Joshua 23:1–16

Original Meaning

Remembrance and Exhortation, Part 1 (23:1–8)

THE NARRATIVE OPENING LOCATES what follows in time—a “long time” (lit., “many days”) after Yahweh had given Israel “rest” from their enemies. The reference is to the memorable, watershed moment when hostilities in Canaan ended and peaceful settlement began (cf. 21:44; 22:4). The twofold formula that follows underscores that Joshua is not just “old” but “very old” (cf. v. 14; Gen 24:1; 1 Kings 1:1). It echoes 13:1, where both the narrator and Yahweh also invoke it, so the context implies that Joshua is now even older than when the long land distribution process began.6

The very fact that Joshua gives a farewell speech signals his awareness of the creeping sunset of mortality steadily falling over him.7 Nightfall will soon usher Israel into a new context, an era without Joshua or any designated successor. The opening reminder of Joshua’s advancing age casts a dark shadow over the scene and makes his speech all the more urgent.

Driven by the urgency of age, Joshua summons all Israel, including its major officials (cf. the same list in 24:1b; cf. 8:33), to hear his farewell address (v. 2a). The inclusion of a full roster of the leaders clarifies that the address applies to everyone in Israel, both leaders and people. Inexplicably, the narrative cites no location for the gathering, although Shiloh seems likely (18:1, 8; 19:51; 21:2; 22:9; cf. 24:1 [Shechem]).8

We should imagine a dramatic scene. All of Israel’s key leaders sit up front facing Joshua, thousands of Israelites behind them.9 Everyone has arrived from all over Canaan to hear the very man who allotted each of them their inheritances. A hush falls across the crowd as Joshua, white-haired, slightly stooped, and assisted by an aide, ascends a temporary platform or large stone to be seen and heard. All eyes are on him, all ears ready to hear what the grand old man, the one to whom they owe so much, has to say.

He begins with the obvious—his age (v. 2b)—invoking the two-part formula with which the narrator began (v. 1b; cf. 1 Sam. 12:2). The words immediately explain the reason for the assembly, evoke memories of his long career, and draw the crowd together to hear him as if for the last time. But Joshua quickly turns to remembrance (vv. 2–5), shifting the focus from himself to the audience and what (lit.) “you yourselves [emphatic pronoun] have seen [raʾah]” (v. 3; cf. Deut. 29:2[1]). They have personally witnessed “all that Yahweh did” on their behalf to “these nations” by fighting for Israel.10

“These nations” may refer to the enemies Yahweh defeated east and west of the Jordan or only to those in Canaan (more likely). “Fought for you” echoes the theme of Yahweh war in which Yahweh decisively defeated his (and Israel’s) enemies (10:14, 25, 42; cf. Ex. 14:14, 25; Deut. 3:22). The promise of victory marks one of the promises that Yahweh fulfilled (“did”) during the Conquest (Deut. 1:30; 20:4).

“See, here!” (raʾah; NIV “Remember”) puns on the earlier word “seen” and shifts attention to what Joshua did—his inclusion of the land of “the nations that remain” within their tribal inheritances (v. 4a; cf. vv. 3, 7, 9, 12, 13).11 They still reside within Canaan (Josh. 15:63; 16:10; 17:12–13, 18; 19:47), but their land has been assigned among the tribes. Verse 4b is grammatically awkward, but “the nations I conquered” probably refers to peoples defeated (lit., “cut off”) under Joshua’s leadership (so NLT, NRSV, TNK; against NIV).12 They live between the Jordan and the Mediterranean. As for their future fate, Joshua affirms that Yahweh will drive out and destroy them (v. 5), at that time finally fulfilling his promises (Deut. 6:19; 9:3–5).13 Playing two senses of the same root, Joshua avers that their destruction (yaraš hi.) will enable Israel to “possess” (yaraš hi.) their abandoned property just as he promised (Deut. 31:3).14

Meanwhile, their continuing presence poses a serious threat to Israel that drives Joshua to his first exhortation, especially given his imminent death (vv. 6–8). He resorts to what Nelson calls a “democratization of obedience.”15 Joshua redirects to the people as a whole commands that Yahweh originally addressed only to himself in 1:6–9 (v. 6). Joshua commands them, “Be very strong!” as had Moses before his death (Deut. 31:23) and Yahweh at Joshua’s commissioning (Josh. 1:6, 7, 9; cf. v. 18; Deut. 31:6, 7).16

Up to now, Joshua’s calm, steely resolve has kept Israel close to Yahweh, but his death will leave the nation to maintain that closeness on its own. They will need to muster Joshua-like strong, unwavering devotion to stick with Yahweh. Like Joshua, on their own they must also “be careful to obey”—to “be constantly on their guard, be vigilant” (šamar qal)—to continue to do what Yahweh commands (1:7; cf. 22:5). Their guidebook will be what Joshua followed, “the Book of the Law of Moses” (cf. 1:7–8; for the exact same phrase, see 8:31; 2 Kings 14:6; Neh. 8:1). Like Joshua, they are not to “turn aside [from the Law] to the right or to the left” (23:6; cf. 1:7; Deut. 17:20; 28:14). In short, they are not to stray in any direction from the path of blessing that Yahweh has laid out for them.

Specifically, Joshua cites things to avoid: to associate or intermingle with (lit., “come with”) the remaining nations and to take an oath on the name of their gods or swear by them (v. 7).17 The former probably refers to day-to-day contacts that might tempt the Israelites to become like the Canaanites just to get along and, thus, to lose their unique identity.18 The latter specifies one common, ordinary transaction, the agreements two parties seal with an oath. To “take an oath” with a non-Israelite could require the Israelite party to speak the name of a god other than Yahweh aloud in public, tacitly accepting its power and authority. From that tacit recognition, it then becomes a small step to “worship” (NIV “serve”) other gods and “bow down” prostate before their images, a violation of the third commandment (Ex. 20:5; Deut. 5:9).19 To lie face down—to be completely prostrate on the ground—dramatically acts out a symbolic total surrender to and trust in the other god(s) rather than in Yahweh alone.

Instead, Joshua invokes two emphatic words (ki ʾim) to exhort Israel to do the opposite of what verse 7 prohibits. They are to stay the course pursued until now—“to hold fast” (dabaq) to Yahweh alone (v. 8; cf. v. 12; 22:5), a command that echoes Deuteronomy (Deut. 10:20; 11:22; 13:5; 30:20; cf. 2 Kings 18:6; Ps. 63:8[9]). Elsewhere, dabaq (“to cling”) describes the tight clinging of a couple in sexual relations (Gen. 2:24) and Ruth’s firm, loyal embrace of Naomi (Ruth 1:14).20 To cling firmly to Yahweh is to embrace him so tightly—to observe such exclusive loyalty to him—as to leave not even the smallest crack for other gods between the two of you. In short, to avoid association with non-Israelites means not to take the first step toward loosening Israel’s embrace of Yahweh.21

Remembrance and Exhortation, Part 2 (23:9–13)

Bridging Contexts

CLEARLY, JOSHUA WARNS HIS audience against both simple associations and intermarriage because of their adverse influence on Israelites. Brief expansion on the comments made earlier will help flesh out the picture and anticipate part of the Contemporary Significance of Joshua 23.

