Original Meaning

Preparations at Gilgal (5:2–12)

The Circumcision Ceremony (vv. 2–9)

THE CIRCUMCISION CEREMONY (VV. 2–9). How does Israel prepare for the coming attack on Jericho? In his first speech since 4:15–16, Yahweh decrees that Joshua must lead Israel in a circumcision ceremony using flint knives (vv. 2–9).11 As is well known, Yahweh instituted this rite—the ritual removal of the foreskin of the penis—as the sign of his covenant with Abraham’s descendants and the symbol of Israel’s unique identity (Gen. 17:10–14; Lev. 12:3).12 “At that time” apparently places the present ceremony during the four days between Israel’s arrival at Gilgal and the Passover observance (Josh. 5:10–12). But the comment (v. 2b) that this marks a second occasion of circumcision (“again,” is šenit [lit., “a second time”]) is puzzling since the Bible records no first circumcision of Israel by Joshua. Probably the text speaks broadly, counting preexodus circumcision in Egypt as the “first” time and Joshua’s circumcision here as the “second” (cf. 4–5).13

But the real question is why Yahweh commands that circumcision be done now. Amid Israel’s risky intrusion into Canaan, why perform a religious rite that would sideline Israel’s soldiers for days of painful recovery? (1) The risk may in fact not be all that great. Recall that news of the miraculous crossing had immobilized the Canaanite monarchs with fear (5:1), so they apparently pose no real threat to the Israelite camp.

(2) Joshua 4:19 dates the crossing to the tenth day of the first month, creating the expectation of a Passover observance four days later (Lev. 23:5). That only the circumcised could participate (Ex. 12:44, 48) explains the attention that the author devotes to the procedure here.14 Unlike their ancestors who died in the wilderness, the generation born in the wilderness had not been circumcised (vv. 4–7).15

(3) Circumcision ensures the ritual fitness of Israel’s soldiers (lit., “men of war,” vv. 4, 6), a requirement for the upcoming war of Yahweh. The evocative phrase “a land flowing with milk and honey” (v. 6b), a tasty echo of Israel’s ancient hopes, reminds the reader that ultimately possession of the land is at stake here.16 In short, at issue is a question that echoes throughout the book: Will this generation—the one Yahweh graciously preserved in the wilderness (v. 7)—obey him and keep (not lose) the land? Joshua himself obeys by circumcising the “nation,” ensuring that the earlier sad history not repeat itself (v. 8), at least not for now. The ritual marks this younger Israel as Yahweh’s covenant people and ritually fit to occupy the land.

A solemn pronouncement by Yahweh (“Today I have rolled away …”) gives it even greater meaning for all Israel (“you” is plural) and ties it to the place name “Gilgal” (v. 9). What is this “reproach of Egypt” that Yahweh declares as rolled away? Two similar phrases suggest that the reproach here is the scorn that Egypt has heaped on Israel (Ezek. 16:57; Zeph. 2:8; Ps. 89:50), but the reason for it is unclear. One possible reason is Israel’s slavery in Egypt, but that seems unlikely, since the present wilderness generation would not have personally suffered Egyptian scorn for slavery.17 Verses 4–6 suggest another possible reason for the humiliation—the terrible judgment that befell the Exodus generation for disobedience. Certainly, the text seems to imply that the present circumcision ends that sad era.18

But, in my view, the best explanation factors in all the motifs of vv. 4–7: the dead generation’s failure and judgment, Yahweh’s gift of land, and the younger generation’s uncircumcised status. The uncircumcision symbolizes the whole sorry period of landless wandering and the cynical interpretive spin that Egypt gave it. The “reproach of Egypt” would be Egypt’s biting ridicule that Yahweh had royally snookered poor Israel, promising the moon but leaving their high hopes bogged down in the desert sands (see Ex. 32:12; Num. 14:13–16; Deut. 9:28).19 Through circumcision (and in Canaan, too!), this generation confirms its obedient spirit and gives Yahweh warrant to declare the past humiliation dead and buried, never to be thrown accusingly at Israel again. In essence, Yahweh welcomes this generation to his covenant and grants it a fresh start in his land. Henceforth, Israel will call the site where Yahweh “rolled (it) away” Gilgal, the name evoking memories of Yahweh’s historic declaration.20

The Passover Observance (vv. 10–12)

The Passover observance (vv. 10–12). The observance of Passover marks the second important prebattle activity (vv. 10–12). This takes place four days after Israel’s arrival, with the people encamped at Gilgal in the plains of Jericho. They celebrate it “on the evening” of the fourteenth day, testimony to their careful conformity to divine instructions (Ex. 12:6; Deut. 16:4, 6).21 This is further evidence that an obedient spirit guides the younger generation, at least thus far.

Indeed, Israel as a people temporarily replaces Joshua at center stage in the scene. Their prominence leaves the impression that Israel initiates Passover on their own, without prompting from either Yahweh or Joshua. The symbolic importance of this event for the new arrivals merits mention. Passover remembers the night when the tenth plague—the death of the firstborn—struck Egypt but spared Israel (Ex. 12). On that night Israel actually left slavery behind and entered a new era, life as a free people. The last recorded observance of Passover took place at the beginning of Israel’s second year out of Egypt (Num. 9).22 Thus, as Israel’s first Passover in the new land, this celebration signals a new beginning for their national life.23 Indeed, the narrator highlights two notable events in successive days to confirm the dawning of a new day for Israel.

The day after Passover the people feed themselves for the first time with food grown in their new land (Josh. 5:11).24 They eat two Middle Eastern staples, “unleavened bread [cakes]” and “roasted [i.e., cooked] grain.”25 How Israel comes by this food is not stated, although we know that they arrive at harvest time (3:15). The mention of unleavened bread presupposes both access to and use of grain milled into flour. The point is that the food is “homegrown” in Canaan, not provisions brought with them (cf. 1:11). At the same time, the two specific items constitute a kind of ancient “fast food”—simple, easy-to-fix fare ideal for people in a hurry.26 Once settled, Israel will have time enough fully to savor Canaan’s diverse, rich bounty.

The second notable event occurs the next day. Since Israel now eats off the land, their daily supply of manna, that mysterious food that fed them through the wilderness, stops (v. 12; cf. Ex. 16:31–33; Deut. 8:3).27 The note that “there was no longer any manna for the Israelites” interprets this event as the end of an era—the Exodus-wilderness period. Indeed, literarily the events that end the wilderness wandering—crossing, circumcision, Passover (Josh. 3–5; see comment on ʿabar on 6:7)—actually mirror those that precede it (i.e., the Exodus), albeit in reverse order (Ex. 12–14).28

Ahead lies the new era (“that year”) of living off the land of Canaan (see Ex. 16:35). “Harvest” and “produce” here are not yet “milk and honey,” but for these veteran desert nomads every fresh, tasty bite confirms that they are home. Yahweh has kept his promise to get them there, and full enjoyment of the land lies near at hand (cf. Deut. 6:11). “Produce of Canaan” may also have a military connotation here. The food supply of ancient armies besieging a city came from local fields, orchards, and vineyards (Deut. 20:19–20). Thus, the term may specifically relate to the land conquest motif of Joshua—Israel’s army feeding itself from local food stocks.29

In other words, in these brief events, sunset falls across Israel’s sorry past forty years while a joyous new day dawns on the Israelite camp. Yes, battles lie ahead, but for the moment Israel pauses to reflect on Passover, celebration of salvation in the past, and to relish the present goodness of their new land and of the God who had brought them there.

The Ritual Siege of Jericho (5:13–6:27)

Bridging Contexts

THE BRIDGE FROM JOSHUA 5–6 to Contemporary Significance traverses some difficult terrain. First, it returns us briefly to the use of the number seven and noises in Joshua 6. Second, it discusses two controversial subjects, the archaeology of Jericho and the troubling issue of violence in Joshua.

Of sevens and noises. The prominence of “seven”/“seventh” is not surprising. Several Israelite cultic festivals last seven days,76 as did the celebration that dedicated Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 8:62–66). Mesopotamian literature prominently features seven in lists associated with gods and in reports of seven-day festivals or sevenfold ritual actions.77 More important, both Akkadian and Ugaritic literatures attest the pattern of an action repeated for six days followed by a decisive event on the seventh. In the Gilgamesh Epic, the seventh day marks the moment the storm subsides, and Gilgamesh offers the gods seven bowls of offerings and forfeits immortality for sleeping for seven days.78 The six-day ritual with seventh-day climax, therefore, follows this ancient Near Eastern pattern.

As for the noise makers, the term teruʿah (Josh. 6:5, 20) apparently means “sharp, loud sound,” whether a trumpet blast, clashing cymbal (Ps. 150:5), or human shout.79 In military contexts, trumpet blasts sound simple signals for troops (Num. 10:5–6; Judg. 3:27; 6:34; 7:18) or alarms in cities under attack (Ezek. 33:4, 5; Neh. 4:20). Israel also uses battle cries to terrify their enemies (Judg. 7:20–22; 1 Sam. 4:5–6; 17:20), especially as a battle begins (17:52), and also hears their attacking enemies’ shouts (Zeph. 1:16; cf. Amos 1:14; 2:2). In cultic contexts, blowing trumpets accompany Yahweh’s dramatic descent on Mount Sinai (Ex. 19:13, 16), the entrance of the ark into Jerusalem with David (2 Sam. 6:15), and Israel’s songs of praise (Ps. 47:5–6[6–7]; 98:5–6). Trumpet blasts across Israel also announce the opening of the important Year of Jubilee (Lev. 25:9).80 Shouts of praise accompany sacrifices and ceremonies in the temple (Ps. 27:6; 89:15[16]; cf. Num. 29:1; Job 8:21) and celebrate the laying of the temple’s foundation (Ezra 3:11). It is no surprise, then, that the present act of Yahweh’s war, the ritual conquest of Jericho, combines these military and cultic customs. The dramatic climax of the seven-day ceremony is surely something worth making noise about!

The problem of ḥerem.81 Many Bible readers find the wholesale killing of Canaanites in Joshua 6 repulsive and disturbing. They find it hard to accept that their loving God sanctioned the brutal annihilation of an entire city. Hard, disquieting questions arise concerning the morality of their God. If given the chance, some might even vote Joshua completely out of the canon. A review of three biblical ideas—Yahweh’s war, the concept of ḥerem (or “the ban”), and God’s mandate—launch us on the road to reckoning with the violence in Joshua.

The term “Yahweh’s war” describes the biblical theme that God has enemies whom he defeats militarily, usually with Israel’s participation and for their benefit.82 In Joshua, the concept shapes its narration of the defeats of Jericho (ch. 6), Ai (ch. 8), Gibeon (10:1–15), and southern and northern Canaan (10:16–11:23). It assumes that such war is a sacred act and, hence, requires ritual purity in Israel’s war camp (Deut. 23:9–14; cf. Josh. 3:5; 1 Sam. 7:9–10; 13:8–14; 2 Sam. 11:11).83 Yahweh himself issues the command for Israel to attack (e.g., Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 6:1–5; 8:8; 10:40; 11:12, 15, 20, 23), but he alone (not Israel) actually fights and wins the victory.84 Israel is simply to trust Yahweh for victory, not depend on their own devices.

Basically, the word ḥerem means “utter destruction” (Isa. 43:28; Zech. 14:11; Mal. 4:6 [3:24]) or “plunder” (Ezek. 26:5) and derives from the root ḥaram hi. (“to utterly destroy annihilate” [cities, nations, people, livestock]”).85 In Leviticus and Joshua, however, the root has a specifically religious sense. The verb connotes “to devote to destruction” (e.g., Lev. 27:21; Josh. 6:21), the noun an “object devoted to destruction” or “banned object” (e.g., Lev. 27:28, 29; Num. 18:14; Josh. 6:17). Whatever is “devoted to destruction” or “banned” is assumed to be consecrated to Yahweh for his exclusive ownership and use. In essence, it has been transferred from the profane realm of humans to the holy realm of Yahweh (Josh. 8:26, 28; cf. Mic. 4:13).

As God’s exclusive property, ḥerem enjoys the highest degree of holiness (“most holy to the LORD” [Lev. 27:28]) and cannot be redeemed for return to the profane sphere. Thus, the only humans who may possess it are Israel’s priests, who had custody of land consecrated to Yahweh (Lev. 27:21; cf. v. 28; Num. 18:14; Ezek. 44:29). However strange it sounds, this religious practice was not unique to Israel. In the Mesha Inscription (ninth cent. B.C.), King Mesha of Moab also invokes the cognate verb: He “devoted to destruction” (ḥerem) an Israelite city to his god, Ashtar Chemosh.86 But one crucial qualification concerning the practice in Israel bears mentioning: The Old Testament does not understand every Israelite destruction of a city or people as an act of religious ḥerem. No Israelite leader can on his own decide to impose ḥerem on an enemy—only Yahweh himself can designate what is ḥerem.

