The Leaven of Gezer: On Not Finishing the Job
Introduction: The High Cost of Cheap Labor
We come now to a small verse, a historical footnote tucked away in a chapter that is largely concerned with boundary lines and inheritances. It is the sort of verse that a modern reader, accustomed to a diet of spiritual sugar, might skim over without a second thought. But in these seemingly minor details of Israel's history, we find profound and lasting principles. These are not just dusty records of ancient land disputes; they are inspired case studies in obedience, and more often, in disobedience.
The book of Joshua is the story of God's faithfulness in giving His people the land He promised. It is a book of conquest, victory, and inheritance. But running like a dark thread through the latter half of the book is this recurring, nagging refrain: "but they did not drive them out." We saw it with Judah and the Jebusites in Jerusalem, and we see it here with Ephraim and the Canaanites in Gezer. This is not a trivial matter. It is the beginning of a rot that will spread throughout the entire nation, culminating in the spiritual anarchy of the book of Judges, and eventually, in exile.
The command from God had been unequivocal. He had told them, through Moses, to "devote them to complete destruction. Make no treaty with them and show them no mercy" (Deut. 7:2). This was not a command born of divine cruelty, but of divine holiness and foresight. God knew that the Canaanite religion, a toxic brew of idolatry, sexual perversion, and child sacrifice, was a spiritual contagion. To leave pockets of it in the land was like a surgeon leaving a few cancerous cells behind in a patient. The short-term result might look like mercy, but the long-term result is death.
But Ephraim, a powerful and prominent tribe, had a better idea. They saw an opportunity for what the world would call pragmatic wisdom. Why exterminate a potential workforce? Why go to the trouble of another battle when you can subdue them and put them to work? They exchanged the hard calling of total obedience for the immediate, tangible benefit of forced labor. They chose economics over ethics, and pragmatism over principle. And in so doing, they planted a snare for their own children's feet.
The Text
But they did not dispossess the Canaanites who lived in Gezer, so the Canaanites live in the midst of Ephraim to this day, and they became forced laborers.
(Joshua 16:10 LSB)
A Calculated Disobedience
Let us be clear about what is happening here. This was not a failure of inability. The text does not say, "they could not dispossess the Canaanites." In fact, it implies the very opposite. They were strong enough to subdue them and make them forced laborers. This was not a military defeat; it was a moral and spiritual failure. They had the power to obey God completely, but they chose not to. They calculated that the benefits of disobedience outweighed the costs.
This is the anatomy of all compromise. We rarely leap headlong into flagrant rebellion. Instead, we rationalize. We negotiate with God's commands. We convince ourselves that partial obedience is good enough, especially when it comes with a worldly advantage. "Surely God will understand," we tell ourselves. "This is just good stewardship. Look at the economic benefit. We are building our houses, tilling our fields. This is practical."
But God does not grade on a curve. His commands are not suggestions to be debated in a committee meeting. They are the words of a sovereign King. When God says, "Drive them out," He does not mean, "Subjugate them and tax them." He means, "Remove the cancerous influence entirely." The Ephraimites thought they could control the Canaanites, that they could harness their labor without being infected by their idolatry. They believed they could manage the sin, extract value from it, and keep it safely contained. This is the perennial delusion of the compromiser. We think we can flirt with the world without being seduced by it. We think we can keep a pet sin on a leash, forgetting that sin is not a pet, but a predator. It does not stay where you put it. It grows, it spreads, and eventually, it consumes.
The Canaanites in Gezer became a permanent fixture, living "in the midst of Ephraim to this day." What began as a pragmatic shortcut became a long-term spiritual contamination. The writer of Joshua, looking back, notes the enduring consequence of this single decision. The thorn they refused to pull out remained to prick them and their children for generations. The gods of the Canaanites did not stay in the servants' quarters. They crept into the homes, the marketplaces, and the hearts of the Israelites. The cheap labor came at the highest possible cost: their covenant faithfulness.
The Modern Canaanites of Gezer
Now, it is easy for us to sit in judgment of the tribe of Ephraim. But we must understand that this principle is timeless. The command for the Christian is not to drive out literal Canaanites with the sword, but to mortify the deeds of the flesh by the Spirit (Romans 8:13). The call is to a radical, uncompromising holiness. "Make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" (Romans 13:14).
And yet, how often do we make our own treaties with the Canaanites of Gezer? We do not drive out our sins; we domesticate them. We turn them into forced laborers. We have sins that we think "serve" us. The bitterness we harbor against someone who wronged us feels like a form of justice; it "works" for us. The little lie we tell to smooth over a business deal provides an economic benefit. The lust we entertain in the privacy of our minds offers a fleeting pleasure. The pride that keeps us from confessing a fault preserves our reputation.
We don't want to kill these sins. We want to manage them. We want to put them to work for our own selfish ends. We convince ourselves that we are strong enough to handle it, that we can keep this "little" compromise cordoned off from the rest of our spiritual life. We think we can have the Canaanites building our cities without having their idols corrupting our children. But we are fools to think so. God has warned us what will happen. "They will become snares and traps for you, and whips on your sides and thorns in your eyes" (Joshua 23:13).
That pet sin you are managing will one day manage you. That secret compromise will become a public humiliation. The leaven you allow in the dough will leaven the whole lump. The world looks at this kind of compromise and calls it balance, moderation, or pragmatism. The Bible calls it disobedience. It is a failure to believe that God's way is truly the best way, that His commands are for our good, and that holiness is a greater treasure than any worldly advantage.
No Neutral Ground
The story of Gezer teaches us that in the spiritual life, there is no neutral ground. There is no sustainable peace treaty with sin. You are either killing sin, or sin is killing you. The Ephraimites thought they had found a third way: enslavement. But in reality, by disobeying God, they were the ones who were being brought into bondage. Their failure was a failure of faith. They did not trust that God, who had given them the land, could also give them the strength and provision they needed without resorting to worldly means.
This is where the gospel crashes in with glorious power. For we are all compromisers. We have all left Canaanites in our own lands. We have all failed to obey completely. Our only hope is not in our own ability to finish the job, but in the one who did. Jesus Christ did not compromise with sin. He did not negotiate with it or try to manage it. He crushed it. He drove it out. On the cross, He took the full curse that we deserved for our half-hearted obedience and our pragmatic rebellions.
Because of His perfect work, we are not only forgiven for our failures, but we are also given the power of His Spirit to fight. The war is not over. The call to drive out the remaining pockets of sin in our hearts is still urgent. We must not be content to make our sins into forced laborers. We must, by the grace of God, put them to the sword. We must be ruthless with our own idolatries, precisely because Christ has been so merciful to us.
Therefore, let us examine our own hearts. Where is Gezer in your life? What sin have you subdued but not driven out? What compromise have you made for the sake of convenience, profit, or pleasure? Do not be deceived. It is a snare. Repent of it. Turn from it. Plead the blood of Christ over that failure, and by the power of the Spirit, rise up and finish the job. For our God is a holy God, and He will not share His throne with the idols of Gezer.