Book Write-Up: Glory Days, by Max Lucado

Max Lucado.  Glory Days: Living Your Promised Land Life Now.  Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2015.  See here to buy the book.

Max Lucado notices that a number of Christians are in a rut.  They are not overcoming temptation.  They wonder if the Christian life is supposed to be better than what they are experiencing.  Like the Israelites in the Book of Numbers, they are wandering around in the wilderness, and they have yet to enter the Promised Land.

Lucado draws from the biblical Book of Joshua as he attempts to provide Christians with a better outlook that can help them to enter their Promised Land.  Some of the principles that he highlights include remembering God’s love, meditating on God’s word and obeying it, trusting God for one’s needs, putting one’s own talents to use, reaffirming one’s identity in Christ, and setting one’s mind on the Lord, not so much one’s problems.

Lucado does, in some sense, treat the Book of Joshua as an allegory for the victorious Christian life.  I would say that the positive attitude that he promotes is consistent with things that the New Testament says: about how God has given us all things that pertain to life and godliness (II Peter 1:3), and how God has given us a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind (II Timothy 1:7).  Lucado cites these passages, among others.

At the same time, Lucado also respects the Book of Joshua on its own terms, in a literary sense, or in a sense that may be consistent with the broader story of the Hebrew Bible.  Israel settling the Promised Land, Lucado contends, was about God setting up a place where God could demonstrate God’s own glory, to bless the nations of the earth.   According to Lucado, the reason that the mysterious commander of the Lord’s hosts in Joshua 5 tells Joshua that he is on neither Israel’s side nor the side of Israel’s enemies is that God was not necessarily against the Canaanites: God wanted the Canaanites to repent, and one of them, Rahab, actually did.  Lucado also speculates about why the Israelite Achan took from the plunder that was devoted to God (Joshua 7), and his explanation is that Achan did not fully trust God to provide for his needs: Achan was trying to set up a nest-egg in case the Israelites lost.

Lucado emphasizes God’s unconditional love, how we have God’s favor by grace and not by our performance, and how the Christian life is a matter of God holding on to us, not so much us holding on to God (as important as that is).  I was wondering if that message is consistent with what is in the Torah and the Book of Joshua, since both seem to have a strong conditional element that stresses obedience to the Torah as the path to blessing and life.  My question is valid, but I do not think that it overthrows what Lucado is saying.  God having already given Israel the blessing, before she even crossed the Jordan and entered the Promised Land, is in the Book of Joshua.  Joshua and Israel getting right back up after making a disastrous mistake is in the Book of Joshua.  In short, God’s grace and commitment to Israel are in the Book of Joshua.

What is the Promised Land, according to Lucado?  It can “occasionally” include money, but it also includes overcoming temptation, being able to sleep well at night, being empowered with leadership skills, and having more patience, affection, and hope.  Lucado talks about leaving behind such negative mindsets as fear.  Lucado did well to describe what blessings he meant.

I struggle spiritually with some of the things that Lucado talked about: Jesus’ command in Matthew 5:23-24 for us to pursue reconciliation with those we have offended (I doubt that Jesus did this after offending the Pharisees), and how our sin nature has lost its power after we accept Jesus (in my mind, it still seems to be powerful in my life, and the lives of other Christians).  Still, I think that continually reminding myself of Lucado’s positive insights would be good for me, in terms of my spiritual life.

Lucado’s books usually are not known for their incredible depth.  I wish that Lucado drew a little bit more from scholarly commentaries.  At the same time, I appreciated his insights, and I found his book to be a delight to read.  Some of Lucado’s jokes were corny, but he had some stories that were actually funny.  Lucado also told some inspirational stories.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from BookLook Bloggers, in exchange for an honest review.

A Truly Fresh Start?

I wrote a post on May 24, 2013 about the underwater memorial in Joshua 4:9 and Jimmy Swaggart's view that the stones comprising that memorial were from Israel's experience in the wilderness, and that the message of the memorial was that Israel's sins in the wilderness had been buried underwater, symbolizing that the sins were forgiven and forgotten by God.

While I acknowledged that there was no evidence within the biblical text for Swaggart's interpretation, I thought that there was a theme in the Book of Joshua of Israel having a new beginning, a fresh start.  In Joshua 5, the Israelites are circumcised and, through that, the reproach of Egypt is rolled off of them.  Israel also observes the Passover.

But did Israel truly have a fresh start?  I noticed a passage that seemed to indicate the contrary.  In Joshua 22:17, we read, "Is the iniquity of Peor too little for us, from which we are not cleansed until this day, although there was a plague in the congregation of the LORD" (KJV).  And Joshua 24:19 states: "And Joshua said unto the people, Ye cannot serve the LORD: for he is an holy God; he is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions nor your sins."

Is God forgiving or not?  Has God forgotten Israel's sins from the time prior to her entrance into the Promised Land or not?  Here are some ramblings:

I think that God was giving Israel a fresh start----an opportunity to obey God----but also that God still remembered her sin at Baal-peor.  Was Israel cleansed of that sin at Baal-peor, in the sense that God had forgiven her of that sin?  Well, yes, in the sense that God still had a relationship with Israel rather than forsaking or destroying her for her sin.  And yet, Israel still felt that God was holding over her head the sin of Baal-Peor that she had committed before she entered the Promised Land----that she was not thoroughly cleansed.  And, for a time, that belief was actually encouraging Israel to be punctilious in her obedience to God: she was already dirty before God, on some level, so why make God madder?  It was like Israel was on probation: she had a second chance, but God still remembered her sin at Baal-Peor, so she'd better not blow her second chance!

In the case of Joshua 24:19 ("And Joshua said unto the people, Ye cannot serve the LORD: for he is an holy God; he is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions nor your sins"), I think that Joshua is essentially telling Israel to count the cost: she is eager to be in covenant with God and feels that she will be obedient, but Joshua tells her to think seriously about what she's getting into: she is entering into (or reaffirming) a covenant in which God will take her sin seriously and will punish her for it.

Is this the sort of God I believe in?  I believe in a God who desires righteousness, like the God in Joshua 22 and 24.  Do I believe that God holds my sins over my head?  I don't believe that God does so to condemn me, for God is committed to me and provides me with second, third, and even more chances.  But God may hold my sins over my head as a teaching device----so that I remember the negative consequences of sin and thus choose not to pursue sin.  My understanding of God is perhaps more patient with me than God is with Israel in the Book of Joshua, but I can see at least some value in how the Book of Joshua portrays God.

Who Wrote Joshua 22?

I was thinking about the authorship of Joshua 22.  I don't know anything about the scholarly discussion on this issue, but I was just looking at elements of the chapter and I was asking myself who could have written it.

In Joshua 22, Israel, led by the priest Phinehas, confronts the tribes that live in the Transjordan, namely, Reuben, Simeon, and the half-tribe of Manasseh.  The reason is that these two-and-a-half tribes have constructed a replica of the altar that's at the central sanctuary, and Phinehas and the rest of Israel believe that this Transjordanian construction is a competing altar, on which sacrifices will be offered.  But the two-and-a-half tribes assure Phinehas and company that the Transjordanian altar is not for sacrifice, but rather is a memorial to the rest of Israel that the Transjordanian tribes are a part of Israel (even though the Jordan River separates them) and thus have a right to worship God at the central sanctuary.

At first, I asked if the Deuteronomist could have written Joshua 22.  The reason is that this chapter strongly supports limiting worship to one central sanctuary, which is part of the Deuteronomist ideology.  After all, Israel is criticizing the Transjordanian tribes because it believes that they are constructing an alternative altar for sacrifices, and the Transjordanian tribes retort that they are not doing that at all.  This controversy makes sense if there is an assumption at the outset that sacrificial worship must only be conducted at the central sanctuary, the place God chose to put God's name.