The divine mandate (Deut. 20:16–18) probably raises the reader’s theological queasiness the most. Yahweh allows offers of peace to foreign cities under Israelite siege (vv. 19–20) but mandates that Israel “not leave alive anything that breathes” among Canaan’s six peoples (vv. 16–18). There is no getting around that cold hard fact. No humane provisions exempt women, children, the disabled, or the elderly. The reason is that they will lead Israel into apostasy (cf. Deut. 7:2; 13:16, 18; Josh. 6:17, 18, 21). In other words, ḥerem in this case concerns not judgment on Canaanites for abhorrent practices but protection of Israelites from their persuasive instruction.

This sweeping mandate sparks many questions. Was this slaughter really necessary? Was Canaanite religion so attractive—and Israel’s faith so fragile—as to make Israelite apostasy inevitable? And, most important, what does this policy imply about the moral character of Yahweh? Does it suggest that God considers other—if not all—human life as of similar low value? Does it expose God as a cold, forbidding, irascible deity—a kind of cosmic Darth Vader eerily possessed of an erratic “dark side”?

Three recent scholars have proposed ways to understand Joshua’s violent ethnic cleansing. Rowlett suggests that we read Joshua as a special kind of rhetoric, the rhetoric of violence, not necessarily the report of actual events. In her view, its military language borrows the rhetoric of violence from Assyria to help Judah rebuild its identity under Josiah (seventh cent. B.C.) after centuries of foreign domination.87 The rhetoric warns Josiah’s subjects that his government would suppress anyone in the kingdom that resisted his control.

At first glance, Rowlett’s thesis takes some of the sting out of Joshua’s violence by reducing it to mere rhetoric. But, ultimately, her proposal offers no satisfactory relief. If her thesis holds, the book still threatens real violence, albeit against opponents rather than Canaanites. Further, the alleged ties between Joshua and Josiah are by no means certain. Were royal ideology driving the book, one would expect many more connections with later kings than it has.88 In short, while suggestive, Rowlett’s view does not fully satisfy.

The quite different approach of Knierim starts by comparing the treatment of other nations in Joshua with their treatment elsewhere in the Old Testament.89 He notes how other texts speak of Yahweh as righteous, the merciful ruler of all peoples (Ps. 96; Jonah), a defender of the weak of all nations (Ps. 82), a God whom the nations seek and, thereby, abandon war (Isa. 2:1–4). That view of God, Knierim claims, would drive those biblical voices to grant the Canaanites continued life and dignity. The war and land policy of Joshua are, thus, theologically out of step with the God of the wider Old Testament.90 Knierim asks readers to set them aside in favor of the Old Testament’s majority view.

In a sense, this intriguing, bold proposal compares to what many readers do anyway—ignore the book of Joshua as irrelevant. Knierim’s advocacy of Canaanite dignity also appeals to a modern sense of human rights, and one cannot fault his reading of Joshua within its larger Old Testament context. But why give the other texts greater weight on the issue of violence than Joshua? Is there no way to retain all Old Testament voices in the discussion?91

In my view, Knierim’s hermeneutical approach is correct, but I would nuance his conclusion slightly. Knierim rules Joshua out of bounds theologically because it departs from the consensus of the larger Old Testament. But I would argue from that consensus that Joshua’s war and land policy be understood as time-specific and limited. It applies only to the conquest and settlement periods and, hence, cannot be used as a precedent elsewhere. This does not settle the theological question of God’s morality, but it does explain Joshua’s policy as rooted in a specific context and serving a narrow intention.

Stone offers a completely different approach from those of Rowlett and Knierim.92 He argues that texts within Joshua itself reflect discomfort with the idea of holy war and the annihilation of the Canaanites among those who edited the book. They amount to a subtle downplaying of the martial and territorial motifs of Yahweh war. For example, the book starkly contrasts the acceptance of Yahweh’s plan for Canaan by Rahab and the Gibeonites (2:9–11; 9–10) with resistance to it by Canaanite kings (5:1; 9:1–2; 10:1–5; 11:1–5). The contrast, Stone says, intends to make the case that the Canaanites perished for resisting Yahweh, not for religious decadence or economic oppression of peasants. Thus, the book’s message promotes responsiveness to Yahweh’s actions and warns against resistance to them.93

Indeed, Stone argues, the book’s reshaping within the DH introduces the law as the object of Israel’s acceptance or resistance.94 Thus, in its present form Joshua’s main message is that holy war (Stone’s term) is ultimately more about “uncompromising obedience to Yahweh’s law” than about “territory or warfare.”95 In sum, Stone’s view offers not only a way around our horror of the conquest but a persuasive articulation of the original meaning of Joshua.

I find myself in agreement with Stone’s observations concerning Rahab and the Gibeonites. His thesis that the book links the Canaanites’ fate to their rejection of Yahweh’s actions is certainly correct. Elsewhere, I have argued from a reading of Joshua 7–10 that the book actually affirms divine acceptance of foreigners like Rahab and the Gibeonites within Israel.96 Amid the catastrophe around them, they alone receive compassion—indeed, salvation. Their very survival strongly implies that Yahweh permits exceptions to the mandate of Deuteronomy 20 to those who acknowledge Yahweh’s greatness.

Thus, rather than promote violence as the standard Israelite treatment of foreigners who reside within Israel, Joshua teaches two things: (1) Those who honor Yahweh’s greatness and do not teach Israel idolatry may remain in the land, and (2) rigorous obedience to the law is Yahweh’s supreme expectation for all peoples in the land. The cases of Rahab and the Gibeonites exemplify the first teaching, the book’s repeated references to the law and to Moses spotlight the second.97 Thus, Joshua’s openness to non-Israelites parallels the inclusive themes of Knierim’s texts and anticipates the New Testament’s emphasis on the international ethnic inclusivity of the gospel (e.g., Acts 1:8; Rev. 5:9; 14:6).98 More important, I would argue that the book of Joshua reflects two aspects of God’s nature, his righteous anger against opponents and his mercy and compassion toward those who turn to him. In my view, Christians come to experience both aspects of God’s character through their relationship with Jesus Christ.

Jericho and archaeology. A second troubling matter besides the practice of ḥerem concerns the archaeology of Jericho (or Tell es-Sultan). A century of excavations has unveiled the history of Jericho’s occupations in great detail.99 Though small in area (about ten acres), the town is among the world’s oldest (founded ca. 8000 B.C.), a fact easily explained by its location near an important Jordan crossing, its warm climate, and the spring that supplies its water. In the mid-1930s, J. Garstang excavated Jericho, dating the ruins of both a double city wall atop the mound and a residential area on its southeast slope (“City IV”) to 1400 B.C.100 He credited their destruction to the Israelites under Joshua.

But excavations two decades later led Kathleen Kenyon to revise the date of Garstang’s double wall upward to ca. 2400 B.C. and City IV’s destruction to ca. 1550 B.C.101 Spectacular evidence from its nearby tombs attests the town’s great prosperity during the early Middle Bronze Age (ca. 2000 B.C.), but the mound itself shows only a few traces of that heyday. A violent conflagration (ca. 1550 B.C.) left the town a barren, uninhabited ruins for two centuries, and erosion washed away all but a few traces of the Late Bronze occupation (fourteenth-thirteenth cent. B.C.).102

The question is, Was Jericho inhabited during the next four centuries (thirteenth to ninth cent. B.C.) until its rebuilding during Ahab’s reign by Hiel (1 Kings 16:34)? The current scholarly consensus follows the conclusion of Kenyon: Except for a small, short-lived settlement (ca. 1400 B.C.), Jericho was completely uninhabited ca. 1550–1100 B.C. In other words, notwithstanding Joshua 6, there was no fortified city of Jericho for Joshua and Israel to conquer.103 This is true whether one opts for an “early” (fifteenth cent.) or “late” (thirteenth cent.) date for Israel’s arrival in Canaan.

The absence of a “fortified city,” however, may not necessarily mean that Jericho was completely uninhabited in the Late Bronze Age. As noted above, most Late Bronze Age towns were small and unwalled, and there is in fact evidence of such a settlement at Jericho (fourteenth cent. B.C.).104 The “wall” of Joshua 2 and 6 might be (or, at least, somehow relate to) the contiguous outer walls of houses that together formed a protective circle around the city. If so, this evidence would tend to favor a “late” date for Jericho’s fall.

Along a different line, however, B. G. Wood has recently argued that the archaeological reports of both Garstang and Kenyon reflect evidence for a Joshua-era Jericho.105 On that basis, he reaffirms Garstang’s original dating of City IV and its walls to ca. 1400 B.C., thus lending support to an “early date” for Jericho’s destruction. Further, he finds evidence in the reports that remarkably parallels the biblical account. For example, Kenyon suggested that a heap of red mudbricks found at the base of the revetment wall below City IV originally came from the city’s collapsed parapet wall. (They had tumbled down the slopes.) The combination of fallen bricks and timbers and evidence of a violent conflagration also suggested to Kenyon that the eastern walls collapsed before the fire scorched them. That scenario certainly compares to the biblical report that the walls fell before Israel burned the city (Josh. 6:20, 24).106

Wood’s reading of the archaeological evidence is still subject to dispute.107 His dating of Jericho’s destruction to the Late Bronze Age depends heavily on carbon—14 dating of remains from Jericho’s burn layer. But a subsequent study applied high-precision radiocarbon dating to eighteen samples of carbon and six charred cereal grains from that same source and twelve other carbon samples. The results confirmed Kenyon’s original dating (ca. 1550 B.C.) rather than that of Wood (ca. 1400 B.C.).108 By implication, they also undermine the force of Wood’s observation that the city’s archaeological data favorably compares to the biblical data.

But even if Wood’s thesis survives this finding, it would not prove the claims of Joshua 6. To show that City IV suffered terrible destruction does not verify that Israel was responsible for it, but it does leave the possibility open. In short, though often cited with appreciation, Wood’s thesis that Jericho was inhabited ca. 1400 B.C. is in doubt. But suppose one prefers (as do many scholars) a “late date” for the conquest? Kitchen is among them and offers an alternate theory. He deems it highly likely that erosion has washed away the remains of Late Bronze Age Jericho—the Jericho usually linked with Joshua. In his view, those ruins now lie under the modern road and farmland along the site’s eastern side.109 Kitchen concludes:

There may well have been a Jericho during 1275–1220, but above the tiny remains of that of 1400–1275, so to speak, and all of this has long, long since gone. We will never find “Joshua’s Jericho” for that very simple reason.110

In short, the archaeological evidence bears four interpretations, depending on one’s view of Jericho’s layout at the time as well as whether one prefers an “early” or “late” date for the Joshua era. The lack of evidence for the former means either that Jericho was uninhabited at the time (Kenyon) or that erosion has removed it (Kitchen). But if the evidence Wood offers holds, the early date would remain a possibility. Finally, if one assumes that LBA Jericho (fourteenth cent. B.C.) was a small, unwalled city, a destruction date in the 1300s B.C.—a “later,” if not a “late,” date—becomes a possibility. A decision between the options will depend on the persuasion of evidence and arguments beyond the scope of this commentary.111

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

THE CONTEMPORARY MEANING OF Joshua 5–6 centers on four important themes: the wilderness experience, the problem of fitness before God, the end of Israel’s shame, and the reality of the Jesus war that engages us (on Jesus war, see below).

The past: the wilderness backdrop. Above, I indicated that the two scenes at Gilgal (circumcision and Passover) symbolize Israel’s historic transition from the wilderness to the Promised Land. The participants are all people who, having endured and survived desert life, now prepare to move forward. Joshua 5 reports the end of the wilderness period, but what had the Israelites now camped near the Jordan learned during that time? How were they different from their rebellious ancestors, and what can their experience teach us today? Deuteronomy 8:2–3 summarizes God’s perspective on the purposes of their wilderness experiences:

Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. (Deut. 8:2–3)

What God wanted—and what the wilderness was to produce—was a spiritually healthy, fit Israel. The first thing they had learned in the desert was humility (to “humble you”). They had learned to depend totally on God rather than on themselves. Indeed, the only reason they are now safely in Canaan at all is because they have depended completely on God.

The wilderness of Sinai is a barren, hostile desert without the requisite rainfall to cause crops to grow. No human effort can transform it into a lush garden spot. Underground water from wells at oases is available in sufficient quantity to keep humans and animals from dying of thirst. They must, of course, reach an oasis to access it. But those life-giving wells cannot support agriculture able to feed large groups like Israel. People starve to death in the wilderness unless they bring food with them or obtain it from passersby. In that hostile environment, Israel came to trust God to provide them with food and water to sustain them. God gave them water from rocks and manna from the sky. It is that trust that got them to the west bank of the Jordan. Thus, the group that drank from the Jordan rather than desert springs and ate food from Canaan rather than manna are more spiritually fit than they were before.

