And the people came up out of the Jordan on the tenth of the first month, and encamped in Gilgal, on the eastern extremity of Jericho.
The crossing is over. Now come two details that look like plain bookkeeping: a date and a place name. Both carry weight. The date ties this day to the Passover, and Gilgal becomes the camp Israel keeps returning to.
For people who had come out of Egypt, this date carried a memory.
Verse 19 tells us the date of this event, the tenth day of the first month. Would they not remember this date? In Egypt they were told to take a young lamb on this day and keep it for four days until the Passover. (Ex. 12:2-3) This signified a new beginning for Israel. Now they face another new beginning — but in very different circumstances!
Scripture never says Israel came up out of the Red Sea. Of the Jordan, it says so plainly.
It is never stated that they came up out of the Red Sea. Historically, of course, we know they did. But recording it would have spoiled the picture, just as it would in Romans 6 to say we were risen with Christ. Later Scripture states it fully: the people came up out of the Jordan. There it needed to be said, but not before.
Twelve stones came out of the riverbed. What they stood for, and where they stood, both mattered.
They represented the twelve tribes, the people, snatched from death by the ark. The ark had stood in the very spot where deliverance was needed. It had held back the waters of Jordan so that Israel could pass over. The stones became a monument at the very entrance of Canaan, at Gilgal, a place the people had always to return to. From then on they were a sign always before their eyes and the eyes of their children.
Two and a half tribes had settled on the far side of the river. Fewer than twelve tribes were camped in Canaan. God still commanded twelve stones.
God did not order the stones split, nine and a half set in Canaan and two and a half on the wilderness side of the river, to match how much of the land Israel had actually taken. He commanded instead the number that spoke of the whole nation. Those stones stood where, in His purpose, undivided Israel inherited and encamped.
Israel's first camp sat on the edge of Jericho, the city they were about to fight.
Gilgal is their first camp in Canaan, where the stones are pitched; and to it after their battles they constantly return. It is their stronghold that no enemy can take, and their base of support. How could they not be strong as they remember that wonderful deliverance! God is for them: who can be against them? Who can force them back into the flood He has so wonderfully brought them through?
Israel reached this camp on the day the lamb was set apart, with the Passover four days ahead. Before that meal, and before any battle, something had to happen in the camp itself.
If Israel are about to bring the sword against the Canaanites, they must first take the sharp knife to themselves. They had never been circumcised in the wilderness. The reproach of Egypt had never been rolled away from them. Before they could keep the Passover and eat the old grain of the land of Canaan, they must have the sentence of death written on them. No doubt this was anything but pleasant to nature, but it had to be done.
That is why Gilgal mattered long after the crossing.
Gilgal, therefore, stands for the judgment of self. This is the place of our strength and power. Israel had always to return to Gilgal; when they did not they were defeated. Defeat, failure in our walk, always drives us back to self-judgment and humiliation. Victory and blessing may keep us from it; and that is our real spiritual danger.
- Date. On this date in Egypt, Israel set apart the Passover lamb. The same date now marks a fresh beginning in the land.
- Entry. Scripture says Israel came up out of the Jordan. It never says that of the Red Sea. This crossing is not only escape, but entry.
- Stones. Twelve stones stand at the entrance of Canaan — one for every tribe, including those settled across the river. They testify to God's purpose for the whole nation.
- Camp. Gilgal sits on the edge of Jericho — the first camp is also the base of support they return to after every battle.
- Return. At Gilgal Israel took the sharp knife to themselves before taking the sword to Canaan. When they stopped returning there, they were defeated.
And those twelve stones which they had taken out of the Jordan did Joshua set up in Gilgal.
Israel has crossed the Jordan and camps for its first night in the land. Joshua's first act there is to set up twelve stones carried out of the riverbed — so why stones, why twelve, and why at Gilgal?
One writer sets out everything the pile announced at once.
These stones proclaimed certain realities. They were taken from the dry bed of the river, so they declared God's power in cutting off the waters before the ark of His covenant. There were twelve of them, one stone for each tribe, so they declared that all Israel had entered Canaan. They stood together in Canaan, so they witnessed to Israel's unity in that land. Moreover, they became a memorial to the nation of what the Lord had done for them.
The number twelve was not a count of who had arrived.
God did not order nine and a half stones for Canaan and two and a half for the wilderness side of the river. He did not match the stones to how much land Israel had taken. He commanded the number that spoke of the whole nation to stand where, in His purpose, undivided Israel inherited and encamped. His will was that the stones should testify to His purposes for all His people Israel.
The place mattered as much as the stones themselves.
They were to be a memorial to the children of Israel, laid in the place where the people spent their first night in the land of Canaan. That place was Gilgal. They stood for the twelve tribes, the people snatched from death by the ark. The ark had stood in the very spot where deliverance was needed, and it had held back the waters of the Jordan so that Israel could pass over. The stones became a monument at the very entrance of Canaan, at Gilgal. The people always had to come back to that place. From then on the stones were a sign always before their eyes and their children's eyes.
One writer sets the two piles of stones beside two truths in Colossians.
In Colossians 2 and 3 we have what clearly matches the two sides of this picture of the Jordan. "If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world…" This answers to the middle of the Jordan. There the waters of death normally rolled, hiding from sight everything beneath them. Then at the start of chapter 3 we have, "If then you have been raised with Christ." This answers to the stones taken up out of the water and placed on the other side. "Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God." Note the point: the memorial was not a single stone, but twelve, both in the river and on the farther side.
after-note: DISCUSS not needed
Being raised is not the end of the lesson. One writer hears a command in the stones standing at Gilgal.
The stones brought up from the bottom of the Jordan stood in Gilgal. They said, "You are risen, so put to death what belongs to the flesh."
The stones did not do the work. They pointed back to a work already finished.
They remained as the eternal witness of a finished work, just as the Lord's Supper speaks to us… God would always keep alive in my memory how He has brought me into blessing and association with His Son.
Joshua expected children to ask about the pile. One writer explains why that mattered so much.
Why insist on this? Because it is natural for us to forget even such great miracles of God's power and to slip into a careless, casual condition. The children had not seen this great miracle. Hearing about it would not impress them much unless their parents showed a great appreciation of this work of God. What is more, this was meant to affect all the peoples of the earth, as well as instilling the fear of God in all Israel.
- Taken — the stones came from the dry riverbed where the ark had stood, so they carried proof of God's power.
- Twelve — one stone for each tribe, though only nine and a half tribes settled west of the river. The count spoke of God's purpose for the whole people, not of what they had taken so far.
- Pitched — Joshua set them at Gilgal, Israel's first camp in the land. The people kept coming back there, so the memorial stayed in view.
- Paired — stones left in the river speak of dying with Christ. Stones carried out speak of being raised with Him, and rising with Him brings the call to put the flesh to death.
- Passed on — memory fades, so Joshua built the pile to make children ask, to hold Israel in the fear of God, and to reach all the peoples of the earth.
And he spoke to the children of Israel, saying, When your children hereafter ask their fathers, saying, What [mean] these stones?
Israel has just crossed the Jordan on dry ground. Twelve stones lifted from the riverbed now stand at Gilgal. Joshua looks past the generation that saw it happen. He tells the fathers what to answer when their children point at the stones and ask.
The stones were not decoration. Israel set them up so that a child would one day have to ask about them. Every tribe helped carry them.
The whole assembly was to grasp the great fact and act on it — "from each tribe a man" — "each of you take up a stone upon his shoulder." Each stone came from the very spot where the priests' feet stood firm. All were to come into living personal contact with the great mysterious fact that the waters of the Jordan were cut off. All were to share in setting up a memorial of this fact — one that would make their children ask what it meant. It was never to be forgotten.
