Joshua 22-24: Joshua Dies
Spoken Gospel podcast with a photo of David and Seth

Joshua 22-24: Joshua Dies

About This Episode

Before Joshua dies there is a misunderstanding between the tribes on either side of the Jordan. It reveals that spiritual pride and insecurity are features of life in Israel under Joshua's leadership. This leads Joshua to say that it will be impossible for Israel to fully obey God. Israel should expect judgment. Seth and David talk about the end of Joshua's life and how spiritual pride, insecurity, and promises of judgment are all overturned by Jesus' superior leadership.

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The Final Altar, the Final Warning, and the Final Joshua: How Joshua 22–24 Points to Jesus

Show Notes

David Bowden and Seth Stewart close out the book of Joshua by walking through its final three chapters — a stretch of Scripture that moves from a near-civil war over a mysterious altar, to Joshua's farewell speeches, to his death and the burial of Joseph's bones. What emerges is a rich and surprising portrait of spiritual pride, misunderstanding, and the kind of hope that only Jesus can deliver.

A Familiar Misunderstanding and an Altar of Imposing Size

The story opens with a callback to an incident from the book of Numbers. The two and a half tribes — Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh — had originally asked Moses for permission to settle east of the Jordan River because their livestock needed the grazing land. That request sparked a misunderstanding, with Moses initially fearing they were repeating the rebellion of the previous generation who refused to enter the Promised Land. But the Transjordan tribes proved themselves more faithful than expected, crossing the Jordan to fight on behalf of all Israel before returning to their own land.

Now, at the end of Joshua, history repeats itself with different plot points. Joshua commends these tribes for their obedience and sends them home to settle east of the Jordan. But before they cross the river, they do something no one expected — they build a massive altar, a replica of the altar in the tabernacle, and they build it on Israel's side of the Jordan. This was strictly forbidden. The law permitted only one altar, and sacrificing anywhere other than at the tabernacle was a serious offense. When the rest of Israel hears about it, the reaction is swift. The whole congregation gathers at Shiloh to make war against their own brothers. They send Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, along with ten tribal leaders as emissaries. The urgency is understandable. Israel had recent, painful memories of what happens when idolatry creeps into the camp. At Ai, Achan's hidden disobedience cost lives. And at Peor, where Balaam encouraged Israel to intermarry with idol-worshiping women, 24,000 people died in a plague. Phinehas himself had ended that plague by driving a javelin through the offending party. His zeal for the purity of the land saved Israel then, and now the whole congregation has internalized that lesson — when idolatry surfaces, you deal with it immediately.

The Spiritual Lineage of Phinehas and the Irony of the Cross

The zeal of Phinehas did not end in the book of Numbers. N.T. Wright has traced a "spiritual lineage" of Phinehas all the way into the time of Jesus. The zealots of first-century Israel saw themselves as heirs of Phinehas, believing it was their duty to purge the land of Roman oppression and Jewish compromise through violence. Figures like Barabbas, and possibly even the Apostle Peter, may have had connections to this movement. The Pharisees carried a version of this same impulse — a desire to keep Israel ritually clean so that God's favor would return.

The irony is devastating. In Joshua 22, the Transjordan tribes were actually doing something faithful, and the violent response was based on a misunderstanding. Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh were spared — the violence was held back. But when Jesus arrived, the spiritual descendants of Phinehas made the same mistake and followed through. They misunderstood who the truly faithful one of Israel was, and they pinned him to a tree to end what they perceived as a curse on the land. What they meant as condemnation, God used as salvation. The spear that pierced Jesus' side echoed Phinehas' javelin, but this time, the act of violence did not just end a plague — it ended the power of Death, Sin, and the Grave for everyone willing to trust him.

Spiritual Elitism and the Jordan as a Boundary Line

One of the most revealing dynamics in Joshua 22 is the language the western tribes use about the eastern tribes. They refer to the land west of the Jordan as "the Lord's land" and to the Transjordan territory as something lesser, even "unclean" (Joshua 22:19). They speak as though the Jordan River has made the Transjordan tribes second-class citizens of the covenant. The text exposes an early, toxic strain of spiritual elitism already forming in Israel — the assumption that geographical proximity to the tabernacle made some Israelites more legitimate than others.

This is precisely what drove the Transjordan tribes to build the altar in the first place. They were afraid. Not afraid of God, but afraid of their own brothers. They feared that future generations on the western side would one day say to their children, "What have you to do with the Lord, the God of Israel? For the Lord has made the Jordan a boundary between us and you. You have no portion in the Lord" (Joshua 22:24–25). The altar was never meant for sacrifices. It was a witness — a visible declaration that the tribes east of the Jordan were still part of God's people, still recipients of his covenant, still welcome at his altar.

This matters because the Jordan boundary carried enormous theological weight. It was the threshold of the Promised Land, the place of Israel's failure in Numbers 13 and their miraculous crossing in Joshua 3. To live outside it was, in the eyes of many, to live outside God's favor. But the Transjordan tribes were doing something Israel as a whole was always supposed to do — extending God's presence and promises beyond the borders of Canaan. They were, in a real sense, the frontline missionaries, pushing the territory of God's Kingdom into the wider world. And yet their own people treated them as spiritually inferior.