Problems the Canaanites pose. Why is Joshua so concerned about the Canaanites? Modern readers might be tempted to adopt a live-and-let-live stance toward them. One must remember that, unlike Israel, the Canaanites worshiped a pantheon of gods.36 The head of the pantheon was the elderly patriarch El, the “father of humanity” and “creator of the earth,” whose consort was Athirat, “creatress of the gods” and mother of Baal. The seventy gods that comprise the heavenly council are all called “sons” of El.

Canaanite religion also featured two other goddesses, Ashtarte, consort of the sea god, Yam, and ʿAnat, a childless young maiden, sister of Baal and patroness of kings. At Ugarit and in the Bible, the most prominent Canaanite god was the storm god, Baal, who shows a variety of forms tied to local places (e.g., Baal Peor, Baal Zaphon, Baal Shamen, etc.). The kingship of Baal is the main subject of the Baal Cycle from Ugarit (fourteenth cent. B.C.).37 This, then, is the general religious landscape in which Israel settled in Canaan.

How would it adversely influence Israel in their day-to-day associations with Canaanites? Granted, what follows is somewhat speculative, but brief biblical glimpses of ancient daily life further flesh out the several situations of influence suggested above. Consider, for example, the common occasions on which one invokes the name of a god. When Boaz arrived at his harvest field near Bethlehem, he greeted the workers with “The LORD be with you!” to which they responded, “The LORD bless you!” (Ruth 2:4). So, what god (or gods) would be invoked when a Canaanite greeted or said goodbye to an Israelite (or vice versa) somewhere in Canaan? Would each invoke his own god(s), or would they strike some compromise? The same situation would arise should they wish to seal a business transaction with an oath, since parties typically called on deities to enforce oaths.

Now the problem with such ordinary greetings, goodbyes, and oaths is that if the Canaanite invoked his god(s), the occasion would require religious accommodation of the Israelite. To accept a Canaanite’s invocation of his god(s) would implicitly recognize their existence and authority and deny Yahweh’s exclusive claim to sovereignty. This would be true even if the Israelite invoked only Yahweh’s name in his participation. But the temptation to be courteous toward a Canaanite neighbor by also invoking god(s) other than Yahweh presented itself, and the Israelite had only a few seconds to decide. And once he did so, he had set a precedent that now bound him to do it again.

The presence of Canaanite worship sites near the Israelites also would pose a threat to their religious integrity. This would be particularly true in towns where no Levite was present to teach and encourage faithfulness. According to the Old Testament, Canaanite worship included fertility rites involving sexual relations between a worshiper and a cult prostitute (Deut. 23:17–18; Hos. 4:12–14).38 The theory was that intercourse symbolically encouraged the god(s) to inseminate the land with abundant fertility. Thus, Canaanite worship may have had two attractions for Israelites. (1) As a fertility religion with the storm god Baal at its center, it would have immediate relevance to Israelites since they were farmers. Probably, the temptation would be to worship both Yahweh and Baal—to avail oneself of the strengths of each, so to speak. (2) The very sensuality of Canaanite fertility rituals also probably attracted Israelites. The twin appeals to relevance and to sexual pleasure tempted them to participate even if they never formally renounced loyalty to Yahweh.

The implications of intermarriage for Israel’s exclusive relationship with Yahweh were even worse. Consider the incident involving Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, and the Hivites at Shechem (Gen. 34).39 It illustrates the potential tensions and maneuvering that might dog attempts at intermarriage with Canaanites. One day, Dinah went “to visit the women of the land”—a simple but unwise social association—but she was raped en route by Shechem, son of the local ruler (34:1–2). That he could do so with impunity hints at the marginal social status and vulnerability of the Israelites at the time. But Shechem actually loved Dinah, sought to woo her (v. 3), and asked his father Hamor to arrange their marriage (v. 4).

Meanwhile, the rape enraged Dinah’s brothers, who called it “a disgraceful thing … that should not be done” (v. 7; cf. Josh. 7:15; Gen. 29:26; 2 Sam. 13:12). Unaware of their outrage, Hamor proposed not only a Shechem-Dinah marriage but intermarriage more broadly between Hivites and Israelites as a new general practice (Gen. 34:8–9). In essence, the Hivites and Israelites would become “one people” (vv. 16, 22). For Jacob’s entourage that would mark a significant move from the margins of society to its center, while for the Hivites an expansion in clan size would enhance its regional power and prestige. The Hivites welcomed the Israelites to settle down permanently and acquire property. They granted them permission freely to trade anywhere (v. 10).

Now, notice the three-directional double-dealing going on here. The Israelites insisted that the Hivites receive circumcision before Shechem could marry Dinah. It was a trick, in that it would allow several of Jacob’s sons to slaughter the Hivite males, all defenseless while recovering from the painful procedure. To win approval from the city fathers of the “one people” plan, Hamor hid the role his son’s sexual misconduct played in the deal (v. 21) and played up its financial benefits (v. 23).40 Likewise, he hid from Jacob and his family its true motive, a Hivite takeover of Israel’s sizeable livestock holdings.

Several implications flow from this narrative. (1) Israelite-Canaanite relations were complex matters driven by competing interests and mistrust. This was particularly true when one or the other party felt itself at a disadvantage. (2) The two parties did not necessarily share the same ethical values. Apparently, Hamor did not find his son’s conduct objectionable, especially since he saw a way to work it to his financial and political advantage. Dinah’s brothers, however, read the rape as an outrageous violation of their clan’s ethic. In short, Hivites and Israelites operated by different ethical standards; what Hivites considered acceptable the Israelites considered shameful. (3) Attempts to live in harmony with Canaanites might strain relations within Israel—such as between a slow-reacting father and his hot-headed sons.

But suppose Dinah had married Shechem? What consequences would have followed for Israel’s identity? Given ancient sociology, Dinah would have left the sanctuary of her father’s household and fallen under the authority of her Canaanite husband and father-in-law. She would have become financially dependent on them, and they would have had veto power over her choices, including her choice of god(s). More important, Jacob and his family would have compromised their unique sense of divine destiny. Their marginal status portrays them as comparatively small in number compared to the Hivites. If so, through intermarriage they likely would have been absorbed as just another clan within the tribal structure of the Hivites. They might have maintained some of their own laws and ethical standards, but they would also have been obligated to follow the laws, ethics, and religious practices of the “one people.”