A brief glance back across the Jordan also gives us some good news from Israel’s experience. It teaches us that as we move forward, what we really need is more than just better technology or more creative ideas, as useful and necessary as they may be in their own way. What we really need is spiritual fitness—a firm trust in God himself to sustain us through what lies ahead just as he did Israel in the wilderness. Our God is one whose quiet, loving presence supports us through all the experiences through which he leads us, even wilderness ones. As he supplied wandering Israel with manna, so he provides for our basic needs, too. However difficult the days, he gently keeps us alive. Indeed, the entire experience aims to create in us a hunger for God himself—to learn to depend on him and to trust that in a pinch he will come through for us. God’s purpose is to cultivate in us the same spiritual health he did in Israel—a fitness for what comes next.

Second, God used the desert days to “test” Israel—to see what is “in [their] heart.” Here Moses has in mind the heart as the center of their will—the place where Israel makes choices. Time and again, the Israelites faced the choice of whether or not to obey God’s Instruction. The long journey to Canaan taught Israel much about how double-minded their hearts were—devoted to Yahweh one day, in rebellion the next. The group camped along the Jordan had not fully purged themselves of sin, and they needed circumcision and the Passover observance to further round out their fitness for Canaan and its battles. But enroute to those moments they had learned how fickle and easily-swayed their heart was. They had learned how central (or peripheral) God’s will was to their life-choices.

A brief look back across the Jordan from Gilgal will teach us similarly to take stock of what really is in our own heart. The fact is that, like Israel, we are often prone to fickleness and subject to bad influences, especially when things are going well for us. Sometimes, like Israel, we may rebel outright against God’s wishes, at other times the list of “what’s important” in our hearts may differ radically from God’s. Too often we are like kids who, if left on their own, easily do what they want rather than what their parents do. We easily give in to our own hungers for status, wealth, approval, freedom, or fulfillment. Those are the things that grip our heart. But Israel learned in the wilderness—and teaches us today—what is truly of value and what our heart really wants. The Israelites soon bound for Jericho knew the difference between their own hungers (“bread alone”) and a focused hunger on what God wanted (“every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD”). Their experience points us in the right direction—to make obedience to God’s Word our number one priority.

In short, God used the wilderness period to sift and sort Israel, and the band that survived it learned much. Like them, our task is also to respond willingly to the experiences through which God leads us—to enhance and maintain our spiritual fitness. We must persereve, tightly clutching his guiding hand as we navigate our way enroute to the battles ahead. In Joshua 5, Israel tooks steps to get spiritually fit for those battles, and so should we.

The problem of fitness. What is spiritual fitness, and how can we can improve ours? Many readers may associate the idea of “fitness” with the grueling physical training in the military that readies troops for the rigors of combat. Since the late twentieth century, however, physical fitness has become a cultural priority in the general population. Today a growing industry of fitness centers offers ordinary people places to strengthen their cardiovascular system, lose weight, and improve their self-esteem. There is a large, heavily utilized fitness center connected with the hospital near my home, and I have seen such centers in shopping malls and in downtown buildings. Corporations and businesses also provide access to fitness facilities for their employees since good physical conditioning improves their attitude and productivity. For some people their neighborhood is their gym. They exercise by walking several miles from their home and back, often with like-minded friends.

As we saw above, Israel had to acquire a different kind of fitness—ritual fitness—to live in Canaan. That is why at their camp at Gilgal they circumcised all Israelite males and celebrated the Passover (5:2–12). It judged them fit on Yahweh’s scale of holiness to participate in Yahweh’s war and to reside there as his people after the Conquest. Israel’s example challenges Christians today to pursue a similar self-assessment and self-improvement—their spiritual fitness for Jesus’ war and kingdom life.

What is Christian spiritual fitness? A comparison of the latter with physical fitness helps illumine the idea. A program of regular exercise seeks to improve an individual’s physical and emotional health. Weight loss is a key contributor to both, since shedding extra flab decreases the strain on the heart and reduces cholesterol. Those who lose weight also feel good about themselves, especially when other people notice the change. Further, regular exercise also significantly reduces stress, a silent, sinister strain on the body that may cause headaches and even heart attacks. Stress reduction noticeably brightens the exercisers’ outlook on life and increases their energy level. The ultimate goal of physical activity, however, is to strengthen the heart muscle and stave off serious diseases.

Similarly, spiritual fitness aims to strengthen the hearts of believers—their heart for God and for doing his will. It also seeks to rid them of spiritual flab that they sometimes drag around as part of their identity. By this I mean the bad habits, little slaveries, gloomy outlooks, divided loyalties, and cynicism that sap our energy. Left unattended, they engender doubts, feed our fears, and rob us of focus. To shed them, however, frees that sapped energy to energize our lives with Christ. Spiritual fitness substitutes energy (or “passion”) for lethargic spiritual laziness. Above all, it strengthens our heart—our resolve to live for Jesus as faithfully as we can. It replaces the Bread Alone Diet with the more nourishing Word Alone Diet.

What exercises maintain one’s spiritual fitness? In my view, a regular regime of five basic activities promotes good spiritual health. The first two items offer healthy spiritual nutrition. (1) Of first importance is weekly worship with a local Christian congregation. Hebrews 10:25 urges us not to neglect meeting together as believers to encourage each other in our growth in fitness. Amazingly, Jesus promises to join us whenever we do so (Matt. 18:20)! More important, as our Creator, Savior, and heavenly Father, God simply deserves our honor and praise, and public worship is an important way to do that. Corporate worship benefits us in two specific ways: It gives us a break from everything else so we can focus on God, and it gives us extended contact with his very presence.

(2) A second basic nutritional exercise is to practice a love for the Bible as God’s Word. Regular Bible reading hits the pause button on our often frenetic preoccupation with “bread alone” so we can nurture our souls with God’s words. Typically, we get to know people through conversation over time, and those conversations also teach us things about ourselves. A pattern of Scripture reading opens an ongoing conversation with God. It allows him to speak to us personally so we get to know him better—and to know ourselves better, too. Some believers set aside devotional times to read the Word, while others prefer listening to Bible readings from CDs en route somewhere. Whatever one’s method, consider it a supplement to our daily diet of news; the latter keeps us abreast of what is going on, God’s Word tells us what he thinks about it all. Time with Scripture also reminds us that he is right in the thick of all those other things.

I also recommend three strengthening exercises to supplement the nutritional ones. (3) Some form of ongoing service for Christ, preferably outside the church, is a necessary practice. We may start by praying for God to guide us to find an activity in which we may put our faith in action and visibly live out the love of Christ. In my view, priority should go to service done for people outside the church, particularly those who do not yet confess Christ as savior. For example, consider some way to bring justice to people whom your city or town tends to ignore if not disadvantage. In any case, the point is to do something that we enjoy or that stretches us. “Stretching” is always a good spiritual practice!

(4) Participation in a small accountability group is good for our spiritual health. The Christian life is, after all, a team sport, and small groups are essential to any spiritual fitness program. Such groups pick us up when we fall, applaud us when we succeed, and challenge us when we need a swift kick. Consider it like going to the gym, spiritually speaking.

(5) Regular offerings to support God’s work financially are also an important spiritual exercise. The outside world may rag on Christian organizations for being “all in it for the money,” but we know better. We know that God expects us to invest a portion of the resources that he gives us in his ongoing work.112 Jesus teaches us to put our money in a safe, secure place—where rust cannot corrode it or thieves steal it (Matt. 6:19–20). It is in good hands with God for God will make it “grow” hugely through what he is doing in the world.

(6) Finally, an occasional Spiritual Fitness Test, an honest look in the mirror at how we are doing (perhaps in a group), is always a good idea.

The end of shame. One special highpoint, God’s removal of Israel’s shame (5:9), also has something to say to us. In Israel’s case, the shame in view is Egypt’s ridicule of them for (in Egypt’s view) stupidly following Yahweh, given his burial of a whole generation in the desert. What a relief to have Yahweh remove the humiliation wrongly heaped on them and to receive divine vindication for their faithfulness.

That humiliation by others is not unlike what Christians sometimes experience today. As I read the popular press, I pick up vibes that reflect a mood critical of Christians. Two recently dominant values probably drive this spirit: an increasingly secular worldview and religious pluralism as the cultural norm. Secularism excludes God from having a voice in anything and, by implication, looks down on anyone who claims that God already runs everything. The humiliating message its devotees send Christians is, “Oh, don’t tell me you still believe in that old stuff?” Pluralism embraces all religions as good and ridicules anyone who asserts Christianity’s unique claims about Jesus. Pluralism’s followers tell Christians, “Shame on you! What arrogance to think that your religion is better than any other!” Indeed, my “gut feel” is that they perceive such claims to be insulting and a threat to the culture.

Some readers may have personally experienced touches of disdain from coworkers, neighbors, friends, and family. To my knowledge, no North American has gone to jail for holding on to faith in Jesus, but people do occasionally look down on us for our beliefs. Recent political activism by some highly visible evangelicals has probably made things worse for us.113 Suddenly, evangelicals are on everyone’s radar screen plugging their favorite hot-button issues in the political arena. Alas, the high profile creates the impression that we are out to force our beliefs on everyone else by political means.

Of course, popular hostility to followers of Jesus is nothing new. Jesus himself warned us to expect it: “Everyone will hate you because of me, but those who stand firm to the end will be saved” (Matt. 10:22 TNIV; cf. vv. 16–25). Emotionally, the rejection by the culture, and particularly people we know personally, is difficult to take. A section in Malcolm Gladwell’s recent bestseller, Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking, captures the pain well. Gladwell briefly reports one fascinating result of research on marriage by Professor John Gottman of the University of Washington.114

Over many years, Gottman has analyzed videotaped conversations between marriage partners about some ordinary topic. From his studies, Gottman claims that he can predict whether a marriage is in trouble merely by hearing a brief snippet of a couple’s conversation (what Gladwell calls a “thin-slice”). For Gottman, the key signs of serious marital trouble are four negative emotions—defensiveness, stonewalling, criticism, and contempt—and of these Gottman believes contempt to be the most important indicator. (By “contempt,” he means insulting comments in which one partner from a stance of superiority puts down the other). Gottman has found that if contempt infects a marriage, he can actually predict how many colds the husband and wife may suffer. In other words, the stress of receiving contempt from someone one loves is so great that it even takes its toll on the recipient’s immune system. Says Gottman, “Contempt is closely related to disgust, and what disgust and contempt are about is completely rejecting and excluding someone from the community.”115 All this is to say that the experience of contempt and its impact on one’s emotional side are things to be taken seriously.

Here again the gospel gives us good news that God also removes our moments of humiliation. Jesus reminds us that he himself calls us not “servants” but “friends” (John 15:15). Knowing that I am one of Jesus’ friends eases the traces of shame left by our culture’s rejection. So does remembering God’s declaration concerning me: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). In Christ, I have nothing to be ashamed of for following Jesus. On the contrary, I look forward to the vindication of my faith that Paul anticipates when he writes about every knee bowing and every tongue confessing that Jesus is LORD (Phil. 2:10–11; cf. Rom. 14:11). As a forgiven sinner, of course, I have no reason to gloat, but every reason to feel satisfaction. The satisfaction derives not from the fact that those who rejected Jesus “finally get theirs,” but from the smiling approval of my Lord Jesus, for the fact that I hung in there with him.

A dose of reality: the Jesus War. The final theme about which Joshua 5–6 speaks to us concerns the unpleasant fact that we are not at peace but at war, the Jesus War. The contempt discussed above marks the iceberg tip of a harsh reality: The enemies of the gospel comprise a vast, truly cruel and truly tyrannical foe with vast strength (see Eph. 6:12). They are spiritual powers that cruelly enslave human beings and which, if unconquered, doom their captives to terrible eternal punishment.

These powers underlie every international war, rotting jail, violent crime, terrible torture, smutty movie, drug addiction, broken marriage, tragic suicide, and arrogant bureaucrat. They thwart our attempts to share the gospel, to reconcile fractured families, to better our neighborhoods, to serve the poor, and to win justice for the oppressed. Internationally, they imprison and oppress our sisters and brothers in contexts where real, live war rages. In short, with Joshua, we share the theological assumption that there is a war on and that God fights for his people.116 The Jesus War actually continues the Yahweh war of the Old Testament.117 Warrior Jesus exercises the same power on our behalf today as Warrior Yahweh did for Israel at Jericho. It is both a spiritual and political one, demanding that its troops engage God’s enemies in both arenas.118

Now, a “decisive battle” is the central turning point in any war, the single event that turns the tide of victory in favor of one side, however many battles still remain to be fought. In early June, 1942, the U.S. won such a decisive battle against Japan at the Battle of Midway.119 Having crippled the U.S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, the Japanese navy hoped to lure American carriers to defeat by attacking U.S. forces on Midway Island. Instead, decoded secret messages and a little good luck enabled U.S. planes to surprise and sink four Japanese carriers, a defeat that crippled the Japanese navy for the rest of the war.