But there appear to be considerations that militate against this chapter being Deuteronomistic.  For one, the two-and-a-half tribes in Joshua 22:21 call the LORD the God of gods.  That presumes that other gods exist, but the LORD is superior to them in rank and power.  But, as Moshe Weinfeld documents, the Deuteronomistic school did not just believe that the LORD was superior to other gods; rather, it denied that the other gods even existed!  Second, in Joshua 22:25, the two-and-a-half tribes express their fear that Israelites in times to come would not allow the Israelites from the Transjordan to worship the LORD.  But I don't think that such a restrictive policy on who can worship God at the central sanctuary would have been on the radar of the Deuteronomist, for the Deuteronomist envisioned even people from other nations coming to the temple to worship the LORD (I Kings 8:41-43).  I have a hard time believing that the Deuteronomist would write a story in which the Transjordanian tribes would have to build a replica of an altar to convince other Israelites of their right as fellow Israelites to worship God at the central sanctuary, for my impression is that, as far as the Deuteronomist is concerned, even Gentiles can worship at God's house. Joshua 22, by contrast, seems to presume that only Israelites can worship at the central sanctuary, and so the two-and-a-half tribes have to build a replicated altar to convince the rest of Israel that they (the two-and-a-half tribes) are indeed Israelites and thus have a right to worship at the central sanctuary.

I wondered then if P could be the author of Joshua 22.  For one, the phrase "God of gods" could fit P, since the Books of Chronicles, which supposedly reflect a priestly sort of ideology, use that sort of language at times.  Second, as Julius Wellhausen held, P assumed that sacrificial worship could only take place in the central sanctuary.  Third, Phinehas is a prominent player in Joshua 22, and Phinehas was the ancestor of the Zadokite priesthood.  The chapters in the Pentateuch that exalt Phinehas are (if I'm not mistaken) usually attributed to P.  But there is a problem.  According to Jo Ann Hackett (see my post here), P does not recognize the Transjordan as part of Israel.  Joshua 22, by contrast, does regard the Transjordanian tribes as full members of Israel.  Then I thought something: Phinehas is not exactly portrayed positively in Joshua 22, but rather as one who impulsively rushes to condemn the Transjordanian tribes, without full knowledge of the facts.  So I have my doubts that P wrote Joshua 22.

Who could have written Joshua 22?  It was probably written in a time when the sole legitimacy of the central sanctuary was largely accepted, or at least it was written by someone who may not have been a Deuteronomist himself, but who still agreed with the Deuteronomist idea that only one sanctuary was legitimate.  The one who wrote Joshua 22 probably disagreed with the priests who held that the Transjordan was not a part of Israel.  The writer of the chapter seems to be aware only of an exclusivist viewpoint that holds that God can only be sacrificially worshiped at the central sanctuary by actual Israelites.  The writer uses terminology for God that acknowledges the existence of other gods, which may reflect an early stage of Israelite thought, or it could be a remnant----as the Chronicler, a late (post-exilic) writer, uses that sort of language for God.  On how to put all this together and identify the author, well, that will require more thought!

Forsake Not the Assembling of Yourselves Together

Hebrews 10:23-25 states (in the King James Version): "Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;)And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works:  Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching."

A while back, someone at a church that I attended asked how often one would have to miss church before he or she technically forsakes "the assembling of ourselves together".  Why would he ask this?  I think it's because there are many who have left Armstrongism who find themselves in a state of exile, as they try to cultivate their relationship with God outside of a church structure.  But I'd also venture to say that even Armstrongism itself can cultivate a "lone-ranger Christian" mentality.  Overall, the Armstrongites believed that they alone had the full truth.  But not everyone who accepted Armstrongite doctrines lived close to an Armstrongite church, and they were not about to attend any nearby Sunday-keeping churches, for they considered those churches to be deceived!  Consequently, there were a number of lone-ranger Armstrongites who stayed home and rested on the Sabbath, as they listened to sermon-tapes from the church's headquarters.

But my impression is that all Armstrongites were expected to attend the Feast of Tabernacles.  There were feast sites in various parts of the country (even the world!), and many people associated with the church felt that God wanted them to take a trip to one of those sites and attend services there.

As I did my daily quiet time in the Book of Joshua recently, I thought about Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh, who lived in the Transjordan rather than where the rest of the Israelites dwelt, namely, the Promised Land.  Moses and Joshua told these two-and-a-half tribes that they could dwell in the Transjordan, but they still had to cross the Jordan River with the rest of the Israelites to help those Israelites to take possession of the Promised Land from the Canaanites.  Once Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh completed this task, they could return to their homes in the Transjordan.

Would the two-and-a-half tribes be cut off from the rest of Israel after they returned to the Transjordan?   They did set up a controversial altar close to the Transjordan, not for sacrifices, but to communicate that they were still a part of the larger body of Israel.  But they were still expected to offer sacrifices (Joshua 22:27), which would occur wherever the central sanctuary of Israel happened to be.  Presumably, they would still gather with the other Israelites three times a year, during the festivals (at least according to Pentateuchal ideals).

How often does one have to attend church to fulfill Hebrews 10:23-25?  The Israelites only gathered together as one body three times a year.  There, they would celebrate with their families while sharing their food with the vulnerable of society.  And they would remember their national history as God's people: their slavery in Egypt, the Exodus, their experiences in the wilderness, and God bringing them to the Promised Land.

But what about the rest of the year?  They wouldn't be with the entirety of Israel, but they would still be reminding themselves on a weekly basis about their identity as God's people, for they would keep the Sabbath.  They would also observe God's dietary laws and wear items that reminded them of who they were in relationship with God.  Did they gather with others throughout that time, however, albeit on a local basis?  I don't know.  Exodus 16 says that the Israelites on the Sabbath had to stay in their homes, and orthodox Jews still take that command as normative, which is why they have eruvim as a way to circumvent it and allow them to meet together.  At least some Israelites visited the prophet on the Sabbath (II Kings 4:23), and perhaps that was for a worship gathering.  Such passages as Isaiah 66:23 present a scenario of people gathering before God on the Sabbath.  And there were gatherings for worship outside of the central sanctuary, for Deuteronomy 16:7-8 seems to command local gatherings to celebrate the last Day of Unleavened Bread.  Maybe there were local gatherings for worship on the Sabbath.

But, even though not all Israelites may have gathered with others for worship on the Sabbath, three times a year is not exactly insignificant.  These festivals were significant events.  Israelites prepared for them throughout their seasons by sowing and reaping and setting apart their tithes and offerings.  They journeyed to the central sanctuary and rejoiced for a period of time.  It was not a forgettable event, in their minds, for they were salient times each year.

Back to Hebrews 10:23-25.  I'm not sure when one technically gets to the point where he or she is forsaking the assembly of the brethren.  Some act like missing one church meeting counts as that.  Others have a more liberal attitude.  What's important to me, however, is the principle behind assembling: coming together to support each other, encouraging each other to do good, reminding each other of his or her identity before God, helping people to avoid becoming hardened by the deceitfulness of sin, etc. 

The problem is that not everyone sees church as a place that does this.  They find church to be discouraging rather than encouraging.  They see as much vanity and pride and carnality in the church as they see in the world.  They feel more refreshed and in touch with God when they are alone reading a book, or when they are out in nature, than they do in church.  I don't think that it's my place to pressure other people on what they should or should not do.  I attend church, however, because it allows me to remind myself of God, plus it gives me an opportunity to get out of the house and be in a different setting.  I've gone through times when I have been in churches, and when I have been outside of them.  For myself, I prefer the former.

Joshua 4:9: The Underwater Memorial

In Joshua 4, the Israelites cross the Jordan River while it is parted, as the Levites stand in the midst of the Jordan upholding the Ark of the Covenant.  The Israelites carry twelve stones to the shore to build a memorial in Gilgal.  But another memorial of stones is built as well: in the middle of the Jordan River!  Joshua 4:9 states (in the King James Version): "And Joshua set up twelve stones in the midst of Jordan, in the place where the feet of the priests which bare the ark of the covenant stood: and they are there unto this day."  The Jordan River later in the chapter reverts to how it was before it parted.  Does that mean that the memorial in the midst of the Jordan was underwater?  How, then, could it be a memorial, since no one could see it?  Moreover, how would the person who wrote Joshua 4:9 even know that the memorial was in the midst of the Jordan in his own day?

The answer that I got repeatedly as I read commentaries was that there were times when the Jordan River was overflowing, and there were times when its water-level was not as high.  When the water-level was not as high, people could see the memorial.  Yet, as Keil-Delitzsch note, the memorial was probably not standing in the midst of the Jordan for centuries, for the streams would have dismantled it.  According to Keil-Delitzsch, it would be a memorial for that generation and perhaps its children, but not for those who lived centuries later.

