus rescues us from all kinds of things. I know this from long years of personal experience, as do (I presume) many readers. His forgiveness unshackles the chains of sin that bind me, freeing me from my slavery to it. His power bails me out of the messes which I sometimes create for myself. His grace gently lifts me up when I fall so he and I can go on together. His patience also warmly embraces me when I fail him, and his smile dispels the dark clouds of discouragement and shame that often envelop me. His soothing presence shepherds me through the dark valleys of despair through which I sometimes must pass.

As Savior, Jesus also helps all of us persevere and survive amidst the troubles so common in daily life. He wisely helps us endure difficult job situations from which we find escape impossible. He firmly sustains us through trying circumstances that might otherwise overwhelm us. He lovingly lifts our spirits through moments when we get down on ourselves. He patiently reminds us that we belong to him when doubts or uncertainties weaken our faith. In short, Jesus is a Savior sufficient for our needs.

The highly-regarded movie Amazing Grace portrays the life of William Wilberforce, a member of the British Parliament whose dogged, determined efforts in the early nineteenth century ended slavery in the British empire. John Newton, the spiritual mentor from whom Wilberforce often sought guidance, also figures prominently in the film. (Its title derives from the title of the still popular hymn written by Newton). Newton was the leading evangelical Anglican clergyman at the time, a man who had himself once commanded British slave ships.

In his biography of Newton, John Pollock recounts the events surrounding Newton’s last days. Long known as a powerful preacher, at age eighty-two Newton insisted on trying to deliver one more sermon. But his feeble mind failed him, he lost his train of thought, and had to be led bewildered and confused down from the pulpit. Eventually, as he lay dying a few days before Christmas in 1807, he joked that he was all packed and waiting for the stagecoach to arrive. Then, his life ebbing away and heaven B.C.oning, he tried to say something. His friend William Jay leaned across the bed to catch Newton’s last words. Almost inaudibly he whispered, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner,” and, pausing to catch his breath, he managed to gasp: “and that Christ is a great Savior!”60

The quality of King Jesus leads me to respond in grateful surrender to that “great Savior.” The joy is so great, the wonder so vast, that the words fail fully to voice my experience of that king. But the theme of the song “Lord Reign in Me” by Brenton Brown does express my longing for his lordship—that he both rein me in and reign in me.

Finally, the final destiny of King Jesus is as victor over all other kings. The angry mob that dragged Jason and several other early Christians before the city officials in Thessalonica were right: Besides (indeed, in defiance of) Caesar, “there is another king, one called Jesus” (Acts 17:7). The cross and empty tomb signal his reality-transforming power that triumphs over sin, death, and the invisible powers currently at war with God (see Col. 2:15). Those triumphs pave the way for the spread of the gospel, the extension of his loving rule to people worldwide who accept his salvation and commit to his lordship.

Every day, my newspaper chronicles the chaos of today’s world: political uncertainty, the breakneck speed of change, wars between nations, economic competition between established and emerging nations, tyranny and oppression over the poor. As Joshua 12 remembers the final victory of Joshua and Israel over Canaan’s kings, so John’s vision of the end anticipates Jesus’ final victory over earth’s anti-God nations and economic interests at the second coming. Their demise brings long-waited relief to oppressed believers (Rev. 17–19).

In the vision, John sees “the [coming] punishment of the great prostitute” or Babylon. She is a stunning woman robed in the rich colors and glittering jewels of royalty—but also grotesquely drunk on the blood of Christian martyrs (Rev. 17:1, 4, 5). The “kings of the earth” have been her steady customers, the heady wine that her adulteries provide intoxicates the whole earth (v. 2), and its merchants B.C.me filthy rich by supplying her extravagant luxuries (18:3; cf. vv. 11–13). The woman’s title is Babylon, “the great city that rules over the kings of the earth” (vv. 5, 18), ruled by “the beast.” John’s audience would read the prostitute as Rome and its global empire, but she also symbolizes “the ‘global village’ of godless power, which determines daily life for every person at any time in human history.”61 In order that the new Jerusalem may replace Babylon (21:2), “the Lamb” and his followers will decisively defeat Babylon, the beast, and their royal allies. The defeat is certain precisely B.C.use the Lamb is “the Lord of lords and King of kings” (17:14).

Suddenly, an angel announces Babylon’s coming fate: “Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great” (18:2; cf. 14:8; Am. 5:2). She is justly going to receive B.C. what she cruelly dished out to the world—a fiery end from God’s hand for all her killing (18:6, 8). The angel warns Christians to leave the city immediately, lest her sins stain them and they share her doom (Rev. 18:4; cf. Gen. 18–19). The warning follows up one of the book’s central themes, the call for Christians to resist strong social pressures bent on the corruption of their faith (Rev. 2:10, 13; 3:21; 14:12). The announcement of Babylon’s fate plunges into mourning her royal allies, her suppliers of luxury, and the merchant fleet that delivered the goods (18:9–19).

But the angel calls for “saints and apostles and prophets” to rejoice B.C.use “God has judged her for the way she treated you” (Rev. 18:20). Suddenly, John hears the reaction in heaven to Babylon’s fall, a huge throng shouting, “Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God” (19:1). From the heavenly throne a voice calls, “Praise our God, all you his servants, you who fear him, both small and great!” (19:5). The heavenly multitude obeys with a thunderous shout: “For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready” (19:6–7).

But another event intervenes before the wedding supper, the second coming of Christ, which John displays in three short visions (19:11–16, 17–18, 19–21).62 Only the first one will concern us here. In it John sees a white horse in heaven, a symbol of victory, with a rider called Faithful and True (19:11a). He leads heaven’s armies, also arrayed in white and riding white horses (v. 14). In pursuing justice and war, his fiery, blazing eyes can penetrate human pretensions and facades truly to discern guilt from innocence (vv. 11b–12). His name is “the Word of God,” a reference to his incarnation as Messiah (v. 13; cf. John 1), and he defeats the nations with an unconventional sword. It comes out of his mouth, probably a reference to the proclamation of the gospel message about Christ’s faithfulness to God. That proclamation exposes the contrary claims of the anti-Christian kingdom and its rulers for what they are—lies and deceptions. It also confirms that God’s condemnation of nations that operate similarly is just (cf. Heb. 4:11–12).