In this regard, the example of Ruth’s integration into Israel may shed some additional, helpful light. In declaring her loyalty to Naomi, Ruth renounced her ties to her Moabite family and god and embraced Naomi’s people and God (Ruth 1:16–17; cf. 2:11). How typical such declarations were is difficult to say. But it seems reasonable to assume that the merging of clans would certainly require all parties to affirm some level of loyalty to the larger people about to form. It also seems reasonable that some affirmation of loyalty to god(s) would also figure in the transaction. Since polytheism dominated the ancient world, the common tendency probably was for uniting clans to incorporate each other’s god(s) in their worship life.

All this would, of course, realize the worst fears voiced by Joshua’s passionate speech. Both religiously and sociologically, Israel would cease to belong to Yahweh alone as his unique people. The realization of the ancient patriarchal promise would be in doubt, to be saved only by divine intervention. In short, at stake in Joshua’s speech is nothing less than the survival of Israel’s reason for existence—their unique identity defined by the covenant with Yahweh.

The farewell speech genre. Finally, a word concerning the genre of “farewell speech” is in order. Farewell speeches play a prominent role in the Old Testament, as the number of examples attests.41 Most concern addresses given to Israel assembled together. Moses, for example, gives two passionate farewell speeches to Israel on the plains of Moab shortly before his death (Deut. 31–33). They include a lengthy song (ch. 32), a final blessing of the tribes (ch. 33), and personal remarks to him by Yahweh (31:14–21; 32:48–52). It is apparent that Israel’s rebellious spirit and inclination toward idolatry trouble both Yahweh and Moses.

One also usually reckons 1 Samuel 12 as Samuel’s farewell speech to assembled Israel, although he continues his prophetic ministry (1 Sam. 13; 15; 16; 19:18–22; 25:1). On his mind is concern for Israel’s continuing commitment to Yahweh under their newly appointed king, Saul. But the audience for David’s farewell address, also given shortly before his passing, is only his son, Solomon (1 Kings 2:1–10). It concludes with an intriguing section in which David reviews with his royal successor the scores to be settled and kindnesses to be shown, all according to Solomon’s wise discretion (vv. 5–9).

Scholars have also identified several farewell speeches in the New Testament.42 According to Kurz and others, Luke’s report of the Last Supper meal comprises one example and reflects the influence of the Old Testament models noted above (Luke 22:14–38).43 Among its purposes are: to instruct early Christians on the Eucharist and on authority in the church, and to present the transfer of authority over his followers from Jesus himself to the twelve disciples.

John 13–17 also offers a farewell speech that aims to prepare the disciples for Jesus’ imminent departure and their life as a community after it.44 A central theme is love—Jesus’ love for his father and his disciples, and his mandate that the disciples love each other. Its climax is Jesus’ wonderful high-priestly prayer that his Father will especially care for his disciples after he has left them to return to heaven.

Finally, in Acts Luke incorporates his report of Paul’s farewell speech to the elders of the church in Ephesus who have joined him at Miletus (Acts 20:17–38).45 Paul is headed to Jerusalem and an uncertain fate and acknowledges the sad reality that they will never see him again (v. 25). He charges them to protect themselves and their flock from wolves—leaders within the community who will distort the truth and lead believers astray (vv. 28–31).

Ultimately, the biblical roots of farewell speeches go back to Israel’s wisdom tradition.46 It is typical for an authority figure to instruct his pupils (his “sons”) on the basics of how to avoid disasters and to achieve a happy life (e.g., Prov. 1–7). But farewell speeches are not set in the classroom of wisdom instruction nor are their speakers wisdom teachers. The different settings and different speakers have shaped in them certain common motifs.47 (1) The speakers are all leaders responsible for God’s people: the lawgiver Moses, his successor Joshua, the priest-prophet Samuel, King David, Jesus the Messiah, and Paul the apostle.

(2) The approaching end of the speaker’s life occasions the speech. The speakers themselves voice awareness of their old age (Deut. 31:2; Josh. 23:2; 1 Sam 12:2) or impending death (Josh. 23:14; 1 Kings 2:2; Luke 22:15–16, 18; John 13:33; 16:19–23; 17:11, 13; cf. 13:1, 3; Acts 20:25, 38).

(3) The speeches share the common purpose of preparing God’s people for the transition to a new era without their being present. So, for example, Moses’ preoccupation is that, in crossing the Jordan without him, Israel remain “strong and courageous” in the face of Canaanite opposition (Deut. 31:1–6). Joshua worries about intermarriage and its resultant apostasy once the Israelites settle in Canaan (Josh. 23:12, 16), while rebellion against Yahweh’s law during the monarchy trouble Samuel and David (1 Sam. 12:14–15; 1 Kings 2:3–4).48

At the Last Supper, Jesus decrees a model of servant leadership in the kingdom over which the disciples are soon to preside and prepares Peter to survive his impending denial of Christ (Luke 22:25–27, 31–34; John 13:1–17).49 In the Johannine account, Jesus recalls the figure of Moses, invokes the latter’s “love” language, and applies it to the new era about to dawn. As Moses called Israel to “love the LORD your God” by obeying his commands, Jesus commands his disciples to “love” him through obedience, too (John 14:15; 15:9–10). More important, he issues a new commandment for the new kingdom: Besides loving the Father and the Son, the disciples are to “love each other” (John 13:34, 35; 15:12, 17). Finally, Paul prepares the elders of Ephesus for his absence by citing his example of faithful hard work amid great hardships (Acts 20:19, 31, 35). In short, each speech sought to enable its hearers to enter the new era well-prepared for its challenges.

(4) The speeches serve to legitimize the addressee(s) as the speaker’s chosen successor.50 This is obviously true of the relationships between Moses and Joshua (Deut. 31:7–8), David and Solomon (1 Kings 2:2–4), Jesus and the disciples (Luke 22; John 13–17), and possibly of Paul and the Ephesian elders (Acts 20). In 1 Samuel 12, the successor seems to be all Israel and its king, but what about in Joshua 23? In my view, the book of Joshua implies that the Instruction of Moses (and perhaps its dispersed Levite teachers) is Joshua’s successor (23:6; cf. 1:7–8; 8:31–32; ch. 21; 22:5). That may explain why Joshua applies the personal charge Yahweh gave him (“Be strong!” [1:6, 7, 9; cf. v. 18) to the people as a whole (23:6, 11) just as he had to his military leaders (10:25).51 The people are expected to follow Moses’ teachings as if he and Joshua were still present to hold them accountable. By implication, the intended audience of the legitimization is not the successor-designate (e.g., Joshua, Solomon, the Twelve), but his followers (i.e., Israel and Christian believers). It passes on the authority of the predecessor and implicitly asks the Israelites and Christians to recognize and obey it.