The same writer notes what set these stones apart from all others:
These were stones of unusual significance. No other stones could tell such a story, teach such a lesson, or stand for such a staggering fact. There were no other stones like them.
Joshua does not leave the reply to the parent's invention. The required answer is a report of what God did.
The pillar of twelve stones, set up in Gilgal, became a memorial to the nation of what the Lord had done for them. The children would ask their fathers, "What do those stones mean to you?" The answer was to be an account of the Lord's doings: "The waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord; when it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off." And Christians may well recount to their children what God has done. Our little ones should be grounded in the great truths of God's word. We should plant the facts of redemption, resurrection, and ascension in their minds and memories.
Joshua made provision for teaching the children what the stones meant. That care for the young ran through Israel's life, and the duty fell on the parent.
It is not too much to say that the children were never forgotten in any important act or ceremony of the congregation of Israel… God placed on the Jewish parent the responsibility of teaching his children the knowledge of His word, His work, and His ways. The aim was that the children's hope might also be in God. They were to teach expecting God to bless their work. They knew it was not His will that one of their little ones should perish.
Joshua had already said this in verses 6 and 7. Saying it twice is deliberate, and the reason is in us.
Then Joshua repeated to Israel what he had said in verses 6-7. He reminded them to answer their children's questions in the future with the full truth: they crossed the Jordan on dry ground when the Lord dried up the waters for them. Why insist on this? Because it is natural for us to forget even such great miracles of God's power and to slip into a slack, careless condition. The children had not seen this great miracle. Hearing about it would not impress them much unless their parents showed them how much they valued this work of God.
A second writer draws the same line from the forgetfulness of the heart to the need for something visible and lasting:
The human heart is so forgetful and unsteady that there is need of some lasting memorial of God's goodness. The Lord's Supper has this character in Christianity.
The stones came out of the place of death and now stand in the land. Darby sees a picture of the believer's position in this.
Note that circumcision is not the only thing at Gilgal, on the far side of the Jordan, in the land. The stones from the bottom of the Jordan are set up there too — we carry the witness and power of death there. We are dead and risen with Christ, not merely circumcised in heart.
Grant draws the line straight to our own children:
The Israelites were to teach their children the meaning of the stones. In the same way, believers should teach their children that the death and resurrection of Christ are the basis of all blessing for His people. We today have a memorial of this great work of God in the Lord's Supper, for believers are told, "Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19). We too should take care to teach our children what this memorial means.
- Remember — the stones stood at Gilgal for one purpose: the crossing "was never to be forgotten."
- Ask — the memorial was designed to pull a question out of a child who had not been there.
- Answer — the reply was fixed in advance: a plain account of what the Lord did, not what Israel achieved.
- Teach — the duty falls on parents, and children take it in when the parents themselves treasure the work of God.
- Carry — the Lord's Supper is to believers what those stones were to Israel — the witness that we are dead and risen with Christ.
then ye shall let your children know, saying, On dry land did Israel come over this Jordan;
Joshua set up twelve stones from the riverbed at Gilgal. He then told the people what to answer when a child points at them and asks what they mean. The answer is a fact, not a sermon: the nation walked across the Jordan on dry ground.
The stones were not a private keepsake. One man from each tribe carried a stone on his shoulder. The whole nation had a hand in the work.
The whole assembly had to grasp this great fact and act on it — "a man from each tribe" — "take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder" — a stone taken from the very spot where the priests' feet stood firm. Each of them had to come into living personal contact with the great mysterious fact that the waters of the Jordan were cut off. All of them had to share in building a memorial of this fact — one that would make their children ask what it meant. They were never to forget it.
The words the parents must repeat cover every single person in the camp.
Every member of the camp had passed clean over the Jordan. Not one of them was allowed to feel the slightest touch of the river of death. Grace had brought them all safely over into the inheritance promised to their fathers. The Red Sea had separated them from Egypt. Now they were brought right into Canaan across the dry bed of the Jordan, and camped at Gilgal, in the plains of Jericho.
One writer reads the stones lifted out of the riverbed as a picture of the Christian's new place before God.
When they looked at these stones, their children would ask, "What do these stones mean?" They could point to them and say: just as these stones came up out of the Jordan onto dry land, so they had been brought out of the Jordan into this land of promise. This memorial is a picture of the fact "that we are alive to God in our Lord Jesus Christ." We are a new creation in Christ Jesus. The old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new. It is the memorial which tells us that we are raised up and seated in Christ in the heavenly places.
The command speaks to fathers. One writer applies it straight to Christian homes.
The pillar of twelve stones, set up in Gilgal, became a memorial to the nation of Jehovah's work for them. The children would ask their fathers, "What do those stones mean to you?" The fathers were to answer by telling the Lord's doings: "the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off." And Christians may well recount to their children what God has done. Our little ones should be grounded in the great truths of God's word. Plant the facts of redemption, resurrection, and ascension in their minds and memories.
Joshua says the same thing twice in one chapter. One writer asks why, and finds the reason in us.
Why insist on this? Because it is a natural tendency for us to forget even such great miracles of God's power and to slip into a lax, careless condition. The children had not seen this great miracle. Hearing about it would not impress them much, unless their parents showed a great appreciation of this work of God.
Israel set the stones up at the place where they lodged for the night. One writer turns from those stones to the memorial Christians have.
But what a blessed portion is ours as we look at the stones in the lodging place! We are only "lodgers" in this world, and only for a "night." But the Lord has given us a memorial too. It tells of our salvation, and also how it was accomplished... But who, even of the firstborn ones, can fully estimate the Lord's death? As the stones were a memorial for the children of Israel forever, so the Lord's supper is in remembrance of Him until He comes.
- Fact. The answer to the child's question is an event, not an opinion. The nation crossed on dry ground, and the river of death did not touch one of them.
- Memorial. Israel placed the stones to make the children ask questions. The fact was never to be forgotten.
- Meaning. One writer reads the stones lifted out of the Jordan as a picture: we are alive to God, raised with Christ into a new place of blessing.
- Charge. God gives parents the answer in advance. Ground your children in redemption, resurrection and ascension as settled facts.
- Danger. Joshua repeats the command because forgetting comes naturally. Children value only what their parents clearly treasure.
because Jehovah your God dried up the waters of the Jordan from before you, until ye had passed over, as Jehovah your God did to the Red sea, which he dried up from before us, until we had passed over;
Joshua is telling parents what to say when their children point at twelve stones and ask what they mean. The answer he gives them is not about Israel's march but about God's hand. He also ties this crossing to the older miracle at the Red Sea, telling the two rescues as one story.
The Jordan was not a trickle at that season. It was in flood, and God stopped it when the obstacle was at its worst.
The Jordan fills all its banks throughout harvest time. For Christ, when He rolled back its stream for us, death had all its terrors. But its flood is stopped, its waters are heaped up far away, so that they should not come near His people as they cross. It was our death He bore. It is taken out of the way, and we pass over to our inheritance, untouched and unhindered by it.
Joshua sets the two crossings side by side. Commentators have long held that they picture two different things, not one truth told twice.
Many have observed that the crossing of the Red Sea foreshadowed the death and resurrection of Christ for His people. The passage of the Jordan pointed forward to the death and resurrection of the saints with Christ. This very clear distinction must be plain to every spiritual mind that weighs the two Scriptures in the light of the New Testament.
Another writer puts the difference as a matter of direction: what God brought them out of, and what He brought them into.