Strikingly, unlike Joshua 2–11, no battles and bloodshed take place (but see Rev. 19:21). Instead, the focus falls on God’s judgment of evil and the display of the rider’s royal rule as “King of kings and Lord of lords” (vv. 15–16). The overthrow of royal Canaanite hegemony introduced a completely new order in Canaan (Josh. 1–11). What Wall calls “the future apocalyptic eruption of God’s salvation within human history” through the return of Jesus will likewise shove phony kings and their elites aside, end their cruelty toward common people, establish God’s kingdom on earth, and vindicate the messianic work of Jesus Christ.63 God’s final triumph radically alters human existence, both its social and spiritual dimensions, and brings it into alignment with the good wishes that the creator intends for it.64

These events are the source of hope for all who struggle to remain faithful to Jesus and of personal vindication for all who have suffered injustice. It resoundingly answers the anguished prayers of Christians who have rotted in stinking prisons for their faith in Jesus. It satisfies the longing of anyone socially slighted or subtly demeaned for their ethnicity, gender, physical limitations, or religious faith. It holds out pleasant reward for the faithful, patient endurance of anyone whose commitment to Jesus has been ridiculed. It finally brings justice to every innocent slave secretly hung beside some lonely American road. It firmly avenges the deaths of helpless would-be immigrants who died at the hands of unscrupulous smugglers. It holds out hope to those engaged in the cause of social justice of a future final justice to rid the world of its evils. Indeed, it lifts the spirits of all who worship and serve Jesus as King of kings and Lord of lords.

From all corners of the globe, all who anxiously await this grand day of final salvation joyously add their voice to that of the heavenly chorus: “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory!” (Rev. 19:6–7). With Tertullian, their spirits soar on the wings of the conviction that “Christ’s name is extending everywhere, believed everywhere, worshiped by all the … nations, reigning everywhere, adored everywhere, conferred equally everywhere upon all.”65

In the spirit and form of Joshua 12, the reading below puts the hope of King Jesus’ final triumph into words for today. The format makes it suitable as a reading for public worship.

In Celebration of the King of Kings: A Reading

Leader:	The final conquest of evil human rulers awaits the return of our Lord Jesus. Today we celebrate that coming great day of victory by our Savior in a way that Joshua 12 celebrated that of an earlier “savior.” We do so to embrace Jesus as our triumphant King of kings and Lord of lords. Let me inquire … How many pharaohs remain who cruelly enslave God’s people?
Women:	None.
Leader:	How many Caesars who martyr the Christian faithful?
Men:	None.
Leader:	How many tyrants who beat, maim, and imprison believers?
All:	None.
Leader:	How many mayors who cater to the rich and ignore the poor?
Men:	None.
Leader:	How many scoundrels who defraud the weak, vulnerable, and elderly?
Women:	None.
Leader:	How many kings, presidents, tsars, and premiers remain besides Jesus?
All:	None.
Leader:	How many kings other than Jesus rule in our hearts and lives?
All:	None.
Leader:	John wrote in his vision, “Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: ‘Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns.” [PAUSE]
	How many kings will we serve?
All:	One! [PAUSE]
	Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. (1 Tim. 1:17)

Original Meaning

The Fallen Western Kings (12:7–24)

Narrative Preface (vv. 7–8)

NARRATIVE PREFACE (VV. 7–8). Now comes the list of the thirty-one kings whom Joshua and the Israelites struck down west of the Jordan (lit., “seaward”)—a recapitulation of Joshua 6–11. The narrative preface by the Deuteronomistic Historian (vv. 7–8) begins by invoking the “from X to Y” formula to map out the territory won by the defeat of Canaan’s kings (vv. 7–8). The description echoes 11:17 and 23 and runs from way north to way south—from Baal Gad in the Valley of Lebanon to Mount Halak (see comments at 11:17). The report is anachronistic, affirming in advance what is to come later (see also 11:23), namely, that Joshua did in Cisjordan what Moses did in Transjordan (v. 6b). Joshua gave it to Israel tribe-by-tribe as their “(family) inheritance” (Heb. yeruššah; NIV “possession”; cf. v. 6).13

In addition, the Deuteronomistic Historian invokes a traditional list of Canaan’s main geographical regions (see 10:40; 11:16) to picture all the places where their new inheritance lands lie: the hill country, the western lowlands, the Great Rift Valley, the mountain slopes, the desert, and the Negev (v. 8a). The literary effect is to reaffirm the earlier claim that “Joshua took the whole land” (Josh. 11:16, 23) and to foreshadow its upcoming distribution.14

Finally, the text offers a traditional list of the six peoples over whom the kings presided and who went down to defeat with them—the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites (v. 8b).15 Literarily, the wedding of geography and people groups underscores how impressive and complete the Conquest is.16

The List Proper (vv. 9–24)

The list proper (vv. 9–24). To reinforce this point, a stylized list of kings now follows (vv. 9–24), and its formal layout in MT is particularly striking (see NIV).17 Except for v. 24 (one king plus the total), each line lists two kings in stereotyped form—“The king of City-X … one … the king of City-Y … one”—as if the reader/audience were counting them.18 The conquest narrative (Josh. 6–11) occasionally names the kings (see 10:3, 33; 11:1), but the list here only identifies each king by his city (or, in one case, by region). The literary effect is to highlight their social position and the fact they are all gone. In Nelson’s words, “The incessant repetition ‘king of’ nails down the total defeat of the system of Canaanite city-states.”19

As for genre, the list compares to two ancient types of lists, the royal list of conquests (see above) and the lists of names or items followed by numbers or tally marks.20 As noted above, however, the list specifically concerns the kings (not the cities) conquered. In fact, the king of Gezer met defeat at Lachish, not at his capital (10:33; cf. 12:12), while the king of Jerusalem died with his four royal allies outside the cave of Makkedah (10:23, 26).21 Also, the list includes nine cities not mentioned in the conquest narrative and presents four in an order different from that in the narrative.22 As Nelson notes, the inclusion of previously unmentioned cities suggests that “the stories told represent only an illustrative sample of a larger struggle.”23

This also suggests that the list may derive from an ancient source from which the conquest narrative drew its basic outline.24 The existence of a prior list might explain why 12:19–20 lists Hazor second among the four-king northern coalition whereas 11:1 has Hazor as its head. Further, readers familiar with Joshua 6–11 readily recognize four sections within the list: (1) Jericho and Ai mark a kind of basic pattern for what follows (12:9);25 (2) verses 10–12a list the five-city, Jerusalem-led coalition executed at Makkedah (and in the same order as 10:3); (3) verses 12b–16a incorporate four cities (Makkedah, Libnah, Gezer, Debir) conquered in the southern campaign (albeit in different order from 10:28–33) but whose kings escaped execution at Makkedah; (4) verses 19–20 list the four-party northern coalition from Josh. 11 (but with Hazor second, as noted above). The inclusion of five cities from the land’s center unmentioned in Joshua 6–11 (vv. 16b–18) gives the list a smooth geographic flow through Canaan’s southern, central, and northern parts.26