I thought that Jimmy Swaggart's interpretation of Joshua 4:9 was interesting.  He commented in his Expositor's Study Bible: "The first memorial [in Gilgal] could, no doubt, be referred to as Jordan stones, but these spoken of in this Ninth Verse must be referred to as Wilderness stones.  These twelve stones buried on the bottom of the Jordan River, where the feet of the priests had stood, signify the death and burial of Israel's forty years of unbelief and sinning in the Wilderness.  The Lord is saying to Israel that that time is over, buried, out of sight, and forgotten, typical of all our sins in the past, that is, if we have properly trusted Christ (I Jn. 1:9)."

According to Swaggart, the stones used for the underwater memorial were from the wilderness.  Their being buried by the waters of the Jordan indicates that God has forgiven and forgotten the sins of the Israelites that they committed when they were in the wilderness.  I found this interpretation to be intriguing, although Swaggart was the only one I found who proposed it.  Is there anything backing it up?  Not really, for Joshua 4:9 does not say that the stones were from the wilderness.  Yet, the theme of Israel having a new beginning does exist in the Book of Joshua.  For example, in Joshua 5:9, the LORD tells Joshua that the LORD has rolled away from Israel the reproach of Egypt.

Crossing the Jordan and the Question of Miracles

In Joshua 3, the Israelites cross the Jordan River on dry ground.  God does this miracle to affirm before the Israelites that God is with Joshua, as God was with Moses.

But was it really a miracle?  The Intervarsity Press Bible Background Commentary says the following about Joshua 3:16-17:

"3:16 parting of the Jordan.  This is springtime (see 4:19), and the melting snow from the Anti-Lebanon mountains often creates a flood stage for the Jordan.  Mudslides as a result of flood waters undercutting the cliffs or from seismic activity occasionally interfere with the flow of the Jordan at the very place mentioned here in the text (once as recently as 1927).  Those recorded have generally blocked the Jordan for a couple of days."

"3:17. on dry ground.  There is an interesting inscription of Sargon II of Assyria (eighth century) where he claims that he led his army across the Tigris and Euphrates at flood stage as on dry ground."

Maybe there was a natural cause for the "miracle" in Joshua 3.  What's important, in my opinion, is that the Israelites felt that they were experiencing God in that situation.  After all, they were able to cross the Jordan right when they needed to cross it, which means that a natural event worked out in their favor.  That doesn't always happen in the world, and so it's understandable that people feel grateful whenever it does. 

I was one time talking about miracles with a couple of professors.  They had problems with viewing miracles as a suspension of natural law.  One of them defined a miracle as an event unusual enough that it raises a person's consciousness of the divine (or something to that effect).  I myself am reluctant to rule out the possibility that God breaks natural law at times, even though I understand why some deem that to be problematic: it strains credulity, and it raises the question of why God doesn't break natural laws more often to alleviate pain, suffering, and death.  But I'm also open to God working through nature rather than contrary to it.

Respecting Authority

"Your beliefs should be in line with your pastor's", the leader of a Bible study group I was in said in the group's first meeting of the school year.  "I believe in church authority, so the minister has a right to tell the church to read the Book of Joshua", an evangelical once told me.  I think all of that is bull, for such a mindset is authoritarianism, pure and simple, and it grossly disrespects my rights and my ability as an adult human being to make my own decisions.  But, as I read the Book of Joshua recently, I appreciated the concept of at least respecting authority, and of obeying it when I am in a group that is working on a task.

When Moses died and Joshua took over as the leader, Joshua had big shoes to fill.  It's not always easy for new leaders to enter into their role, for they have to gain the respect of the people and actually step forward and direct rather than sitting back and letting someone else do so.  Moreover, leadership can be a burden because every decision the leader makes can have consequences for others, for good or for ill.

But, fortunately, in Joshua 1, the tribes of Reuben and Gad, as well as the half-tribe of Manasseh, affirm their support for Joshua.  For one, they agree with Joshua's request that they fulfill their obligation of going into Canaan to help the other Israelites in battle, when these two-and-a-half tribes already had their inheritance in the Transjordan and thus would not gain any land for themselves in the Conquest.  This request was Joshua's first act of official leadership over Israel, and the two-and-a-half tribes cooperated with him.  But the two-and-a-half tribes also expressed their hope that God would be with Joshua as God was with Moses, and they said, "Whosoever he be that doth rebel against thy commandment, and will not hearken unto thy words in all that thou commandest him, he shall be put to death: only be strong and of a good courage" (Joshua 1:18 KJV).  That sounds pretty severe, but I've got to admire these two-and-a-half tribes for offering support and reassurance to Joshua when Joshua was a new, relatively inexperienced, and perhaps insecure leader.  In my opinion, the way that I should apply this story to my own life is by respecting, praying for, and offering support for my pastor.  Do I have to agree with him on everything?  I don't think so.  But I should at least respect him and his authority.

Another passage in the Book of Joshua that caught my eye was Joshua 3:3-4: "And they commanded the people, saying, When ye see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests the Levites bearing it, then ye shall remove from your place, and go after it.  Yet there shall be a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure: come not near unto it, that ye may know the way by which ye must go: for ye have not passed this way heretofore" (Joshua 3:3-4 KJV).  There's a practical application for me here, as well.  The Israelites in Joshua 3 could not afford to be know-it-alls, for they knew nothing about the route that they were about to travel, and so they needed to obey their leaders.   Similarly, there are times when I need to follow directions because of my own limitations in knowledge.  I'm not talking about a mindless fundamentalism, a notion that I should simply accept conservative Christian doctrines due to my own limitations in knowledge and a sense that someone's harsh version of God knows best.  Rather, I'm saying that there are people who know more than I do about certain issues, and so I should be open to their wisdom rather than being a know-it-all.

Completing Nelson's Commentary on Joshua

I finished Richard Nelson's commentary on the Book of Joshua.

1. Nelson talks about the distribution of the Promised Land among the tribes in the Book of Joshua, and he dates parts of that story to different times. One historical context that he posits is the "expansionistic reign of Josiah" (page 186). For Nelson, that the Book of Joshua had a southern provenance at some point in its history is evident in its starting with Judah when discussing the division of the Cisjordan (after it talks about Caleb's inheritance). Moreover, in Joshua 18:21-25, Northern Israelite cities (i.e., Bethel) are assigned to Benjamin, which was part of the Southern Kingdom. Nelson states that this reflects a time when "Judah controlled northeast Benjamin and southern Ephraim (Bethel, Ophrah), and such a time is probably the reign of Josiah, "whose reform touched not only Bethel, but included Geba" (page 214).

But Nelson argues that the Levitical cities in Joshua 21:1-42 must reflect a late date, for that section reflects the post-exilic practice of elevating the sons of Aaron above the other Levites (whereas the Deuteronomistic History did not distinguish among the Levites). Moreover, Nelson states that "there is no period after Solomon in which a single political structure would have actually controlled all the territory described here", but, because archaeology tells us "that many of these towns were not settled at the time of the United Monarchy", we cannot date the list to that time (pages 237-238). Nelson considers the list to be late and utopian, like Ezekiel 48's distribution of the land.

2. In Joshua 22, there is the story of the Israelite tribes in Gilead building a replica of the altar, which drew the anger of the Israelites in the CisJordan. But an understanding was reached between them, and Gilead was affirmed to be part of Israel. According to Nelson, xenophobia against the Transjordan probably emerged as a result of the Assyrians "adding further alien elements to the Ammonites and Moabites already present", as part of their "ethnic exchange policy" (page 250). Nelson states that Ezekiel 47:13-48:29 reflects the view that the Transjordan is not a part of Israel, for Ezekiel 47:18 distinguishes Gilead from Israel. Consequently, Nelson contends that Joshua 22 concerns questions that confronted Israel after its restoration: "Could Yahwists who lived outside the holy land participate in temple sacrifice or were they unclean (v. 17)? Were the offerings they brought products of an unclean land (v. 19)?" Joshua 22, like Psalm 60:7 and 108:8, affirms an inclusive view regarding Gilead.

3. There are passages in Joshua in which Israel is said to have conquered all of the land, whereas other parts suggest that there is more land for Israel to take. Deuteronomistic language actually appears in both kinds of passages, and so Nelson proposes that the Deuteronomist had a complex ideology on Conquest, which he inherited from Deuteronomy:

"According to Deut. 7:1-5, for example, the nations are to be wiped out, yet at the same time are to be carefully avoided. Deut. 11:22-25 asserts that the complete achievement of the conquest would depend on obedience as well as on divine promise." (page 259)

When obedience is placed into the equation, success becomes tentative!