(5) Finally, the speeches typically recall past history to support exhortations for the present and future.52 So, Moses recalls the defeat of the Amorite kings, Sihon and Og, so Israel will remain “strong and courageous” (Deut. 31:4, 6). He also reviews “the days of old” to warn them to avoid the disasters that befell their ancestors for their idolatry (32:7–42). Samuel goes over the history from Jacob to the judges to exhort Israel not to abandon Yahweh, now that they have a king (1 Sam. 12:8–15). David reminds Solomon of what Joab, Barzillai of Gilead, and Shimei the Benjaminite did in the past to guide his treatment of them in the future (1 Kings 2:5–9). Similarly, both Jesus and Paul base their urgings on their own ministry history with the disciples and early churches, respectively (John 13:31–16:33; Acts 20:18–22, 34–35). Likewise, Joshua here asks the Israelites to recall their own memories of Yahweh’s victories (Josh. 23:3, 9) as examples of what he will do to them for their apostasy (vv. 15–16).

In short, the past, both Israelite and Christian, offers the audience both reassurance of divine favor and warning of divine wrath as they move into the future. Acceptance of the message of the farewell speech will earn them the former, rejection of it the latter.

The genre of farewell speech implies two important things. (1) It assumes that older people have crucial things to teach younger ones. Few readers would object to that assumption initially, although some perceive their teaching as “quaint” rather than “with it.” But Joshua 23 presumes that life is like a road on which one enters at birth and travels until death. However long or short the journey, every stage is a whole new experience because one travels this road only once and only in one direction—forward. The inexorable advance of aging ensures that. A young traveler can only imagine what the road is like at age forty or seventy because he or she has never traveled that part of it before. The only way to learn about what the road ahead is like is to listen to travelers who have passed there.

Thus, what Joshua 23 gives is the wisdom of someone who knows the road ahead—its rough spots and unexpected turns, its demands and dangers, its pains and pleasures not to be missed. Joshua speaks to the ignorant on how fully to enjoy the trip ahead, a message only the seasoned life traveler can give. That is why only old people give farewell speeches; only they know the road ahead. And that is why we should always listen to them.

(2) The genre of farewell speech reminds readers that God’s plan outlives all of us. It was in full swing long before we were born and will remain so long after we are gone. It outlived Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Deborah, David, Elijah, Ezra, Esther, Mary, Peter, Paul, John, Irenaeus, Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, Jonathan Edwards, D. L. Moody, Mary Slessor, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King Jr. This blunt reality is both humbling and liberating. It humbles by reminding us that, however large a swath we cut through history, the kingdom advances without us—and, at times, in spite of us. It liberates us by reminding us that ultimately its success does not depend on our efforts—that we do not have to get everything done in our lifetime. Rather, we sow seeds whose harvest others will gather, lay foundations on which others will build, and open doors that others will enter. We are among the cast of players in the drama of history, but the entire company is huge. And, of course, the starring roles ultimately belong to God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Contemporary Significance

CELEBRATING GOD’S AMAZING FEATS. From the pages of Scripture, Joshua’s ancient farewell speech echoes across the ages. It still deserves a hearing because its themes are timeless and enduring. Heard properly, it speaks with the same power and relevance it had the day it was first delivered. It calls us to celebrate what God has done in the past with joy and gratitude. This is true for the church as a whole and for each believer personally. Though not present in Joshua 23, the wonderful Hebrew word niplaʾot (“amazing feats”) captures the things that Israel “had seen” Yahweh do (v. 3; cf. 3:5). Niplaʾot mark events so astounding that they defy human explanation and description even by those who see them (e.g., Job 5:9; 37:14; Ps. 98:1; 106:22; 136:4; Mic. 7:15).53 What great deeds has God done for his people in the past? The list of landmarks is lengthy—how much time do you have?

Psalm 136 offers a convenient catalog and provides the appropriate congregational response to each item (“His love endures forever”). The psalmist begins in the beginning with the “amazing feat” of creation. Yahweh wielded his awesome understanding to “[make] the heavens” and “spread the earth upon the waters” (vv. 5–6). Other psalms celebrate how he set the earth on its sturdy, firm foundations, then sent the waters retreating behind the boundaries of lakes and riverbeds never to overflow the earth again (Ps. 104:5–9). Today we reap the benefits of the stable, immovable earth (“it can never be moved”) that God established in the past. And that stability reminds us that God is still the same powerful God today, a God always ready for relationship with his people, whatever historical era their lives occupy (cf. Ps. 102:25–28).

Next, echoing Genesis 1, Psalm 136 recalls God’s creation of “the great lights”—“the sun to govern the day” and “the moon and stars to govern the night” (Ps. 136:7–9). The regularity of their rotation reminds us that the earth is governed 24/7—that it knows no moments of chaos outside their dominion. Given the “amazing feat” of creation, it is no wonder that Psalm 148 rallies a creation chorus of singers from heaven and earth to praise the Lord. From heaven the psalmist recruits angels, stars, sun, moon, and deep space; and from earth he summons sea creatures, ocean depths, lightning, hail, snow, storm winds, mountains, fruit and cedar trees, all kinds of livestock, creepy crawlers, birds, human kings and princes, young and old, males and females (vv. 1–12). To their chorus we each add our voice in celebration of God’s “amazing feats” of creation, in the words of Robert Robinson:

Mighty God, while angels bless Thee,

May a mortal lisp Thy name?

Lord of men, as well as angels,

Thou art ev’ry creature’s theme.

Lord of ev’ry land and nation,

Ancient of eternal days,

Sounded thro’ the wide creation

Be Thy just and endless praise.

The Exodus from Egypt is the next item in the catalog of Yahweh’s mighty deeds in Psalm 136. The psalmist recalls what Yahweh did in this great act of salvation (vv. 10–15): He struck down the Egyptian firstborn, led Israel out by his overwhelming power, parted the Red Sea, led Israel across it, and swept Pharaoh and his army into it. As Moses told Israel, Yahweh did so because “the LORD loved you and kept his oath to your ancestors” (Deut. 7:8). Israel was, after all, the people whom Yahweh had singled out from all peoples “to be his people, his treasured possession”; only Israel was the object of his “affection” (7:6–7). To Psalm 136 Moses adds his own voice, exulting in the implications of the exodus from Egypt for Israel:

Blessed are you, O Israel!

Who is like you,

a people saved by the LORD?

He is your shield and helper

and your glorious sword.

Your enemies will cower before you,

and you will trample down their high places. (Deut. 33:29)

Remembering the wilderness journey, the conquest, and the settlement comes next in Psalm 136: Yahweh led Israel through the desert (136:16) and struck down great and mighty kings (vv. 17–18)—Sihon and Og, for example (vv. 17–20)—and gave their land to Israel as an inheritance (vv. 21–23). As we have seen, the book of Joshua knows this story well and celebrates it as an “amazing feat,” too. Its events demonstrate what is humanly unfathomable: the awesome power, deep affection, firm commitment that God has toward his special people. They confirm his unwavering commitment to their salvation, defense, and well-being.

