Choose Your Own Allegiance
Joshua 24 includes a moment that’s easy to recognize, even outside of religious circles: the line, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." It’s quoted often—on signs, artwork, and in conversations about values or family. But within the context of the chapter, it comes at a very specific point. Joshua, nearing the end of his life, is gathering the people one last time. They’ve finished the conquest of Canaan, the land has been divided, and now he’s asking everyone to make a decision about how they’ll live going forward.
Decisions, Decisions...
What’s interesting is how directly he frames it as a choice. He doesn’t assume everyone will be on the same page. In fact, he presents multiple options: the gods of their ancestors, the gods of the surrounding cultures, or the God they’ve followed through the wilderness. It’s not framed as a threat or demand. It’s a challenge to think about where their loyalty lies.
That emphasis on choice feels very grounded in human experience. Whether or not someone connects to the religious aspect, the idea of choosing what—or whom—to align with is something most people can relate to. Do we stick with what we grew up with? Do we adopt the views and values of the people around us? Do we step back and decide for ourselves? These questions don’t always come with clear answers, and they’re rarely one-time decisions. They tend to reappear at different points in life, especially during moments of change.
Household Declarations and Group Chats IRL
Joshua’s statement also includes his household. That part gives me pause. In modern contexts, we usually think of belief and identity as personal. But here, it’s communal. A family unit making a decision together, or perhaps following the direction of its head. It raises questions about how much influence we have on the people closest to us, and how shared values—chosen or inherited—shape a home or a community.
Enthusiasm Meets Real Talk
What follows is even more curious. The people respond with enthusiasm. They say, basically, of course we’ll stay loyal. But Joshua doesn’t immediately accept their answer. Instead, he pushes back. He warns them that this kind of commitment isn’t easy, and that failing to live up to it has consequences. That moment stands out—not as a threat, but as a reminder that it’s one thing to say something out loud, and another to live it out over time.
So... What Do We Choose?
I don’t have a firm takeaway from this passage. But it raises some worthwhile questions. What does loyalty look like in practice? How do people decide what they’ll center their lives around? And how do those choices affect the people connected to them?
Reading this part of Joshua feels less like closing a chapter and more like opening one. Even as the book ends, it leaves space for ongoing decisions—for the individuals in the story, and maybe for anyone thinking about what it means to choose.