For Nelson, the Deuteronomist presented the Conquest as total in order to glorify YHWH and to argue that the land indeed belongs to Israel, but he shifts gears to prepare the way for the Book of Judges, where the Israelites are religiously influenced by the Canaanites---resulting in Israel's ups and downs in the course of the book. We see this sort of thing elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible: "In the book of Kings as well, the historian admits the continued presence of alien elements (1 Kings 9:20-21), yet faithfully asserts that Yahweh dispossessed them (1 Kings 14:24; 2 Kings 15:3)" (page 260).

4. On page 269, Nelson is discussing the pledge of allegiance that the Israelites make to YHWH in Joshua 24. (Nelson says later, on page 277, that there is nothing in Joshua 24 about God's obligations to Israel, for God has already fulfilled his side of the bargain through his past actions on her behalf.) This occurs at Shechem, and Nelson notes that Shechem is often associated with loyalty to YHWH. In Genesis 35:2-4, for example, Shechem is where Jacob buries the idols that his family has forsaken. I wonder if Genesis 34 (the story of Dinah) could be relevant to this, since that is about the possibility of Israelite intermarriage with the Shechemites---which did not occur. Intermarriage can lead to idolatry, but Simeon and Levi kept that from happening when they slaughtered the Shechemites and took possession of the area themselves.

I thought that this book was all right, but I particularly enjoyed the introduction, for that was where Nelson argued that the Conquest was not historically accurate, and yet the Book of Joshua played a significant role in the theology and identity of Israel. Usually, when people make those sorts of claims, they sound rather hairy, for I wonder how stories that did not happen could provide inspiration for anyone. But the Israelites believed that they did happen, according to Nelson. And the stories inspired Israel to praise YHWH and to reassure themselves when they were unsure that the land was in their grasp---and even after they had lost the land.

Benjaminite Joshua Stories, Cherem Loopholes, Sun and Moon Standing Still

I'm continuing my way through Richard Nelson's commentary on the Book of Joshua. I have three items for today.

1. On the story of Achan in the Book of Joshua (Joshua 7), Nelson states: "Because wicked Achan is so clearly identified with a notable family of Judah (v. 1), and because Achor forms part of the border between Judah and Benjamin (15:7), the story of Achan's grave in 'Taboo Valley' probably began its life as an anti-Judah polemic by Benjamin." In its present context, however, its goal is to "discourage misconduct." Indeed, Nelson thinks that Benjamin played a role behind the origin of parts of the Book of Joshua. On page 111, he says regarding Ai that "The imposing ruin on the road between Jericho and Bethel would be a natural focus for a Benjaminite conquest tradition once such stories began to develop." And, a few days ago, I discussed an article by Moshe Weinfeld, which affirmed that Joshua 10 contains stories from the tribe of Benjamin because it focuses on Gilgal, Ai, Jericho, and Gibeon, which were in Benjamin's inheritance (but I can't find where Gilgal is said to belong to Benjamin). Were these Benjaminite stories intended to glorify Saul, who was from Benjamin, by giving Benjamin a prominent role in the Conquest?

2. An issue that came up throughout my reading today is loopholes in the cherem. Deuteronomy presents God commanding Israel to slaughter everyone in Canaan, and forbidding her to make any agreement with the Canaanites. Yet, the Israelites make an agreement to spare Rahab and the tribe of Gibeon. Nelson acknowledges that the Deuteronomist has a hand in these stories, through Dtr's later additions, but Nelson thinks that the stories initially functioned as etiologies to explain the existence of the Rahab tribe as well as the Gibeonites and the lowly servants in the temple. Nelson states that the story of the Gibeonites taught Israel how to deal with the remaining Canaanites: to tolerate them, yet to distrust them (for the Gibeonites lied) and to subjugate them. Nelson may think that the Deuteronomist was making the most of passages that contradicted his notion of Conquest, and he says that the Deuteronomistic layer of the Rahab story portrays her as a convert.

My impression is that John Van Seters' approach is different: Van Seters believes that Dtr wrote one layer of the Book of Joshua, and that the subsequent Yahwistic layer featured Rahab, in according with J's universalist viewpoint. I do not know for sure what Van Seters says about the Gibeonites, but perhaps he thinks that Dtr had a nationalistic belief in a complete conquest, but that J tempered that with his more universalist outlook. Nelson, however, appears to take at face value the biblical stories about Canaanites existing in the time of Solomon, and, like many scholars, he dates the Deuteronomist later than that, at least to the time of Josiah (and, by the way, Nelson alludes to more parallels between Joshua and Josiah, such as both of them tearing their garments out of concern for their people, and both of them holding a covenant ceremony). So Nelson can envision pre-Dtr stories cropping up to explain the continuing existence of the Canaanites, a situation that was especially prominent in the time of Solomon.

3. On pages 143-145, Nelson discusses different ideas about the sun and the moon standing still in Joshua 10. Did Joshua command the sun and the moon to do this in order to prolong the daylight so that Israel could continue the battle? Was Joshua inviting the sun and the moon to assist him in battle, as heavenly bodies did (Judges 5:10; Habakkuk 3:11)---plus, the sun and the moon could smite people, according to Psalm 121:6? Were the sun and the moon blocking escape routes, since the sun was over Gibeon and the moon was over the Aijalon valley? Were the sun and the moon standing still a means to symbolize and induce victory, like Moses holding out his arms during Israel's battle with Amalek (Exodus 17)? Or were the sun and the moon standing in awe at YHWH's glory (Habakkuk 3:11)? Personally, I think the view that they stood still to give Israel more daylight makes most sense. It sounds practical.

Within Joshua 10, we see Joshua commanding the sun and the moon to stand still, as well as the statement that the LORD hearkened to Joshua by making them do so, as if Joshua called on the LORD, not the sun and the moon. According to Nelson, we see here an occurrence of Deuteronomistic redaction: "Because calling upon heavenly beings falls considerably outside the horizon of deuteronomistic orthodoxy ([Joshua] 23:7, 16; Deut. 17:3; 2 Kings 23:5, 11), the redactor (presumably DH) has directed Joshua's speech away from sun and moon and toward Yahweh."

Starting Nelson's Commentary on Joshua

I started Richard Nelson's commentary on the Book of Joshua. I have three items.

1. Nelson does not believe that the Book of Joshua presents an accurate account of the Conquest, for the same reasons that many biblical scholars reject the historicity of the Conquest (see here). But he does maintain that the Book of Joshua contains what people thought happened to their ancestors---which contradicts the usual platitude that says that the biblical authors did not intend to write history, but something else entirely (e.g., an allegory, though I rarely hear what the alleged allegory is supposed to represent). In the early Iron Age, there were two groups of people, according to Nelson:

"In the lowlands was the established, elitist culture of the city-states with their kings and chariots. At the same time, an alternate social system was developing in the highlands. This was an egalitarian, rural village culture, without the social stratification that comes with being organized as a state. It depended on a largely self-contained economy based on farming and herding." (Page 4).

This community in the highlands was Israel. According to Nelson, the people who became Israelites may have been pastoralists who settled down and pursued agriculture, or perhaps they came from the Canaanite city-states. But their material culture overlaps with that of Late Bronze Canaan---and even the "epigraphic finds utilize the Canaanite alphabet" (page 3)---so they most likely were indigenous to Canaan, rather than people who came from the outside, as the Book of Joshua depicts.

As Judges 5 (the Song of Deborah) indicates, there was conflict between the Israelites in the highlands and the Canaanites in the lowlands. For Nelson, the Book of Joshua served to unify the Israelites and give them an identity. It allowed them to celebrate YHWH as their Divine Warrior and to lay claim to the land of Canaan, even as outsiders, for "It is common for traditions of national origin to speak of immigration from another place, as Israel itself was aware (Genesis 10; Amos 9:7" (page 5). The Conquest in the Book of Joshua also reflects ancient Israel's xenophobia, and the Book of Joshua long resonated with Israelites because their possession of the land was continually at risk---due to Canaanites and foreigners. During the time of the monarchy, the Book of Joshua provided Israel with a "unified narrative of origins" (page 5). And the Book of Joshua continued to be relevant even during the exile, as it reminded Israel that God gave her the gift of land, which she forfeited through her disobedience.