Finally, brief clarification concerning the cities omitted from the conquest begins with the four Judean ones. That the Hebrew root gadar underlies several city names (e.g., Beth-gader, Gederah, etc.) makes identification of Geder (v. 13b; lit., “wall”) difficult. If Geder equals Gedor (15:58), it would lie about six miles north of Hebron,27 but its context within the list also suggests possible locations in the southern Judean foothills (i.e., near Debir [12:13]) or in the northern Negev (near Arad and Hormah [v. 14]).28 Hormah (v. 14a; cf. Num. 14:45) also defies precise identification but may be Tel Masos, a site a few miles east of Beersheba,29 while archaeological evidence firmly establishes Arad (v. 14b) at Tel-Arad, northeast of Tel Masos.30 Adullam (v. 15b) lies in Judah’s western lowlands about twelve miles northwest of Hebron. The locations of two cities in the central hill country are well established: Bethel (v. 16b) is tel-Beitin ten miles north of Jerusalem, and Tappuah (v. 17a) stands twelve miles north of Bethel. Less certain but probable are the locations of Hepher (v. 17b) at Tel-Muhafar, a few miles south of Megiddo,31 and Aphek (v. 18a) in the Sharon Plain about eighteen miles west of Tappuah, with Lasharon (v. 18b) probably somewhere nearby.32

Of the six northern cities, the identification of four are fairly certain. Taanach (v. 21a; Tel-Tiʿinnik), Megiddo (v. 21b), and Jokneam (v. 22b) all sit a few miles apart along the ridge overlooking the Jezreel Valley. Taanach and Megiddo guard a heavily-traveled mountain pass that connects the valley with the Sharon Plain.33 Tirzah (v. 24a), the first capital of the later northern kingdom (1 Kings 14:17; 15:21, 33; 16:8, 15, 23), is probably Tel el-Farʿah North, about seven miles northeast of Shechem. It occupies a hilltop between two springs at the head of the Wadi Farʿah, a small, fertile valley whose river flows down to the Jordan.34

Kedesh (v. 22a) is probably Tel Abu Qudeis, a small mound in the Jezreel Valley between Taanach and Megiddo.35 Finally, Goyim in Gilgal (v. 23b) strikes some readers as a strange name since Goyim in Hebrew means “non-Israelite peoples,” and the Bible attests no northern city of Gilgal. “Goim of Galilee” in LXX compares stylistically to the two places it follows in the list and makes a little more sense. It could designate a city (cf. Harosheth Haggoyim, the hometown of Sisera [Judg. 4:2]), or a region (cf. “Galilee of the Goyim” [Isa. 9:1(8:23)]) somewhere in the north.36

With “the king of Tirzah … one … thirty-one kings in all” the curtain falls on the long conquest narrative, leaving a moment of silence on stage. In that moment, the reader senses how vast was the sweep of Joshua’s victories. As Hawk writes, “the repetitive listing of defeated kings creates a cumulative effect much greater than the sum of its parts.”37 Further, the juxtaposition of thirty-one kings and the repeated word “one” serves to contrast Canaan’s royal plurality with Israel’s oneness. Again, Hawk captures the point: “The list thus sets the multiplicity of Canaan against the constancy of oneness.”38

The total triumph comes from one God, Yahweh, and one united people, Israel. Besides drawing the conquest to a close, the list also literarily anticipates what follows. With Tirzah, the list returns the reader to the Israelite heartland, the place where the long process of allocation will soon begin. Further, the roster omits significant ancient cities—notably, Shechem—thus foreshadowing the theme of unconquered land with which the following chapter opens.39

Bridging Contexts

Bridging Contexts

JOSHUA 12 IS ABOUT kings whom Israel defeated, events whose importance earned them mention in Psalms 135 and 136. Those passages single out the east-bank Amorite kings, Sihon and Og, as representative of the larger group of fallen monarchs, and both credit the victories to Yahweh alone rather than to human heroes.40 In Psalm 135, an individual affirms Yahweh’s greatness and authority over both creation and history: “He struck down many nations and killed mighty kings … and … gave their land as an inheritance … to his people Israel” (135:10, 12). In Psalm 136, a group thanksgiving liturgy, the parallel claims “[he] struck down great kings” // “and killed mighty kings” evoke the audience reply, “His love [ḥesed] endures forever” (136:17).

Interestingly, similar phrases about the same events evince associations with at least two different truths about Yahweh’s character—his sovereign greatness and his covenant love (ḥesed). To prepare for the next section, however, we explore two themes: Yahweh’s unquestioned authority, and the realities of human kingship.

Yahweh’s unquestioned authority. NeB.C.adnezzar learned the hard way that Yahweh does not share his sovereignty with anyone—period! Recall the scene in which Daniel both “tells” and “interprets” the king’s dream (in contrast to only “interpreting”). The prophet affirms before the king that besides controlling times and seasons and dispensing wisdom and knowledge, Yahweh also “sets up kings and deposes them” (Dan. 2:21; cf. Ps. 47:9[10]).

Two chapters later, surveying greater Babylon from his palace roof, NeB.C.adnezzar forgets that truth and sadly runs afoul of Yahweh. Enchanted by the sparkling scene below, he blurts out his true feelings: “Is not this the great Babylon I have built … by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). In essence, the king sings a praise chorus in his own honor—“How Great I Art!” (4:30). That very bad insult of Yahweh reveals how out of touch with reality the unfortunate king is and makes his punishment—temporary insanity as a grazing wild animal—fitting poetic justice. He remains so until he regains his senses—until he acknowledges that “the Most High is sovereign over the kingdoms of earth and gives them to anyone he wishes” (Dan. 4:32 TNIV).

This is no isolated incident. Two centuries earlier, the arrogant message that King Sennacherib of Assyria sent to intimidate Jerusalem into surrender similarly demeans Yahweh, an insult for which the king later paid with his life (2 Kings 18:29–35; 19:32–37). Other texts warn kings not to overstep their boundaries as subordinate to Yahweh. The Song of Deborah (Judg. 5) directly addresses kings (“Hear this, you kings!” [v. 3]), then sings a victory song about Yahweh’s defeat of “the kings of Canaan” under Sisera’s command at Taanach (v. 19; cf. Judg. 4). Yahweh’s cosmic forces engage them (“from the heavens the stars fought … against Sisera” [v. 20]) and his natural forces—in this case, the river Kishon—“swept them away” (vv. 20, 21). To conclude, the poet addresses Yahweh (“So may all your enemies perish, O LORD!” [v. 31]). By singing of Yahweh’s past victory the writer forewarns other kings of the dire consequences of crossing the line from subordinate to “enemy.”41

Psalm 2 issues a similar warning. At the outset, the writer finds the royal foolishness incredible (“Why do the nations conspire … in vain?” [v. 1]); to rebel against the Davidic king (“the LORD’s anointed”) is to attack Yahweh himself! (vv. 2–3).42 The sight of this foolhardiness causes God, enthroned in heaven, to burst out laughing (v. 4). Laughter gives way to rebuke—and to Yahweh’s reassertion of his prior decree that designated the Israelite king as his on-site ruler for earth (vv. 5–9; cf. 2 Sam. 7).43 The psalmist concludes the poem with a warning for earth’s kings. If they are wise and wish to escape destruction, they will “serve the LORD with fear” and “kiss the Son”—i.e., acknowledge the king’s supreme authority—and enjoy the blessing of his protection (vv. 11–12).