Christians also celebrate “amazing feats” of God done through Christ. Concerning the gospel, for both Paul and Luke what was “of first importance” was that Jesus died for our sins, was buried, was raised from the dead, and appeared alive to his disciples (Acts 1:3; 1 Cor. 15:3–9). The amazing thing is that the riches-to-rags story of Christ’s incarnation and self-sacrifice makes possible the rags-to-riches story of every believer. He left the wealth of heaven for the poverty of earth so that spiritually we might leave our poverty on earth for the wealth of heaven (2 Cor. 8:9). The salvation Jesus won on the cross lifts us from our degraded state as paupers to our exalted state as heirs to heaven’s riches as God’s own adopted children (Eph. 1:5).

The resurrection also marks an amazing feat of God with crucial implications for Christians. By raising Jesus, God confirms his acceptance of Jesus’ sacrifice as payment in full for all our sins. As someone has said, in the resurrection of Jesus, God shouts “Amen!” to Jesus’ cry on the cross, “It is finished!” Christians also celebrate the resurrection because it opens the way for them to enjoy their own resurrected life after death. Paul rightly teaches that the validity of the Christian faith hangs on the bodily resurrection of Jesus. Had Christ not been raised, he argues, our faith would be worthless because without the resurrection we would be doomed to futility. Our only hope would be for meaning in this life, a prospect that Ecclesiastes long ago decried as “Meaningless!” (1 Cor. 15:17, 19; Eccl. 1:2). But Jesus rose—that is a fact! And, Paul continues, he marks the “firstfruits” of a huge future harvest that includes all believers, living and dead (1 Cor. 15:20, 23). Because he rose, so will we! More important, in the oft-sung words of André Crouch, “because He lives, I can face tomorrow.” We experience the power of his resurrection today at work in our lives!

These are the big-picture “amazing feats.” But every Christian has his or her own story to tell of something amazing God did for them. I remember mine every November 11 because it happened on that day in 1971, the day my ministry as a circuit-riding Navy chaplain took me to Kien An, a small Navy base in far western South Vietnam. It stood on the northern edge of the U Minh Forest, a place that a popular rumor said was so safe that the Viet Cong went there for rest and recreation. That made Kien An a place so dangerous that everyone slept in bunkers in case of mortar attacks. As I chatted with a young sailor that morning, I heard an explosion outside to my right and felt something hit my right foot. “We’d better get to a bunker, Chaplain,” the young man said, so I rushed behind him out the back door.

As it turned out, a claymore mine planted in the ground outside had accidentally detonated, spewing small ball bearings in a deadly arc. One had passed right through my right foot, another had lodged near the ankle. A corpsman gave me first aid, and a medevac helicopter soon took me to an Army field hospital for treatment. Months later, however, I learned of God’s “amazing feat” on that day from a friend. A refrigerator along the wall between me and the mine apparently had absorbed most of the blast, thus sparing my life. That is why every November 11 my family and I do something to celebrate it and to express gratitude to God for the gift of the rich years of life since then.

Some of my friends (not their real names) have experienced their own niplaʾot from God.

• Charlie praises God for years of sobriety after decades of slavery to alcohol.

• Marian and John revel in the antics of the three small children God gave them after painful years of infertility.

• God helped Annette to overcome awkwardness and insecurity around people so she could pursue her personal dreams.

• Candice praises God for providing an employer willing to retrain and employ her after several hard, frustrating years of unemployment.

• Bernie and Tanya thank God for the inner healing that enabled their marriage to survive and to thrive despite some rocky years.

• Charlotte is still amazed that the frightening tumor surgeons removed a decade ago was benign and has not returned.

• George still thanks God for a timely medical exam that gave surgeons the chance to avert a life-ending disaster none too soon.

These examples represent only a small sample of the stories to be heard in a circle of Christian friends or within a local church.

They all represent personal crises, but some of God’s feats involve more ordinary moments. Sometimes Jesus just lifts our spirits, gives us new insight into ourselves or others, or heals simple sicknesses. Other times his loving rebuke steers us around pitfalls, or his gentle nudge gets us past our reluctance to do the right thing. These, too, are “amazing feats,” albeit on a smaller scale, and rightly lead us to celebrate with gratitude and joy over what God has done. In Joshua’s words, we “know with all [our] heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the LORD [our] God gave [us] has failed” (Josh. 23:14). Such persuasive, personal knowledge leads us to sing with the psalmist:

I will extol the LORD at all time;

His praise will always be on my lips.

My soul will boast in the LORD;

let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

Glorify the LORD with me;

let us exalt his name together. (Ps. 34:1–3[2–4]54

Warnings against harmful associations. Joshua’s farewell speech warns us against harmful associations. His prime concern for Israel revolves around the faith-corrupting influences of Canaanites in daily dealings and in intermarriages. He knows such associations will exert influence, even when its participants are unaware of it. This raises a question as to what associations might somehow harm a Christian’s commitment to Christ today. A common scriptural axiom today says that Christians are to be “in the world but not of the world.” It acknowledges the delicate dance demanded of Christians. Their mission for Christ requires them to live amid pagan cultures while at the same retaining their unique Christian identity.

At first glance, the daily dance demanded to strike that delicate balance seems to involve easy, clear-cut steps. Believers are to continue their worship practices, maintain genuine piety, adhere to high standards of ethics and personal morality, and seek for a positive reputation in the community. My guess is that many Christians give little thought to their day-to-day associations, except when the latter bump up against something that obviously conflicts with their Christian faith. They also realize the necessity of avoiding associations that appeal to their weaknesses. For an alcoholic to go with friends to a bar obviously courts disaster, as do situations likely to light the fuse of someone with a hot, uncontrollable temper.

But more subtle influences preoccupy other biblical writers besides the author of Joshua. For example, Paul urged the Corinthians not to be “yoked together with unbelievers” because they simply have nothing in common (2 Cor. 6:14–16). His concluding exhortation suggests the reason for that sweeping statement: “Let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God” (7:1). Apparently, too cozy associations with unbelievers “contaminates” a Christian’s whole being (“body and spirit”), while more distant associations promote purity, holiness, and reverence for God. Consider, further, Romans 12:2 in The Message:

Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

Be wary of the world’s influence. Many biblical passages similarly warn us to be wary of the world’s influence. They assume that a subtle battle rages between God and rebellious cultures over our inner maturity in Christ. The culture promotes its vision of inner maturity, a vision that in reality amounts to immaturity. Unconsciously, we are caught in the crossfire between God’s inner work and the culture’s desire for conquest. Alas, as unimportant as we may think we are, we are in fact Ground Zero of the cosmic struggle of the forces of evil against God.

