The Politics of Moldy Bread: Deception, Duty, and the Unconsulted God Text: Joshua 9:3-14
Introduction
We are in the full flow of the conquest of Canaan. The campaign has been thus far a staggering success. The impenetrable fortress of Jericho was brought down by obedience and a shout. The embarrassing sin of Achan was dealt with, and the subsequent victory at Ai demonstrated that God's favor had returned to His people. Israel is on a roll. The fear of Yahweh is preceding them, acting as their most powerful weapon.
And it is right at this moment, in the flush of victory and divine vindication, that we come to one of the most instructive failures in the Old Testament. It is a failure not of courage, but of wisdom. It is a failure not in the heat of battle, but in the cool of the council tent. The temptation that brings Israel to its knees here is not a terrifying giant, but a piece of moldy bread.
This passage is a permanent warning against the sin of practical atheism. It teaches us that it is entirely possible to believe God for the resurrection from the dead, and then to fail to trust Him with our Tuesday afternoon decisions. Israel, fresh from watching God work miracles, is about to be completely undone by a clever story. They are about to rely on their senses rather than on revelation, and in so doing, they will bind themselves in a covenant God had forbidden. This is not just history; it is a mirror.
The Text
"Now the inhabitants of Gibeon heard what Joshua had done to Jericho and to Ai.
4 So they also acted craftily and went and traveled as envoys and took worn-out sacks on their donkeys, and wineskins worn-out and torn and mended,
5 and worn-out and patched sandals on their feet, and worn-out clothes on themselves; and all the bread of their provision was dry and was crumbled.
6 And they went to Joshua to the camp at Gilgal and said to him and to the men of Israel, 'We have come from a far country; so now, cut a covenant with us.'
7 Then the men of Israel said to the Hivites, 'Perhaps you are living within our land; how then shall we cut a covenant with you?'
8 But they said to Joshua, 'We are your servants.' Then Joshua said to them, 'Who are you and where do you come from?'
9 They said to him, 'Your servants have come from a very far country because of the fame of Yahweh your God; for we have heard the report of Him and all that He did in Egypt,
10 and all that He did to the two kings of the Amorites who were beyond the Jordan, to Sihon king of Heshbon and to Og king of Bashan who was at Ashtaroth.
11 So our elders and all the inhabitants of our country spoke to us, saying, "Take provisions in your hand for the journey, and go to meet them and say to them, 'We are your servants; now then, cut a covenant with us.' "
12 This bread of ours was warm when we took it for our provisions out of our houses on the day that we left to come to you; but now behold, it is dry and has become crumbled.
13 And these wineskins which we filled were new, and behold, they are torn; and these clothes of ours and our sandals are worn out because of the very long journey.'
14 So the men of Israel took some of their provisions, but they did not ask for the command of Yahweh."
(Joshua 9:3-14)
The Report and the Ruse
The narrative begins with the same force that drove Rahab to faith: "the inhabitants of Gibeon heard" (v. 3). The fame of Yahweh was God's advance guard. But where this report drove the other kings of Canaan to band together in defiant resistance (v. 1-2), it drives the Gibeonites to a different tactic: deception. They are Hivites, part of the doomed consortium of nations, and they know it.
So they "acted craftily" (v. 4). This is the wisdom of the world. It is the wisdom of the serpent. They mount a piece of political theater. Their entire presentation is a calculated lie, designed to appeal to the senses of the Israelites. They load up their donkeys with props: worn-out sacks, torn and mended wineskins, patched sandals, and old clothes (v. 4-5). The centerpiece of their evidence is the bread: "dry and crumbled" (v. 5).
They arrive at Gilgal, the spiritual center of Israel's operations, and they present their case. "We have come from a far country; so now, cut a covenant with us" (v. 6). Their lie is precise. God had commanded Israel to utterly destroy the inhabitants of Canaan (Deuteronomy 7:1-2), but He had given them permission to make covenants with cities "very far from you" (Deuteronomy 20:15). The Gibeonites' entire strategy depends on them fitting into this second category.
Empirical Wisdom vs. Divine Revelation
To their credit, the men of Israel are initially skeptical. "Perhaps you are living within our land; how then shall we cut a covenant with you?" (v. 7). They know the law. They are aware of the prohibition. They understand what is at stake. The problem is not their knowledge of the what, but their method for determining the if.