Behind this psalm stands the important theme of Yahweh’s kingship over all creation and all creatures. “The LORD reigns” ensures the continuation of a stable universe (Ps. 93:1; 96:10). It also provides them a cosmic Supreme Court from which to receive justice for their complaints and vengeance on their oppressors (Ps. 94:2, 23; 99:4).

The experience of abuse and oppression underscores an additional aspect of God’s reign, his role as rescuer. “The LORD reigns” gives the oppressed a refuge to which to flee for protection, an ear alert to hear anguished cries, and a mighty deliverer from deathly dangers (Ps. 9:9, 12, 13 [10, 13, 14]; cf. 97:10; 99:6, 7). Several times the psalmists address Yahweh with a special title, “God our Savior,” in appeals for deliverance from trouble (Ps. 65:5[6]; 68:19[20]; 79:9; 85:5; cf. 1 Chron. 16:34–36). Other psalmists cry, “Help me [hošiʿah], O king!” invoking the traditional Israelite appeal for help (lit., “Save!”) from Yahweh and his human, royal representative (2 Sam. 14:4; 2 Kings 6:26).44

Similarly, the psalmists invoke the word in anguished cries (“Help!”) to King Yahweh (Ps. 12:1[2]; 20:9[10]; 28:9; 60:5[7]; 108:6[7]). The situations from which such cries for divine intervention arise are practical and down-to-earth: ongoing enemy attacks, recent military defeats, and malicious talk within Israel; the defense of good people against bad people; and the restoration of Israel to divine favor. But one important clarification merits mention: Sometimes God’s salvation involves rescue (i.e., removal) from the danger, but in most cases it brings divine help “into a situation of distress or danger, to people where they are and where they need it.”45 This distinction will illumine our discussion in the next section.

Finally, Psalm 146:6 singles out two qualities of Yahweh that anchor his role as Savior and lead those who seek him to praise him. (1) Only he is the Creator, “the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them.” In other words, he has the means sufficient to save. If he acts, he can get the rescue job done without question. But how does one know that he will respond if called upon? (2) His second quality, his faithfulness (he “remains faithful forever”) affirms his unwavering commitment to the well-being of his people. He simply keeps his promises.

In other words, as awesome Creator, God has the means to help, and as faithful covenant-partner he has the will to help. That is why the psalmist exhorts fellow Israelites, “Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save” (Ps. 146:3). The mortality of human rulers, says the biblical poet, makes them an unreliable source for salvation (“who cannot save”). They may die suddenly before executing their rescue plan (v. 4)—unlike the eternal reliability of Yahweh, who “reigns forever” (v. 10). Small wonder the psalmist brackets Psalm 146 with appropriate calls to “Praise the LORD!” (vv. 1, 10b). He is, indeed, the only reliable Savior!

The truth that “the LORD reigns” and does what good kings do (i.e., rescues from danger, protects the weak from abuse, provides for the poor, etc.) gives earth’s people a prime reason to rejoice (Ps. 97:1). What a good, kind king he is:

He upholds the cause of the oppressed

and gives food to the hungry.

The LORD sets prisoners free,

the LORD gives sight to the blind,

the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,

the LORD loves the righteous.

The LORD watches over the alien

and sustains the fatherless and the widow,

but he frustrates the ways of the wicked. (Ps. 146:7–9)

Yahweh feeds the hungry, frees prisoners held against their will (as was Israel in Egypt), gives the blind their sight, and steadies those bearing heavy loads. He protects the especially vulnerable—the resident alien, the orphan, the widow—by stymieing cruel attempts to take unfair advantage of weakness. And he expects his earthly royal representatives—that is, any king, Israelite or otherwise, whom he appoints—to exercise a similar benevolent rule. Indeed—and this is an important point to which we will return below—there are two quick ways for a king to lose his throne: by denying Yahweh’s supremacy (Dan. 4:31) and by abusing his power (i.e., by favoring elites over the lowly; see Dan. 4:27).

The realities of human kingship. The human need for Yahweh’s salvation derives from this second theme. Above I briefly mentioned what kind of kings those listed in Joshua 12 were, and here I amplify this further. Susan Zuckerman aptly describes the larger historical scene at the time:

Syria and Canaan in the second millennium B.C.E. were divided into local kingdoms, ruled by local kings and managed by ruling elites. This situation is vividly reflected in the Amarna archive. The lavish lifestyles of these kings and their sometimes-extravagant palaces are often mentioned. The King of Hazor held a special position among his Canaanite peers. Abdi-Tirshi of Hazor is the only Canaanite vassal to be called “king” by other rulers and by himself. He aspired to acquire additional territories from his neighbors, the rulers of Tyre and Ashtaroth.46

Clearly, a social hierarchy headed by kings and a powerful bureaucracy dominated the daily lives of people in Syria and Canaan.47 One can imagine the kinds of demands placed on ordinary people to support such lavish royal lifestyles. Certainly, one demand was taxes on levied goods produced, and a levy of labor for royal building projects was another. A military draft of young men also probably preceded the king’s attempts to extend his realm into territory ruled by his competitor-kings. (Or the king may have had a standing army supported by taxes). Undoubtedly, many young troops paid the ultimate price in such royal ventures. One glimpses something of the cruelty that competing kings inflicted on each other in the comment of Adoni-Bezek, a king captured by Judah: “Seventy kings with their thumbs and big toes cut off have picked up scraps under my table. Now God has paid me B.C. for what I did to them” (Jdg. 1:7).48

The acropolis at Hazor shows three temples—the “Southern” and “Long” temples, and the “Royal Sanctuary”—that together comprise “a ceremonial religious precinct.”49 Although distance separated the palace from the temple precinct at Hazor, ancient kings typically sponsored the local cultic site and received religious legitimation from it for their rule. Socially, the gap between the rich (the king, the elites) and the poor was no doubt wide, with the latter vulnerable to the whim of the powerful—and powerless to defend themselves.

Palaces like those at Ugarit, Megiddo, and Hazor feature “royal portals” where special visitors performed religious rituals. They are entrances reserved exclusively for international VIPs: royal ambassadors from other leading cities, international businessmen, and other distinguished guests of the king. Of course, these entrances were off-limits to ordinary residents.50 Implicit in this description is an indictment of oppressive royal hegemony and also of the alliance between the kings and their gods. These mark the underbelly of the realities of ancient royal leadership. They offer justification for the dismantling of this system in Joshua 2–11 and perhaps imply that dismantling as divine judgment.

Two primary biblical voices, each in a farewell speech, warn Israel of the risky dangers in having a king. Moses instructs Israel not to have a king like those of other nations, while Samuel surveys the downside of monarchical leadership. But the following chart of their main points further fleshes out what the Canaanite kings of Joshua 12 were like.