A story that author Max Lucado tells throws some light on this matter.55 One night two prowlers made a crazy visit to a department store long after it had closed. They came, did their business, and left unnoticed. Surprisingly, rather than rob, they simply pulled off an ingenious prank: They swapped the price tags of items in the store. They took the $395.00 sticker from an expensive camera and stuck it on a $5.00 box of ordinary stationery. A $5.95 tag from a paperback book now stuck to $500 outboard motor. The secret price-tag switch revalued every item of merchandise in the store. Even crazier, the next morning the store did four hours of business before anyone noticed the switched prices! Whoever bought the outboard motor got an incredible bargain, but the stationery purchaser got taken royally. The pranksters had assigned items values totally out of whack with their actual value.

Lucado points that out a similar, crazy, distorted system of values bombards us every day: “We see the most valuable things in our lives peddled for pennies and we see the cheapest smut go for millions.”56 In his view, the two things that fetch the highest prices today are performance and appearance. The culture highly values people who act and look the way it thinks is impressive. Celebrities such as famous athletes, successful business leaders, rising politicians, and entertainment stars carry hefty price tags. People who look athletic or who ooze sex appeal—people who draw paparazzi like flies to honey—fetch similar inflated prices. It is this distortion of price tags—and its preoccupation with superficial externals—that subtly interfere with God’s work of reshaping Christians inside. The temptation is for ordinary folks, Christians included, to envy people bearing such hefty cultural price tags and to seek to be like them. The danger is that such preoccupations slow, if not stop, God’s invisible inner work of transformation. His priority is powerfully to change people from the inside out—their character, attitudes, worldview, and values.

An exchange between Yahweh and the prophet Jeremiah illustrates this battle for priorities (Jer. 15:15–21). The prophet has obviously preached publicly and been jeered by the crowd for his message of judgment. That is why he asks Yahweh to “avenge me on my persecutors” in light of the “reproach [I suffer] for your sake” (15:15). To support his plea, Jeremiah affirms his faithfulness as a prophet—his delighted devouring of Yahweh’s word and his solitary lifestyle away from the revelers around him (vv. 16–17). But he also complains. Why, he asks, has the reward for his devotion been “pain unending” and a “wound grievous and incurable” (v. 18a)? Finally, he levels a blunt accusation against Yahweh (v. 18b): “Will you be to me like a deceptive brook, like a spring that fails?” In other words, is Yahweh going to play with him, feigning genuine care for a time only to dump him in the end?

Mighty powerful words! But deep hurt lies behind them. The rejection by his peers of his message has soured Jeremiah’s attitude toward Yahweh. The jeering peers have disillusioned Jeremiah and embittered him against God. He does not truly “love the LORD [his] God” anymore. In reply, Yahweh makes two very telling statements featuring the word šub (“turn around, return”). First, he lays down a condition (Jer. 15:19a). To continue as prophet (šub hi. “I will restore”), Jeremiah must stop (šub “turn from”) saying stupid things like his “deceptive brook” remark. Second (and even more telling), he says, “Let this people turn [šub] to you, but you must not turn [šub] to them” (v. 19b).

I have highlighted the use of šub here because it creates a picture of Jeremiah’s situation. The prophet stands in the middle between Israel and Yahweh and can move (“turn”) in either direction. Yahweh’s call for him to “repent” (šub) implies that he has “turned” from Yahweh toward the people and needs to reverse his course. The point of being a prophet, Yahweh implies, is to get the people to “turn” toward Jeremiah (and Yahweh), not for Jeremiah to “turn” the other way. Apparently, the influence of the crowd is taking its toll on Jeremiah, compromising his standing with Yahweh as a prophet.

Today, the same crowd influence sinisterly seeks to get us to “turn” its way—to orient our lives around its values—rather than to get our bearings from God. That is why Joshua’s ancient warning bears repeating: Be wary of the world’s influences. The call is for us to audit our inventory of associations—our friendships, business associates, coworkers, club memberships, social networks, and the like—in order to assess their influence. Picture yourself in the middle of a street facing Jesus on one curb with a given association on the other. Be honest with yourself (and perhaps seek the advice of a wise outsider); has that connection drawn you away from Jesus or has it had no effect? (Ideally, it would draw non-Christians to join you in the middle, facing Jesus). Does it stir up ethical or moral qualms? Has it affected your attitudes or infected your vocabulary? Is your motivation to honor and represent God through it, or does it feed common but not necessarily Christ-like desires?

Guarding our unique identity. Finally, Joshua’s farewell address calls us to guard our unique identity as God’s people. Three commands summarize how we are to do that. (1) We are to obey God’s word unswervingly (v. 6). In Joshua’s day, God’s Word was the “Book of the Law of Moses,” but today it constitutes the entire Bible. Notice that the phrase “turn aside to the right or to the left” evokes a particular metaphor for God’s Word, the picture of a path that one chooses for a trip.

When my kids were young, we periodically took car trips to visit family in two other states, each more than a thousand miles away. The idea of choosing the “right path” was important to us. The long distances required careful planning since no direct routes connected us with our destinations. We consulted maps to select the most direct, least mountainous, route and to estimate the time required to arrive. In two cases, both northern and southern routes were available, so we had to calculate which of the two took the shortest time. Once we had decided the route, we had to determine how long each day’s drive would be and where to stop for meals and lodging. Guidebooks gave us options on the latter and also informed us of the kinds of weather we might face. Several trips demanded that we cross deserts. Since our early vehicles lacked air conditioning, we had to find out where the A&W Root Beer stands were!

With the Bible, the terrain to traverse is life, a long and important journey. Now, one might think that it is a given that Christians obey the Bible and that to stress this idea is simply to point out the obvious. But one recent signal undermines that assumption—the rise in biblical illiteracy among Christians. According to one recent survey, only twenty percent of Americans could identify the person who preached the Sermon on the Mount. (Most credited it to Billy Graham!). When Jay Leno asked his Tonight Show audience to name one of the twelve apostles, no one could. A recent Gallup Poll found that fewer Americans are reading the Bible than two decades ago. In the 1980s 79 percent of respondents reported reading it occasionally, but only 59 percent do so today. Among Christians, only 16 percent of those polled report reading it daily. When David Eikenberry, a youth pastor in Michigan, gave a simple quiz on Bible knowledge in his church, the average score was 40 percent. “We live in an America where we have Bibles everywhere, and yet we’re too busy to read them,” he commented.57 Frankly, it is hard to obey God’s Word if one does not read it much.

A further problem is that the path God’s Word lays out is by no means the only path available to us. Our culture offers routes through life with wider roadways, less demanding terrains, more comfortable weather, and more attractions along the way. It even promotes shortcuts and fast lanes that promise to get us where we aspire to go quicker and easier. Joshua, however, challenges us to stick unswervingly to the only truly reliable path for life, the one in God’s Word. The path courses through “the world,” so it passes all the splashy billboards and flashing neon signs that our culture posts to entice us off the path, if only temporarily. The crossroads, off-ramps, and detours to alternate routes mark many media offerings, and their tempting messages are cleverly persuasive.