According to Nelson, the Book of Joshua also served an etiological function, in that it offered a story that accounted for aspects of ancient Israel's life: the presence of a foreign Rahab clan, ruins of Canaanite cities, a tomb of Achan, etc. For Nelson, the people who created the Book of Joshua drew from traditions uncritically to produce a narrative.

2. On page 29, Nelson argues that the Deuteronomistic contribution to Joshua 1 portrays Joshua using royal concepts, perhaps "to create parallels between the figures of Joshua and Josiah." YHWH's charge in Joshua 1:1-9 resembles David's charge to Solomon in I Kings 2:2-4. Joshua is also to meditate on the law of the LORD, like the ideal Deuteronomic king (Deuteronomy 17:18-19), and the uncompromising obedience to him by the eastern tribes, his responsibility for the military success of Israel, and the legitimation of his authority by the LORD's presence also echo biblical stories about kings. The idea here may be that the Deuteronomist wanted to promote Josiah, and so he added details to the respected story of Joshua in order to make Joshua into a Josiah-like figure.

3. Nelson's textual critical model appears to be to look at the MT and the LXX and to eliminate additions that each seems to have made. There are things in the LXX that are not in the MT, and vice versa, and Nelson may presume that the simplest text was the early one, whether it is in the LXX or the MT.

An example of Nelson's methodology occurs in his exegesis of Joshua 5. Joshua 5:11 affirms that the Israelites ate unleavened cakes and parched corn, but the MT ties that to the Passover, whereas the LXX does not. Nelson treats the part about the Passover as an addition. Joshua 5 still has a Passover, for v 10 mentions it, even in the LXX. But the connection between the Passover and the unleavened bread is something that the MT adds to Joshua 5, according to Nelson.

My Old Origen Posts

I wrote some posts on Origen in November for my weekly quiet time, which was then on the Book of Joshua. I did not publish them because I was saving them for a slow day, when I'd have no idea what to write about. But I don't have too many of those. Sometimes, I have tons of ideas, but I can only touch on a few of them on a given day. So I might as well publish my thoughts on Origen right now.

In my first post, I talk as if I'll be writing tons of stuff on Origen. But that's not what happened, since I only wrote two posts. There were days when I thought, "I should write about this," but I didn't get around to it. And, right now, I forget what the topic was that I was going to write about. And I'm not in the mood to comb through Origen trying to find it.

Enjoy these posts! I'll be writing some more today on other topics, so stay tuned!

Origen

Ehud: Reluctant Zealot or Idolater?

In Judges 3:18-19, we read the following about Ehud, the judge who defeated Israel's Moabite oppressors:

"When Ehud had finished presenting the tribute, he sent the people who carried the tribute on their way. But he himself turned back at the sculptured stones near Gilgal, and said, 'I have a secret message for you, O king.' So the king [of Moab] said, 'Silence!' and all his attendants went out from his presence" (NRSV).

The word translated as "sculptured stones" is pesilim, which is often used in the Hebrew Bible for idols (Deuteronomy 7:25; Isaiah 21:9; Jeremiah 51:47; Micah 1:7).

So what was Ehud doing at a site of idols? And what role does it play in the story? There are two possibilities that I encountered in my study:

1. Ehud, along with an entourage, gives a gift to King Eglon of Moab. Afterwards, Ehud escorts the others in his party to Gilgal, which forms a boundary between Moab and Israel. When he sees the idols at Gilgal, which was Israel's site of encampment and worship in the days of Joshua (Joshua 4-5), he becomes outraged at Eglon's disregard for Israel's traditions, history, and god. He then returns to Eglon's palace and kills him.

The first time that Ehud visited Eglon--when he and the others were presenting their gift--Ehud concealed a dagger under his clothes (Judges 3:16). Was he planning to kill Eglon on the first visit, only to chicken out? And did seeing the idols in Gilgal motivate him to go back and do what needed to be done?

If this is true, then it's profound that something gave timid Ehud the strength and courage to risk his life. And he was risking his life. Sure, he found a way to get the king's assistants out of the throne room, which gave him an opportunity to kill the king. Then, he successfully escaped. But did he know going in that he would be successful? What if the king didn't buy into his trick? What if the guards decided to stay in the throne room? What if someone spotted Ehud as he was trying to escape? Ehud was facing a lot of dangerous contingencies.

Yet, in this scenario, his passionate zeal for God and Israel gave him strength. I'm reminded of that scene in Punch Drunk Love, in which Adam Sandler says to people who are threatening him, "I have a woman (Emily Watson), and that makes me strong." Well, in Ehud's case, his love for God and his nation made him strong. I am often timid, and I wonder if something (or someone) outside of myself can give me this kind of courage.

2. Ehud goes to Gilgal to worship the idols. E.W. Bullinger goes further when he suggests that they actually were Ehud's idols. (For Bullinger, they were like the ones in Gilgal, not actually in that location.) In this scenario, Ehud was not perfect, yet God used him anyway.

We see similar scenarios throughout the Book of Judges. Gideon made his ephod an object of idolatry (Judges 8:27). Samson was far from perfect. The tribe of Dan had its problems. In the days of the judges, Israel often did what was right in her own eyes (Judges 17:6; 18:1; 19:1; 21:25). Still, God worked with her.

In Judges 3, God may even have delivered Israel through a non-Israelite. In v 31, we read of Shamgar, the son of Anath, who killed 600 Philistines with an oxgoad. Shamgar is a non-Israelite name, and Anath was the name of a Canaanite goddess. Did God use a Gentile to free his people? Wouldn't we expect him to use a righteous Israelite? Perhaps God does not always work in conventional ways!

The notion that God uses imperfect people is encouraging and discouraging at the same time. On the one hand, it gives me the hope that God can use even me. God wants to give glory to himself, not his messengers. By using imperfect people, God shows that he is the one doing the work. And he reveals to us his grace and love, for he meets us where we are.

On the other hand, God's imperfect messengers can also be a turnoff. We don't like people who proclaim the power of the Gospel and tell others how to live their lives, only to sin grossly in their own personal conduct. That casts doubt on the power of the Gospel. It presents God's way as unattainable. And it strikes us as utterly depraved. Speaking about the hypocrisy of many Jews (or, according to some scholars, Gentile converts to Judaism), Paul says, "The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you" (Romans 2:24).

But how can we not be hypocrites? We all fall short of what we believe to be righteous. We are only human.

But perhaps Ehud didn't think that he was behaving unrighteously. If this scenario is true, maybe he did what he was accustomed to doing. Ehud left the king in a state of timidity, went to Gilgal to gain strength through worship, and returned to kill the king. Sure, he was worshipping God imperfectly, but God was working through him anyway. And God planned to reveal more of his way to him at just the right time.

My Judges Quiet Times So Far

I haven't posted about my weekly quiet time for a while. I recently finished the Book of Joshua, and now I'm reading the Book of Judges. Here are a few thoughts:

1. Adoni-bezek was a powerful king in Canaan. In Judges 1, the people of Judah capture him at Bezek, and they cut off his thumb and his big toes. But Adoni-bezek doesn't whine and complain. Rather, he acknowledges that he deserves what he's getting. He says with stoic gravity, "Seventy kings with their thumbs and big toes cut off used to pick up scraps under my table; as I have done, so God has paid me back" (Judges 1:7 NRSV).

That reminds me of an incident I had this week. Incidentally, it occurred the same day that I had my Conversation with a Muslim. I was talking with someone in my apartment complex who was at Woodstock. He kind of looked like that punk on The Accused, the guy who was cheering the rapists on. (I told him that, and he replied that he looked more like Al Pacino.) But, in any case, he used a lot of drugs in his younger years, and his health was suffering as a result. He may have said that he had cancer, I don't remember.

He alluded to the cliche that "there are no atheists in foxholes," and he said that a lot of people who don't believe in God still blame him or turn to him when they run into a crisis. But he said that he didn't do that. When a nurse told him that he had cancer, he asked her for a mirror and then shouted at himself for being so stupid. As far as he was concerned, he was reaping the consequences of his actions.

I probably should have told him about Adoni-bezek. Instead, I told him, "Yeah, that's one way to look at it. People who don't believe in God don't have anyone to blame. They don't expect life to be fair." But, ironically, this guy was acknowledging the fairness of life, for he maintained that he was reaping what he had sowed.

There's a certain strength to that, as there was a certain strength in Adon-bezek's confession. I can't say that I'm that strong, but I do admire that kind of detached self-reflection.

