War or Colonel Kilgore Catches a Whiff of Napalm (And Likes It)

But according to Scripture, even God has a Milton Waddams breaking point. Bad behavior always gets his attention—eventually. Also, don’t screw with his Swingline stapler. This usually results in a loss of property. That’s been his MO from the beginning (see Gen. 3:23, 4:12). And yeah, sometimes offenders don’t make it out alive. Once again, we’re faced with God’s inexplicable timing. As Howard Beale would say, “I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!” But what makes Israel any better than Canaan? Apparently, nothing. “[Y]ou should know that not because of your righteousness does Hashem, your God, give you this good Land to possess it, for you are a stiff-necked people” (Deut. 9:6). Looks like the old ethnic cleansing argument is BS, because the same rules apply to the Hebrews. God repeatedly warns Israel the same thing will happen to them at the first sign of a Dino Velvet Production (see Lev. 18:24-29; Deut. 11:17, 28:15-68; Josh. 23:15, 16).

God issues his first battle command in chapter 6. Jericho has the misfortune of being first in line. But if you’re expecting a Minas Tirith battle royale, you’re in for a surprise. God sends Israel to the heavily fortified city with the simple instruction to march around it. He actually tells them to put the band geeks ahead of the jocks (vv. 3-5). Who needs a battering ram when you’ve got a French horn? Basically, they’re assaulting Jericho with 20th Century Fox fanfare. This goes on for six days (v. 14). Then, on day seven, they end their routine with everyone yelling at the top of their lungs. Someone cue up the Isley Brothers. It’s time to shout a little bit louder now. As military strategies go, this one’s pretty unorthodox. But damn if it doesn’t work (v. 20). The walls of the city collapse and Israel strolls in unimpeded. They pillage and burn the city and put its residents to death. But, as promised, Rahab and her family go unharmed. They even move in with Israel (v. 25). She may be a foreign whore, but the Israelites take Edward Lewis pampering to a new level. Rahab’s efforts are so famous they’re touted 1300 years later by New Testament writers (see the future for yourself in Hebrews 11:31 and James 2:25).

There’s some dispute among scholars about when Jericho was drop-kicked and whether or not Israel had anything to do with it. Radiocarbon dating has indicated Israel wasn’t there at that time (circa 1400 B.C.E.), but rare Egyptian scarabs of Hatshepsut, Moses’ adoptive mother, may indicate they were there. Believers who struggle with the Tanach’s depiction of God are generally relieved to say the violent events of chapter 6 never happened. You know how it goes. Once Cardinal Glick sells you on Buddy Christ it’s hard to turn back. Did someone say, “Catholicism Wow”? Buddy Christ calls people out, but he never actually pulls the car over and takes off his belt like his dad does. In the Tanach, we find God enforcing the rules. As Walter Sobchak would say, “Has the whole world gone crazy? Am I the only one who gives a shit about the rules? Mark it zero!” If you don’t respect human life, you often forfeit your own. That’s what you find in the Tanach. It’s easy to see why people prefer Buddy Christ. But if we write off chapter 6 as fiction what does that say about the rest of Scripture? If we can’t trust the text on a base level, why does any of it matter? Is it time to admit Mel Brooks got it right in the History of the World, Part I?

In order to locate the guilty party, an elaborate lottery is setup. Israel isn’t privy to the cut flashback in verse 1, so everyone buys a scratch-off ticket. Achan wins (vv. 16-18). Once identified, he fesses up more freely than Mae Mordabito: “I desired them and took them” (v. 21). Achan’s screw up cost Israel the lives of 36 men. It’s an automatic death penalty. This brings us back to that burning Cadillac. Israel takes Achan and all of his stuff outside the camp, where they ban him from the Woolworth, stone him and set him and his belongings on fire in a Vincent Ludwig conga of death (v. 25). We could debate the extreme discipline that takes place here, but when only one dude in a community of several million (estimated) breaks the rules, it’s bound to stand out. Somebody call Guinness. That’s gotta be some kind of record. It’d be impressive if only a thousand people skimmed from the offering plate. But just one guy! This may be the biggest miracle we’ve come across so far.

