The Peril of Almost: Inheritance and Incomplete Obedience Text: Joshua 13:8-14
Introduction: The Cartography of Covenant
We have come to a section in the book of Joshua that modern readers are tempted to skim. We see lists of names, cities, and geographical boundaries, and our eyes glaze over. We think it is the biblical equivalent of reading a property deed or a phone book. But to do this is to make a grave mistake. These lists are not dusty records for ancient archivists. They are the cartography of God's covenant faithfulness. Every city name, every river, every border is a nail driven deep into the board of history, fastening God's promises to a particular place at a particular time. God does not deal in abstractions. His covenant is not a floaty, ethereal sentiment; it has dirt under its fingernails. It takes up space.
This passage deals with the inheritance of the two and a half tribes, Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh, who chose to settle east of the Jordan. On the surface, it is a straightforward account of land distribution. But underneath, it is a profound lesson on the nature of obedience, the danger of compromise, and the long-term consequences of seemingly pragmatic decisions. These tribes received their inheritance, just as Moses had promised. God is faithful. But their choice to remain outside the heartland of the promise, separated by the Jordan, would have ramifications for centuries to come. They got what they asked for, but their story serves as a sober warning.
There is a great difference between possessing the promise and being possessed by it. The eastern tribes took possession of their land, but their location on the fringe, their incomplete obedience in driving out the inhabitants, and their physical separation from the center of worship would perpetually tempt them to spiritual drift. This passage, then, is a study in the anatomy of "almost." They almost went all the way. They almost obeyed completely. And in the economy of God, "almost" is a dangerous place to build your house.
We must read this not as ancient history but as a living diagnostic of our own hearts. Where have we settled for an inheritance on the borderlands? Where have we chosen comfort and convenience over complete, costly obedience? Where have we left pockets of resistance in our hearts, small pagan enclaves that we think we can manage? This text warns us that such compromises, however small they seem, are never static. They are seeds that will one day sprout into a forest of trouble.
The Text
With the other half-tribe, the Reubenites and the Gadites received their inheritance which Moses gave them beyond the Jordan to the east, just as Moses the servant of Yahweh gave to them; from Aroer, which is on the edge of the valley of the Arnon, with the city which is in the middle of the valley, and all the plain of Medeba, as far as Dibon; and all the cities of Sihon king of the Amorites, who reigned in Heshbon, as far as the border of the sons of Ammon; and Gilead, and the territory of the Geshurites and Maacathites, and all Mount Hermon, and all Bashan as far as Salecah; all the kingdom of Og in Bashan, who reigned in Ashtaroth and in Edrei (he alone remained of the remnant of the Rephaim); for Moses struck them and dispossessed them. But the sons of Israel did not dispossess the Geshurites or the Maacathites; so Geshur and Maacath live among Israel until this day. Only to the tribe of Levi he did not give an inheritance; the offerings by fire to Yahweh, the God of Israel, are their inheritance, as He spoke to him.
(Joshua 13:8-14 LSB)
A Legitimate, Yet Precarious, Inheritance (vv. 8-12)
The text begins by recounting the inheritance of the two and a half tribes on the east side of the Jordan.
"With the other half-tribe, the Reubenites and the Gadites received their inheritance which Moses gave them beyond the Jordan to the east, just as Moses the servant of Yahweh gave to them..." (Joshua 13:8)
The first thing to notice is the legitimacy of this inheritance. It was given to them by Moses, the servant of Yahweh. This was not a renegade act. Back in Numbers 32, these tribes saw that the land of Gilead and Jazer was good for livestock, and they requested it. Moses, after ensuring they would fulfill their duty to help their brothers conquer the land west of the Jordan, granted their request. God sanctioned it. God is not an Indian-giver; what He grants, He grants.
The subsequent verses (9-12) provide the geographical specifics. This is God's faithfulness in high-definition. He gives them the land from Aroer on the Arnon Gorge, the plains of Medeba, the cities of Sihon king of the Amorites, and the vast, fertile kingdom of Og in Bashan. These were mighty kings, remnants of the fearsome Rephaim, the giants. And Moses, empowered by God, had utterly defeated them. This was a blood-bought inheritance, a testament to God's power to overthrow even the most intimidating foes. This land was a gift of grace, won by God's hand, not their own.
But we must see the subtle danger in their choice. They chose their inheritance based on what was good for their livestock. They made a pragmatic, economic decision. There is nothing inherently sinful about that, but their choice prioritized their temporal prosperity over their geographical and spiritual unity with the rest of Israel. The Jordan River was not just a stream; it was a boundary. The land of Canaan proper, west of the Jordan, was the specific land of promise. By settling on the east, they were placing themselves on the frontier, the periphery. And the periphery is always more vulnerable to attack and assimilation. Their choice was legitimate, but it was not wise. It was the good getting in the way of the best.
The Seed of Compromise (v. 13)
Verse 13 is the pivot point of this passage and, in many ways, a grim foreshadowing of Israel's future. It is a sharp, discordant note in the symphony of victory.