This history illustrates one important thing about the Jesus War: Jesus Christ has already won its decisive battles. To us, the tide of war often seems turned against us, but his victories have in reality decisively turned it in our favor.120 To paraphrase Joshua, Jesus has already “given the enemy into our hands” (cf. 6:2; 8:1; 10:8). The healing of the Gerasene demoniac marks one such victory (Luke 8:27–36). This man’s tormenters were so despotic that he lived pathetically alone among ritually unclean tombs. They were, in fact, a demon horde by the name of “Legion,” the Roman term for a fearful military unit.121 Jesus banished the spiritual legion to nearby pigs, a conquest akin to those of Yahweh’s war against Israel’s human enemies. He proved them to be powerless before his wondrous power.

The cross and the resurrection mark Jesus’ most decisive victory—in Eller’s words, “The Victory of Skull Hill.”122 At Calvary and the empty tomb God through Christ decisively defeated humanity’s bitterest enemies, sin and death. In Colossians 2:15, Paul imagines three invisible events happening on Skull Hill when Jesus died.123 God, first, disarms the “powers and authorities,” stripping off their might like an old, frayed, useless garment.124 Then he “made [them] a public spectacle” (deigmatizo, “to expose to public shame, disgrace”). He imagines the once-powerful authorities slowly trudging, naked and downcast, past the crowds in disgrace (cf. Matt. 1:19).125 What irony! At the time, Jesus’ disciples mourned a terrible loss, but in retrospect it marked the stunning, humiliating defeat of all evil powers. Finally, Paul imagines God “triumphing over them” (thriambeuo, “to celebrate a triumph” or “to lead in triumph”). This phrase pictures a general leading his victorious army and its vanquished foes in public celebration after a battle (cf. 2 Cor. 2:14; Eph. 4:8). It recalls the happy, relieved celebrations after the conclusion of World War II or the more recent Gulf War of the early 1990s.

The point of Paul’s imaginary scenario is this: At the time, Jesus’ death and resurrection seemed a colossal setback for God’s salvific plan, but in retrospect it emerges as the decisive defeat of his enemies. It defeated, dethroned, and disarmed the Prince of Darkness, a great victory that has paved the way for humans to receive salvation.

What are the implications of Paul’s images for us? (1) It means that we are not responsible for winning the final victory for God—Christ has already won that. Our responsibility is simply to carry out our duties as faithful soldiers of the cross.

(2) It means that our spiritual enemies—Satan and all his hosts—need no longer paralyze us with fear. Though to be taken seriously, Satan today is an enemy already defeated and disarmed by the Warrior Jesus. We need not cower in fear before him. We dishonor Christ—and deny the reality of his great victory at Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb—when we treat the devil as a spiritual boogeyman who haunts our every step. In trying not to underestimate the threat that he and his army pose, we sometimes overestimate their power. We need to remember just how defeated and powerless they are. Imagine them as dazed, humiliated soldiers firmly under the authority of Jesus and sing with Martin Luther in his “A Mighty Fortress”:

The Prince of Darkness grim? We tremble not for him!

His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure.

One little word shall fell him!

(3) Finally, Christ’s victory reminds us of just how great is the power working in us. At Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb, God displayed firepower so overwhelming that it released all creation from the grip of sin and death. And that same power undergirds our faithful service as spiritual soldiers. Thus, we should fight our battles with the same confidence that Israel had in marching around Jericho. Our enemy is already on the run, so our task is, like Israel at Jericho, to enter enemy territory, follow up, and consolidate Jesus’ victory there. I once met a man who used to greet people by saying “Praise God, the devil’s on the run!” The greeting often took its recipients by surprise, but it also aimed to encourage them. Christians may take Satan’s power seriously but need not live in terror of him. He is “on the run,” fleeing in retreat, still reeling from his thrashing at Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb.

The year 1971 found me far from home in the hot, humid Mekong Delta of Vietnam. I was a “circuit-riding preacher,” a Navy chaplain assigned to pastor personnel on small bases and repair ships along the delta’s rivers and criss-crossing canals. My travels took me one day to visit a new base at Cho Moi. Militarily, the area was fairly safe, so a group of us took an afternoon stroll from the base to the village nearby. After passing various shops, we entered the local Catholic church where mass was being said in Vietnamese. The language barrier led me to quietly worship on my own. Frankly, a few months in country had left me discouraged. The ministry seemed to be difficult, and my efforts seemed to yield few results. A few times no one showed up for church! I had begun to wonder why God had sent me there—and why instead I could not be home with my lovely young wife of one year.

As I prayed, suddenly the Lord brought Jesus’ reassuring words to mind: “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). A small dawn of hope opened in my weary soul. It reminded me of Christ’s commitment to “build my church,” a church that hell itself could not defeat. I went on with my duties encouraged that God was building it through me, however imperceptible the signs of progress. I soldiered on, confident that God’s efforts through me were unstoppable.

And so should we. Indeed, remembrance of Jesus’ wonderful victories reassures us that we are on the winning side, however difficult the Jerichos we face may seem. Our confidence and persistence derive from the fundamental biblical fact that Jesus has won the decisive battle. Jesus has triumphed; our enemy has been stripped of his weapons and publicly humiliated. People may erect walls to keep Jesus out, but no walls can withstand his overwhelming power. So, daily we enter the field of battle, wherever God sends us, knowing that his powerful presence surrounds our every step. We plod on humbly and patiently, knowing that God already has the enemy on the run. He is, in fact, quietly and gently wooing many of them to surrender willingly to his loving lordship.

Original Meaning

The Ritual Siege of Jericho (5:13–6:27)

The Mysterious Stranger (5:13–6:1)

THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER (5:13–6:1). A brief scene involving a mysterious stranger shifts attention from preparation to conquest.30 As preface to the conquest of Jericho, the scene signals the transition from Israel’s arrival in Canaan to its movement inland. But from the outset, the scene has an eerie, otherworldly feel to it. We are told neither what Joshua is doing there, nor how this episode relates chronologically to its context. We do not even know whether it is day or night.31 Somewhere “near Jericho,” Joshua spots a man standing across from him holding his sword unsheathed (v. 13).32 The sword tells Joshua that the man is a soldier ready for combat, but the reader wonders how he can take a savvy Joshua by surprise. Has he suddenly appeared “out of thin air”?

Interestingly, the phrase “drawn sword” elsewhere occurs only with “the angel of the LORD” (Num. 22:23; 1 Chron. 21:16) and, thus, creates the expectation in readers (but in not Joshua) that the “man” is in fact a divine messenger in human form. It is almost comic to watch Joshua, oblivious to the other party’s true identity, commandingly confront and interrogate him. Two other surprises await Joshua later, the first no laughing matter (7:1–6), the second yielding unexpectedly good results for Israel (chs. 9–10).

Joshua’s question (“Are you for us or for our enemies?”) seeks the man’s military affiliation. He answers “Neither” (v. 14), then identifies himself as the “captain of the army of the LORD,” a title that occurs only here and in v. 15.33 The title “army commander” usually designates a man who leads the army of a king, someone famous enough to be remembered by name.34 But the Old Testament also understands that Yahweh has a heavenly army (his “hosts,” hence his title “LORD of hosts,” NRSV; 1 Kings 22:19; Ps. 103:19–21), that Israel, too, is his “army” (Ex. 7:4; 12:41; 1 Sam. 17:45), and that Yahweh leads both as king.35

The visitor’s answer underscores what is important, his identity as God’s on-site commander, not his loyalties to either Israel or Canaan. Once the stranger’s words hit home, Joshua falls face down on the ground and worships him (v. 14b; see below), a gesture of high respect that an inferior pays a superior (i.e., Ruth 2:10; 2 Sam. 9:6; 14:22; 2 Chron. 20:18). Joshua acts out his recognition that the “army” is God’s almighty, invisible host and the stranger is an angelic figure in human form (see also Gen. 18; Judg. 13). Joshua no longer needs to ascertain the man’s loyalty—the man is clearly a “friend” come to support Israel.

But Joshua knows that Yahweh only dispatches such a commander for a high purpose, so he asks (lit.), “What is my Lord commanding his servant to do?” (v. 14c). “My Lord” and “his “servant” show Joshua’s submission to the stranger’s authority; Joshua requests marching orders for battle. Yahweh has already commissioned Joshua to lead Israel into the land (Josh. 1), so the present question seeks specific direction from his superior for the immediate moment.

Surprisingly, the commander orders, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy” (v. 15a). The command virtually quotes Yahweh’s familiar orders to Moses at the burning bush (Ex. 3:5). Literarily, the echoed wording links the two scenes, reconfirming Joshua as Moses’ successor and—more important—forever marking this episode as Joshua’s “burning bush experience.”36 Moreover, it creates the huge expectation of an imminent theophany, perhaps one comparable to Yahweh’s descent on Mount Sinai (Ex. 19).37

“Holy [ground]” is a sure sign that Yahweh is present and about to speak (cf. Ex. 3:2–4:17; 6:2–5), since his holy presence is the only thing able to sanctify space. It remains to be seen whether this place as “holy” also defines the status of Jericho in God’s eyes. Surrounded by holiness, Joshua wisely removes his sandals in adoration and awaits the divine voice (v. 15b). Instead, the writer interposes a short parenthesis to inform us that Israel’s threatening presence has caused the city to shut its gates tight, barring both entry and exit (6:1).38

This is no throw-away line. Chapter 5 lays out Israel’s transition to the land and preparations for doing Yahweh’s war. It ends with the surprising, climactic arrival on scene of Yahweh and his invisible army. Jericho senses the severe threat, seals itself off, and trusts its fate to its walled defenses. So, an ancient combat scene once again repeats itself—an invading army poised at the gates and a city sealed for a siege. In Boling’s words, “All is at last in readiness for the warfare.”39

The Ritual Siege of Jericho (6:2–25)

The ritual siege of Jericho (6:2–25). The central scene, the ritual siege of Jericho proper (6:2–25), now follows, and, as expected, the supreme commander speaks (vv. 2–5). He reassures Joshua with the assurance-of-victory formula (“I have delivered Jericho into your hands,” v. 2).40 Grammatically, the formula paints Jericho’s “fall” as an already “done deal,” and it echoes Yahweh’s earlier promise to Joshua to be with him and never leave him (1:2–5).41 Jericho’s demise is Yahweh’s gift to them, not Israel’s own military achievement. Fittingly, those destined for Israel’s hands include both Jericho’s king and soldiers, both of whom earlier sought to capture the two spies (Josh. 2:2, 3, 7, 22).42 This time the tables are turned: Those who attempted that capture will soon suffer capture themselves.

God’s instructions (vv. 3–5) sketch a general overview with few details. Israelite soldiers are specifically to “encircle” (not merely “march around”) the city once each day for six days (v. 3)—a six-day, symbolic siege of Jericho.43 For six days seven priests are each to carry a ram’s horn trumpet ahead of the ark of the covenant (v. 4a). Their small numbers cannot “encircle” the city, so presumably their task each day is to march around the city already “besieged” by the prepositioned soldiers. In effect, the circuits of the ark enclose Jericho in a deadly ring of Yahweh’s power and doom it to fall before that power.44 The seventh day marks the ceremony’s climax. On that day, with the troops in place, the trumpet-bearing priests are to march around the city seven times, blowing steadily on their instruments (v. 4b–5). After the last circuit, they are to sound a long blast, the signal for the people to raise a mighty shout (v. 5a).

Interestingly, the instruction details the movements of the soldiers and priests but not of the people. But since they are each to attack the city straight ahead, they presumably either trail the ark on its daily circuits or (more likely, in my view) participate with the soldiers in the symbolic siege. Elsewhere similar shouts issue a war cry that signals the beginning of battle (1 Sam. 4:5). That sense fits here, too: Their shout announces the attack—the tumbling of the massive wall of Jericho and the Israelite onslaught inside the city (v. 5b). The wall is literally to “fall under itself”—to collapse right where it stands—opening easy access inside Jericho. The connection between the people’s cry and the fall of Jericho seems fitting in two respects. It represents the people’s participation, however limited, in Yahweh’s war; the victory is their victory, too. It also symbolizes that the land—here personified by the city of Jericho—will, indeed, become theirs.

Immediately, Joshua issues an order to execute Yahweh’s battle plan (vv. 6–7). Seven priests, each with a ram’s horn, are to lead the priests carrying the ark of the covenant (v. 6; cf. v. 4). Joshua also commands the people, “Move out! Surround the city” (v. 7, my translation).45 Strikingly, the first command invokes ʿabar (“to cross over”), the dominant verb in the Jordan crossing narrative, with the relatively rare sense “to proceed” (see Gen. 18:5; Num. 22:26; Judg. 12:1). Its repetition here marks the advance on Jericho as a continuation of the inexorable forward momentum unleashed at the riverside.46 “Surround the city” repeats the instruction given the soldiers (v. 3); the people, too, are symbolically to besiege the city. Later, a retrospective comment will note that Joshua also orders them to remain totally silent until told to shout (v. 10).