The Red Sea was God's way of power for bringing His people out of their slavery. The Jordan was His way of power for bringing them into the fulness of their blessings. In the one case, death, in figure, was passed through. In the other, death, in figure, was out of sight altogether.
A popular reading treats this river as the crossing every believer makes at death. Commentators push back on that and point to something entered now.
The passage of the Red Sea pictured Christ dying for the believer, by which the believer escapes death and judgement. The passage of the Jordan pictured the believer dying with Christ and rising with Him. The path of death becomes the path of life. Many have taken the Jordan itself as a picture of the death we must pass through to reach heaven. But it is rather a figure of something entered while still on earth. Through death with Christ, the Christian comes into his heavenly position. There he has to stand for the Lord in conflict with spiritual powers of wickedness, just as Israel had to fight the Canaanites.
These are words for parents to speak. Joshua expects them to repeat the story years later, to children who never stood on that riverbed. One writer explains why it mattered so much.
Why should this be insisted upon? Because we tend by nature to forget even such great miracles of God's power, and to slip into a careless, casual state. The children had not seen this great miracle. Hearing about it would not impress them much unless their parents showed them a deep appreciation of this work of God.
One generation told the next what God had done. Another writer presses the same content on Christian parents.
And Christians may well recount to their children what God has done. Our little ones should be grounded in the great truths of God's word. The facts of redemption, resurrection and ascension should be planted in their minds and memories.
Joshua does not stop at the family. The reason he gives right after this verse reaches past his own nation.
Joshua 4:23 links the crossing of the Jordan with the passing over of the Red Sea. This was not only to remind God's people of what He has done for them, but "that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the LORD is mighty, that you may fear the LORD your God forever." What a testimony God has given to men in the death of Christ. It is in bringing Christ out of death that God has displayed the "immeasurable greatness of His power" (Eph. 1:19-23). Whether men accept this testimony or not, it is also given so that His own might fear Him forever.
- Dried, not dammed — the river was at full flood when God stopped it. His people crossed the worst obstacle untouched.
- Dried out — the Red Sea brought Israel out of slavery; it pictures Christ dying for the believer.
- Dried in — the Jordan brought them into their promised land. It pictures the believer dying and rising with Christ, and standing in conflict there.
- Dried for you, dried for us — parents were to retell the crossing, because people forget miracles. Children take it to heart only when their parents treasure it.
- Dried for all the earth — the aim runs past Israel to every nation, so that all may know God's mighty hand, and His own may fear Him forever.
that all peoples of the earth might know the hand of Jehovah, that it is mighty; that ye might fear Jehovah your God continually.
Israel has just walked across a dry riverbed into the land God promised, and twelve stones now stand at Gilgal to mark it. The verse gives the reason for that pile of stones, and it reaches far past Israel. The nations are to learn what God's hand can do. Israel is to keep a fear of Him that never wears off.
The stones were not decoration. Men carried them out of the dry riverbed, and every detail of them carried a message.
These stones proclaimed certain realities. Taken from the dry bed of the river, they declared God's power in cutting off the waters before the ark of His covenant. Twelve in number, one stone for each tribe, they declared how all Israel had entered into Canaan. Set up together in Canaan, they witnessed to Israel's unity in that land. Moreover, they became a memorial to the nation of Jehovah's work for them.
Joshua told the parents to give their children the full truth of the crossing. God pressed this hard, and one writer explains why.
Why insist on this? Because it is a natural tendency for us to forget even such great miracles of God's power and to slip into a lax, careless condition. The children had not seen this great miracle. Simply hearing about it would not impress them much, unless their parents showed them a great appreciation of this work of God.
The same task falls to parents today. One writer names what they must pass on.
And well indeed may Christians recount to their children what God has done. Our little ones should be grounded in the great truths of God's word. We should plant the facts of redemption, resurrection, and ascension in their minds and memories. The pillar of stones taken from the Jordan's bed was thrown down long ago. But the Christian's pillar of witness is the word of God, and it can never be removed.
The stones at Gilgal were the second memorial. One writer reads them as a picture of the new life God's people have in Christ.
The other memorial was erected at Gilgal. They would look at these stones, and their children would ask, "What do these stones mean?" Then they could point to them and answer. These stones were taken out of the Jordan onto dry land. In the same way, they themselves had been brought out of the Jordan into this land of promise. This memorial is a picture of the fact "that we are alive to God in our Lord Jesus Christ." We are a new creation in Christ Jesus. The old things have passed away; look, all things have become new.
The verse widens the audience beyond Israel. The nations were to learn who this God is: tied to one people, and Lord of the whole earth.
The rivers and their stones were memorials to the twelve tribes. Beyond all these, the stones carried a witness to God everywhere. He was "the Lord their God" by relationship with them through the ark, for they had followed it in triumph to the other side. He was also "the God of the whole earth," for the Jordan had fled away and stood up as a heap before Him. It is in this double title and character that the Lord now appears before them and "all the people of the earth" at Gilgal, as a God who does wonders.
The verse ties the Jordan back to the Red Sea, and both events point forward to a greater display of the same power.
The crossing of the Jordan and the passing over of the Red Sea are linked together. This is not only to remind God's people of what He has done for them. It is also so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty. What a testimony God has given to men in the death of Christ. In bringing Christ out of death, God has displayed the "exceeding greatness of His power." Whether people accept this testimony or not, God also gives it so that His own might fear Him forever.
That fear is reverence, and it slips away without notice.
We rejoice in God our Father. But let us never forget that our Father is God. Reverence and godly fear are always the right attitude in His presence. Holy confidence and free access to Him do not mean familiarity, and familiarity may slide, without our noticing, into treating Him lightly.
- Stones speak. The twelve stones declared God's power over the waters, the whole nation's entry, and Israel's oneness in the land.
- Memory guards. Left to itself, the heart forgets even great miracles and drifts into carelessness. So God gave Israel a reminder in stone.
- Children ask. The memorial exists for the next generation. Parents answer with the facts of redemption, resurrection, and ascension.
- Nations watch. The event showed a double title — the Lord who belongs to His people, and the God of the whole earth.
- Fear remains. The same power that dried the Jordan raised Christ from the dead. The right answer is lasting reverence, not familiarity.
And it came to pass when all the kings of the Amorites, who were beyond the Jordan westward, and all the kings of the Canaanites, who were by the sea, heard that Jehovah had dried up the waters of the Jordan from before the children of Israel, until they had passed over, that their heart melted, and there was no spirit in them any more, because of the children of Israel.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
At that time Jehovah said to Joshua, Make thee stone-knives, and circumcise again the children of Israel the second time.
Israel has just crossed the Jordan and the enemy kings are terrified — the perfect moment to strike. Instead God calls for a knife: why circumcise "a second time," why now, and what does that have to do with taking a land?
The command is fixed to a precise hour in the story.
Now notice what follows. When all the kings of the Amorites and the Canaanites heard that the Lord had dried up the Jordan before the children of Israel, their heart melted, and there was no spirit left in them because of the children of Israel. "At that time" — note the words! when terror had paralysed every nation at the very thought of this people — "At that time the LORD said to Joshua, 'Make flint knives and circumcise the sons of Israel a second time.'"
By any human calculation this was the worst possible order.
Joshua had to make flint knives to circumcise the men of Israel (vv. 3-4). This went completely against military strategy. It would leave them very weak if the enemy attacked. But God was able to keep the enemy in check, and His word is most vital if we are to see any results for Him.
The rite was not new. Israel had let it lapse.