Once the Achan issue is resolved, God gives Israel the go-ahead for a round two face-off with Ai. The rematch is recorded in chapter 8. This time Israel utilizes its full military force and Joshua leads the charge. He positions men behind the city, then baits Ai’s warriors away with a Waterloo retreat tactic, before signaling the hidden soldiers to invade the unprotected city (vv. 12-19). Looks like someone has been reading Sun Tzu. By the time Ai’s leader realizes it’s a trap, the city is on fire (v. 20).

Now that Israel has established its right hook, some of the Canaanites are reconsidering their options. Desperate to save their bacon, the Gibeonites devise an elaborate plan and approach the Israelites in chapter 9 disguised as Jamaican bobsledders looking for an Olympic sponsor (vv. 3-6). For some reason, they think this is a better option than signing the peace treaty. Israel is suspicious of their phony accents, but Gibeon finally convinces the elders to make a pact (v. 15). Three days later, Israel finds out they aren’t really Olympic hopefuls and only live a few miles down the road. Joshua is reasonably upset, but upholds the pact anyway. In the end, the deal earns Israel more minions than Felonius Gru (v. 27).

But servitude isn’t for everyone. In chapter 10, five Amorite kings form an alliance to fight together against Israel (vv. 3-5). They don’t know it yet, but it’s a good day to die hard. The Amorites’ first order of business is giving the Gibeonites the “O’Doyle rules!” treatment for striking a deal with Israel. After receiving an atomic wedgie from their neighbors, Gibeon calls Joshua on the red phone for some Drillbit Taylor assistance and, with God’s approval, he gathers the troops and goes to war (v. 6). Israel looks good marching into battle, but God does most of the work here. He starts off by “confounding” the Amorites (v. 10). Then breaks out his Pokémon weather ball and drops hailstones the size of Mini Coopers on them (v. 11). And when Joshua dials up a little northern exposure, the text implies that God literally presses the pause button on the sun and moon long enough for Israel to finish them off (vv. 12-14). The five kings try to sneak out the backdoor, but Joshua catches up and gives them a Judge Adam Fenton sendoff (v. 26).

We all know the wartime trifecta includes raping, pillaging and burning. But since rape is punishable by death under Levitical law, Israel has a strong case for keeping its pants on (see Deut. 22:25-27). Still. Two out of three ain’t bad. And, believe it or not, the law extends an extra layer of protection for female POWs. And no, it’s not a prophylactic. Turns out, you can’t sing and dance and snatch girls away like the Pontipee brothers (see Deut. 21:10-14). If a guy has the hots for one of the captives, he has to show a little self-control. He can’t just get his sexual creep on like Frank Booth. There’s a proper time and place for huffing amyl nitrate and this isn’t it. For starters, the girl is given time to mourn. No makeup. Ugly crying. The works. It makes for an awkward first date. But if things don’t work out—you know, because maybe she can’t get over the fact he killed her relatives—she’s free to go. No strings attached. These aren’t ideal circumstances, but it’s better than running into Taggart at the Number Six dance.

Chapter 10 continues with Joshua leading the Israelite army on a war march through the land. Like the MacManus brothers, they’ve got veritas and aequitas on their side. That’s the idea, at least. It doesn’t hurt that God is “waging war” for them either (v. 42). Looks like Deuteronomy 3:22 wasn’t kidding around. God may not pop his head up in the middle of battle like Arvid Harbinger to announce: “War. It’s faaaantastic!” But his involvement is impossible to deny. As a result, Israel goes on to overtake the entire southern region before the Canaanites can get their last will and testament in order.

The text says Israel annihilates their opponents (v. 20). This is a clear case of hyperbole. In case you’ve forgotten, Scripture is a collection of books filled with common literary devices. Like the psyche-outs involved in BASEketball, Israel lays it on thick here. This is what happens when you write under the influence of testosterone. This sort of language is typical of the era. There are a ton of ancient manuscripts that support this. It’s war. Trash talk comes with the territory. Israel claiming they “destroyed every soul” (v. 39) is equivalent to saying, “We kicked their ass!” The text further confirms this when it talks about survivors retreating home right after their “annihilation” (again, v. 20). Spoiler alert! The Canaanites outlast the invasion. Scripture even lists all of the places that go unchallenged (see Judg. 1:21, 27-34). These untouched communities experience a different kind of assault. Israel subjects many of them to the cruel ancient practice of—wait for it—paying taxes (see Josh. 17:13).