For now, Joshua adds a further detail: an armed vanguard and “rear guard” are, respectively, to precede and follow the ark in its daily circuits of the city (vv. 7b, 9b). Again, ʿabar (“move out”) links the vanguard’s action to the narrative forward momentum begun at the Jordan. But here the Jericho narrative departs slightly from the earlier narrative. In the latter, the ark preceded the people into the Jordan without human protection (3:14–17), but here human soldiers precede the ark around Jericho. Since the ark needs no human defense, this gesture must be symbolic. In my view, the vanguard, rear guard, and ark together personify that Israel as a whole is engaging in Yahweh’s war.

Jericho: Day One (vv. 8–11)

Jericho: Day One (vv. 8–11). Now the action starts, with Israel dramatically obeying the commands of Yahweh and Joshua.47 Participles portray the movement of the ark, its priests and armed escorts as ongoing (vv. 8–9), as if the reader were actually watching the scene. Word repetition keeps the priestly trumpets blaring raucously, a perpetual reminder of Yahweh’s presence and readiness for battle.48 But, on Joshua’s orders, the people keep silent as stones; no traditional war whoops for them today (v. 10).49 Why the silence? Probably, Joshua wants to preserve the sober, sacred solemnity of the ceremony. This is no festive family outing, no leisurely outdoor stroll, no boastful taunting of Jericho’s barricaded residents. It is solemn Yahweh war—a ceremonial siege soon to yield his enemy’s defeat. Eventually, Israel will enjoy their joyous victory shout, but only on the day Joshua orders it (v. 10b).

The combination of blowing ram’s horns and dead silence may also aim to strike terror in the hearts of the Canaanites watching the scene (cf. 1 Sam. 4:8–10). And so, Jericho Conquest-Day One ends. Strikingly, the closing summary (v. 11) features the star of the drama, the ark—specifically, that Joshua has it circle the city once that day. It then reports that all other participants return to camp for the night.50 The ark’s symbolic circuit of Jericho may anticipate its later, final victory lap. Granted, the human actors—soldiers, priestly trumpeters and ark-bearers, vanguard and rear guard, ordinary people—play important roles. But ultimately, that wooden box, symbol of Yahweh’s powerful presence, commands center stage and identifies him as Jericho’s true attacker.

Jericho: Days Two to Seven (vv. 12–25)

Jericho: Days Two to Seven (vv. 12–25). Day Two sees Joshua up early, no doubt to guarantee an early resumption of the ritual, and the priests again carry the ark (v. 12). Virtually repeating vv. 8–9, v. 13 again parades the seven priests blowing the seven trumpets ahead of the ark. The word repetition confirms that Day Two conforms to procedures standardized for Day One—that Israel continues to obey Yahweh and Joshua. Interestingly, here the focus falls on the seven priestly trumpeters, their ongoing sounds, and the ark’s front and rear guard details (v. 14a). All other participants—the soldiers (v. 2), the people (vv. 7a, 10), even Joshua himself—remain off stage.

Granted, the context certainly presumes their participation. But, as on Day One, it is the ark’s trumpeting priestly heralds and armed guards that interest the narrator on Day Two. It is as if only the ark and its entourage march around Jericho that day—or, at least, the writer deems only them worthy of mention. As with Day One, however, “they” (all the participants) return to camp. Rather than report the remaining days’ rituals, the narrator simply reports that Israel repeated the exact same procedure on Days Three through Six (v. 14b). The prominence accorded the priests fits the chapter’s pattern and sounds an important theme: Israel participates ceremonially in this episode of Yahweh’s war, but it is Yahweh’s presence that is decisive in toppling Jericho.

Day Seven, indeed, marks the ceremonial climax of the entire week. The formal, formulaic opening of v. 15 (lit., “It happened on the seventh day …”) fixes the chronology and hints at the decisive moment to follow. Two new narrative tidbits imply camp-wide, eager excitement. The day begins not just “early” but at “daybreak,” and today the whole camp (“they”), not just Joshua, rises to greet it (cf. v. 12). Today, however, all Israel (“they”) takes center stage rather than the ark. The procedure is the same as Days One to Six, but today—and only today—they circle Jericho a climactic seven times as Yahweh has commanded (v. 15b; cf. v. 4).51

More important, a second formal formula (“[it happened] the seventh time around”) dramatically sets off the decisive, electric, long-awaited moment—the seventh and final walk round the city (v. 16). Per Yahweh’s instructions (v. 4), the priests sound the long-expected trumpet signal, but—against expectations (cf. v. 5)—the next voice is Joshua’s, not the people’s. He commands them, “Shout!”—but then issues his final instructions concerning the city’s fall (vv. 16–19). The surprising digression abruptly postpones the climactic war cry and the falling of the wall (v. 20). The literary effect is to heighten the scene’s suspense and to underscore the importance of his instructions.

In fact, this marks the first instruction in the book concerning the treatment of conquered Canaanites and the debut of the important concept of ḥerem (NIV “devoted things”).52 Essentially, Joshua reiterates the edict of Moses issued long ago concerning it (Deut. 7:1–7; 20:16–18). But, though narratively awkward, it is narratively necessary that the people clearly understand what Yahweh expects of them. The next chapter will show what happens when Israel disregards those expectations. According to Joshua, Jericho falls in a special category, “devoted to the LORD” (ḥerem), meaning that “it and everything in it belongs to Yahweh” (v. 17).53 Ḥerem is an intangible quality or state that attaches to a person or an object like the paired opposites holy/profane and clean/unclean (Lev. 27:21; Deut. 7:26; Josh. 7:12; 1 Sam. 15:21). The heart of ḥerem is Yahweh’s exclusive ownership, an ownership not subject to redemption. To violate that ownership—to keep, rather than devote, ḥerem—is tantamount to robbing Yahweh and seriously imperils the violator (Josh. 7:15; cf. Lev. 27:28–29; 1 Sam. 15:23, 26).

In a context of Yahweh’s war, ḥerem takes on a specific religious meaning. It requires the devotion to Yahweh of anything classed as ḥerem either through special custody provisions (e.g., Josh. 6:19) or through its total destruction.54 Destruction denies the distribution of conquered people and goods classed as ḥerem as plunder among the conquerors. Such destruction does not constitute a religious sacrifice to atone for some past offense or rebellion. Rather, it simply constitutes the way Yahweh requires Israel to implement his exclusive ownership. Thus, Joshua’s declaration of Jericho as ḥerem affirms that Yahweh owns it exclusively and seals the fate of everything in it.

Everyone, of course, except “Rahab the prostitute,” as Joshua quickly clarifies (v. 17b). She and her family receive a special exception because Rahab hid (ḥabaʾ ) the young Israelite “messengers” (not “spies”) when they reconnoitered Jericho (see ch. 2).55 Unlike the rest of Jericho, “all who are with her in her house shall be spared”—the key stipulation of the spies’ oath (2:18–20). The exception contains two striking elements. (1) The verb “hide” (ḥabaʾ ) echoes Rahab’s advice that the spies “hide themselves” (ḥabaʾ reflexive [ni.]) in the hills to elude their pursuers (2:16). The word choice might suggest that Joshua views her advice as a more noteworthy act than her hiding of them (ṭaman) on the roof (2:6; cf. 7:21). (2) Compared to the familial terms of 2:18, the more general phrase “all who are with her” may hold open the door of escape to people beyond Rahab’s family (cf. v. 25).

In any case, in Joshua’s view, the hiding justifies the sparing (lit., “shall live”) of Rahab and anyone found in her house. A kind of poetic justice is at work: As Rahab spared the lives of the spies, so Israel will spare those found with her. Otherwise, Joshua emphatically orders Israel to “keep away from” all material goods (ḥerem) in Jericho (v. 18, my rendering). To take ḥerem will make Israel itself ḥerem and “bring trouble” on the whole camp (v. 18b).56 Literarily, ʿakar (“to bring trouble”) thematically foreshadows the terrible trouble (also ʿakar) that the following chapter narrates (7:25).

In sum, Rahab’s family marks the lone human exception to ḥerem destruction, and precious metals constitute the lone material one (v. 19). Joshua declares the latter to be “sacred [qodeš] to the LORD”—set apart from all profane use for sacred use alone.57 This statement contains a surprise on at least two accounts. (1) It marks the first and only biblical reference to the existence of such a “treasury” in connection with the tabernacle. (2) The phrase “house of the LORD” (v. 24) most often refers to the temple in Jerusalem, whether the one built by Solomon (1 Kings 7:12, 48) or rebuilt by the returned exiles (Ezra 3:11; 8:29; Zech. 8:9).58 David includes treasuries in his plans for the temple (1 Chron. 26:20; 28:11–12), and over time they become the repository of gold and silver objects (29:8) and money paid at the temple (2 Kings 12:4).59

Thus, Joshua 6:19 and 24 may comprise an anachronism, a reference to the later temple treasury as the ultimate destination of all metallic plunder from Jericho. Nevertheless, it may be significant that most later references to the temple treasury are plurals (lit., “treasuries”; 1 Kings 7:51; 14:26; 2 Kings 12:18; 1 Chron. 26:22; 28:12), not singular as here (cf. also only 1 Chron. 29:8; Zech. 11:13). If so, Joshua 6:19 and 24 may concern a tabernacle treasury seeded by goods from Jericho, an event about which the Bible is elsewhere silent.60 Its purpose and long-term destiny remain a mystery, as does the wisdom of encumbering Israel, a mobile infantry just beginning a long campaign, with Yahweh’s treasures. But the point here is clear: Joshua classes metallic objects from Jericho as ḥerem (i.e., “devoted to Yahweh”) but destined for his treasury, not for destruction.

At last, the people answer the trumpet’s call with their long-awaited victory shout (v. 20).61 And, as v. 5 promised, the wall collapses where it stands, each Israelite marches straight into Jericho, and Israel captures the city.62 The mound of Jericho measures about ten acres—in reality, a “town” rather than a “city.”63 Since Rahab’s house survives intact, the “fall” probably was either a breach in the wall or a kind of chain reaction of collapsing along it.64 Inside, Israel obeys Joshua’s instructions, and the slaughter is total: everything living in the city—both humans and animals—are devoted to Yahweh (v. 21).65 Indirect-object-first syntax singles out the lone exception (v. 22), Rahab and (lit.) “her entire family,” whom the spies lead safely from Jericho (v. 23). They locate them somewhere “outside the camp of Israel” (v. 23b), presumably to maintain its ritual cleanness.

Two further disjunctive sentences dramatically lower the curtain on Jericho. The first contrasts the fates of the city (a terrible conflagration) and the metal items (safely in the sanctuary treasury; v. 24; cf. v. 19). The second highlights the ultimate fate of “Rahab the prostitute” and company (v. 25): Joshua “spares” them, and Rahab still lives in Israel (“to this [the writer’s] day”). “Spared” echoes Rahab’s condition for protecting the spies (cf. 2:13) and confirms that Joshua fulfills it.66 The remark quietly portrays Joshua as a man of integrity (he keeps oaths) and free of any consequences for waiving the ḥerem mandate. It also confirms his full authority as Moses’ successor to do so.

What justifies Rahab’s survival? The narrator reiterates: She hid the spies (cf. v. 16; 2:16). That action apparently has obligated Israel to reciprocate in kind (“Our lives for your lives!” [2:14]), and Israel did so. More subtly, Rahab embodies the opportunity that larger Jericho squandered: Had the city welcomed rather than pursued Joshua’s “messengers,” it might have survived, too (cf. Deut. 20:10–15). Literarily, her fate foreshadows Israel’s next close encounter with Canaanites (Josh. 9) and holds out hope for their survival. Meanwhile, the spared treasury items anticipate the role other items from Jericho will play in Joshua’s next military venture (Josh. 7–8).