They had neglected this rite of such deep meaning. God gave no command to circumcise during the thirty-eight years of wandering. The rite was suspended; it may have been a punishment for their unbelief. But now all is changed. They are in the land. Israel was about to keep the Passover, the great memorial feast. The uncircumcised could not eat the Passover. The reproach of Egypt was rolled away, and the place was called Gilgal, which means "rolling."
The mark went back to Egypt, but the wilderness generation never wore it.
Israel as a nation were circumcised in Egypt; there they had the token of God's covenant on them. But Israel wandering in the wilderness were an uncircumcised people. In Israel's unbelief we may find the reason why they were unable to bear on themselves the token of being Jehovah's nation. Unbelief in God's word of grace and true separation to God cannot exist together in the souls of men.
The order matters: God kept His word first, and only then made His claim.
"By the way" — that is, in the wilderness, the doubting, the testing period of Israel's history — God made no call upon them for circumcision. But now He had fulfilled His word before their eyes. They themselves were the witnesses of His faithfulness. They had entered the land of promise, and "at that time" He at once required it of them. The grace God had shown them, and the favour into which He had brought them, changed His way of acting toward them.
Before Israel could use a sword on the enemy, God required a knife on themselves.
Whatever is offensive must now be judged. Nature had had free rein in the wilderness, but in the land they must use the knife. A nation that holds nothing in check and puts nothing to death cannot fight the battles of the Lord. It would be like Satan trying to cast out Satan. Knowing our sins are forgiven is not, by itself, what fits us to fight against spiritual wickedness in high places.
Christians can now enter into the spiritual meaning of circumcision.
The letter to the Colossians shows that this rite pictures two things: the judgment of the body of the flesh in the death of Christ, and the believer's own practical putting to death of the flesh (Col. 2:11; Col. 3:5). Not only has God dealt with the believer's sins, but, at the cross, God has dealt with the old man that produced the sins.
Yet the work is not something we perform on ourselves by effort.
Never forget that we are circumcised in Christ, not in our own strength. The work is entirely spiritual, for it is "made without hands." It is a divine work, in contrast with everything human.
Gilgal, where this happened, does not stay behind once the fighting starts.
Gilgal was the place of circumcision. It was the starting point for the army of Jehovah before they had won a single victory. It was also the gathering place after victory (Joshua 10:15), and again the starting point for fresh conquests. The judgment of the flesh never changed. The people had to keep applying it to themselves. Otherwise the flesh would work to regain what it had lost, and a first victory would never lead to a second.
- Grace first. God opened the Jordan before He asked for the knife. His favour came first, and His claim followed.
- Knife before sword. A people who never judge themselves cannot fight God's battles. Forgiveness alone does not fit you for the fight.
- Second time, not new. Unbelief cost one generation the sign of the covenant. Entering the land restored what the wilderness years had let lapse.
- Made without hands. Christ's death cut off the flesh — a divine work, not self-improvement.
- Return to Gilgal. Victory does not end the lesson. The flesh takes back whatever you stop judging, so the starting point is also the place to return to.
And Joshua made him stone-knives, and circumcised the children of Israel at the hill of Araloth.
Israel had just crossed the Jordan into Canaan. Their first act in the land was not a battle but a wound. Joshua cut with flint knives, and a whole generation received the sign of the covenant for the first time. The question this raises is why God asks for weakness at the exact moment strength seems most needed.
The command came at the one moment when Israel looked unstoppable. One writer stops on the words "at that time."
Now notice what follows. All the kings of the Amorites west of the Jordan, and all the kings of the Canaanites by the sea, heard that the Lord had dried up the Jordan in front of Israel until they had crossed over. Their courage melted. They had no spirit left in them because of the people of Israel. "At that time" — note those words! Every nation around was frozen with terror at the very thought of this people. And it was at that time that the Lord said to Joshua: make flint knives and circumcise the sons of Israel a second time.
Obeying meant weakening his own army inside enemy land.
God told Joshua to make flint knives and circumcise the men of Israel (verses 3-4). This went straight against military strategy. It would leave them weak if the enemy attacked. But God could hold the enemy back, and His word matters most if anything is to be gained for Him.
The sign had lapsed for almost forty years.
The rite of such deep meaning had been neglected. No doubt they had plenty of excuses for that during the wilderness journey. God gave no command to circumcise during the thirty-eight years of wandering. The rite was put on hold, and that may have been a punishment for their unbelief. But now everything has changed. They are in the land.
Another writer traces the lapse back to Israel refusing to trust God's promise about the land.
Israel's unbelief may be the reason they were unfit to carry on their bodies the sign that they were the Lord's nation. In one heart, unbelief in God's word of grace and real separation to God cannot live side by side.
The knife was aimed at Israel, not at Canaan.
In the wilderness, nature had free rein. In the land the knife must be used. A nation that holds nothing in check cannot fight the Lord's battles. It would be like Satan trying to cast out Satan. Knowing our sins are forgiven is not by itself what fits us to fight spiritual wickedness in high places.
Notice what Joshua is not handed yet. The commander of the Lord's army with a drawn sword appears only later in the chapter.
Joshua did not see a sword in the hand of the commander of the Lord's army until every Israelite first held the knife to deal with himself. The call to circumcision had done its work before they were morally fit to use the sword against others.
Israel did not do this to themselves. Joshua did it to them.
Notice too: there is no thought here of us trying to finish off ourselves, or of stripping ourselves. The "putting off" was done at the cross. God condemned sin in the flesh there. Faith takes hold of that fact. It becomes real in practice as the conscience owns and accepts that judgment.
The place was named Gilgal. Israel had to keep coming back to it.
Gilgal, the place of self-judgment, is the place of practical divine power. We find even victories dangerous unless we return to the judgment of the flesh. After preaching the gospel (the most blessed work that can be), we must go back to Gilgal. Israel began well at Jericho: what were the high walls to faith? The higher the walls, the worse the ruin when they come down. But instead of returning to Gilgal, they get self-confident and send up a few to take Ai. But there we get failure.
(Some older translations say "sharp knives." The ESV's "flint knives" means the same tool.)
- Timing. God called for the knife at the very moment Canaan's kings lost their nerve. The hour of greatest advantage became the hour of chosen weakness.
- Obedience. Joshua weakened his own fighting men on enemy soil. Being right before God mattered more than military sense.
- Neglect. A whole generation carried no sign of the covenant. One writer ties that silence to the unbelief that kept them wandering.
- Order. The knife came before the sword — Israel had to be dealt with before Israel could deal with Canaan.
- Return. Gilgal was named for what happened there, and later victories held only while Israel kept returning to it.
And this is the cause why Joshua circumcised [them] all the people that had come out of Egypt, the males, all the men of war, had died in the wilderness on the way, after they came out of Egypt.
Joshua pauses to explain a gap in Israel's obedience: every fighting man who left Egypt died on the way, and their sons carried no covenant sign. Why did that generation fall, and why did the sign lapse until Israel stood in the land?
The deaths this verse reports were not accidents of a long march. They were the penalty for one refusal at the border of the land, nearly forty years earlier.
We now come to the decisive point in the history of the wilderness: the people refused to enter the land when God brought them to its very borders. By this they incur the penalty. They wander for forty years, and the whole generation (except two people) dies in the wilderness. For these, therefore, the whole character of their life changes. They are not pilgrims any more, but wanderers... Circumcision likewise ceases, as we see by its renewal when they enter Canaan. So the very sign of their covenant with the LORD is lost. Grace alone carries them at last through the Jordan and gives them the land they turn back from here.
The lapse reached further than one rite. One writer traces what a whole uncircumcised generation must have meant for Israel's worship.