2. On the subject of Gentile kings, I'm in Judges 3 right now, and v 20 is rather interesting: "Ehud came to [Eglon], while he was sitting alone in his cool roof chamber, and said, 'I have a message from God for you.' So he rose from his seat."

Most of the E-Sword commentaries I read say that Eglon rose out of reverence for God. Here was a wicked Gentile autocrat, yet he could muster up some respect for God. That's more than we can say about Israel in the Hebrew Bible!

So why did Eglon fear God? Probably because he himself was a king, so he had a deep respect for power. And who is more powerful than God?

He reminds me somewhat of the centurion in Matthew 8, who said to Jesus, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes, and to another, 'Come,' and he comes, and to my slave, 'Do this,' and the slave does it."

The centurion had a regard for Jesus' power because of the power that he himself exercised as a centurion.

But, of course, there's a difference between the centurion and Eglon. The centurion had mercy and love for his fellow man. He interceded with Jesus on behalf of his slave. He obviously didn't view his servant as a dog! Eglon, by contrast, admired God's power, but not his love. And so he was merciless in his dealings with those he conquered.

And perhaps Israel, by contrast, took God's love for granted, for she did not hesitate to sin against him. There wasn't much fear holding her back! Or maybe she didn't take God's love for her seriously enough. If Israel had contemplated the love that God demonstrated when he freed her from Egypt and provided for her in the wilderness, she would have been more reluctant to sin.

3. Judges 1-3 tries to explain why God left the Canaanites in the Promised Land. And it gives all sorts of answers: Israel didn't kill them all, God was punishing Israel for her idolatry, God wanted to test Israel, and God desired for this new generation of Israelites to learn the art of war.

But what strikes me is Judges 2:3: "I will not drive them out before you; but they shall become adversaries to you, and their gods shall be a snare to you."

This is what's weird: Israel sinned by worshipping the gods of Canaan. And so God punishes Israel by leaving the Canaanites in the land, allowing their gods to become a spiritual snare to Israel. But, if God doesn't want Israel to worship the Canaanite gods, why make the gods a continuing snare to her? Isn't God making the situation worse by leading Israel into temptation?

Maybe that's how God acts on certain occasions. Romans 1 talks about God giving the sinful Gentiles up to further depravity after they failed to acknowledge him as God. God doesn't always deliver people from sin. If they are determined to continue on their path, God may hand them over to deeper depravity.

And, yet, other voices in Judges say that God wanted to make Israel better. God was giving Israel an explicit choice between him and the gods of Canaan. That's his test (Judges 2:22)! After all, how can we spiritually grow without a choice between good and evil? One sermon I heard on Judges 2 referred to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden: Even in paradise, God gave people a choice, an opportunity to trust in him (through obedience) and exercise their moral faculties. This preacher even said that this is why God doesn't eliminate the sinful nature once we become Christians. There is still some corruption within us because God wants us to choose him.

At first sight, this looks different from the message of Joshua, which is "Kill all the Canaanites!" Christian preachers conclude from Joshua that we should try to destroy sin, since it can trip us up. But, in their exposition of Judges, by contrast, they see a purpose behind our sinful nature: to give us a choice, a chance to struggle against evil and choose good.

I guess that Joshua gives us the goal--perfect righteousness--whereas Judges describes the present reality--choice and struggle. God could destroy evil right here and right now if he wanted to do so--within us and the larger world. But he leaves it so that we can learn the value of his way, as opposed to the disastrous nature of sin. But God will one day destroy all of evil, as the Book of Joshua foreshadows.

Why Didn't God Do It Right the First Time?

I haven't written about my weekly quiet time for some time. I'm still in the Book of Joshua. And, since I study a chapter a week, I have five weeks to go.

I studied Joshua 19 last week. What really caught my eye was v 9: "The inheritance of the tribe of Simeon formed part of the territory of Judah; because the portion of the tribe of Judah was too large for them, the tribe of Simeon obtained an inheritance within their inheritance" (NRSV).

Why did the tribe of Judah get more territory than it needed? God's the one giving out the land, is he not? Couldn't he have gotten the division right?

This detail of Joshua 19 reminds me of other things in the book. In Joshua 17:14-18, the tribe of Joseph complains to Joshua about its inheritance. "This amount of land is too small for us," its representatives said. "We're too numerous to live here!" And Joshua told them: "You want more land? Then go get it! A lot of land is still out there for the taking. But you have to take it from the dreadful Canaanites."

Also, in Joshua 19, the author says that the tribe of Dan took Leshem. Judges 18 tells the story more explicitly, and it says that Dan did so because it got no inheritance of its own (v 1). But Joshua 19 states that Dan did get an inheritance: it was near Ephraim and the Shephelah, where the Philistines dwelt. And Judges 18 seems to have knowledge that Dan was there at some point, for v 2 presents Danites in Eshtaol and Zorah, which Joshua 19:41 says that Dan inherited. And so the King James Version tries to clarify Judges 18:1 or to harmonize it with Joshua 19. It renders the passage, "for unto that day all their inheritance had not fallen unto them among the tribes of Israel." "All their" is not in the text, meaning that the KJV translators are supplying it. The implication may be that the Danites did not get all of the inheritance that they should have at the division. And so the translators appear to read Judges 18:1 in light of similar situations in the Book of Joshua: God divided up the land, but, for some reason, the division had problems.

But the problematic division ended up helping people. Judah had an opportunity to share land with Simeon, which became a loyal ally to Judah (Judges 1:3). Judah called Simeon his brother, and the two worked together to defeat the Canaanites. One could ask, "Why didn't God only give Judah the land that it needed? God's obviously not an efficiency expert, here!" Yet, the way God did things gave Judah a chance to be generous and fostered a special bond between two tribes.

Joseph didn't get as much land as it needed, and that gave it a chance to step forward in faith and claim more land for itself. Joseph got an opportunity to dream and to exercise faith amidst seemingly insurmountable challenges. Those Canaanites had chariots, whereas the Israelites did not. But, as Oprah Winfrey once said, "No test, no testimony!" Joseph's bad inheritance allowed it to experience God in ways that it otherwise would not have.

The same goes for Dan, assuming that the KJV translators interpreted Judges 18:1 correctly. But another interesting detail is this: It was good that Dan was not living way up north in the time of the Judges. Because Samson the Danite lived near the Shephelah, he got to beat up on the Philistines, the oppressors of Israel. And Samson really crippled them, especially when he destroyed their house. The Israelites could experience God's salvation in a special way because Samson lived near the Shephelah. Dan was right where it was supposed to be, at the time when it was supposed to be there.

I often wonder why God allows so much inequality. Why does he bless some people with more talents and resources than others? The way God does things may look messy to us, but God can work all out for good. God is interested in our character. He wants to stretch us. If he did everything according to our standard of perfect efficiency, then we'd have no opportunities to grow. We'd also miss out on deeper experiences of him and his goodness.

Caleb the Goy

The Pentateuch and the Book of Joshua have a lot of good things to say about Caleb. According to Numbers 13-14, he was one of the people who spied out the Promised Land in the time of Moses. While most of the other spies were afraid of the giants and tall fortifications in the land, Caleb was undeterred. He told the Israelites that they could take it over, despite the strength of the enemy, for God was on their side. Because the Israelites gave in to panic, God condemned them to wander in the wilderness for forty years. There, they would die, without ever entering the Promised Land. God promised that Caleb, on the other hand, would enter and possess it, for he followed God wholeheartedly.

In Joshua 14-15, Caleb, now an old man, is about to take his possession. He feels as strong as he did forty-five years earlier, when he first spied out the land. Even in old age, he is unafraid of the giants and high walls of Canaan. Inspired by the promise of God, he goes into Hebron and takes it for himself.

What is interesting is that Caleb is not even a full Israelite, for he is the son of Jephunneh, a Kenezite (Numbers 32:12; Joshua 14:6). The Kenezites came from the line of Esau (Genesis 15:19; 36:11, 15, 42), and they eventually associated themselves with Judah (Numbers 13:6).

Why does the Hebrew Bible present the heroic deeds of someone who is not a full Israelite? For many Christians, the importance of Gentiles in the Old Testament foreshadowed the time when God would include them in his new covenant. In the New Testament, God invites the Gentiles to become full members of his covenant people, without the requirement of circumcision. While the Hebrew Bible emphasizes God's relationship with a specific nation, physical Israel, the new covenant creates a new community, in which Jews and Gentles are equal participants. For a lot of Christians throughout history, the presence of righteous Gentiles in the Old Testament indicated that God would one day allow the Gentiles to become a part of his people, without joining physical Israel through circumcision and Torah observance.