Postscript: Joshua’s Curse and Reputation (vv. 26–27)

Postscript: Joshua’s curse and reputation (vv. 26–27). To conclude, the narrator returns Joshua to center stage to pronounce a curse on Jericho (v. 26). The vague reference “at that time” loosely connects the event with the city’s fall (cf. 5:2; 11:10, 21), and Joshua’s reference to “this city” possibly assumes a public occasion there. The pronouncement of curses was common in the ancient biblical world. Officials in ancient Israel would invoke the curse formula (“cursed is the one who does X”) to outlaw certain behaviors. Their pronouncement would also detail the dire consequences to befall violators (Deut. 27:15; 1 Sam. 14:24, 28; cf. Jer. 11:3; 20:15).67 The phrase “before the LORD” here (also 1 Sam. 26:19) makes explicit what all Israelite curses assume—that Yahweh himself enforces them. His backing is what gives the oath and its stipulations popular credibility.68

Joshua’s curse may follow a specific ancient custom attested in two Hittite texts—the cursing of a city just destroyed.69 It condemns anyone who rebuilds Jericho by again laying its foundations and erecting it gates. It exacts a heavy price from the violator—the loss of his “firstborn” and “youngest” sons—but the exact means of payment remain obscure. The curse may allude to a pagan ceremony involving child sacrifice at the founding of a city or to a high rate of infant mortality caused by the water from Jericho’s spring.70

Interestingly, later Israelites continued to inhabit Jericho despite the curse (see 18:21; Judg. 3:13; 2 Sam. 10:5). Evidently, the curse only condemned any attempt to rebuild the city as a fortified city, not just to live there.71 That would explain why the curse later exacted its terrible toll on Hiel from Bethel (1 Kings 16:34), a fulfillment that Joshua 6:26 literarily anticipates.72

But why single out Jericho for cursing? Certainly, the city has great symbolic value. Near a natural ford of the Jordan, the city marks one of the primary gateways into Canaan (cf. 4:19; 2 Sam. 10:5), a role it played for nearly eight thousand years.73 To foreign passersby, the charred ruins were evidence of judgment by some deity, to passing Israelites mute testimony to Yahweh’s first great victory in Canaan.74 The ruins would also remind them of the city’s status as ḥerem; to rebuild it would rob Yahweh of a sizeable war prize and risk his retaliation.75 Finally, Deuteronomy 13:17[16] might lead some Israelites to read Jericho as a city destroyed and abandoned for heresy. From this angle, ruined Jericho would silently warn Israel of the terrible fate awaiting those who abandon Yahweh for other gods.

Finally, Yahweh’s stunning victory further enhances Joshua’s public stature. It confirms convincingly that “the LORD was with Joshua” just as he promised (v. 27a; cf. 1:5). An Israelite leader can have no better reputation. It also secures Joshua’s stature among the land’s inhabitants (v. 27b; cf. 4:14). All in all, Joshua is “on a roll”—apparently, a leader so blessed and brilliant as to be unstoppable. Under Joshua, the reader expects a relentless juggernaut soon to sweep all of Canaan clean of resistance. Sadly, chapter 7 will soon show that leaders who presume upon the divine presence do so to their shame. Joshua’s triumphal moment as king of the world will soon prove to be surprisingly short-lived.

Bridging Contexts

Bridging Contexts

THE BRIDGE FROM JOSHUA 5–6 to Contemporary Significance traverses some difficult terrain. First, it returns us briefly to the use of the number seven and noises in Joshua 6. Second, it discusses two controversial subjects, the archaeology of Jericho and the troubling issue of violence in Joshua.

Of sevens and noises. The prominence of “seven”/“seventh” is not surprising. Several Israelite cultic festivals last seven days,76 as did the celebration that dedicated Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 8:62–66). Mesopotamian literature prominently features seven in lists associated with gods and in reports of seven-day festivals or sevenfold ritual actions.77 More important, both Akkadian and Ugaritic literatures attest the pattern of an action repeated for six days followed by a decisive event on the seventh. In the Gilgamesh Epic, the seventh day marks the moment the storm subsides, and Gilgamesh offers the gods seven bowls of offerings and forfeits immortality for sleeping for seven days.78 The six-day ritual with seventh-day climax, therefore, follows this ancient Near Eastern pattern.

As for the noise makers, the term teruʿah (Josh. 6:5, 20) apparently means “sharp, loud sound,” whether a trumpet blast, clashing cymbal (Ps. 150:5), or human shout.79 In military contexts, trumpet blasts sound simple signals for troops (Num. 10:5–6; Judg. 3:27; 6:34; 7:18) or alarms in cities under attack (Ezek. 33:4, 5; Neh. 4:20). Israel also uses battle cries to terrify their enemies (Judg. 7:20–22; 1 Sam. 4:5–6; 17:20), especially as a battle begins (17:52), and also hears their attacking enemies’ shouts (Zeph. 1:16; cf. Amos 1:14; 2:2). In cultic contexts, blowing trumpets accompany Yahweh’s dramatic descent on Mount Sinai (Ex. 19:13, 16), the entrance of the ark into Jerusalem with David (2 Sam. 6:15), and Israel’s songs of praise (Ps. 47:5–6[6–7]; 98:5–6). Trumpet blasts across Israel also announce the opening of the important Year of Jubilee (Lev. 25:9).80 Shouts of praise accompany sacrifices and ceremonies in the temple (Ps. 27:6; 89:15[16]; cf. Num. 29:1; Job 8:21) and celebrate the laying of the temple’s foundation (Ezra 3:11). It is no surprise, then, that the present act of Yahweh’s war, the ritual conquest of Jericho, combines these military and cultic customs. The dramatic climax of the seven-day ceremony is surely something worth making noise about!

The problem of ḥerem.81 Many Bible readers find the wholesale killing of Canaanites in Joshua 6 repulsive and disturbing. They find it hard to accept that their loving God sanctioned the brutal annihilation of an entire city. Hard, disquieting questions arise concerning the morality of their God. If given the chance, some might even vote Joshua completely out of the canon. A review of three biblical ideas—Yahweh’s war, the concept of ḥerem (or “the ban”), and God’s mandate—launch us on the road to reckoning with the violence in Joshua.

The term “Yahweh’s war” describes the biblical theme that God has enemies whom he defeats militarily, usually with Israel’s participation and for their benefit.82 In Joshua, the concept shapes its narration of the defeats of Jericho (ch. 6), Ai (ch. 8), Gibeon (10:1–15), and southern and northern Canaan (10:16–11:23). It assumes that such war is a sacred act and, hence, requires ritual purity in Israel’s war camp (Deut. 23:9–14; cf. Josh. 3:5; 1 Sam. 7:9–10; 13:8–14; 2 Sam. 11:11).83 Yahweh himself issues the command for Israel to attack (e.g., Num. 14:39–45; Josh. 6:1–5; 8:8; 10:40; 11:12, 15, 20, 23), but he alone (not Israel) actually fights and wins the victory.84 Israel is simply to trust Yahweh for victory, not depend on their own devices.

Basically, the word ḥerem means “utter destruction” (Isa. 43:28; Zech. 14:11; Mal. 4:6 [3:24]) or “plunder” (Ezek. 26:5) and derives from the root ḥaram hi. (“to utterly destroy annihilate” [cities, nations, people, livestock]”).85 In Leviticus and Joshua, however, the root has a specifically religious sense. The verb connotes “to devote to destruction” (e.g., Lev. 27:21; Josh. 6:21), the noun an “object devoted to destruction” or “banned object” (e.g., Lev. 27:28, 29; Num. 18:14; Josh. 6:17). Whatever is “devoted to destruction” or “banned” is assumed to be consecrated to Yahweh for his exclusive ownership and use. In essence, it has been transferred from the profane realm of humans to the holy realm of Yahweh (Josh. 8:26, 28; cf. Mic. 4:13).

As God’s exclusive property, ḥerem enjoys the highest degree of holiness (“most holy to the LORD” [Lev. 27:28]) and cannot be redeemed for return to the profane sphere. Thus, the only humans who may possess it are Israel’s priests, who had custody of land consecrated to Yahweh (Lev. 27:21; cf. v. 28; Num. 18:14; Ezek. 44:29). However strange it sounds, this religious practice was not unique to Israel. In the Mesha Inscription (ninth cent. B.C.), King Mesha of Moab also invokes the cognate verb: He “devoted to destruction” (ḥerem) an Israelite city to his god, Ashtar Chemosh.86 But one crucial qualification concerning the practice in Israel bears mentioning: The Old Testament does not understand every Israelite destruction of a city or people as an act of religious ḥerem. No Israelite leader can on his own decide to impose ḥerem on an enemy—only Yahweh himself can designate what is ḥerem.

The divine mandate (Deut. 20:16–18) probably raises the reader’s theological queasiness the most. Yahweh allows offers of peace to foreign cities under Israelite siege (vv. 19–20) but mandates that Israel “not leave alive anything that breathes” among Canaan’s six peoples (vv. 16–18). There is no getting around that cold hard fact. No humane provisions exempt women, children, the disabled, or the elderly. The reason is that they will lead Israel into apostasy (cf. Deut. 7:2; 13:16, 18; Josh. 6:17, 18, 21). In other words, ḥerem in this case concerns not judgment on Canaanites for abhorrent practices but protection of Israelites from their persuasive instruction.

This sweeping mandate sparks many questions. Was this slaughter really necessary? Was Canaanite religion so attractive—and Israel’s faith so fragile—as to make Israelite apostasy inevitable? And, most important, what does this policy imply about the moral character of Yahweh? Does it suggest that God considers other—if not all—human life as of similar low value? Does it expose God as a cold, forbidding, irascible deity—a kind of cosmic Darth Vader eerily possessed of an erratic “dark side”?

Three recent scholars have proposed ways to understand Joshua’s violent ethnic cleansing. Rowlett suggests that we read Joshua as a special kind of rhetoric, the rhetoric of violence, not necessarily the report of actual events. In her view, its military language borrows the rhetoric of violence from Assyria to help Judah rebuild its identity under Josiah (seventh cent. B.C.) after centuries of foreign domination.87 The rhetoric warns Josiah’s subjects that his government would suppress anyone in the kingdom that resisted his control.

At first glance, Rowlett’s thesis takes some of the sting out of Joshua’s violence by reducing it to mere rhetoric. But, ultimately, her proposal offers no satisfactory relief. If her thesis holds, the book still threatens real violence, albeit against opponents rather than Canaanites. Further, the alleged ties between Joshua and Josiah are by no means certain. Were royal ideology driving the book, one would expect many more connections with later kings than it has.88 In short, while suggestive, Rowlett’s view does not fully satisfy.

The quite different approach of Knierim starts by comparing the treatment of other nations in Joshua with their treatment elsewhere in the Old Testament.89 He notes how other texts speak of Yahweh as righteous, the merciful ruler of all peoples (Ps. 96; Jonah), a defender of the weak of all nations (Ps. 82), a God whom the nations seek and, thereby, abandon war (Isa. 2:1–4). That view of God, Knierim claims, would drive those biblical voices to grant the Canaanites continued life and dignity. The war and land policy of Joshua are, thus, theologically out of step with the God of the wider Old Testament.90 Knierim asks readers to set them aside in favor of the Old Testament’s majority view.

In a sense, this intriguing, bold proposal compares to what many readers do anyway—ignore the book of Joshua as irrelevant. Knierim’s advocacy of Canaanite dignity also appeals to a modern sense of human rights, and one cannot fault his reading of Joshua within its larger Old Testament context. But why give the other texts greater weight on the issue of violence than Joshua? Is there no way to retain all Old Testament voices in the discussion?91

In my view, Knierim’s hermeneutical approach is correct, but I would nuance his conclusion slightly. Knierim rules Joshua out of bounds theologically because it departs from the consensus of the larger Old Testament. But I would argue from that consensus that Joshua’s war and land policy be understood as time-specific and limited. It applies only to the conquest and settlement periods and, hence, cannot be used as a precedent elsewhere. This does not settle the theological question of God’s morality, but it does explain Joshua’s policy as rooted in a specific context and serving a narrow intention.

Stone offers a completely different approach from those of Rowlett and Knierim.92 He argues that texts within Joshua itself reflect discomfort with the idea of holy war and the annihilation of the Canaanites among those who edited the book. They amount to a subtle downplaying of the martial and territorial motifs of Yahweh war. For example, the book starkly contrasts the acceptance of Yahweh’s plan for Canaan by Rahab and the Gibeonites (2:9–11; 9–10) with resistance to it by Canaanite kings (5:1; 9:1–2; 10:1–5; 11:1–5). The contrast, Stone says, intends to make the case that the Canaanites perished for resisting Yahweh, not for religious decadence or economic oppression of peasants. Thus, the book’s message promotes responsiveness to Yahweh’s actions and warns against resistance to them.93

Indeed, Stone argues, the book’s reshaping within the DH introduces the law as the object of Israel’s acceptance or resistance.94 Thus, in its present form Joshua’s main message is that holy war (Stone’s term) is ultimately more about “uncompromising obedience to Yahweh’s law” than about “territory or warfare.”95 In sum, Stone’s view offers not only a way around our horror of the conquest but a persuasive articulation of the original meaning of Joshua.

I find myself in agreement with Stone’s observations concerning Rahab and the Gibeonites. His thesis that the book links the Canaanites’ fate to their rejection of Yahweh’s actions is certainly correct. Elsewhere, I have argued from a reading of Joshua 7–10 that the book actually affirms divine acceptance of foreigners like Rahab and the Gibeonites within Israel.96 Amid the catastrophe around them, they alone receive compassion—indeed, salvation. Their very survival strongly implies that Yahweh permits exceptions to the mandate of Deuteronomy 20 to those who acknowledge Yahweh’s greatness.