Nothing was more basic to the covenant than the rite of circumcision. The uncircumcised male child was to be cut off from his people (Gen. 17:14), and no such person could eat of the Passover at all (Ex. 12:48). So either Israel ignored these laws, or they left out the Passover almost completely toward the end of the wilderness journey. By then no one under forty had been circumcised at all... How clearly the Lord's patience with the people shows! But how clear it is that priesthood and Levitical service must almost have come to an end.
Why did the practice stop? One writer finds the cause in the people's own state of soul.
In the wilderness, the nation as a whole neglected the rite for nearly forty years. They did not keep up the appointed sign of separation to God from the nations. Yet we read of no call from the LORD to keep the ordinance as long as they were in the wilderness... In Israel's unbelief we may find the reason why they were unfit to carry the sign that they were the LORD's nation. Unbelief in God's word of grace and true separation to God cannot exist together in the souls of men.
Another reads the silence as a suspension from God's side, and hesitates to call it punishment outright.
The rite of such deep meaning had been neglected. No doubt they had plenty of excuses for that during the wilderness journey. No command was given to circumcise during the thirty-eight years of wandering. It was suspended; it may have been a punishment for their unbelief. But now all is changed. They are in the land.
The verse calls the dead "all the men of war." Their slow loss in the desert has a counterpart in the Christian life.
The men of war who came out of Egypt were not such as God could use in Canaan under Joshua. One by one, for forty years, slowly but surely, they fell in the wilderness, until at last all of them were gone... The energy the Christian brought up out of Egypt is made of just such men of war — natural strength, worldly position, and the like. It does not help the spiritual work of God... The chastening hand consumes. Yet that very hand is also a hand of blessing, for God, while cutting off the old, raises up "in their stead" the new... Where we find the power we thought was in ourselves growing less and less, the power of Christ is becoming clear.
The knife came out only after Israel crossed the river. Why then, and not in the desert?
God never forgets the claims of holiness. Now the dangers of the wilderness are past, and Israel must respond to their new position. Nature had had full freedom in the wilderness. But in the land the knife must be used, for a nation that holds nothing in check and puts nothing to death cannot fight the battles of the Lord. It would be like Satan trying to cast out Satan. Knowing our sins are forgiven is not, by itself, what fits us to fight spiritual wickedness in high places.
Paul takes up the same word and uses it of Christians.
Here Paul addresses the saints in Philippians according to God's mind about them in Christ. He says, "We are the circumcision." He states of them what God has made them in Christ. The meaning is that nature is judged, sentence of death being passed upon it. God does not only bring the believer out from under condemnation for his sins. The believer's nature fell into rebellion against God, evil and selfish. In Christ, that nature has now had the sentence of death carried out on it.
- Unbelief. One refusal at the border turned pilgrims into wanderers. It cost a whole generation the land.
- Cut off. Once Israel dropped the covenant sign, the Passover and the priests' service all but stopped. Unbelief and real separation to God cannot live together.
- Consumed. The "men of war" from Egypt were just what God could not use in Canaan. Natural strength and worldly standing fall away one by one.
- Raised up. God never only takes away. While cutting off the old, He raises new life "in their stead," so the power of Christ shows where ours is gone.
- Sharpened. Forgiveness carried Israel through the desert. In the land the knife had to come out: a people who never judge themselves cannot fight the Lord's battles.
For all the people that came out were circumcised; but all the people that were born in the wilderness on the way, after they came out of Egypt, [them] had they not circumcised.
Israel has just crossed the Jordan. The men who left Egypt carried the covenant sign. The generation born in the desert did not. So why did the sign lapse for forty years, and why did God ask for it the moment Israel entered the land?
Circumcision was not about health or custom. It marked a people as God's own, set apart from everyone around them.
Circumcision is a sign in God's people that they are indeed His, separated to Himself according to His purpose. To Abraham, the father of the faithful, it was a sign of the covenant God had made with him (Gen. 17:11). The Lord's words, "So shall my covenant be in your flesh an everlasting covenant" (Gen. 17:13), included the whole generation of His people of old. Circumcision showed that God had set Israel apart for Himself, away from the nations around them.
Commentators differ on the reason for the lapse. One writer traces it to Israel's unbelief about the land. He also finds God's long silence strange, since God once dealt firmly with Moses over the same neglect at home.
In the wilderness the nation as a whole neglected the rite for nearly forty years. They did not keep up the appointed sign that set them apart to God from the nations. Yet we read of no call from the Lord to keep the ordinance while they were in the wilderness. That is remarkable when we remember Moses' own story, and how God dealt with him over his neglect of circumcision in his family (Ex. 4:24-25). Why was this? God had promised to bring Israel into the land, but they refused to believe God in His covenant to their fathers. In Israel's unbelief we may find the reason why they were unfit to carry the sign that they were the Lord's nation. Unbelief in God's word of grace and true separation to God cannot exist together in the souls of men.
Another writer is less sure about the cause. He points to what the missing sign cost Israel:
No command to circumcise came during the thirty-eight years of wandering. It was suspended, and may have been a punishment for their unbelief. But now all is changed. They are in the land. Israel was about to keep the Passover, the great memorial feast. The uncircumcised could not eat the Passover.
The place name carries the meaning here, and so does the timing.
Gilgal, as the scene of Israel's circumcision, is the next step; it means rolling. There they submitted to that sign of the covenant, and rolled away the reproach of Egypt. They had never been circumcised in the wilderness. A person may be delivered from Egypt. But belonging to the wilderness is not the same as being crucified to the world, even though we have to go through the wilderness and overcome it. It is when we enter the heavenly places that we are done with the world and circumcised.
God weakened Israel's army before He gave it a single victory. One writer says that was God's method.
The enemies are too strong for the poor children of Israel, but God is going to give them the victory. And how? By taking away all the weapons and resources they would have found in themselves. Flesh cannot enlist in the warfare; God judges it and sets it aside; and this is the meaning of circumcision. Circumcision is "the putting off of the body of the flesh" in Christ. It is a finished fact for every believer, just as the Jordan is for each of us, whether or not we grasp what it means.
Christ has already done the cutting off. Something still remains for us every day, and it is not comfortable.
The circumcision at Gilgal was the shared privilege of the whole nation of Israel. In the same way, all Christians are the circumcision. But this privilege also has a practical side. God has circumcised us in Christ, and in this way He has put off the body of the flesh. So we are to put to death our members on earth — "Put to death therefore what is earthly in you" (Col. 3:5). By nature we enjoy giving free rein to our passions, tempers and desires. To put them to death, to refuse our wishes their own way, to deny our will — that is no painless exercise. "Put to death therefore" is a word which comes home to us all — a word which is as a "sharp knife" to us every day we live on earth.
- Sign — Circumcision marked Israel as God's own, cut off from the nations around them. It was the covenant worn in the body.
- Lapse — The desert generation went without it. One writer traces this to unbelief about the land. Another says God suspended the command, perhaps as punishment. Either way, the uncircumcised could not eat the Passover.
- Land — The sign was required not in the wilderness but across the Jordan. Being out of Egypt is not the same as being done with the world.
- Knife — God took away their confidence in themselves before He gave them one victory. The flesh has no place in His warfare.
- Daily — What God has done in Christ becomes daily practice. "Put to death therefore" is the sharp knife on our own will, every day we live.
For the children of Israel had walked forty years in the wilderness, till the whole nation of men of war had perished who had come out of Egypt, who had not hearkened to the voice of Jehovah; to whom Jehovah had sworn that he would not show them the land which Jehovah had sworn unto their fathers that he would give us, a land flowing with milk and honey.