As a Christian, I do not thoroughly dismiss this claim, for the Hebrew Bible seems to suggest that even a Gentile can have a relationship with God and experience God's favor. Besides Caleb, Rahab and Naaman the Syrian are good examples of this theme. At the same time, from a scholarly perspective, I'd like to understand the Hebrew Bible on its own terms. The historical-critical method tries to interpret the biblical writings in terms of how they spoke to their original historical contexts. That means that there are other ways to approach the Hebrew Bible than projecting Christian beliefs onto it. And one of those ways is to read the biblical stories in light of themes that appear in the Hebrew Bible itself.

So could there be other explanations for the Hebrew Bible's admiration of Caleb, a Gentile? A possible agenda of the biblical authors was to account for their present reality. Descendants of Caleb occupied Hebron as late as the time of David (I Samuel 25:3; 30:14), and the biblical authors perhaps wanted to explain how they got there. They couldn't say that they were Canaanites because the Calebites had a strong connection with Israel and her god. And they couldn't say that they were full-fledged Israelites because the Calebites understood themselves as Kenezites. Therefore, they included a story about Caleb getting land in Canaan as part of the Israelite invasion.

Biblical authors may also want to valorize Caleb and other Gentiles to make the Israelites look bad. Their goal was not to imply that the Gentiles would replace the Israelites as God's chosen people, however, but rather to shame the Israelites into doing the right thing. "Even these non-chosen Gentiles follow me better than you do, O Israel, my very chosen people," the biblical authors can envision God saying. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Repent!"

And, even in the Hebrew Bible, there is a stream that encourages the Gentiles to worship the God of Israel. It occurs throughout the Book of Psalms and in the Book of Isaiah. And Solomon's dedication of the temple says, "Likewise when a foreigner, who is not of your people Israel, comes from a distant land because of your name--for they shall hear of your great name, your mighty hand, and your outstretched arm--when a foreigner comes and prays toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place, and do according to all that the foreigner calls to you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel, and so that they may know that your name has been invoked on this house that I have built" (I Kings 8:41-43 NRSV). So the emphasis on Caleb's valor may have reminded Israel of her role as a priest to the nations. Perhaps it encouraged Gentiles to worship the LORD. Or it might have assured resident aliens within Israel that they could do great things, even if they were not Israelites by birth.

Christians can read the biblical stories about righteous Gentiles in light of their beliefs concerning God's overall plan, namely, to include the Gentiles as part of the church. But the righteous Gentile can also play a part in the Israelite ideologies of the Hebrew Bible. There, physical Israel has a significant role in God's activity.

The Encouragement of the Scriptures

In both the Torah and the Book of Joshua, there's a story about Reuben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh. These two-and-a-half tribes really liked the Transjordan, and they wanted their inheritance to be in that area rather than in Canaan. Moses replied that this was fine, as long as they helped the other tribes in their conquest of the Promised Land.

Origen saw this whole episode allegorically. He notes that Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh are all firstborn sons (albeit of different mothers), and he also observes that they received their inheritance under Moses. Consequently, Origen concludes these these two-and-a-half tribes represent the Old Testament saints, who (like firstborn sons) preceded New Testament Christians and were justified through their obedience to the Mosaic law. For Origen, the rest of the tribes symbolize Christians, who receive their inheritance through Jesus, the Greek word for Joshua. According to Origen, the Old Testament saints assist Christians in their struggle to overcome sin and live righteous lives.

How do they do this? Through the encouragement of the Scriptures. Origen gives some specifics:

"Consider how those who were justified by the Law before the coming of Jesus Christ my Lord come to my aid as I struggle today in the trials of this life and strive against enemies--that is, against contrary authorities. Consider how Isaiah furnishes me aid when he illumines me with the words of his text. Consider Jeremiah coming to our aid, well-girded and unencumbered, putting to flight the most violent enemies, the gloom of my heart, with the javelins of his volume. Also Daniel is well-armed for our aid, instructing and forewarning us about the presence and reign of Christ, and about the future deceit of the Antichrist. Ezekiel is present, signifying to us the heavenly mysteries in fourfold circles of wheels and 'a wheel confined in a wheel.' Hosea leads twelve squandrons of a prophetic band, and all advance with 'their loins girded with truth,' which they proclaim to aid their brothers so that, instructed by their writings, we may not be ignorant of devilish designs" (Homily 3 in Homilies on Joshua).

Origen sounds a lot like Joel Osteen and other evangelicals in his description of spiritual warfare. For him, life has a lot of trials, and Christians need all the encouragement they can get as they battle inner depression. They get this encouragement through the Old Testament.

I identify with what Origen is saying. When I was at DePauw University (my undergraduate institution), I wrestled with my usual problems of shyness, insecurity, alienation, depression, and resentment. One Friday night, I felt led to read the Book of Jeremiah, so I grabbed my Bible and a notebook and headed to the school library. I reserved my own room so that I could have some personal time with the Lord, and I started to read the Book of Jeremiah. After a few chapters, I would write down a summary of what I had read, allowing the details to settle more firmly in my mind.

Jeremiah really helped me. Here was a person who felt inadequate, insecure, timid, lonely, tired, and resentful. God had to assure Jeremiah repeatedly that he was with him and was working his situation out for good, despite the persecution that Jeremiah was receiving (even from his own family). The Book was an encouragement to me because Jeremiah faced problems, was honest about them, and got help from a sovereign and loving God.

But Origen presents another way that the Scriptures can encourage: we can forget our problems by focusing more on God's glory, which includes the reign of Christ and the splendor of God's heavenly realm. Add to this God's character of love and goodness. God is bigger than us and our problems. I think that God showed Ezekiel his heavenly chariot to give him courage for the days ahead. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel was about to face a lot of persecution, and he needed to know in his mind who was really in charge.

I have one problem with Origen's interpretation, however: I am not fully convinced that the Old Testament saints were justified through their obedience to the law. Sure, there are passages that Origen can cite to support this position. II Kings 23:25 says, for instance, that Josiah obeyed the Law of Moses with his whole heart and soul. At the same time, the New Testament presents justification by the law as an impossibility. Paul says in Acts 13:39, "And by [Jesus] all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses." Peter rhetorically asks in Acts 15:10, "Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?" I'm not sure how to reconcile these two concepts, but I do know that the Old Testament has encouraged me, as Origen asserts. On some level, the grace that God showed to the Old Testament saints has helped me throughout my Christian life.

Origen: My Bad Experience

Most of my readers probably know that I do a weekly quiet time. Every Friday evening, I read a chapter of the Bible and several commentaries--Jewish, Christian, and historical-critical. Unfortunately, one group of writers that I have neglected has been the ancient church fathers, who lived during the first five centuries of Christian history. I have sought to correct this deficiency in my study of Joshua by reading Origen's homilies on the book.

Origen was a church father who lived in the second-third centuries C.E. When I first read him, I didn't really like him that much. It was my first year at Harvard Divinity School, and I felt very alone and alienated, for a variety of reasons. I was looking for spiritual food that would assure me of God's love, and I found it in the writings of Martin Luther, Philip Yancey, Madeleine L' Engle, and (ironically) Jonathan Edwards. I decided to seek this kind of edification in Origen's Homilies on Leviticus. I had always liked Leviticus, and I hadn't read much of Origen, so maybe I could be edified by this wise church father.

But I was disappointed. He came across as, well, legalistic. There really wasn't much about God's love or grace in his sermons. His homilies didn't try to connect the sacrifices with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ or God's loving desire to reconcile humanity to himself. Rather, he seemed to advocate what my dad calls "bootstrap religion," the idea that people need to become righteous through their own efforts, as opposed to letting go and letting God. For Origen, the sacrifices symbolized the need for Christians to cleanse themselves of sin. Origen also appeared to have ascetic tendencies. I didn't identify with any of this. I tried to cleanse myself of sin and continually failed. I could not get rid of my resentment, jealousy, insecurity, depression, and extreme introversion. That was why I liked authors who said that God loves me unconditionally. I was thirsty for affirmation in the midst of my loneliness.