Thus, rather than promote violence as the standard Israelite treatment of foreigners who reside within Israel, Joshua teaches two things: (1) Those who honor Yahweh’s greatness and do not teach Israel idolatry may remain in the land, and (2) rigorous obedience to the law is Yahweh’s supreme expectation for all peoples in the land. The cases of Rahab and the Gibeonites exemplify the first teaching, the book’s repeated references to the law and to Moses spotlight the second.97 Thus, Joshua’s openness to non-Israelites parallels the inclusive themes of Knierim’s texts and anticipates the New Testament’s emphasis on the international ethnic inclusivity of the gospel (e.g., Acts 1:8; Rev. 5:9; 14:6).98 More important, I would argue that the book of Joshua reflects two aspects of God’s nature, his righteous anger against opponents and his mercy and compassion toward those who turn to him. In my view, Christians come to experience both aspects of God’s character through their relationship with Jesus Christ.

Jericho and archaeology. A second troubling matter besides the practice of ḥerem concerns the archaeology of Jericho (or Tell es-Sultan). A century of excavations has unveiled the history of Jericho’s occupations in great detail.99 Though small in area (about ten acres), the town is among the world’s oldest (founded ca. 8000 B.C.), a fact easily explained by its location near an important Jordan crossing, its warm climate, and the spring that supplies its water. In the mid-1930s, J. Garstang excavated Jericho, dating the ruins of both a double city wall atop the mound and a residential area on its southeast slope (“City IV”) to 1400 B.C.100 He credited their destruction to the Israelites under Joshua.

But excavations two decades later led Kathleen Kenyon to revise the date of Garstang’s double wall upward to ca. 2400 B.C. and City IV’s destruction to ca. 1550 B.C.101 Spectacular evidence from its nearby tombs attests the town’s great prosperity during the early Middle Bronze Age (ca. 2000 B.C.), but the mound itself shows only a few traces of that heyday. A violent conflagration (ca. 1550 B.C.) left the town a barren, uninhabited ruins for two centuries, and erosion washed away all but a few traces of the Late Bronze occupation (fourteenth-thirteenth cent. B.C.).102

The question is, Was Jericho inhabited during the next four centuries (thirteenth to ninth cent. B.C.) until its rebuilding during Ahab’s reign by Hiel (1 Kings 16:34)? The current scholarly consensus follows the conclusion of Kenyon: Except for a small, short-lived settlement (ca. 1400 B.C.), Jericho was completely uninhabited ca. 1550–1100 B.C. In other words, notwithstanding Joshua 6, there was no fortified city of Jericho for Joshua and Israel to conquer.103 This is true whether one opts for an “early” (fifteenth cent.) or “late” (thirteenth cent.) date for Israel’s arrival in Canaan.

The absence of a “fortified city,” however, may not necessarily mean that Jericho was completely uninhabited in the Late Bronze Age. As noted above, most Late Bronze Age towns were small and unwalled, and there is in fact evidence of such a settlement at Jericho (fourteenth cent. B.C.).104 The “wall” of Joshua 2 and 6 might be (or, at least, somehow relate to) the contiguous outer walls of houses that together formed a protective circle around the city. If so, this evidence would tend to favor a “late” date for Jericho’s fall.

Along a different line, however, B. G. Wood has recently argued that the archaeological reports of both Garstang and Kenyon reflect evidence for a Joshua-era Jericho.105 On that basis, he reaffirms Garstang’s original dating of City IV and its walls to ca. 1400 B.C., thus lending support to an “early date” for Jericho’s destruction. Further, he finds evidence in the reports that remarkably parallels the biblical account. For example, Kenyon suggested that a heap of red mudbricks found at the base of the revetment wall below City IV originally came from the city’s collapsed parapet wall. (They had tumbled down the slopes.) The combination of fallen bricks and timbers and evidence of a violent conflagration also suggested to Kenyon that the eastern walls collapsed before the fire scorched them. That scenario certainly compares to the biblical report that the walls fell before Israel burned the city (Josh. 6:20, 24).106

Wood’s reading of the archaeological evidence is still subject to dispute.107 His dating of Jericho’s destruction to the Late Bronze Age depends heavily on carbon—14 dating of remains from Jericho’s burn layer. But a subsequent study applied high-precision radiocarbon dating to eighteen samples of carbon and six charred cereal grains from that same source and twelve other carbon samples. The results confirmed Kenyon’s original dating (ca. 1550 B.C.) rather than that of Wood (ca. 1400 B.C.).108 By implication, they also undermine the force of Wood’s observation that the city’s archaeological data favorably compares to the biblical data.

But even if Wood’s thesis survives this finding, it would not prove the claims of Joshua 6. To show that City IV suffered terrible destruction does not verify that Israel was responsible for it, but it does leave the possibility open. In short, though often cited with appreciation, Wood’s thesis that Jericho was inhabited ca. 1400 B.C. is in doubt. But suppose one prefers (as do many scholars) a “late date” for the conquest? Kitchen is among them and offers an alternate theory. He deems it highly likely that erosion has washed away the remains of Late Bronze Age Jericho—the Jericho usually linked with Joshua. In his view, those ruins now lie under the modern road and farmland along the site’s eastern side.109 Kitchen concludes:

There may well have been a Jericho during 1275–1220, but above the tiny remains of that of 1400–1275, so to speak, and all of this has long, long since gone. We will never find “Joshua’s Jericho” for that very simple reason.110

In short, the archaeological evidence bears four interpretations, depending on one’s view of Jericho’s layout at the time as well as whether one prefers an “early” or “late” date for the Joshua era. The lack of evidence for the former means either that Jericho was uninhabited at the time (Kenyon) or that erosion has removed it (Kitchen). But if the evidence Wood offers holds, the early date would remain a possibility. Finally, if one assumes that LBA Jericho (fourteenth cent. B.C.) was a small, unwalled city, a destruction date in the 1300s B.C.—a “later,” if not a “late,” date—becomes a possibility. A decision between the options will depend on the persuasion of evidence and arguments beyond the scope of this commentary.111

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

THE CONTEMPORARY MEANING OF Joshua 5–6 centers on four important themes: the wilderness experience, the problem of fitness before God, the end of Israel’s shame, and the reality of the Jesus war that engages us (on Jesus war, see below).

The past: the wilderness backdrop. Above, I indicated that the two scenes at Gilgal (circumcision and Passover) symbolize Israel’s historic transition from the wilderness to the Promised Land. The participants are all people who, having endured and survived desert life, now prepare to move forward. Joshua 5 reports the end of the wilderness period, but what had the Israelites now camped near the Jordan learned during that time? How were they different from their rebellious ancestors, and what can their experience teach us today? Deuteronomy 8:2–3 summarizes God’s perspective on the purposes of their wilderness experiences:

Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. (Deut. 8:2–3)

What God wanted—and what the wilderness was to produce—was a spiritually healthy, fit Israel. The first thing they had learned in the desert was humility (to “humble you”). They had learned to depend totally on God rather than on themselves. Indeed, the only reason they are now safely in Canaan at all is because they have depended completely on God.

The wilderness of Sinai is a barren, hostile desert without the requisite rainfall to cause crops to grow. No human effort can transform it into a lush garden spot. Underground water from wells at oases is available in sufficient quantity to keep humans and animals from dying of thirst. They must, of course, reach an oasis to access it. But those life-giving wells cannot support agriculture able to feed large groups like Israel. People starve to death in the wilderness unless they bring food with them or obtain it from passersby. In that hostile environment, Israel came to trust God to provide them with food and water to sustain them. God gave them water from rocks and manna from the sky. It is that trust that got them to the west bank of the Jordan. Thus, the group that drank from the Jordan rather than desert springs and ate food from Canaan rather than manna are more spiritually fit than they were before.

A brief glance back across the Jordan also gives us some good news from Israel’s experience. It teaches us that as we move forward, what we really need is more than just better technology or more creative ideas, as useful and necessary as they may be in their own way. What we really need is spiritual fitness—a firm trust in God himself to sustain us through what lies ahead just as he did Israel in the wilderness. Our God is one whose quiet, loving presence supports us through all the experiences through which he leads us, even wilderness ones. As he supplied wandering Israel with manna, so he provides for our basic needs, too. However difficult the days, he gently keeps us alive. Indeed, the entire experience aims to create in us a hunger for God himself—to learn to depend on him and to trust that in a pinch he will come through for us. God’s purpose is to cultivate in us the same spiritual health he did in Israel—a fitness for what comes next.

Second, God used the desert days to “test” Israel—to see what is “in [their] heart.” Here Moses has in mind the heart as the center of their will—the place where Israel makes choices. Time and again, the Israelites faced the choice of whether or not to obey God’s Instruction. The long journey to Canaan taught Israel much about how double-minded their hearts were—devoted to Yahweh one day, in rebellion the next. The group camped along the Jordan had not fully purged themselves of sin, and they needed circumcision and the Passover observance to further round out their fitness for Canaan and its battles. But enroute to those moments they had learned how fickle and easily-swayed their heart was. They had learned how central (or peripheral) God’s will was to their life-choices.

A brief look back across the Jordan from Gilgal will teach us similarly to take stock of what really is in our own heart. The fact is that, like Israel, we are often prone to fickleness and subject to bad influences, especially when things are going well for us. Sometimes, like Israel, we may rebel outright against God’s wishes, at other times the list of “what’s important” in our hearts may differ radically from God’s. Too often we are like kids who, if left on their own, easily do what they want rather than what their parents do. We easily give in to our own hungers for status, wealth, approval, freedom, or fulfillment. Those are the things that grip our heart. But Israel learned in the wilderness—and teaches us today—what is truly of value and what our heart really wants. The Israelites soon bound for Jericho knew the difference between their own hungers (“bread alone”) and a focused hunger on what God wanted (“every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD”). Their experience points us in the right direction—to make obedience to God’s Word our number one priority.

In short, God used the wilderness period to sift and sort Israel, and the band that survived it learned much. Like them, our task is also to respond willingly to the experiences through which God leads us—to enhance and maintain our spiritual fitness. We must persereve, tightly clutching his guiding hand as we navigate our way enroute to the battles ahead. In Joshua 5, Israel tooks steps to get spiritually fit for those battles, and so should we.

The problem of fitness. What is spiritual fitness, and how can we can improve ours? Many readers may associate the idea of “fitness” with the grueling physical training in the military that readies troops for the rigors of combat. Since the late twentieth century, however, physical fitness has become a cultural priority in the general population. Today a growing industry of fitness centers offers ordinary people places to strengthen their cardiovascular system, lose weight, and improve their self-esteem. There is a large, heavily utilized fitness center connected with the hospital near my home, and I have seen such centers in shopping malls and in downtown buildings. Corporations and businesses also provide access to fitness facilities for their employees since good physical conditioning improves their attitude and productivity. For some people their neighborhood is their gym. They exercise by walking several miles from their home and back, often with like-minded friends.

As we saw above, Israel had to acquire a different kind of fitness—ritual fitness—to live in Canaan. That is why at their camp at Gilgal they circumcised all Israelite males and celebrated the Passover (5:2–12). It judged them fit on Yahweh’s scale of holiness to participate in Yahweh’s war and to reside there as his people after the Conquest. Israel’s example challenges Christians today to pursue a similar self-assessment and self-improvement—their spiritual fitness for Jesus’ war and kingdom life.

What is Christian spiritual fitness? A comparison of the latter with physical fitness helps illumine the idea. A program of regular exercise seeks to improve an individual’s physical and emotional health. Weight loss is a key contributor to both, since shedding extra flab decreases the strain on the heart and reduces cholesterol. Those who lose weight also feel good about themselves, especially when other people notice the change. Further, regular exercise also significantly reduces stress, a silent, sinister strain on the body that may cause headaches and even heart attacks. Stress reduction noticeably brightens the exercisers’ outlook on life and increases their energy level. The ultimate goal of physical activity, however, is to strengthen the heart muscle and stave off serious diseases.

Similarly, spiritual fitness aims to strengthen the hearts of believers—their heart for God and for doing his will. It also seeks to rid them of spiritual flab that they sometimes drag around as part of their identity. By this I mean the bad habits, little slaveries, gloomy outlooks, divided loyalties, and cynicism that sap our energy. Left unattended, they engender doubts, feed our fears, and rob us of focus. To shed them, however, frees that sapped energy to energize our lives with Christ. Spiritual fitness substitutes energy (or “passion”) for lethargic spiritual laziness. Above all, it strengthens our heart—our resolve to live for Jesus as faithfully as we can. It replaces the Bread Alone Diet with the more nourishing Word Alone Diet.

What exercises maintain one’s spiritual fitness? In my view, a regular regime of five basic activities promotes good spiritual health. The first two items offer healthy spiritual nutrition. (1) Of first importance is weekly worship with a local Christian congregation. Hebrews 10:25 urges us not to neglect meeting together as believers to encourage each other in our growth in fitness. Amazingly, Jesus promises to join us whenever we do so (Matt. 18:20)! More important, as our Creator, Savior, and heavenly Father, God simply deserves our honor and praise, and public worship is an important way to do that. Corporate worship benefits us in two specific ways: It gives us a break from everything else so we can focus on God, and it gives us extended contact with his very presence.