This verse explains why a whole generation reached the Jordan uncircumcised: their fathers wandered forty years and died there, because they would not listen to God. Yet the same verse names a promise God still meant to keep — the land He swore to give their fathers.
The wandering was never God's plan. He meant to take them from Egypt to Canaan, and the trip was short.
God's purpose was to bring them out and to bring them in... Their sad forty years of aimless wandering in the wilderness was no part of God's purpose. Wilderness experiences have their place in God's ways and dealings with us, so that we may learn what we are, and learn His grace and goodness... His purpose for Israel was to bring them out of Egypt and into Canaan, for He had set His heart on them. A journey of little more than eleven days would have been enough, if they had been set on going in. (See Deut. 1:2.)
The people had said they would rather die in the desert. God took them at their word.
It all flowed from forgetting God... But now God Himself steps in. He will deal with them according to their faith; they will perish in the wilderness, just as they wished. God will bring only the faithful ones and the children into the land — but on the way they still bear the consequences of the unbelief of the majority.
Refusing at the border changed the whole character of the journey. It also cost Israel the sign of belonging to God — the very thing Joshua 5 restores.
We now come to the decisive point in the history of the wilderness: the people refuse to enter the land when God brings them to its very borders. For this they incur the penalty of forty years of wandering, and the death of the whole generation (except two people) in the wilderness. So the whole character of their life is changed. They are not pilgrims any more, but wanderers... Circumcision also stops, as we see from its renewal when they enter Canaan. So the very sign of their covenant with the LORD is lost, and grace alone carries them at last through the Jordan, and gives them the land they turn back from here.
Why did God let that lapse pass? One writer answers from the unbelief this verse names.
We read of no call from the LORD to keep up circumcision as long as they were in the wilderness. In Israel's unbelief we may find the reason why they could not carry on themselves the token that they were the LORD's nation. Unbelief in God's word of grace and true separation to God cannot exist together in the souls of men. Israel did not believe God would bring them into the land that the LORD had sworn to their fathers to give them; their wanderings followed from their unbelief.
A whole army died out in the desert over forty years. Witherby reads that slow loss as a picture of how God trains a believer.
The men of war that came out of Egypt were not the kind God could use in Canaan under Joshua. One by one, for forty years, they fell in the wilderness... The energy a Christian brings up out of Egypt — such men of war as natural strength, worldly position and the like — does not help the spiritual work of God... The hand that chastens consumes, yet that same hand is also a hand of blessing, for while God cuts off the old, He raises up the new in their place... Where the power we thought was in ourselves grows less and less, the power of Christ is becoming clear.
Two oaths appear in this verse. One shut a generation out. The older one promised their fathers the land, and unbelief could delay that promise but not cancel it.
But Israel despised the land, so they were set aside and could not get in. God tells them He will treat them just as they had said He would: they will wander forty years in the desert, a year for each day they spent searching the land, until they all die. Yet despite all this, the very next chapter begins, "When you come into the land." Despite all their sin, God speaks of them as if they were already there.
- Cause. The forty years came from disobedience at the border, not from God's plan. The journey He intended took little more than eleven days.
- Sentence. They wished to die in the desert. God dealt with them according to their faith, and gave them what they asked.
- Cost. Pilgrims became wanderers, and the sign of the covenant lapsed. Grace alone carried them across the Jordan at last.
- Removal. The men of war fell one by one. The same hand that removed the old strength raised up new life in their place.
- Promise. The oath to the fathers outlived the generation that lost it. God still spoke as though they were already in the land.
And their sons [whom] he raised up in their stead, them Joshua circumcised, for they were uncircumcised, because they had not circumcised them on the way.
Israel stands inside the promised land, and before a single battle God has Joshua take a knife to His own people. Verse 7 names who felt that knife: not the men who left Egypt, but the sons God raised up in their place. Through forty years of travel, none of them had received the covenant sign.
Every man of war who left Egypt died on the way. God raised up their sons to stand in their place, and Joshua circumcised them at Gilgal. One writer sees the same exchange in Christian experience: old strength spent, new strength given.
The men of war who came out of Egypt were not the kind God could use in Canaan under Joshua. One by one, for forty years, slowly but surely, they fell in the wilderness... The energy the Christian brought up out of Egypt — natural strength, worldly position, and the like — does not help the spiritual work of God. The chastening hand consumes, yet that very hand is also a hand of blessing, for God, while cutting off the old, raises up "in their stead" the new... "Whom He raised up in their stead," is then a most cheering word.
The verse states the lapse but not its cause. Commentators differ on how to read the gap. Some see the sign set aside, with unbelief making the people unfit to carry it.
Circumcision is a sign in God's people that they are indeed His, separated to Himself according to His purpose... In the wilderness the nation as a whole neglected the rite for nearly forty years. They did not keep up the appointed sign of separation to God from the nations... Yet we read of no call from the Lord to keep up the ordinance as long as they were in the wilderness... In Israel's unbelief we may find the reason why they were unfit to bear the sign that they were the Lord's nation.
Others read the same silence as a serious break. The law tied circumcision to the Passover itself.
The statement in Joshua 5:2-7 is remarkable. It shows the people's complete breach of the covenant with the Lord. Nothing was more basic to that covenant than the ordinance of circumcision. The uncircumcised male child was to be cut off from his people (Gen. 17:14), and no such person could eat the Passover at all (Ex. 12:48). So either Israel ignored these laws, or they almost entirely dropped the Passover toward the end of the wilderness journey, when no one under forty could have been circumcised. How clear the patience of the Lord with the people is!
The sign had lapsed for a whole generation. So Gilgal is a fresh start — and it opens the door to the Passover they had long gone without.
Canaan was theirs only as they were the Lord's, and they had to wear their token of being His. They are circumcised, and so become a new people. All is left behind, "the reproach of Egypt" as it says here. All is cancelled. "Today," the Lord said to Joshua after the people were circumcised, "I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you." He was beginning again with His people... Israel may now keep the Passover as on the night of their redemption from Egypt.
The timing matters. God settled the order before Israel faced a single enemy.
Joshua was not allowed to see a sword — not even in the hand of the commander of the Lord's army — until each Israelite first took the knife to deal with himself. The call to circumcision had done its work before there was moral fitness to use the sword against others.
The same order applies to anyone who wants to be useful against evil.
The cutting off of the flesh is essential if we are to take part in any warfare for God. We must learn to judge the sin of our own hearts, or we cannot judge sin in others.
What Joshua did once with a knife has a daily counterpart, and it is not comfortable.
We have been circumcised in Christ, and God has put off the body of the flesh. So we are to put to death what is earthly in us (Col. 3:5)... By nature we enjoy letting our passions, tempers, and desires run free. To put them to death, to refuse our wishes their own way, to deny our will — that is no painless exercise. "Put to death therefore" is a word that comes home to us all — a word that is like a "sharp knife" to us every day we live on earth.
- Raised up — that generation existed only because God raised sons in place of the men who fell. He cuts off the old and supplies the new.
- Uncircumcised — the sign lapsed for nearly forty years. Some writers see it set aside because of unbelief; others see a broken covenant that would have silenced the Passover too.
- Rolled away — at Gilgal God begins again with His people: the reproach of Egypt gone, the Passover back.
- Knife first — the blade goes to Israel before the sword goes to Canaan. Judge your own sin first, or you cannot judge sin in others.
- Daily — for the believer the knife is not history but habit: putting to death what is earthly in us, every day we live.
And it came to pass when the whole nation had finished being circumcised, that they abode in their place in the camp, till they were whole.
The verse marks a pause in a war. Israel has just crossed the Jordan into enemy land. Instead of marching on Jericho, every fighting man takes the knife and then waits to heal. Why did God ask for this now, and what did the waiting mean?