According to Moses, the typical trappings of ancient monarchy include: intimidating military might (many horses), enviable prestige embodied in a large harem (many wives, including marriages to seal international alliances), and very great wealth (silver and gold). In Wright’s words, “Weapons, women, and wealth. Why else be a king?”51 Samuel’s description underscores the perks that kings pursue and their price tag for the populace. It repeats the key phrase “he (the king) will take … ,” implying the victims of his “taking” have no say in the matter. It is the people whose sons man his military and tend his lands, whose daughters serve in his palace, whose fields and flocks supply his royal table and fund his lavish lifestyle. In essence, they are slaves to his demands. Thus, the list of defeated kings in Joshua 12 memorializes the end of Canaan’s corrupt, oppressive social system—in itself, a kind of “salvation.” Their fall should not surprise us, for as Elihu told Job:

Moses Things Forbidden (Deut. 17:14–20)

Samuel Things To Expect (1 Sam. 8:11–18)

Chosen by people, not God (v. 15a) Possible non-Israelite king (v. 15b) A large stable of horses (v. 16a) Return trips to Egypt to buy them (v. 16b) Multiple, foreign-born, royal wives (v. 17a) Large silver and gold holdings (v. 17b) Lack of reverence for God (vv. 18–19a) Disobedience of God’s law (v. 19b) Social superiority over fellow Israelites (v. 20)

Draft of sons as enlisted military (v. 11) Commission of sons as military officers (v. 12a) Draft of sons to tend and harvest royal lands (v. 12b) Draft of sons into war industries (v. 12c) Draft of daughters to serve the royal palace (v. 13) Demand for the best agricultural products to supply his personal staff (v. 14) Ten-percent tax to pay other royal officials (v. 15) Demand for laborers and “best” cattle/donkeys for himself (v. 16) Ten-percent tax of flocks (v. 17a) Enslavement of the populace (v. 17b) A deaf-ear from God to their cries (v. 18)

Can he who hates justice govern?

Will you condemn the just and mighty One?

Is he not the One who says to kings, ‘You are worthless,’

and to nobles, ‘You are wicked,’

who shows no partiality to princes

and does not favor the rich over the poor … ?

Without inquiry he shatters the mighty

and sets up others in their place.…

He punishes them for their wickedness

where everyone can see them.…

They caused the cry of the poor to come before him,

so that he heard the cry of the needy. (Job 34:17–19, 24, 26, 28)

The implication is that when God deposes kings, it is B.C.use they ignored the cries of people in need and favored the rich over the poor. They were partial. “He who hates justice” cannot govern at all.

And so Joshua 12 remembers their just demise. It recalls the end of their royal pretensions much as Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias” does:

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,

Half sunk, a shatter’d visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamp’d on these lifeless things,

The hand that mock’d them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

Nothing beside remains: round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.52

Now, at the end of the day, when the reader finishes reading “thirty-one kings in all” (v. 24), is there really no king left? No, there is one still standing—Almighty King Yahweh, Israel’s God. In fact, he is the only real “King of all the earth,” who “reigns over the nations”—the Greatly Exalted One to whom earth’s kings belong (Ps. 47:7–9). All others are mere pretenders. And, as we will now see, his royal sovereignty still continues.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

IN MY VIEW, YAHWEH still reigns today through another king, Jesus Christ, the Son of God. The New Testament portrays Jesus’ entry into the city of Jerusalem—the event we celebrate each year on Palm Sunday—as the arrival of Israel’s long-awaited messianic king (Matt. 21:1–11; cf. Isa. 11:1–5; Zech. 9:9). But John’s Revelation also recognizes in the Lamb (i.e., Jesus) someone who is more than just a Jewish king. He is the supreme king—“King of kings and Lord of lords” (Rev. 19:16; cf. 17:14). Thus, the affirmation “there is no king but Jesus” (see below) forms the basis for the contemporary significance of Joshua 12.

The New Testament reports that Jesus came announcing that the long-awaited kingdom of God had finally arrived (Mark 1:14–15; Luke 4:18–21). More important, it accords him a level of honor that smacks of kingship—for example, Paul’s comment that one day every knee will bow before the name of Jesus (Phil. 2:10). Four questions will guide the discussion that follows: Do we need a king? Why call Jesus “king”? What kind of king is King Jesus? If Jesus is king, so what?

Do we need a king? Some time ago, a senior enlisted person retired from the Navy after nearly three decades of service. She permanently entered the day-to-day civilian world for the first time in a long time. After few weeks, she returned to the base to visit the office from which she had retired.

“How’s it going out there in the civilian life, Chief?” someone asked.

“Oh, it’s just terrible,” she said straightforwardly.

“‘Terrible’? What’s wrong?”

“Well,” the chief said, “just think about it a moment: all those people running around and nobody in charge!”

Every society navigates between the magnetic poles of order on the one hand, and chaos on the other. In my view, behind this stands something inherent in the cosmos since creation. In fact, the concept of chaotic forces formed part of the worldview of ancient peoples. Biblically, one glimpses this in two well-known passages, the first creation account (Gen. 1) and the flood story (Gen. 6–9). The former has watery chaos in mind when it describes the earth as “formless and empty,” covered with deep waters, and shrouded in darkness (Gen. 1:2). Through creation, God bends the forces of chaos to his will and permanently establishes an orderly, stable (i.e., nonchaotic) universe.

In the flood story, however, in judgment God releases the “springs of the great deep” and throws open the “floodgates of the heavens” (Gen. 7:11). He temporarily returns the earth to its former, watery, chaotic state. Much ancient Near Eastern religion aimed at keeping the frightening forces of chaos at bay, and in my opinion, similar, primal fears of disorder still lurk in the human psyche. Nothing more unsettles people than the frightening feeling that things are somehow “out of control” with no one in charge.

Recent events in North America probably have stirred the same feelings. Since the events of September 11, 2001, a series of terrorist attacks in various countries have kept Western democracies on high alert to thwart new threats. Some politicians continue to warn that “we’re at war”—the war on terror—and counsel a high level of vigilance. Passage through airport security checkpoints reminds ordinary people that they are less secure than they once were. At the same time, some worry about the possible erosion of historic civil liberties as governments pursue potential terrorists through exceptional means.

Meanwhile, unexpected violent events at schools and businesses, in some cases with multiple fatalities, certainly raise popular anxiety about the threat that emotionally troubled people might suddenly pose to the safety of one’s family. Economic globalization, including the shift of many jobs to places outside North America, signals that the world is changing—and beyond one’s control. Many North Americans experience this personally (as I did recently) when consulting a telephone help desk with the speaker in India. The influx of immigrants and their increasing visibility even in small towns creates situations where cultural misunderstandings, and perhaps even suspicions, unsettle people with limited prior cross-cultural experience.

Finally, a concern is growing that global warming may, in fact, be a threatening reality caused by human lifestyles and that we may be approaching (or have already passed) the point of no return in reversing it.