The Gibeonites respond with masterful diplomacy. When pressed by Joshua, "Who are you and where do you come from?" (v. 8), they begin with flattery and submission: "We are your servants." Then, they give a carefully edited confession of faith (v. 9-10). They have come "because of the fame of Yahweh your God." They recount the miracles in Egypt and the victories over Sihon and Og, the kings beyond the Jordan.
Notice what is conspicuously absent. They say nothing of Jericho and Ai. This is the genius of their craftiness. News from Egypt and the Transjordan might travel far. But news of Jericho and Ai would be recent. Its omission implies they had already been on their journey for a long time, long before those recent victories. Their story is airtight.
Then they present the "proof." They point to their bread, their wineskins, and their clothes (v. 12-13). "This bread... was warm when we took it... but now behold, it is dry." They are inviting Israel to judge the situation based on empirical evidence. They are saying, "Look and see. Touch and feel. Trust your senses."
The Fatal Error
Verse 14 is one of the most tragic verses in the book of Joshua. "So the men of Israel took some of their provisions, but they did not ask for the command of Yahweh."
Here is the sin in two acts. First, "they took some of their provisions." This was the act of acceptance. By eating their food, they were entering into a covenant of peace. They were saying, "We believe your story. We accept your evidence." They fellowshipped with them. They trusted their eyes. They trusted their sense of taste. The bread was, in fact, moldy.
Second, the text gives us the reason for this catastrophic failure: "they did not ask for the command of Yahweh." This is the pivot point. This is the sin of practical atheism. Israel had with them Eleazar the priest. They had the Urim and the Thummim, the means of discerning God's will. They had Joshua, the new Moses, who was commanded to meditate on the law day and night. They had direct access to the command of God.
But the evidence seemed so obvious. Why bother God with this? It was an open and shut case. The bread was moldy. The men were tired. The story checked out. They substituted their own "common sense" for a direct inquiry of God. This is the original sin of the Garden. Eve saw that the fruit was "good for food" and "a delight to the eyes" (Genesis 3:6). She trusted her senses. She did not ask God. Israel does the same. They walked by sight, and not by faith.
The Gospel in the Deception
This entire narrative is a dark picture of our own condition, but it points us to a much greater glory. We, like the Gibeonites, are the inhabitants of a cursed land. We are under the ban, the herem of God's holy law. We are doomed to utter destruction. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).
And like the Gibeonites, we hear the report of a great conqueror, the true Joshua, Jesus Christ. We hear that He has defeated sin and death (our Egypt) and triumphed over the rulers and principalities (our Sihon and Og). And so we come to Him, "acting craftily."
We come to Him dressed in our own righteousness, which the prophet Isaiah tells us is nothing but "filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6). We bring our old, patched sandals of morality. We bring the dry, crumbled bread of our good works. We say, "Lord, look at all we have done. We have come from a 'far country,' a place of religion and goodness, not like those other sinners. We are your servants. Cut a covenant with us."
But here is the glorious, stunning reversal. The first Joshua was deceived. He didn't know who the Gibeonites really were. But the true Joshua, Jesus Christ, is not deceived. He is not fooled by our rags or our moldy bread. He knows exactly who we are. He knows we are from "within the land." He knows we are His enemies, cursed and under the ban.
And the miracle of the gospel is this: He cuts the covenant anyway.
He makes peace with us, not because He is fooled by our filthy righteousness, but because He has chosen, in sovereign grace, to spare us. He does not "take of our provisions." We take of His. He gives us the true bread from heaven, His own body, and the new wine of the covenant, His own blood. Israel failed because they trusted their senses and did not ask the Word. We are saved because we abandon our senses, which tell us we are unworthy, and we trust the Word, who is Jesus Christ.
They failed by not asking God. We are saved because God has already spoken. The question is not, "Lord, should we make a covenant?" The declaration is, "This is the new covenant in my blood." Our duty is not to investigate, but to believe. We are the Gibeonites, saved by a grace that overcomes our deception, and brought into the household of God, not as enemies, but as servants of the true Joshua.