War, Treaties, and a Very Long Day
Joshua 9–11 is dense with military movement, city conquests, and strategic decisions. But what complicates these chapters for me is how consistently the violence is framed as divinely supported. These aren’t just descriptions of war; they’re portrayals of a God who appears to lead and empower one side in battle.
Trickery, Loyalty, and a Sudden Weather Event
There’s the story of the Gibeonites, who deceive the Israelites into making a peace treaty—and instead of being punished, are allowed to remain as laborers. Immediately after, the narrative shifts into intense warfare. When the Gibeonites are attacked by neighboring kings, Israel defends them. During the battle, Joshua calls on God for help, and the sun is said to stand still. The text even says God hurled hailstones at Israel’s enemies. In Joshua 11:20, it states that God hardened the hearts of enemy kings so they would resist Israel and be "devoted to destruction."
A Divine Battle Strategy?
There’s a lot to think about here. Why would a divine figure be depicted as participating in war? What does it mean for a god to direct or support the destruction of entire cities? And how do these stories coexist with other parts of the Bible where peace, care for outsiders, or mercy are emphasized?
Ancient World, Ancient Lens
One possibility is that these chapters reflect a very specific historical and cultural context. Ancient people groups were often in competition for land and survival, and attributing military success to divine power may have been one way to affirm identity and legitimacy. In that sense, the stories may be less about a literal endorsement of violence and more about understanding a people's past through the lens of their relationship with the divine.
No Easy Answers, Just Bigger Questions
Still, these chapters are hard to read without discomfort. For modern readers, especially those approaching the text without religious commitment, the idea of holy war raises more questions than answers. Is this simply ancient rhetoric? Does it reflect how the people writing these texts understood power and justice in their world? Or are these narratives trying to communicate something deeper about loyalty, sovereignty, or fear?
Multiple Voices, One Text
Different parts of the Bible present different pictures of the divine, and this is one of the more challenging ones. It doesn’t harmonize easily with other portrayals—and maybe it isn’t meant to. Maybe it reflects the tensions people have always felt when trying to connect the idea of the divine with the reality of conflict.
Reading Joshua 9–11 through that lens doesn’t resolve the discomfort, but it does make room for a different kind of engagement—not one that demands quick answers, but one that allows space for questioning, for noticing, and for acknowledging complexity.