I wondered how a pro-grace activist like Luther viewed Origen. Most of what I read in Luther's Commentary on Galatians appeared to be either positive or neutral about this church father, and a student in ancient Christianity at Harvard told me that Luther actually liked Origen. Sometime later, I read a quote by Luther that was critical of Origen's allegories, for he said that Origen hardly ever interpreted the Bible in light of the Gospel. For Luther, the Gospel meant justification by grace through faith, apart from works. "Bingo!" I thought. If only I had read this when I was at Harvard! Then I would have been comforted that someone else read Origen the same way I did.

I don't remember much from Origen's Homilies on Leviticus. If Origen emphasized the church in that book as much as he does in his Joshua homilies, then I would not have identified with what he was saying, since my faith was rather private. I was your quintessential "lone ranger Christian." I do recall Origen saying that atonement can come through death. I didn't know what to make of this, but I have found the same concept in Jewish writings.

I now like some of what Origen has to say, and I will be more specific about this in future posts. People change, and so does their reading. When I first read Origen, I assumed that I needed to agree with him 100% to be edified. Now, I'm more willing to disagree and articulate to myself the reasons that certain concepts don't mesh with me. That whole process is educational in that I learn more about myself, and (strangely enough) it can be edifying.

What Is the "Rest" of Hebrews 3-4?

When I was living in Massachusetts, the pastor of my church was doing a series entitled "Crossing the Jordan." He said that a lot of hymns and spirituals treat the Promised Land as a symbol for heaven. For him, that cannot be the case, for the Israelites did not experience bliss after they crossed the Jordan. Rather, they encountered enemies and battles. For my pastor, the Promised Land is a symbol for Christian sanctification, which includes the struggle against sin.

Incidentally, in my weekly quiet time on the Book of Joshua, I found that Chuck Missler said the same thing. I'm not sure if I agree with my pastor and Chuck Missler on this point. My reason is that the Promised Land is often presented as a place of rest, happiness, and prosperity. Sure, the Israelites had to fight to possess it, but they eventually had rest from all of their enemies (Joshua 21:44). So I can easily see the Promised Land as a symbol for the bliss of heaven, or (for Armstrongites who don't believe people go to heaven) wherever the saints will receive their future reward.

When I read Hebrews 3-4, however, I get more confused. What is the "rest" of Hebrews 3-4? Is it heaven, or is it a spiritual state that the saints can possess in this life? I can see the author of Hebrews 3-4 meaning something like the following: "You must keep having faith, or you will miss out on your heavenly reward, as the Israelites under Moses missed out on the Promised Land through their unbelief." After all, Hebrews 11 emphasizes the Old Testament saints' desire for a heavenly country (see vv 14-16), so heaven is in the author's thoughts.

At the same time, there are verses that seem to present the rest as a current spiritual reality. For example, Hebrews 4:10-11 says, "For he that is entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own works, as God did from his. Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest, lest any man fall after the same example of unbelief." So the rest seems to be a present state of cessation from work. Christians have used other New Testament writings in their attempts to elucidate what this means. They refer to Jesus' promise of inner rest for all who come to him (Matthew 11:28-30), or they cite the Pauline doctrine that people become righteous by faith, apart from works (Romans 4:5; Ephesians 2:8-6).

But I have problems with this approach. For one, I wonder if we should use Matthew and Paul to understand Hebrews. As much as possible, I think that we should allow Hebrews to speak with its own voice. Second, Hebrews 4:11 exhorts Christians to labor for their rest. The rest that Jesus and Paul discuss, by contrast, appears to be a free gift that Christians already possess.

I guess the way that I reconcile all of this is to say that rest takes work. The author of Hebrews is writing to Christians, and yet he still sees a need to exhort and encourage them. Hebrews 10:22 says, "Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water." The author of Hebrews wants his audience to set their minds at rest by focusing on their Heavenly Father and their faithful High Priest, Jesus Christ (Hebrews 5-7; 12:2, 5-8). This takes work, especially when they're enduring persecution and the temptation to abandon their faith (Hebrews 12:2).

And maybe the hope of a heavenly reward plays a role in their current spiritual rest, since that gives them something to anticipate. The author of Hebrews may use "rest" to mean both heaven and the present spiritual peace of the saints. He wants his audience to maintain their faith as they endure this life, but he also wants them to receive their ultimate reward.

Rahab's Assurance

I forgot to mention something crucial in yesterday's post on Rahab and salvation: Rahab had assurance.

Introducing good works as a salvation requirement can undermine assurance. Imagine that good works are a requirement for salvation. Does that mean I have to do something good (e.g., help the poor, smile at those I meet) every single day? Can I take a break at any time? Can I ever have the assurance that God just loves me, whether I do something good or not? Also, there is the question of how good is good enough. Do my good works have to be perfect for God to accept them? Suppose I have both good works and bad works. Does God weigh those in the balance in determining whether or not I enter his kingdom, as is argued within Judaism? Can I ever be at peace when works are a requirement for salvation?

As I said yesterday, there is a sense in which Rahab's faith and works were both necessary for her escape from divine wrath (the Conquest). She believed in God, but she also helped the spies, and she appealed to her good deed in persuading them to deliver her. Her good deed was not necessarily perfect, since she lied, but she did have a noble desire to help them and to be on God's side.

In all of this, she had some assurance that she would be delivered. The spies told her to tie a scarlet cord onto her window, and that would signal to the Israelite soldiers that they were not to touch her house. So the spies gave Rahab a promise that she could trust (which implies assurance), and her deliverance was based in part on a simple act: tying a cord onto her house. Christians such as Francis Schaeffer have seen a parallel between this act and the Passover ritual of painting blood on the doorposts to avert the Destroyer. For Schaeffer, the scarlet cord represents the blood of Christ, which protects God's people from divine wrath. This makes the Rahab story a lesson about justification by grace through faith, since Rahab trusts a symbol of Christ's blood to be delivered.

There was another condition in the spies' oath, however. If Rahab told anybody about the spies' mission, then the oath would be nullified. I do not know entirely what this means. Are the spies afraid that Rahab might send them to the mountains for three days and then tell the Jericho troops that they are there? Do they fear that Rahab will tell the people of Jericho when the Israelites are coming, and the spies want the attack to be a surprise? I don't know, but I think I can say this with some confidence: For the spies and the other Israelites, if the Israelites successfully attacked, then that would mean that Rahab fulfilled her side of the bargain and did not compromise the spies' mission.

So we have a recipe with all of these ingredients. Faith and works play a role in Rahab's deliverance, yet she exemplifies divine grace, since God gave her a new beginning despite her sordid past. Rahab must continue to be on God's side even after the spies' departure for her deliverance to be certain. Plus, Rahab is instructed to do a simple act that would protect her and her family: she is to tie a scarlet cord (the blood of Christ) onto her window. That gives her assurance, since it is such a simple act that safeguards her household.

So how does all this influence how I see salvation? I have no idea. I'll have to think more about that.

Thoughts on Joshua 2

I am now on Joshua for my weekly quiet time, and I read Joshua 2 this last Friday night. Here are two thoughts:

1. Why were the spies sleeping at a harlot's house? I mean, there is a lot of discussion on whether or not Rahab was right to lie, but what about the spies, who were supposed to be righteous, God-fearing people? Is this yet another example of God using imperfect vessels?

2. James 2:25 says, "Likewise also was not Rahab the harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way?" Rahab escaped wrath through both faith and works. She believed that the Israelites would triumph, but this belief by itself was not enough to give her security. After all, according to Rahab, most of the inhabitants of Jericho believed that the Israelites would win, but they were later slaughtered in the Conquest, despite their belief. Rahab's faith was not mere intellectual assent, but it was a conscious decision to side with the Israelites and their God. And her faith was expressed through works, for she hid the messengers and sent them out on another way. When she asked the Israelites to spare her and her family, she appealed to her works. At the same time, the fact that she was asking for mercy indicates that she did not see the spies as totally indebted to her, since she acknowledged that it was their decision whether to spare her or not. And grace was a factor in all of this, since Rahab was a harlot and part of a condemned people, plus the Israelites were forbidden to make a covenant with the people of the land (Deuteronomy 20:10-20). So Rahab's survival was not entirely based on strict law, which stood against her. Rahab exemplifies salvation. We are all sinners in need of forgiveness. We must have faith in the sense that we believe in God and side with him in his purposes. And our faith is expressed through our deeds, even though our deeds do not merit salvation.