In chapter 11, another coalition—this time from the northern region—unites against Israel. The text says the combined armies are “as numerous as the sand on the seashore” (v. 4). You guessed it. More hyperbole. Sometimes saying your outnumbered just isn’t enough. But despite the odds, Israel still curb stomps the alliance with more prejudice than Derek Vinyard (v. 8). At this point, they’re basically unstoppable. Not even Frank Barnes can slow down their momentum. Following the victory, God instructs them to burn the enemy’s chariots, hamstring their warhorses and throw their AK-47s into the river (v. 9). It appears he doesn’t want Israel forgetting where their success comes from. No need to stockpile weapons when you’ve got God in your back pocket. We’ve already seen him take out a major city with a marching band and freeze-frame the sun for a daylight savings time beatdown. And, as predicted by the Psychic Friends Network in Exodus 23:28, he sends a swarm of hornets to be aggressive, B-E-E very aggressive in giving the Canaanites the Thomas J. Sennett treatment (see Josh. 24:12).

After seven years, the war starts to wind down. Chapter 12 lists everyone Israel conquered during this period. Then, in chapter 13, the focus shifts from war to divvying up the land in a long-winded breakdown recorded over nine chapters. Highlights include Caleb cashing in his 1-up in chapter 14. Now 85, he has more gas in the tank than Frank Moses and is quick to remind everyone of his fifteen minutes (see Num. 14:24). The same goes for Zelophehad’s daughters in chapter 17. These chicks won the first cause for feminism when they established their rightful inheritance—and they didn’t have to pull an Enid Wexler to get it done (see Num. 27:6-8). The big payoffs are finally rolling in. In fact, the text claims, “Nothing of all the good things of which Hashem had spoken to the House of Israel was lacking; everything came to pass” (Josh. 21:43).

A few of Israel’s tribes—Reuben, Gad and Manasseh—choose to live on the opposite side of the Jordon and, on their way out of town, erect a monument by the river. This causes a classic third-act misunderstanding. Weary of in-house corruption after Achan’s one-man blunder screwed over the entire community, Israel confronts their relatives in chapter 22, fully prepared to send them on a fishing trip with Al Neri: “What is this treachery that you have committed against the God of Israel?” (v. 16). It’s a tense standoff since Israel has sent an army led by Phinehas, the eight-diagram pole fighter from Numbers 25, to confront them. But the trans-Jordan tribes keep their cool. As Sterling Archer would say, “I’ll tell you what it’s not, which is what it looks like.” The tribes explain that the altar wasn’t built in defiance of God, but as a memorial between them and the rest of Israel (vv. 26-28). Their explanation immediately clears the air (v. 30).

The book of Joshua comes to a close in chapter 24, where the eponymous character gives his farewell speech. Moses needed an entire book (Deuteronomy) to say his goodbyes, but Joshua’s recap is more fast-paced than Bill and Ted’s high school history presentation. Israel once again swears allegiance to God: “[W]e will only serve Hashem” (v. 21). But Joshua has been around long enough to know how bad Israel is at playing poker and calls their bluff with Lancey Howard precision. He challenges them to get rid of “the gods that your forefathers served” (v. 14) and “the gods of the foreigner that are among you” (v. 23). Oops. Looks like the Israelites have been kowtowing to the neighbors’ Pier 1 Imports again. In a final push for monotheism, Joshua encourages the people to stick with God, before dying at the respectable age of 110 (v. 29).

That’s it. That’s how the big Canaan land grab goes down. The book of Joshua concludes God’s original word to Abraham in epic fashion. And while his method remains controversial, it’s hard to get too upset since he set it up more meticulously than a Marvel Cinematic Universe timeline. Yep. God just wrapped up his Phase 3. But look, no one saw the back of his hand more than the people who wrote this stuff down and they constantly describe him as fair and just. And maybe he is. I don’t know. As readers, we have to make an Austin Travis executive decision when it comes to what the text says. For many of us, the book of Joshua presents a serious crossroads. There aren’t a lot of options here. You can induct God into the Bully Hall of Fame alongside Scut Farkus and call it a day or deal with the fact the Prince of Peace owns a boom stick. As always, I’ll let you make the final decision.