The Battering Ram of Worship Text: Joshua 6:6-11
Introduction: The Foolishness of God
We live in an age that worships at the altar of pragmatism. If it works, it must be right. If it is efficient, it must be good. Our political strategies, our church growth models, our personal lives, are all governed by a slavish devotion to "what makes sense" to our fallen, finite minds. We are experts in the art of the possible, and we have little patience for anything that smells of the impossible, the absurd, or the miraculous. We want a God who will bless our sensible plans, not a God who gives us ridiculous plans.
And there is no battle plan in history more ridiculous, from a human point of view, than the one God gives for the destruction of Jericho. Jericho was a formidable, double-walled fortress, the gateway to the Promised Land. Any competent general would have called for siege engines, battering rams, sappers to undermine the walls, and a full-frontal assault. God calls for a parade. He commands a liturgical procession. He prescribes a seven-day worship service as the means of conquest.
This is a profound offense to the wisdom of this world. It is a direct assault on the pride of man, which always wants to have a hand in its own salvation, its own victories. But this is precisely the point. God is teaching Israel, and us, a foundational lesson from the very beginning of their conquest. The land is not won by your strength, your wisdom, or your military might. The land is a gift, and it is received by faith. And faith is simply obedience to the Word of God, no matter how foolish that Word may appear to the unbelieving world. The Apostle Paul tells us that the preaching of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing (1 Cor. 1:18). We must see that the battle of Jericho is a type, a magnificent Old Testament picture, of that same divine foolishness. The victory is not in the arm of the flesh, but in the presence of God and the blast of a ram's horn.
In these verses, we see Joshua, the new leader, faithfully relaying God's bizarre instructions. We see the covenant people of God organized, not as a mere army, but as a worshipping congregation on the march. And we see the central weapon of this warfare deployed: disciplined, faith-filled, silent obedience.
The Text
So Joshua the son of Nun called the priests and said to them, “Carry the ark of the covenant, and let seven priests carry seven trumpets of rams’ horns before the ark of Yahweh.” Then he said to the people, “Go forward, and march around the city, and let the armed men go on before the ark of Yahweh.” And so it happened that, when Joshua had spoken to the people, the seven priests carrying the seven trumpets of rams’ horns before Yahweh passed on forward and blew the trumpets; and the ark of the covenant of Yahweh came after them. And the armed men went before the priests who blew the trumpets, and the rear guard came after the ark, while they continued to blow the trumpets. But Joshua commanded the people, saying, “You shall not shout nor let your voice be heard nor let a word proceed out of your mouth, until the day I tell you, ‘Shout!’ Then you shall shout!” So he had the ark of Yahweh taken around the city, circling it once; then they came into the camp and spent the night in the camp.
(Joshua 6:6-11 LSB)
Covenantal Chain of Command (vv. 6-7)
The action begins with Joshua's faithful transmission of God's orders.
"So Joshua the son of Nun called the priests and said to them, “Carry the ark of the covenant, and let seven priests carry seven trumpets of rams’ horns before the ark of Yahweh.” Then he said to the people, “Go forward, and march around the city, and let the armed men go on before the ark of Yahweh.”" (Joshua 6:6-7 LSB)
Notice the order. God spoke to Joshua, and Joshua speaks to the priests, and then to the people. This is the structure of covenantal authority. God does not rule His people through a chaotic free-for-all of individual revelations. He establishes order, offices, and a clear chain of command. The priests, the ministers of the holy things, are addressed first because this is fundamentally a priestly, liturgical action. The central object is the Ark of the Covenant, the very footstool of God's throne. This is not primarily a military operation with a religious flair; it is a worship service that happens to have military consequences.
The priests are to carry two things: the Ark and the trumpets. The Ark signifies the presence of God Himself. Where the Ark goes, God goes. His presence is the entire basis for their confidence. Without the Ark, this is just a pointless walk in the sun. With the Ark, it is a divine invasion. The trumpets, seven of them, are rams' horns, the shofar. These were not instruments for making pretty music. They were for sounding an alarm, for announcing the Jubilee, for declaring the presence and judgment of the Lord. Their blast is the voice of God entering the battle ahead of His people. The number seven, of course, screams covenantal perfection and completion. Seven priests, seven trumpets, seven days of marching, seven circuits on the seventh day. God is going to do a complete and perfect work of judgment and salvation.
Then Joshua addresses the people. The armed men are to go before the Ark, and as we see in a moment, a rear guard will follow. The entire congregation is arranged around the presence of their King. The soldiers are not there to fight the walls. They are there as an honor guard for the true warrior, Yahweh of Hosts. They are witnesses to the salvation of the Lord. Their role is to guard the procession and to be ready for the aftermath, but the victory itself belongs to the Lord alone.
The Liturgical Procession (vv. 8-9)
The command is immediately put into action, and the text describes the formation of this strange, holy parade.