(2) A second basic nutritional exercise is to practice a love for the Bible as God’s Word. Regular Bible reading hits the pause button on our often frenetic preoccupation with “bread alone” so we can nurture our souls with God’s words. Typically, we get to know people through conversation over time, and those conversations also teach us things about ourselves. A pattern of Scripture reading opens an ongoing conversation with God. It allows him to speak to us personally so we get to know him better—and to know ourselves better, too. Some believers set aside devotional times to read the Word, while others prefer listening to Bible readings from CDs en route somewhere. Whatever one’s method, consider it a supplement to our daily diet of news; the latter keeps us abreast of what is going on, God’s Word tells us what he thinks about it all. Time with Scripture also reminds us that he is right in the thick of all those other things.

I also recommend three strengthening exercises to supplement the nutritional ones. (3) Some form of ongoing service for Christ, preferably outside the church, is a necessary practice. We may start by praying for God to guide us to find an activity in which we may put our faith in action and visibly live out the love of Christ. In my view, priority should go to service done for people outside the church, particularly those who do not yet confess Christ as savior. For example, consider some way to bring justice to people whom your city or town tends to ignore if not disadvantage. In any case, the point is to do something that we enjoy or that stretches us. “Stretching” is always a good spiritual practice!

(4) Participation in a small accountability group is good for our spiritual health. The Christian life is, after all, a team sport, and small groups are essential to any spiritual fitness program. Such groups pick us up when we fall, applaud us when we succeed, and challenge us when we need a swift kick. Consider it like going to the gym, spiritually speaking.

(5) Regular offerings to support God’s work financially are also an important spiritual exercise. The outside world may rag on Christian organizations for being “all in it for the money,” but we know better. We know that God expects us to invest a portion of the resources that he gives us in his ongoing work.112 Jesus teaches us to put our money in a safe, secure place—where rust cannot corrode it or thieves steal it (Matt. 6:19–20). It is in good hands with God for God will make it “grow” hugely through what he is doing in the world.

(6) Finally, an occasional Spiritual Fitness Test, an honest look in the mirror at how we are doing (perhaps in a group), is always a good idea.

The end of shame. One special highpoint, God’s removal of Israel’s shame (5:9), also has something to say to us. In Israel’s case, the shame in view is Egypt’s ridicule of them for (in Egypt’s view) stupidly following Yahweh, given his burial of a whole generation in the desert. What a relief to have Yahweh remove the humiliation wrongly heaped on them and to receive divine vindication for their faithfulness.

That humiliation by others is not unlike what Christians sometimes experience today. As I read the popular press, I pick up vibes that reflect a mood critical of Christians. Two recently dominant values probably drive this spirit: an increasingly secular worldview and religious pluralism as the cultural norm. Secularism excludes God from having a voice in anything and, by implication, looks down on anyone who claims that God already runs everything. The humiliating message its devotees send Christians is, “Oh, don’t tell me you still believe in that old stuff?” Pluralism embraces all religions as good and ridicules anyone who asserts Christianity’s unique claims about Jesus. Pluralism’s followers tell Christians, “Shame on you! What arrogance to think that your religion is better than any other!” Indeed, my “gut feel” is that they perceive such claims to be insulting and a threat to the culture.

Some readers may have personally experienced touches of disdain from coworkers, neighbors, friends, and family. To my knowledge, no North American has gone to jail for holding on to faith in Jesus, but people do occasionally look down on us for our beliefs. Recent political activism by some highly visible evangelicals has probably made things worse for us.113 Suddenly, evangelicals are on everyone’s radar screen plugging their favorite hot-button issues in the political arena. Alas, the high profile creates the impression that we are out to force our beliefs on everyone else by political means.

Of course, popular hostility to followers of Jesus is nothing new. Jesus himself warned us to expect it: “Everyone will hate you because of me, but those who stand firm to the end will be saved” (Matt. 10:22 TNIV; cf. vv. 16–25). Emotionally, the rejection by the culture, and particularly people we know personally, is difficult to take. A section in Malcolm Gladwell’s recent bestseller, Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking, captures the pain well. Gladwell briefly reports one fascinating result of research on marriage by Professor John Gottman of the University of Washington.114

Over many years, Gottman has analyzed videotaped conversations between marriage partners about some ordinary topic. From his studies, Gottman claims that he can predict whether a marriage is in trouble merely by hearing a brief snippet of a couple’s conversation (what Gladwell calls a “thin-slice”). For Gottman, the key signs of serious marital trouble are four negative emotions—defensiveness, stonewalling, criticism, and contempt—and of these Gottman believes contempt to be the most important indicator. (By “contempt,” he means insulting comments in which one partner from a stance of superiority puts down the other). Gottman has found that if contempt infects a marriage, he can actually predict how many colds the husband and wife may suffer. In other words, the stress of receiving contempt from someone one loves is so great that it even takes its toll on the recipient’s immune system. Says Gottman, “Contempt is closely related to disgust, and what disgust and contempt are about is completely rejecting and excluding someone from the community.”115 All this is to say that the experience of contempt and its impact on one’s emotional side are things to be taken seriously.

Here again the gospel gives us good news that God also removes our moments of humiliation. Jesus reminds us that he himself calls us not “servants” but “friends” (John 15:15). Knowing that I am one of Jesus’ friends eases the traces of shame left by our culture’s rejection. So does remembering God’s declaration concerning me: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). In Christ, I have nothing to be ashamed of for following Jesus. On the contrary, I look forward to the vindication of my faith that Paul anticipates when he writes about every knee bowing and every tongue confessing that Jesus is LORD (Phil. 2:10–11; cf. Rom. 14:11). As a forgiven sinner, of course, I have no reason to gloat, but every reason to feel satisfaction. The satisfaction derives not from the fact that those who rejected Jesus “finally get theirs,” but from the smiling approval of my Lord Jesus, for the fact that I hung in there with him.

A dose of reality: the Jesus War. The final theme about which Joshua 5–6 speaks to us concerns the unpleasant fact that we are not at peace but at war, the Jesus War. The contempt discussed above marks the iceberg tip of a harsh reality: The enemies of the gospel comprise a vast, truly cruel and truly tyrannical foe with vast strength (see Eph. 6:12). They are spiritual powers that cruelly enslave human beings and which, if unconquered, doom their captives to terrible eternal punishment.

These powers underlie every international war, rotting jail, violent crime, terrible torture, smutty movie, drug addiction, broken marriage, tragic suicide, and arrogant bureaucrat. They thwart our attempts to share the gospel, to reconcile fractured families, to better our neighborhoods, to serve the poor, and to win justice for the oppressed. Internationally, they imprison and oppress our sisters and brothers in contexts where real, live war rages. In short, with Joshua, we share the theological assumption that there is a war on and that God fights for his people.116 The Jesus War actually continues the Yahweh war of the Old Testament.117 Warrior Jesus exercises the same power on our behalf today as Warrior Yahweh did for Israel at Jericho. It is both a spiritual and political one, demanding that its troops engage God’s enemies in both arenas.118

Now, a “decisive battle” is the central turning point in any war, the single event that turns the tide of victory in favor of one side, however many battles still remain to be fought. In early June, 1942, the U.S. won such a decisive battle against Japan at the Battle of Midway.119 Having crippled the U.S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, the Japanese navy hoped to lure American carriers to defeat by attacking U.S. forces on Midway Island. Instead, decoded secret messages and a little good luck enabled U.S. planes to surprise and sink four Japanese carriers, a defeat that crippled the Japanese navy for the rest of the war.

This history illustrates one important thing about the Jesus War: Jesus Christ has already won its decisive battles. To us, the tide of war often seems turned against us, but his victories have in reality decisively turned it in our favor.120 To paraphrase Joshua, Jesus has already “given the enemy into our hands” (cf. 6:2; 8:1; 10:8). The healing of the Gerasene demoniac marks one such victory (Luke 8:27–36). This man’s tormenters were so despotic that he lived pathetically alone among ritually unclean tombs. They were, in fact, a demon horde by the name of “Legion,” the Roman term for a fearful military unit.121 Jesus banished the spiritual legion to nearby pigs, a conquest akin to those of Yahweh’s war against Israel’s human enemies. He proved them to be powerless before his wondrous power.

The cross and the resurrection mark Jesus’ most decisive victory—in Eller’s words, “The Victory of Skull Hill.”122 At Calvary and the empty tomb God through Christ decisively defeated humanity’s bitterest enemies, sin and death. In Colossians 2:15, Paul imagines three invisible events happening on Skull Hill when Jesus died.123 God, first, disarms the “powers and authorities,” stripping off their might like an old, frayed, useless garment.124 Then he “made [them] a public spectacle” (deigmatizo, “to expose to public shame, disgrace”). He imagines the once-powerful authorities slowly trudging, naked and downcast, past the crowds in disgrace (cf. Matt. 1:19).125 What irony! At the time, Jesus’ disciples mourned a terrible loss, but in retrospect it marked the stunning, humiliating defeat of all evil powers. Finally, Paul imagines God “triumphing over them” (thriambeuo, “to celebrate a triumph” or “to lead in triumph”). This phrase pictures a general leading his victorious army and its vanquished foes in public celebration after a battle (cf. 2 Cor. 2:14; Eph. 4:8). It recalls the happy, relieved celebrations after the conclusion of World War II or the more recent Gulf War of the early 1990s.

The point of Paul’s imaginary scenario is this: At the time, Jesus’ death and resurrection seemed a colossal setback for God’s salvific plan, but in retrospect it emerges as the decisive defeat of his enemies. It defeated, dethroned, and disarmed the Prince of Darkness, a great victory that has paved the way for humans to receive salvation.

What are the implications of Paul’s images for us? (1) It means that we are not responsible for winning the final victory for God—Christ has already won that. Our responsibility is simply to carry out our duties as faithful soldiers of the cross.

(2) It means that our spiritual enemies—Satan and all his hosts—need no longer paralyze us with fear. Though to be taken seriously, Satan today is an enemy already defeated and disarmed by the Warrior Jesus. We need not cower in fear before him. We dishonor Christ—and deny the reality of his great victory at Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb—when we treat the devil as a spiritual boogeyman who haunts our every step. In trying not to underestimate the threat that he and his army pose, we sometimes overestimate their power. We need to remember just how defeated and powerless they are. Imagine them as dazed, humiliated soldiers firmly under the authority of Jesus and sing with Martin Luther in his “A Mighty Fortress”:

The Prince of Darkness grim? We tremble not for him!

His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure.

One little word shall fell him!

(3) Finally, Christ’s victory reminds us of just how great is the power working in us. At Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb, God displayed firepower so overwhelming that it released all creation from the grip of sin and death. And that same power undergirds our faithful service as spiritual soldiers. Thus, we should fight our battles with the same confidence that Israel had in marching around Jericho. Our enemy is already on the run, so our task is, like Israel at Jericho, to enter enemy territory, follow up, and consolidate Jesus’ victory there. I once met a man who used to greet people by saying “Praise God, the devil’s on the run!” The greeting often took its recipients by surprise, but it also aimed to encourage them. Christians may take Satan’s power seriously but need not live in terror of him. He is “on the run,” fleeing in retreat, still reeling from his thrashing at Skull Hill and the Empty Tomb.

The year 1971 found me far from home in the hot, humid Mekong Delta of Vietnam. I was a “circuit-riding preacher,” a Navy chaplain assigned to pastor personnel on small bases and repair ships along the delta’s rivers and criss-crossing canals. My travels took me one day to visit a new base at Cho Moi. Militarily, the area was fairly safe, so a group of us took an afternoon stroll from the base to the village nearby. After passing various shops, we entered the local Catholic church where mass was being said in Vietnamese. The language barrier led me to quietly worship on my own. Frankly, a few months in country had left me discouraged. The ministry seemed to be difficult, and my efforts seemed to yield few results. A few times no one showed up for church! I had begun to wonder why God had sent me there—and why instead I could not be home with my lovely young wife of one year.

As I prayed, suddenly the Lord brought Jesus’ reassuring words to mind: “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). A small dawn of hope opened in my weary soul. It reminded me of Christ’s commitment to “build my church,” a church that hell itself could not defeat. I went on with my duties encouraged that God was building it through me, however imperceptible the signs of progress. I soldiered on, confident that God’s efforts through me were unstoppable.

And so should we. Indeed, remembrance of Jesus’ wonderful victories reassures us that we are on the winning side, however difficult the Jerichos we face may seem. Our confidence and persistence derive from the fundamental biblical fact that Jesus has won the decisive battle. Jesus has triumphed; our enemy has been stripped of his weapons and publicly humiliated. People may erect walls to keep Jesus out, but no walls can withstand his overwhelming power. So, daily we enter the field of battle, wherever God sends us, knowing that his powerful presence surrounds our every step. We plod on humbly and patiently, knowing that God already has the enemy on the run. He is, in fact, quietly and gently wooing many of them to surrender willingly to his loving lordship.