In short, rapid modern communications means that the world is very much with us—and not happily so. An uneasiness, if not outright fear, simmers beneath the surface of many hearts. The need for “kings”—for able prime ministers, presidents, governors, business leaders, pastors, school teachers, parents, and so on—is enormous. People are eager for them to take charge, to solve problems, and to reduce popular anxiety. But a nagging feeling persists that the size of some problems may ultimately be beyond human resolution.

What particularly moves me, however, are the ongoing pressures I sense people face today. The schedules young families keep, especially when both parents work or when one parent home-schools several children, are daunting. The demands of school (or home-school) are big enough, but the addition of healthy after-school activities significantly increases the strain. At an intersection near my home, I occasionally see their vans dutifully shuttling kids to ballet or music lessons, soccer or swimming practice, church activities or shopping trips to the mall. To say they live “busy lives” is an understatement. The organizational skills and sheer physical stamina required can prove challenging.

What about the financial pressures to fund the feeding, clothing, educating, entertaining, and multiactivity expected of them? Then come the standardized tests that, at least in my state, determine whether their eighth-graders can enter the best public high school. Parents often have to help kids deal with disappointment over the results, but then the crusade to gain admission to a good college or university begins. It requires its own relentless pursuit of academics and activities, all while the teens traverse the emotional highs and lows of high school relationships. Both parents and kids truly need a strong and wise king to help them navigate the fleeting years and all that life and society throw at them. Thankfully, instead of the self-centered kings of ancient Canaan, they have Jesus Christ as their potential friend and guide.

Why call Jesus “king”? In the popular movie The Lion King, King Mufasa proudly rules the Pride Lands as king of the jungle from his home at Pride Rock. His son is Simba, a fun-loving, rambunctious lion cub whose childhood adventures and maturing process mark a central theme of the film. In one delightful scene, Simba and the hornbill Zazu discuss the fact that the cub will one day succeed his father as king. Much to Zazu’s dismay, Simba revels in the happy prospect of B.C.ming king in the song, “I Just Can’t Wait to be King.” Proudly, he looks forward to being the one in charge rather than having to obey the orders of others. To that end, he is practicing looking down on people and sharpening the terror of his roar. His special joy will be the freedom to do whatever he wants and to hold the spotlight of everyone’s attention. He can hardly wait to have all eyes riveted on him as he publicly struts his royal stuff. In the song, thoughts of his wonderful royal future erupt in his repeated, enthusiastic cry, “Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!”

Simba’s understanding of kingship approaches that of the Canaanite kings. His goal is to terrify enemies and to boss people around with his “roar.” It brings a freedom to do whatever one pleases rather than to obey the orders of others. It guarantees him the starring role in the spotlight at center stage, all eyes on him alone. Alas, Simba and the Canaanite kings have many descendants today, each thinking, “Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!” Politicians, religious leaders, famous athletes, film idols, rock stars, and founders of movements all proclaim, “Follow me!” They eagerly B.C.on for enthronement as king—or, at least, as “kingpins.” Given the felt-need for either, many garner sizeable followings.

What rightful claim does Jesus have to being king? Why choose him over modern Canaanite ones? The simple answer is that the God whom the Old Testament celebrates as king appointed him as David’s successor. Recall that, for all practical purposes, the four-century-long run of the Davidic monarchy ended with the death of King Jehoiachin in Babylon (mid-sixth cent. B.C.). When Judah returned from exile in 538 B.C., it did not reestablish the monarchy, but the prophetic hope of a future new David remained strong (see Isa. 11:1; Am. 9:11; Mic. 5:2). Recall, further, that the Old Testament refers to each ruling Davidic descendant as the “anointed of the LORD” or “his/your/my anointed one” (mašiaḥ). The LXX translates mašiaḥ literally as christos (“anointed one”), which B.C.mes “Christ” or “the Christ” in English (e.g., Matt. 2:4; 16:16; Luke 23:35; Acts 2:36).53 In short, when his contemporaries quizzed Jesus about being “the Christ,” they wanted to know if he was the long-awaited new David or (in our terms) “the Messiah” (Mark 14:61; Luke 22:67).54

By tracing Jesus’ genealogy to David (“son of David,” Matt. 1:1), Matthew connects Jesus with the prophecies and undergirds his identification of Jesus as “Christ” and “the Christ” (Matt. 1:16–17). Those seemingly simple words stamp Jesus as the long-expected king sent by God himself to transform history. They form the context in which to hear two early confessions of Jesus—in reality, two surrenders to his kingship. The first is by Peter (“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Matt. 16:16]), the second by Nathaniel (“Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel” [John 1:49]). They still supply the words by which people of all times and places may voice their own submission to this king.

Jesus—what kind of king? Joshua 5–11 pictures the kings of Canaan as monarchs willing to go to war against Israel and Yahweh in order to preserve their political power (cf. Josh. 2:2–3). As noted above, the Amarna Letters from Egypt (fourteenth cent. B.C.) portray them as conspiratorial royal rivals of each other and somewhat abusive of their subjects. The really important question for us, however, concerns how Jesus compares to other kings familiar to us, including modern Canaanite ones. One thing, first of all, sets the reign of Jesus apart: He is a good king. Ponder a statement from Peter’s talk before the household of the Gentile, Cornelius:

You know what has happened throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached—how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, B.C.use God was with him. (Acts 10:37–38, my italics)

Empowered by the Holy Spirit and God’s presence, Peter says simply, Jesus “went around doing good.…” Several things strike me about this simple testimony. (1) “Went around” (Gk. dierxomai, lit., “went through”) seems to picture Jesus as passing through the midst of the places he visited. My mind, thus, imagines him mobbed by crowds as he enters and makes his way through each town or village. The people are thinking, “Wow, the famous Rabbi has come to our B.C.water!” It is a Jesus who mills among the locals shaking hands, giving occasional hugs, joking with the crowd, and asking about what has been going on. It is a Jesus who loves ordinary people and loves to be with them.

That picture could not more starkly contrast what I witness when today’s kingpins venture out in public: a helicopter gently lands them behind an impenetrable wall of security personnel; or a phalanx of siren-squealing, lights-flashing motorcycle police leads a caravan of black limousines with darkly-tinted, bullet-proof windows to the protective wall waiting a short drive away. Most of the eager crowd will barely catch a quick glimpse of the famous passenger. A walk to shake hands, much less josh, with onlookers is still done occasionally but thought awfully risky. The only “handlers” are aides and security agents who crowd around their celebrity through his or her every move.