This pattern — spiritual insiders looking down on those they consider outsiders — shows up again and again in Scripture. It surfaces in Israel's treatment of Samaritans, in the Pharisees' contempt for tax collectors and prostitutes, and in the Jew-Gentile division that plagued the early church. Jesus confronted it head-on. After his baptism in the Jordan, where the Holy Spirit descended on him and John declared him "the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world," Jesus crossed east of the Jordan into the wilderness. He went first to the place Israel's elite had written off. His entire ministry followed this pattern — gathering disenfranchised, marginalized, and looked-down-upon Israelites and declaring that they, too, belonged to God.

The Altar as Witness and Jesus as the True Altar

The resolution of the conflict is surprisingly peaceful. When the Transjordan tribes explain their motives, the rest of Israel accepts it. The altar was not built for burnt offerings or sacrifices. It was built as a "witness between us and you, and between our generations after us" — a testimony that the tribes east of the Jordan still belonged to God and still looked to the same sacrifice for access to his presence (Joshua 22:27). They named the altar "Witness," declaring, "It is a witness between us that the Lord is God" (Joshua 22:34).

There is a beautiful detail embedded in the design of the altar itself. It was a replica of the altar in the tabernacle. The Transjordan tribes were saying, "We know we can't offer sacrifices here, but we want you to see that our entry into God's presence is grounded in the same reality yours is — the altar and its sacrifice." Both sides of the Jordan were looking to the same thing from different vantage points. And yet, as the conversation reveals, even the altar in the tabernacle was itself a copy of a heavenly reality. Israel was judging another tribe's copy of the altar while their own was also a copy. The only true altar was the heavenly one — the one Jesus himself would ultimately fulfill.

Jesus is the final altar, the once-for-all sacrifice that stands at every boundary line human beings have drawn or experienced. Just as the altar at the Jordan declared to the Transjordan tribes, "You belong," the cross declares to everyone who trusts Jesus, "You are not inferior. You are loved. You are included. You can enter God's presence with full confidence." And it speaks a word to the spiritually proud as well. The zeal with which you condemn others, Jesus warns, is the zeal with which you will be condemned. The cross levels everyone — the spiritually elite and the spiritually ashamed alike.

Joshua's Farewell, the Covenant at Shechem, and "You Are Not Able"

In chapters 23 and 24, Joshua delivers his farewell speeches, first to Israel's leaders and then to the whole nation at Shechem — the valley between Mount Ebal, the mountain of cursing, and Mount Gerizim, the mountain of blessing. His speech mirrors Moses' final address in Deuteronomy. He reminds Israel of God's faithfulness: "One man of you puts to flight a thousand, since it is the Lord your God who fights for you" (Joshua 23:10). He urges them to be strong and courageous, to keep the law, and above all, to love the Lord their God. Then he warns them. If they turn to the gods of the nations around them, the good land will become "a snare and a trap, a whip on your sides and thorns in your eyes" (Joshua 23:13).

At Shechem, Joshua recounts Israel's entire history, beginning all the way back with Abraham's father Terah, who worshiped idols in Mesopotamia. This was not just a motivational recap — it was the formal structure of an ancient covenant, where the king recounts his past deeds before imposing obligations on his people. After the recounting, Joshua issues his famous challenge: "Choose this day whom you will serve... but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua 24:15). The people respond enthusiastically: "Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods!" But Joshua's reply is startling. He does not celebrate their commitment. Instead, he says, "You are not able to serve the Lord, for he is a holy God. He is a jealous God. He will not forgive your transgressions or your sins" (Joshua 24:19). The people double down, insisting they will serve God. And Joshua says, "You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord to serve him." They set up a stone of witness at Shechem, and Joshua sends every family to their inheritance. The book ends on a somber cliffhanger.

The Cross as Witness and the Inheritance Jesus Secures

Joshua's declaration — "You are not able to serve the Lord" — raises a question that echoes across the rest of Scripture and into the present. Can anyone with a divided heart fully serve a holy, jealous God? The answer, apart from Jesus, is no. Idolatry is not limited to bowing before golden statues. It shows up wherever ultimate trust, hope, and allegiance are placed in anything other than God — a career, a relationship, a bank account, political power, or even personal righteousness. God is passionately jealous for the whole heart, not because he is needy, but because he knows he is the only source of lasting joy, provision, and security.

The tension between the conditional and unconditional strands of God's covenant runs through the entire book of Joshua and forward into the rest of Israel's history. God unconditionally promised the land. But Israel's experience of that promise was conditioned on their obedience and trust. History proved that Israel could not uphold its end. Moses prophesied their failure, and the books of Judges and Kings record it in painful detail. The resolution to this tension is Jesus. He fulfills every condition of the covenant — loving God with his whole heart, obeying every command, trusting the Father even to the point of death. His obedience is the ground of our unconditional inclusion in God's family. He chose the cross so that we might receive the blessings of Mount Gerizim while he absorbed the curses of Mount Ebal.

The book of Joshua ends with Joshua sending the people to their inheritance under the shadow of their own words: "Your words will condemn you." But Jesus, whose name is the same as Joshua's, sends his people into their inheritance with a radically different sentence. "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1). And he adds, "I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Matthew 28:20). The cross stands as the true witness stone, the true witness altar — declaring to the spiritually ashamed that they belong, and to the spiritually proud that they, too, need mercy. That is the Gospel at the end of the book of Joshua, and it is very good news.

Transcript

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