But recall the twice-repeated warning from Proverbs: “There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death” (Prov. 14:12; 16:25 TNIV). The glitz and glitter of the world’s superhighways cannot hide that they end as a Dead End at the corner of Heartbreak Alley and Disaster Street. The only alternative is the path of the Word of God. It is imperative that churches and believers raise their level of biblical literacy. And by “biblical literacy” I mean learning Bible facts as well as feeling the grip of the Bible’s vision of human life and destiny on our outlook and actions. Its vision and values point to the path of obedience—the only route to preserve our unique Christian identity.

(2) A second command is “to hold fast to the LORD your God” (23:8). “Hold fast” (or “cling to, stick with”) creates a visual image of someone tightly clutching or sticking close to someone else. It reminds me of scenes in the park when my children were little. As my wife and I sat off to the side, they would frolic freely on every swing set or slide in sight. A small, shallow creek ran through our park, so when they tired of swinging, sliding, and climbing, they would wander off there to romp happily in the water. Occasionally, we would hear the heavy “Splash!” of a rock heaved in the creek. But when a dark afternoon storm threatened, the first clap of thunder would send them running to us. Fear drove them to cling to us for safety.

Love also drives people to cling to each other. Pairs of lovers of all ages strolled arm-in-arm through our park, too. Holding each other acted out their committed relationship and devotion to each other. Occasionally, holding would give way to a full embrace. If a couple walked widely separated, that signaled a distant, perhaps strained relationship. Friendship also led small groups to stick together as they walked the trails through our park, often enjoying lively conversation. In short, to “cling to” or “stick to” the Lord implies an ongoing relationship and closeness. The psalmist models that passion for closeness when he cries, “My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me” (Ps. 63:8).

What does it mean to “cling to” our Lord? It means to stay close to him—to not let anything come between us. That implies that we do our best to confess sin as soon as we recognize it. That demands that when we are angry with him over some disappointment, we pray a psalm of complaint to give words to our turbulent feelings. We must work hard to carve out time for prayer, meditation, and worship to make contact with him. At such times, a healthy relationship with Jesus grows by the disciplined use of both speaking to God and of listening for his voice. That means that we affirm daily, “Lord, may all I do today please you greatly!” That means that we leave uncluttered spaces in our lives to do practical things for others in his name.

Further, “to hold fast” to Jesus means to depend on him alone for safety and security. One current, highly valued cultural theme is the personal trait of rugged independence. From John Wayne to Indiana Jones, our culture admires can-do people, people able to overcome incredible odds or surmount insurmountable barriers by their own pluck or cleverness. Not so with followers of Jesus. He wants us to rely on him every moment—to cling tightly to him as my children did to us when the thunder roared above them. He desires that we depend on his strength rather than our weakness—that we let his resurrection power flow through us. Whatever our need—danger, doubt, indecision, downheartedness—his name should be the first to come to mind or to be spoken. He is even more important than 9–1–1!

Each December, opinion researcher George Barna reviews what he deems the important themes that emerged in his religious surveys that year. Among the list for 2006 were two that bear on the subject under discussion. (1) He observed that

people do not have an accurate view of themselves when it comes to spirituality. American Christians are not as devoted to their faith as they like to believe. They have positive feelings about the importance of faith, but their faith is rarely the focal point of their life or a critical factor in their decision-making.58

In Barna’s view, most people neither set up benchmarks or measures by which to assess the progress (or regress) of their spiritual journey, nor do they pause for time to assess it. As a result, they think their faith is more important and more pure than it actually is.

(2) Barna also observed that, judged by biblical standards of how Christianity is to be practiced, Americans are spiritually lukewarm. Their efforts at spiritual growth are limited to church attendance, where they occasionally pick up a few ideas about it. Thus, most spiritual growth is “accidental”—it just sort of happens. This is because few people have both a clear understanding of what they aspire to become as followers of Christ and a well-thought-out plan to reach it. The numerous distractions that dominate the lives of most people simply crowd out such serious spiritual reflection.

If Barna is right, most of us live with Jesus at arm’s length—unintentionally, of course. Our challenge is intentionally to move closer to God. This may require us to simplify our lives, to slow down a little, perhaps even to sit down quietly every so often. To carve out quiet moments will demand that we rid our lives of some of the distractions that shut Jesus out. And we will need to devote those quiet spaces to studying Scripture and prayer. The topic for study, reflection, and prayer concerns what Jesus expects of us, his followers. Over time, the Holy Spirit will give us a new sense of direction for our spiritual journey and help us plan the path to take to pursue it. In the process, we will rediscover what it means truly to “hold fast” to Jesus.

(3) The final command of Joshua is “to love the LORD your God” (23:11)—the greatest commandment, according to Jesus (Matt. 22:36–38). Here Jesus quotes Moses, especially the Shema (Deut. 6:5; cf. 11:1, 13, 22; 19:9; 30:16, 20), and reaffirms the validity of that ancient truth. But what does it mean to “love God”? In contemporary culture, “love” seems to connote something passive and sentimental. Lovers “fall in love,” we say, as if they somehow caught love by accident like one catches a cold or the flu. Also, “love” has taken on so many uses that the word can mean almost anything. “I love your cooking,” a well-satisfied guest might say to a host. In that case, “love” has the sense of “appreciate” or “enjoy,” so by “love God” Jesus simply might mean to “appreciate” him. A fan might say to a hero, “I really love the way you (play the violin/carry yourself/run pass patterns, etc.).” In this context, “love” means to “think highly of” or “admire,” so to “love God” might mean to admire him greatly.

But by quoting Moses’ full statement, Jesus himself supplies one clue about the love of God—that it requires concerted effort. It is done right only, he says, “with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” In biblical thought, the phrase “heart, soul, and mind” describes the totality of a person’s inner self. The three terms share some semantic overlap, but in this context each suggests a specific sense. The “heart” marks primarily the center of the will and emotions, the “soul” the person’s spiritual dimensions (i.e., awareness of and desire for God), and the “mind” the seat of thinking or self-awareness. In contemporary terms, Jesus commands us to love God “with everything we’ve got.”

Jesus’ final conversation with Peter (John 21:14–23) further illumines what love for God entails—that it requires self-giving to people about whom he cares. Jesus has just finished eating a meal during his third post-resurrection visit with his disciples. Suddenly, referring to the others, he asks Peter, “Do you truly love me more than these?” (v. 15). What a tough question! By “more than these” does Jesus want Peter to say that he loves Jesus more than they do? Or, is he asking whether Peter loves Jesus more than he loves his friends? Whatever the case, Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you,” so Jesus commands him, “Feed my lambs.” “Lambs” that belong to Jesus probably refers to young, vulnerable followers in need of Peter’s nurture and guidance.

A second exchange follows the same script, but this time Jesus’ command is: “Take care of my sheep” (John 21:16). “Sheep” probably designates Jesus’ other, more mature disciples, and “take care” (lit., “tend, shepherd”) tasks Peter with their care, especially instruction and leadership, on Jesus’ behalf.