(2) As he passed through the crowd, Jesus was “doing good.” Peter omits details, but, again, my imagination pictures something other than an aloof, security-conscious Jesus. I see him pausing along the way to teach the crowds, to pray for individuals in particular need, to encourage the elderly with a smile or kind word, and to listen to what is on everyone’s mind. I imagine him stopping to play with children, to kid the street merchants about giving him a good bargain, to discuss local problems with the village elders, and to wave smilingly at people on the rooftops. I picture him organizing the disciples into impromptu work groups to help repair a home, pave a street, fetch needed water, or do some heavy lifting. Definitely not the smiling, waving, aloof modern kingpin who in reality seems to be fleeing for his or her life! Instead, he models for us a down-and-dirty, feet-on-the-ground, up-close-and-personal engagement in the lives and struggles of the people around us today.

Peter singles out one “good” activity, his “healing [of] all who were under the power of the devil, B.C.use God was with him.” Rare is the kingpin today who bothers with the mentally ill, the unclean, the unkempt, the depressed, the lonely, and the grieving. But not so with Jesus. He not only bothered, but he brought God’s powerful presence wherever he went. A kingpin’s fear or loathing might avert his eyes from looking and quicken his steps to escape the danger, but not Jesus. He went right up to the demon-possessed, the deranged, and the dirty. He even—are you ready for this?—touched them! To him the demons, dirt, and derangement smacked of a cruel servitude reminiscent of Canaan’s ancient kings. His power healed them, freeing them from racking torments and restoring them to joyous health and sound minds. And Jesus is still the great healer. He can still put shattered lives B.C. together, repair brokenness, restore lost hope, sweeten bitter grief, and cast out all our inner demons. Listen to this, one of his royal decrees:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matt. 11:28–30)

What a different king is this Jesus! Canaanite-type kings ride in luxury on the bent B.C.s of weary workers, but Jesus promises refreshing “rest”—a break from B.C.-breaking labor—and only “light” and “easy” burdens. That is the kind of king that pressured people today want—a “good king” unlike any other.

Jesus is also a king who saves. This dimension of Jesus’ kingship first appears among the Bible’s most familiar texts, the birth narratives. For example, as Joseph ponders a quiet divorce from his pregnant fiancé, Mary, in a dream an angel advises him instead to marry her. The angel also commands him to give her son the name Jesus, “B.C.use he will save his people from their sin,” and he did so (Matt. 1:21, 25). The angel puns on the name, Jesus (Gk. Iesous), the LXX word for “Joshua” (Heb. yešuʿa, probably “Yahweh is help”).55 The wordplay connects him with the promised “help” (i.e., salvation) from sin. Similarly, the angel announces to the shepherds the birth in Bethlehem of “a Savior”—“Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). These texts echo the Old Testament idea of salvation as rescue out of danger.

Later, in his home at Jericho, the once-corrupt tax collector Zacchaeus responds to Jesus’ surprising visit by repenting of his shady past. He promises to contribute half his net worth to the poor and to repay his victims four times the amount he cheated them—apparently, obeying the law of theft (Ex. 22:1). Jesus then announces, “Today salvation has come to this house”—“salvation” in the sense of divine help that transforms one’s way of life so that he escapes punishment. It all results, Jesus adds, from the fact that Jesus’ mission is to “seek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:8–10). As Evans says, “Jesus calls all to repentance, religious and irreligious, healthy and sick, rich and poor.”56

Our Palm Sunday celebrations also remember that Jesus is a king who saves. As is well known, in Matthew’s view Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem amid the approving, palm-waving throng fulfills Zechariah 9:9. The latter foretells the coming of a future, gentle king (the Messiah) who enters the city on a donkey as had Solomon at his accession (1 Kings 1:38, 44). The donkey is not a war horse and, hence, signals that the king is on a goodwill mission.57 The people’s spreading of cloaks and branches on the roadway probably also marks the moment as a festive one like the Feast of Tabernacles (cf. 2 Kings 9:13).

For our purposes, however, the item to highlight is the series of cries that sweep the crowd as the royal procession escorting Jesus inside proceeds. They shout: “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Blessed is the King of Israel!” (John 12:13). “Hosanna” is the Greek transliteration of the Aramaic form of hošiʿa naʾ, from Psalm 118:25, the traditional cry to Yahweh for help discussed in the previous section. By invoking that formula, the throng unwittingly welcomes the long-awaited new David with the shout that once greeted the old Davidic kings.58 They also unknowingly recognize him as Savior, the one whose royal procession will end with him hanging on a cross bearing the ironic sign, “King of the Jews.” He is, indeed, a king—but one who saves by giving his own life. And he still saves people today.

Above I pointed out that “to save” in the Old Testament has two senses, “to rescue” out of trouble and “to help” in the midst of it.59 As Savior, Jesus rescues us from all kinds of things. I know this from long years of personal experience, as do (I presume) many readers. His forgiveness unshackles the chains of sin that bind me, freeing me from my slavery to it. His power bails me out of the messes which I sometimes create for myself. His grace gently lifts me up when I fall so he and I can go on together. His patience also warmly embraces me when I fail him, and his smile dispels the dark clouds of discouragement and shame that often envelop me. His soothing presence shepherds me through the dark valleys of despair through which I sometimes must pass.

As Savior, Jesus also helps all of us persevere and survive amidst the troubles so common in daily life. He wisely helps us endure difficult job situations from which we find escape impossible. He firmly sustains us through trying circumstances that might otherwise overwhelm us. He lovingly lifts our spirits through moments when we get down on ourselves. He patiently reminds us that we belong to him when doubts or uncertainties weaken our faith. In short, Jesus is a Savior sufficient for our needs.

The highly-regarded movie Amazing Grace portrays the life of William Wilberforce, a member of the British Parliament whose dogged, determined efforts in the early nineteenth century ended slavery in the British empire. John Newton, the spiritual mentor from whom Wilberforce often sought guidance, also figures prominently in the film. (Its title derives from the title of the still popular hymn written by Newton). Newton was the leading evangelical Anglican clergyman at the time, a man who had himself once commanded British slave ships.

In his biography of Newton, John Pollock recounts the events surrounding Newton’s last days. Long known as a powerful preacher, at age eighty-two Newton insisted on trying to deliver one more sermon. But his feeble mind failed him, he lost his train of thought, and had to be led bewildered and confused down from the pulpit. Eventually, as he lay dying a few days before Christmas in 1807, he joked that he was all packed and waiting for the stagecoach to arrive. Then, his life ebbing away and heaven B.C.oning, he tried to say something. His friend William Jay leaned across the bed to catch Newton’s last words. Almost inaudibly he whispered, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner,” and, pausing to catch his breath, he managed to gasp: “and that Christ is a great Savior!”60

The quality of King Jesus leads me to respond in grateful surrender to that “great Savior.” The joy is so great, the wonder so vast, that the words fail fully to voice my experience of that king. But the theme of the song “Lord Reign in Me” by Brenton Brown does express my longing for his lordship—that he both rein me in and reign in me.