"But the sons of Israel did not dispossess the Geshurites or the Maacathites; so Geshur and Maacath live among Israel until this day." (Joshua 13:13 LSB)
Here we have it. After recounting the glorious victories of Moses over the giants Sihon and Og, the narrator inserts a blunt "but." This is the anatomy of disobedience. "But the sons of Israel did not..." God's command was clear: utterly drive out the inhabitants of the land. This was not a suggestion. It was a command rooted in holiness. The Canaanite cultures were saturated with idolatry, sexual perversion, and child sacrifice. To leave them in the land was to leave a spiritual cancer in the body politic. It was like a surgeon removing most of a tumor but leaving a few malignant cells behind, saying, "That's good enough."
Why did they fail to do this? The text does not say, but we can surmise. Perhaps it was weariness from war. Perhaps it was a misplaced sense of compassion, a humanistic pity that contradicted God's holy command. Perhaps it was economic; they saw they could make these people subjects and extract tribute from them. Whatever the reason, it was a failure of faith. They did not believe that God's way was best. They thought they could manage the evil, coexist with it, and perhaps even profit from it.
And notice the result: "so Geshur and Maacath live among Israel until this day." This is not a quaint historical footnote. It is a statement of persistent, cancerous rebellion. That little pocket of disobedience became a permanent feature of the landscape. And it would bear bitter fruit. Centuries later, where would King David's rebellious son, Absalom, flee for refuge after murdering his brother? He fled to his maternal grandfather, the king of Geshur (2 Samuel 3:3, 13:37). The compromise of one generation became the snare of another. The sin you tolerate today will become the tyrant that torments your children tomorrow. This is the central lesson: incomplete obedience is disobedience. There is no middle ground. You either drive out the enemy, or the enemy will one day drive you out.
The Better Inheritance (v. 14)
The chapter concludes with a stark and glorious contrast. After detailing the landed inheritance of the eastern tribes, with their fields and cities, the narrator reminds us of the one tribe that received no land at all.
"Only to the tribe of Levi he did not give an inheritance; the offerings by fire to Yahweh, the God of Israel, are their inheritance, as He spoke to him." (Joshua 13:14 LSB)
At first glance, this seems like the Levites got a raw deal. Reuben gets the plains, Manasseh gets the fertile Bashan, and Levi gets... nothing. No fields, no pastures, no real estate. But this is a failure of spiritual imagination. The Levites did not get a lesser inheritance; they got a better one. Their inheritance was not a piece of the land; their inheritance was the Lord of the land.
Their portion was "the offerings by fire to Yahweh." They were sustained directly by the worship of God's people. They were set apart for the service of the tabernacle, to live in the immediate presence of God. While the other tribes were tending their flocks and fields, the Levites were tending the fire on the altar. While the other tribes were drawing water from their wells, the Levites were drawing near to the fountain of living water. God Himself was their portion and their inheritance (Numbers 18:20).
This provides a stunning critique of the choice of the eastern tribes. Reuben and Gad looked at the land and said, "This is good for our cattle." The Levites looked to God and said, "You are our portion." This is the fundamental choice before every believer. Will we settle for the gifts, or will we pursue the Giver? The gifts are good. Land, prosperity, family, these are all good things. But they are not the ultimate thing. When they become the ultimate thing, they become idols. The Levites teach us that proximity to God is the greatest treasure. Their lack of land was not a deprivation; it was a glorious liberation. They were freed from the distractions of earthly inheritance to focus on the eternal one.
Conclusion: No Coexistence with Cancer
So what do we take from this ancient property list? We learn that God's promises are real, tangible, and geographically specific. He is faithful to give us our inheritance. But we also learn that we are prone to a foolish and dangerous pragmatism. We are tempted to settle on the east bank, to choose what is convenient over what is central, to take possession of the gift without being fully possessed by the Giver.
Most critically, we are warned against the sin of the un-driven-out Geshurite. We all have them. They are those pockets of sin in our lives that we have made a truce with. That lingering bitterness. That secret lust. That love of money. That refusal to forgive. We think we can manage it. We build a little wall around it and tell ourselves it's contained. But this text screams at us that there can be no coexistence with spiritual cancer. You cannot make a pet of a python. It will always grow up to be a python.
The call of the gospel is a call to total conquest. Not by our own strength, for we, like Israel, are prone to weary in the fight. But by the power of the true Joshua, Jesus Christ. He is the one who did not stop halfway. He did not make a truce with sin. He went all the way to the cross and drove it out, disarming the principalities and powers completely. And He calls us to do the same in His strength.
And finally, we are called to be Levites. In the new covenant, all believers are a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). We have all been brought near to God. Our inheritance is not ultimately in this world, not in stocks or land or reputation. Our inheritance is Christ Himself. He is our portion. Let us not, then, be so captivated by the good pastures on the east of the Jordan that we neglect the God who owns all the cattle on a thousand hills. Let us press in, drive out every idol, and lay hold of our true inheritance, which is God Himself.