Human planning would have put this rite before the crossing, not after it. God chose the opposite order.
An uncircumcised Israel could not have beaten their enemies, or even inherited the land. So human reason would say: circumcise them before they cross the Jordan. God's wisdom does not work that way. Grace is first, then afterwards the results of grace. Holiness is the fruit of faith. Israel crossed the Jordan before God led them to Gilgal. In the same way, a believer must know his place as risen with Christ before he can know power to overcome the flesh.
The whole nation went under the knife, ending a long lapse. Nothing less would do, given the war ahead.
For forty years they had stayed uncircumcised, and they would not have thought of it even now. But God never forgets the claims of holiness. … In the wilderness their nature had its own way. In the land the knife had to be used. A nation that leaves its own nature unchecked and unjudged cannot fight the battles of the Lord. It would be like Satan attempting to cast out Satan. Knowing that our sins are forgiven is not, by itself, what fits us to fight the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.
Jericho was still standing, and Joshua put his whole army out of action in front of it.
Joshua showed the courage of faith when he circumcised the thousands of Israelites at that time. Others have called his action "most unmilitary." He put the vast majority of his fighting men out of action. What if the Canaanites had attacked the settlers in their territory? … He knew no fear. His first concern was to obey God.
Lying helpless in the camp declared where their confidence rested.
They were all circumcised at Gilgal, and the reproach of Egypt was rolled away. The act was a public testimony that they had no confidence in the flesh. That rite left them powerless. By it they owned that they depended on God completely. … Their confession was, "We are a people who trust only in Jehovah for victory, and not in ourselves."
And their enemies never came. One writer notes that Israel in the camp at Gilgal "were witnesses to human powerlessness while surrounded by enemies. In themselves there was no strength to overcome. But at the moment of their weakness, the terror of the Lord was on their enemies."
The healing took time. One writer reads that delay as a picture of how God deals with us.
Judging the flesh, or putting it to death, is not the work of a moment. Anyone who claims that self-denial costs nothing has never yet judged himself honestly. … The forgiveness of sins is one act, and it lasts forever. It is not a moral work inside the soul; it is God's act for the soul. Moral work in us is never the business of a moment. We usually need time to see the evil of our nature and how incurable it is. … Israel at Gilgal is a picture of this moral work in the soul. They stayed in their place until they were whole.
One writer connects the rite to Christ, and to a fact already true of every believer.
The flesh cannot enlist in this war. God judges it and sets it aside, and this is what circumcision means. … Circumcision is "the putting off of the body of the flesh" in Christ. It is an accomplished fact for every believer, just as much as the Jordan is for each of us, whether or not we grasp what it means.
Gilgal mattered after the battles as much as before them.
The camp was always at Gilgal. The people — the army of Jehovah — returned there, after their victories and their conquests. If we do not do the same, we will be weak, and the flesh will betray us. We will fall before the enemy in the hour of conflict, even when we entered that conflict sincerely, in the service of God.
- Grace first. The river came before the knife. God brought them in, then asked for the mark of belonging to Him — never the reverse.
- Whole nation. No man was left out. A people who spare their own nature cannot fight God's battles, and forgiveness alone does not fit anyone for that war.
- Weakness chosen. Joshua put his own army out of action on purpose. It was an open confession that they trusted God and not themselves.
- Healing waits. Staying in place until they were whole pictures God's slow work in us. Forgiveness is one act; this takes time.
- Gilgal repeated. Israel came back to the camp after every victory. Leave it, and the flesh betrays us in the next battle.
And Jehovah said to Joshua, This day have I rolled away the reproach of Egypt from off you. And the name of the place was called Gilgal to this day.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the children of Israel encamped in Gilgal, and held the passover on the fourteenth day of the month, at even, in the plains of Jericho.
Israel has crossed the Jordan. Joshua has circumcised the people at Gilgal. Now they camp in sight of Jericho's walls and keep the Passover — the first feast in the land God promised them. Why open life in the new land by remembering the escape from Egypt? And why does the feast come before any battle?
The date was no coincidence. One writer counts the years back to Egypt and sees God's hand in the timing.
In God's ways there is neither chance nor accident. Exactly forty years before the children of Israel camped at Gilgal they were slaves in Egypt. God had arranged their journeys and the date they entered the promised land. So the first feast kept there was the memorial of their rescue.
One writer separates two things that the single word "Passover" covers.
The passover and "the feast of the passover" are distinct. One is the rescue itself, which took place in Egypt. The other is the memorial of that rescue. There was only one passover, but the feast of the passover came every year. The passover was once for all. The feast of it came as often as the years of freedom. Christ's blood was shed once and forever, and our redemption by His precious blood is complete. But the memorial, the feast of remembrance, goes on.
The order in the chapter matters. Circumcision came first, then the feast. One writer ties that order to real communion.
Before Joshua begins his years of battles, the first thing he does is circumcise Israel. That means putting off the body of the flesh, that is, the reproach of Egypt… Afterwards they kept the passover. There is no further record of it in the wilderness years, when they were uncircumcised. There is real communion with what Christ has been. It can only take place when a man is circumcised, when the evil is taken away, and we judge ourselves. Here, to eat the passover, this must be done at Gilgal.
The feast is the same one they ate in Egypt. But the people keeping it now stand on new ground. One writer draws the contrast, and points to the Lord's Supper.
This Passover in Canaan is the same feast the people had kept in Egypt. Yet how different the two were! There, they knew their guilt. They were rushing to flee, sheltered in the darkness and the judgment by the blood of the Passover lamb. Here, the people have landed safe in Canaan, free from the last traces of the reproach of Egypt. They are a risen people who have been through death. Yet they come back in perfect peace to the starting point, the foundation of all their blessings, to sit around the memorials of a Christ slain for them on the cross. The Passover in Canaan corresponds with what the Lord's Supper is for the Christian.
Some think the basics matter less as a believer grows. This feast says otherwise.
The passover itself is now celebrated in Canaan with solemn joy. It is very precious for us that growth in the knowledge of God gives foundation truths a deeper character in the soul. To remember Christ in the breaking of bread was sweet and strengthening from the first. How much more now, when the revealing of the mystery has woven our oneness with Him and with each other into that showing of His death! I am sure that the man who values the gospel most is the one who knows the mystery of Christ best.
Jericho is still standing, and Israel sits down to eat. That order is read as the secret of the victories that follow.
Before going out to fight, Israel must sit at the table of God. To stand up to the hard work of war, Israel must be fed. That is the secret of real strength. And what is the food? Christ. He is the source of strength, and the people will have no victory unless they have eaten first. What a blessed thing to enter into the conflict with hearts fed by Christ.
- Timed — God set the forty-year route so that the first feast in the land recalled the rescue out of Egypt.
- Once — the rescue happened one time only. The feast that recalls it comes round again and again, because redemption is already complete.
- Cut — circumcision at Gilgal came before the table. Real communion follows the putting off of the flesh and self-judgment.
- Deeper — the same feast, now kept with fuller joy in the land. Growth in knowledge makes foundation truths weigh more, not less.
- Then fight — Israel eats before Jericho falls. Strength for battle comes from feeding on Christ first.
And they ate of the old corn of the land on the morrow after the passover, unleavened loaves, and roasted [corn] on that same day.
Israel's first meal in Canaan is grain grown in the land itself, eaten the day after the Passover — food they never tasted in Egypt or in the desert. Commentators ask what it pictures, why it comes only after the Passover, and why it replaces the manna.
A note on wording: where the ESV says "the produce of the land," older translations say "the old corn of the land." The quotes below use that older wording.