"And so it happened that, when Joshua had spoken to the people, the seven priests carrying the seven trumpets of rams’ horns before Yahweh passed on forward and blew the trumpets; and the ark of the covenant of Yahweh came after them. And the armed men went before the priests who blew the trumpets, and the rear guard came after the ark, while they continued to blow the trumpets." (Joshua 6:8-9 LSB)
The structure is deliberate and freighted with meaning. First, the armed vanguard. Then, the priests blowing the trumpets. Then, the Ark of God's presence. And finally, the rear guard. The entire nation of Israel is bracketing, protecting, and honoring the presence of God in their midst. This is a picture of the church militant. We move forward in this world with the presence of Christ as our center. Our worship, the proclamation of the gospel, goes before us, announcing the kingship of Jesus. And the people of God, armed with the sword of the Spirit, surround this reality.
The text emphasizes that the priests "continued to blow the trumpets." This was not a single blast to start the march. It was a constant, unceasing proclamation. Imagine the scene from inside Jericho. Day after day, this silent army appears, led by priests blowing these eerie, mournful, and yet terrifying horns. It was psychological warfare of the highest order. But more than that, it was spiritual warfare. The sound of those trumpets was a declaration in the heavenly places. It was God announcing that this pagan citadel, this monument to human pride and demonic religion, was being claimed for His kingdom. It was the sound of judgment for Canaan, and the sound of inheritance for Israel.
The Discipline of Silence (v. 10)
Joshua now adds a crucial, and perhaps the most difficult, command.
"But Joshua commanded the people, saying, “You shall not shout nor let your voice be heard nor let a word proceed out of your mouth, until the day I tell you, ‘Shout!’ Then you shall shout!”" (Joshua 6:10 LSB)
This is the weapon of silence. The army, likely tens of thousands of men, was to march in total silence. No battle cries. No taunts. Not even a whisper. Why? This command serves several purposes. First, it focuses all attention on the only "voices" that matter: the trumpets of God. Human bravado, our shouting and boasting, contributes nothing to God's victory. God does not need our noise to win His battles. He needs our quiet, trusting obedience. This silence is the very posture of faith. It is a humble acknowledgment that salvation is of the Lord.
Second, this silence was an act of immense discipline. It is one thing to march; it is another to march in absolute silence while your enemy is likely screaming insults from the walls. This cultivated a spirit of patience and self-control, forcing the Israelites to trust the process, to wait on God's timing. The flesh wants to rush in, to "do something." Faith is content to wait for the word of command.
Third, this silence is a polemic against paganism. Think of the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, shouting, crying aloud, and cutting themselves with swords to get their god's attention (1 Kings 18:28). Pagan worship is a frantic, noisy, human-centered effort to manipulate the gods. True worship is a quiet, confident trust in the God who has already spoken and who will certainly act. The silence of Israel was more terrifying to Jericho than any war cry could have been, because it bespoke a deep and unnerving confidence in a power that was not their own.
Obedient Repetition (v. 11)
The verse concludes with the summary of the first day's strange activities.
"So he had the ark of Yahweh taken around the city, circling it once; then they came into the camp and spent the night in the camp." (Joshua 6:11 LSB)
They did exactly as they were told. They circled the city one time and went home. And they would do this for six straight days. This is the daily grind of faith. Victory in the Christian life is rarely a single, spectacular event. More often, it is a long obedience in the same direction. It is the quiet, daily, repetitive act of circling the Jericho of sin in our lives, in our families, and in our culture. We bring the presence of God to bear, we sound the trumpet of the gospel, and we do so in quiet trust, day after day, often with no visible results.
From the outside, it looks like nothing is happening. The walls are still standing. The enemy is still secure. But with each obedient circuit, something is changing. The foundation of unbelief is being shaken. The sentence of judgment is being enacted. God is working, unseen, in response to the simple, faithful obedience of His people. They did not need to understand the physics of how a parade could topple walls. They only needed to trust the God who gave the command.
The Gospel According to Jericho
This entire account is a living parable of the gospel. Every one of us is born outside the promised land, and before us stands an impregnable fortress. It is the fortress of our own sin, the high walls of our rebellion against God, fortified by the world, the flesh, and the devil. No amount of human effort can breach those walls. Our best strategies, our most strenuous efforts, our loudest shouts, are utterly useless against them.
But God, in His mercy, provides a way. He does not ask us to knock the walls down. He brings His presence to us. The Ark is a type of Christ. Jesus Christ Himself comes and circles our rebellious hearts. And what is the sound that goes before Him? It is the trumpet blast of the gospel, the declaration that He is King and that judgment is coming, but forgiveness is offered.
And what is our role? We are commanded to be silent. We are to stop all our self-justifying arguments, all our proud boasts of righteousness, all our fleshly efforts to save ourselves. We are to shut our mouths and simply trust. We are to "let not a word proceed" from our mouths, but rather to believe in our hearts that God will do what He has promised. This is the silence of faith, which receives the gift of salvation not through striving, but through surrender.
And when we have by faith been silent, waiting on Him, then and only then does He give the command to shout. "Then you shall shout!" This is the shout of praise, the cry of victory that does not achieve the victory, but rather celebrates the victory that Christ has already won. At the cross, the walls of our sin and condemnation came tumbling down. And our first act as redeemed citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem is to lift up our voices, not in a cry for help, but in a shout of unending praise to the one who fought for us. The battle is the Lord's, and so is the glory.