Finally, the final destiny of King Jesus is as victor over all other kings. The angry mob that dragged Jason and several other early Christians before the city officials in Thessalonica were right: Besides (indeed, in defiance of) Caesar, “there is another king, one called Jesus” (Acts 17:7). The cross and empty tomb signal his reality-transforming power that triumphs over sin, death, and the invisible powers currently at war with God (see Col. 2:15). Those triumphs pave the way for the spread of the gospel, the extension of his loving rule to people worldwide who accept his salvation and commit to his lordship.

Every day, my newspaper chronicles the chaos of today’s world: political uncertainty, the breakneck speed of change, wars between nations, economic competition between established and emerging nations, tyranny and oppression over the poor. As Joshua 12 remembers the final victory of Joshua and Israel over Canaan’s kings, so John’s vision of the end anticipates Jesus’ final victory over earth’s anti-God nations and economic interests at the second coming. Their demise brings long-waited relief to oppressed believers (Rev. 17–19).

In the vision, John sees “the [coming] punishment of the great prostitute” or Babylon. She is a stunning woman robed in the rich colors and glittering jewels of royalty—but also grotesquely drunk on the blood of Christian martyrs (Rev. 17:1, 4, 5). The “kings of the earth” have been her steady customers, the heady wine that her adulteries provide intoxicates the whole earth (v. 2), and its merchants B.C.me filthy rich by supplying her extravagant luxuries (18:3; cf. vv. 11–13). The woman’s title is Babylon, “the great city that rules over the kings of the earth” (vv. 5, 18), ruled by “the beast.” John’s audience would read the prostitute as Rome and its global empire, but she also symbolizes “the ‘global village’ of godless power, which determines daily life for every person at any time in human history.”61 In order that the new Jerusalem may replace Babylon (21:2), “the Lamb” and his followers will decisively defeat Babylon, the beast, and their royal allies. The defeat is certain precisely B.C.use the Lamb is “the Lord of lords and King of kings” (17:14).

Suddenly, an angel announces Babylon’s coming fate: “Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great” (18:2; cf. 14:8; Am. 5:2). She is justly going to receive B.C. what she cruelly dished out to the world—a fiery end from God’s hand for all her killing (18:6, 8). The angel warns Christians to leave the city immediately, lest her sins stain them and they share her doom (Rev. 18:4; cf. Gen. 18–19). The warning follows up one of the book’s central themes, the call for Christians to resist strong social pressures bent on the corruption of their faith (Rev. 2:10, 13; 3:21; 14:12). The announcement of Babylon’s fate plunges into mourning her royal allies, her suppliers of luxury, and the merchant fleet that delivered the goods (18:9–19).

But the angel calls for “saints and apostles and prophets” to rejoice B.C.use “God has judged her for the way she treated you” (Rev. 18:20). Suddenly, John hears the reaction in heaven to Babylon’s fall, a huge throng shouting, “Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God” (19:1). From the heavenly throne a voice calls, “Praise our God, all you his servants, you who fear him, both small and great!” (19:5). The heavenly multitude obeys with a thunderous shout: “For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready” (19:6–7).

But another event intervenes before the wedding supper, the second coming of Christ, which John displays in three short visions (19:11–16, 17–18, 19–21).62 Only the first one will concern us here. In it John sees a white horse in heaven, a symbol of victory, with a rider called Faithful and True (19:11a). He leads heaven’s armies, also arrayed in white and riding white horses (v. 14). In pursuing justice and war, his fiery, blazing eyes can penetrate human pretensions and facades truly to discern guilt from innocence (vv. 11b–12). His name is “the Word of God,” a reference to his incarnation as Messiah (v. 13; cf. John 1), and he defeats the nations with an unconventional sword. It comes out of his mouth, probably a reference to the proclamation of the gospel message about Christ’s faithfulness to God. That proclamation exposes the contrary claims of the anti-Christian kingdom and its rulers for what they are—lies and deceptions. It also confirms that God’s condemnation of nations that operate similarly is just (cf. Heb. 4:11–12).

Strikingly, unlike Joshua 2–11, no battles and bloodshed take place (but see Rev. 19:21). Instead, the focus falls on God’s judgment of evil and the display of the rider’s royal rule as “King of kings and Lord of lords” (vv. 15–16). The overthrow of royal Canaanite hegemony introduced a completely new order in Canaan (Josh. 1–11). What Wall calls “the future apocalyptic eruption of God’s salvation within human history” through the return of Jesus will likewise shove phony kings and their elites aside, end their cruelty toward common people, establish God’s kingdom on earth, and vindicate the messianic work of Jesus Christ.63 God’s final triumph radically alters human existence, both its social and spiritual dimensions, and brings it into alignment with the good wishes that the creator intends for it.64

These events are the source of hope for all who struggle to remain faithful to Jesus and of personal vindication for all who have suffered injustice. It resoundingly answers the anguished prayers of Christians who have rotted in stinking prisons for their faith in Jesus. It satisfies the longing of anyone socially slighted or subtly demeaned for their ethnicity, gender, physical limitations, or religious faith. It holds out pleasant reward for the faithful, patient endurance of anyone whose commitment to Jesus has been ridiculed. It finally brings justice to every innocent slave secretly hung beside some lonely American road. It firmly avenges the deaths of helpless would-be immigrants who died at the hands of unscrupulous smugglers. It holds out hope to those engaged in the cause of social justice of a future final justice to rid the world of its evils. Indeed, it lifts the spirits of all who worship and serve Jesus as King of kings and Lord of lords.

From all corners of the globe, all who anxiously await this grand day of final salvation joyously add their voice to that of the heavenly chorus: “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory!” (Rev. 19:6–7). With Tertullian, their spirits soar on the wings of the conviction that “Christ’s name is extending everywhere, believed everywhere, worshiped by all the … nations, reigning everywhere, adored everywhere, conferred equally everywhere upon all.”65

In the spirit and form of Joshua 12, the reading below puts the hope of King Jesus’ final triumph into words for today. The format makes it suitable as a reading for public worship.

In Celebration of the King of Kings: A Reading

Leader:	The final conquest of evil human rulers awaits the return of our Lord Jesus. Today we celebrate that coming great day of victory by our Savior in a way that Joshua 12 celebrated that of an earlier “savior.” We do so to embrace Jesus as our triumphant King of kings and Lord of lords. Let me inquire … How many pharaohs remain who cruelly enslave God’s people?
Women:	None.
Leader:	How many Caesars who martyr the Christian faithful?
Men:	None.
Leader:	How many tyrants who beat, maim, and imprison believers?
All:	None.
Leader:	How many mayors who cater to the rich and ignore the poor?
Men:	None.
Leader:	How many scoundrels who defraud the weak, vulnerable, and elderly?
Women:	None.
Leader:	How many kings, presidents, tsars, and premiers remain besides Jesus?
All:	None.
Leader:	How many kings other than Jesus rule in our hearts and lives?
All:	None.
Leader:	John wrote in his vision, “Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: ‘Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns.” [PAUSE]
	How many kings will we serve?
All:	One! [PAUSE]
	Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. (1 Tim. 1:17)