Israel has crossed the Jordan. The new place brings new food: they now eat what grew in the ground they stand on.
The "OLD CORN OF THE LAND" was what the Israelites began to eat after crossing the Jordan, when the manna ceased (Joshua 5:11-12). It represents a heavenly Christ. Those who feed on Him have spiritually passed through Jordan — they are, in experience, dead and risen with Christ. The manna, by contrast, is heavenly grace for wilderness circumstances.
The older rendering "old corn" suggests grain kept from a previous harvest. The words that follow in the verse point the other way.
Both "unleavened cakes" and "parched corn" explain the previous words. So "produce" seems to be the right rendering, rather than "the old corn" of the land. Parching was a special treatment of the fresh corn of the land.
Israel had no hand in growing this harvest. Even so, they could not eat it until God had the first share.
The first-fruits had to be waved before the Lord, and then the harvest became the people's. This teaches us that our joy in our harvest of blessings in Christ risen can only feed our souls when Christ Himself has the first place in our thoughts. Christ first, then the fruits of the harvest for ourselves — that is the divine order. If we make our blessings the main occupation of our souls and Christ the second, we shall grow self-occupied, and weakness of spirit will follow.
The food comes in two forms. Each says something about Christ: a spotless life, and a passage through fire.
God gave them a food they had never known in Egypt: the corn of the land of Canaan. This is a heavenly, glorified Christ — but Christ as a Man. He went through this sin-stained world in a spotless humanity; that is the unleavened bread. In that same humanity He passed through the fire of judgment, like the parched corn. And having entered the glory in resurrection, He sits as Man at the right hand of God.
Both were eaten on the same day. One writer draws a practical pair from that: what we must refuse, and what we may enjoy.
The knowledge of our risen position in Christ does not remove the need to watch against the flesh. On the contrary, such high standing ought to make us more unsparing of all that is of this world. We have a nature that loves the leaven of this world. In purging ourselves from this we eat unleavened cakes… While we are here below, unleavened cakes mark our responsibility. The old corn of the land is the grace of God known in its highest aspect. The two keep pace together, eaten on the same day.
The verse dates the meal: the day after the Passover. One writer draws a caution from how closely these foods stand together.
Here the Passover, the manna, and the old corn stand clustered together. If we are really occupied with Christ ascended into heaven, we shall never forget how He came there, and what He did for us on the tree. The reverse, however, is not true. Souls may dwell often on His sufferings and death on the cross. They may have little sense of personal fellowship with Him, and of what He is for us and to us now on the throne. In fact, some would teach us that the true place of a Christian is to be "always at the foot of the cross." Such know Christ as a Redeemer, but not as their ever-living Sustainer. This may account for much of the weakness among so many of God's children.
For Israel the manna stopped the next day. For us, one writer says, both foods still matter — and each does a different work.
If I do not feed on the manna, I shall certainly not be a steady pilgrim — and a pilgrim is someone going to a fixed point. If I do not feed on the old corn of the land, I shall not be a vigorous warrior. We need both. They had both, and both the manna and the old corn of the land are to be our daily food.
The strength this food gives is aimed at conflict, and it is taken personally.
We do not need superior wisdom to have our hearts occupied with Christ; the little children, as well as the men of war in Israel, ate the corn of the land; it is not knowledge, but love, that brings about a healthy spiritual state of soul.
- New place, new food. Crossing the Jordan changes the menu. Manna was grace for the wilderness; the land's produce is a heavenly Christ, the food of those dead and risen with Him.
- New food, freely given. They ate a harvest they never sowed — but only after the first sheaf went to the Lord. Christ first, then the blessings; reverse it and the soul grows weak.
- New food, costly. Unleavened cakes speak of His spotless humanity, parched grain of the fire He passed through before entering glory.
- New food, never without the lamb. The meal comes the day after the Passover. Knowing Christ on the throne never erases how He got there.
- New food, new strength. Manna makes a steady pilgrim; the land's produce makes a vigorous warrior. Both are meant to be our daily food.
And the manna ceased on the morrow, when they had eaten of the old corn of the land; and there was no more manna for the children of Israel; and they ate of the produce of the land of Canaan that year.
The day Israel ate food grown in Canaan, the manna — the bread God had sent every morning for forty years — stopped. Two questions follow: why take away that gift, and what does the new food mean?
The manna was never meant to last. It ran as long as the need that called for it.
Israel as a nation needed to feel deeply that God was enough for them, and how good He was in caring for them. So He feeds them by a miracle — not for a day or a year, but for all forty years of their journey through the wilderness. But when they come into the land, this miraculous supply stops. The need for it is past — both their need for food itself, and the need for a constant witness to God's supreme power.
The timing matters. The manna stopped the day after Israel ate the produce of the land, not before. God did not take away the old supply until the new one was in their hands.
Some translations say "old corn," others "produce" or "fruit of the land." One writer weighs the wording of the verse itself:
Joshua 5:11 tells us of two ways in which the Israelites ate this Corn of Canaan. They ate "the produce of the land the day after the Passover, unleavened cakes and parched corn on that same day." Both "unleavened cakes" and "parched corn" explain the previous words. So it would seem that "produce" is the right rendering rather than "the old corn" of the land; for parching was a special treatment of the fresh corn of the land.
Writers read both foods as pictures of Christ. But each shows Him in a different place.
The corn of the land, like the manna for the wilderness, is a picture of Christ, the food of His people. But in the corn we have the lasting supply of heaven itself before us: Christ risen from the dead. The measure of this supply is not the need of a hungry saint on earth, but Himself in His endless fullness. In the four gospels we see Christ as the manna: Jesus on earth, walking among men. In the Scriptures that present Him as the glorified and ascended Son of God, we see Him as the corn of the land.
The corn speaks of Christ in another place — and Israel did no work to get it:
The old corn of the land does not speak of Christ in humiliation. It speaks of Christ in His present exaltation. He has triumphed over every enemy, and He is seated at the right hand of God. Such food can lift up the heart with unspeakable delight. When Israel first ate the old corn of the land, we read nothing of their having to gather it. It was clearly there for them to eat. In one way this is true for us also. God has done all the work that provides this marvellous food.
Does the daily food belong only to the wilderness? One writer says no:
Though the manna ceased for Israel when they ate of the corn of Canaan, the manna does not cease for us so long as we are on earth. We need Him every day and every hour, and as much at the end as at the beginning of our journey. Grace never displaces grace, nor does one divine favour work against another.
Another writer names what we lose if either food is missing:
If I do not feed on the manna, I shall not be a steady pilgrim. If I do not feed on the old corn of the land, I shall not be a vigorous warrior. We need both.
Enemies still held the land. Yet the first thing Israel does there is eat, not fight.
The Lord does not bring them into conflict at once. First He gives them the corn of the land — the natural growth of the country. The manna ceases, for they are now at home. So we do not just have the strength we need to get through the evil. We also have the joy of feeding on the fruit of the land itself — feeding on Christ in heaven.
- Timing — The manna stopped the day after they ate the land's produce. God removed the old supply only once the new one was already in their hands.
- Reason — The miracle had a purpose: to teach a nation His sufficiency. When the need and the witness were finished, God took the gift away.
- Contrast — Manna pictures Christ coming down into our circumstances. The produce of Canaan pictures Christ risen and exalted. Our need sets the measure of the first; His fullness sets the measure of the second.
- Both — Israel swapped one food for the other. We keep both. The manna makes a steady pilgrim, the corn a vigorous warrior.
- Order — The meal comes before the battle. God feeds His people first, then sends them to fight.