Finally, when Jesus asks the same question a third time, Peter feels hurt (John 21:17). He appeals to Jesus’ omniscience (“you know all things”) to convince Jesus that he does love him. Jesus replies, “Feed my sheep,” a command that combines the imperative from the first exchange with the direct object of the second. Literarily, it knits both together to say, “Peter, feed my whole flock.”

Why does Jesus put Peter on the spot? Because he knows that Peter is going to die a violent death at the hands of others, glorifying God in the process (John 21:18–19). Indeed, Jesus’ final command is “Follow me!”—an indicator that Peter’s death would be like his own. Jesus is testing the depths of Peter’s love: Is he willing to die for Jesus?

From this conversation we learn that to love Jesus requires the engagement of every ounce of our being and focuses on the care of people about whom Jesus cares—the Christian community. In my view, Jesus also has in mind prospective community members, people who will later follow Jesus because of Christian witness. Further, to love Jesus may require the ultimate self-sacrifice from some of us (notice: in Peter’s case, but not in John’s [John 21:21–23]). To love Jesus truly means to be willing even to surrender one’s life in his service and on behalf of the Christian community. That is the love that Jesus modeled and that he commanded of his disciples (15:12). He said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (15:13 TNIV). In short, to “love God” is as all-consuming and all-demanding as to love one’s spouse, family, and friends.

This brings me back to one more observation by Barna. His radar screen shows an intriguing but generally unnoticed blip that, in his view, is already reshaping American religious faith. He calls it “the Revolutionary community,” his collective term for diverse groups of like-minded people whose faith truly marks the driving force of their lives. He foresees the gap between the revolutionaries and other Christians widening in the future: “The difference will become strikingly evident between those who make faith the core of their life and those who simply attach a religious component on to an already mature lifestyle.”59

Barna may be on to something here. I myself have observed that many sincere Christians seem to treat Jesus as an add-on to an already full life rather than as its center. To them he is like a spiritual Norton System Works: He operates in the background to ease their fears, keep their lives running smoothly, and to protect them from disasters and crashes. But background Jesus does not match the biblical Jesus, who demands to be the motherboard, the nerve-center running the whole show. In his words, he want to be nothing less than “Lord.” He is quite clear on this:

No servant can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money (Luke 16:13; Matt. 6:24 TNIV).

For us, the questions are: Is Jesus simply a background add-on or the absolute sovereign of our lives? Do we really love him “with all [our] heart and with all [our] soul and with all [our] mind”? Are we among Jesus’ true “Revolutionary community,” or simply a sincere, well-meaning member of the weekly crowd that gathers to hear him preach? Hopefully, we can sing, with hymnwriter Timothy Dudley-Smith (“As Water to the Thirsty”), that our living Lord is to us like refreshing water, renewed strength, beauty worth beholding, a soothing calm amid chaos, and the happy home to which we return after a long trip.

Original Meaning

Remembrance and Exhortation, Part 2 (23:9–13)

FROM EXHORTATION JOSHUA RETURNS again to the past deeds of Yahweh that they themselves have seen (vv. 9–10). He reminds them that Yahweh “destroyed” (yaraš; NIV “has driven out”) once “great and powerful nations”22 on their behalf. The words recall Joshua’s assurance of the people just before the Jordan crossing (3:10), itself an echo of Yahweh’s promise in Deuteronomy to destroy “[nations] greater and more powerful than you [Israel]” (Deut. 4:38; 9:1; 11:23). As part of the patriarchal promise, the words here imply that with the enemies’ defeat, Israel has become the “great and powerful nation” God promised (Gen. 18:18; Deut. 26:5). That fact heightens the urgency of Joshua’s speech all the more.

But Joshua repeats a phrase heard earlier in the book to highlight what Israel saw because Yahweh fought for them. Just as he promised, they were so unstoppable (see 10:8; 21:44; Est. 9:2) that one solitary Israelite could rout a thousand Canaanites (vv. 9b–10)!23 That was Israel’s experience “to this day,” but for that invincibility under Yahweh to continue, Israel must “be very careful [šamar ni.] to love the LORD your God” (v. 11). The imperative is strong language—lit., “Protect yourselves!”—as if Joshua were sounding an urgent alarm concerning a terrible, imminent disaster.

“To love the LORD” is a central demand in Deuteronomy that the DH also promotes (Josh. 22:5; 1 Kings 3:3).24 This “love” reciprocates God’s prior initiatives of love already shown to Israel (Deut. 7:8). It includes feelings of genuine affection toward God (Deut. 10:15) as well as a lifestyle of loyalty, fidelity, and devotion to him.25 To live that lifestyle is to do what God commands and teaches through Moses—in Joshua 23, to avoid entanglements with the nations and their gods.

But why should Israelites “protect themselves”? The threatening influence in verses 6–8 will derive from Israel’s simply hanging around and doing business with Canaanites. But in the long conditional warning (vv. 12–13), the threatening influence is actual intermarriage with them in violation of Deuteronomy 7:1–5. It is the people, not their god(s), who pose the threat to Israel.26 The underlying concern is not with racial or ethnic purity (a relatively modern idea) but with the complex bonds of legal and social relationships that marriages forge between families (see the case of Dinah in Gen. 34).27

For example, such kinship connections might entail acceptance of legal demands according to Canaanite standards and protected by Canaanite gods. That acceptance would be tantamount to recognizing the existence and authority of the latter. The stipulation Joshua lays down aims to preserve the people as a legal and cultic community related to Yahweh alone. Otherwise, if Israel “turns” from Yahweh and “clings” to Canaanites—that is, intermarries with them (v. 12; cf. 1 Kings 11:2, 11)—Israel should fully grasp the disastrous consequences they are risking (v. 13).28 Rather than destroy the nations, Yahweh will leave them be (cf. Judg. 2:3) to become “snares and traps” for Israel.

The trapping metaphor colors the coming disaster as a complete surprise (i.e., an unintended consequence), inescapable and ultimately fatal (cf. Job 18:9–10; Ex. 23:33; Num. 33:55; Deut. 7:16). As a bird’s entry triggers the trap, so intermarriage seals Israel’s tragic fate. The paired metaphors of “whips” and “thorns” picture the punishment’s ongoing petty irritation and electric agony (cf. Judg. 2:10–19). Inevitably, as a trapped bird is killed and eaten, Israel will “perish” from the “good land” Yahweh has given (cf. Josh. 23:16). The sad irony is that a foolish pragmatism on Israel’s part will cost future generations the very land of promise for which past generations have so earnestly longed.29 But it should come as no surprise. Nothing so hurts and infuriates God as when his people leave him and take up with other “lovers” (Ezek. 16:32–42; 23:22; Hos. 2:13). And Moses had long ago warned them of that tragic truth in terms that shaped Joshua 23 (cf. Deut. 8:19–20; 11:16–17; 30:17–18).

Final Warning (23:14–16)