A Strong Donkey in a Good Land Text: Joshua 19:17-23
Introduction: The Theology of Dirt
We live in a gnostic age. Our culture is profoundly uncomfortable with the physical. We want our identities to be fluid, unconstrained by the inconvenient realities of biology. We want our communities to be virtual, unhindered by the limitations of geography. We want our spirituality to be abstract, a set of disembodied ideas that make no demands on our actual, physical lives. In short, we want a kingdom of God that is not a kingdom at all, but rather a celestial book club.
Into this disembodied foolishness, the book of Joshua marches with muddy boots. The back half of this book, which many a modern Christian is tempted to skim, is a detailed, earthy account of land distribution. It is a theology of dirt. We get boundary lines, city lists, and inheritances. It is profoundly, stubbornly physical. Why? Because God is not a gnostic. He created the material world and called it good. He took on a physical body, walked on this physical earth, and will one day return to this physical earth to rule and reign. Christianity is not an escape from the physical; it is the redemption of the physical.
The allotment of the land to the tribes of Israel is the partial fulfillment of the promise made to Abraham centuries before. It is God making good on His covenant word. This is not just about real estate; it is about faithfulness. God promised a particular people a particular place. This place was to be the stage upon which the drama of redemption would unfold. It was to be a new Eden, a land flowing with milk and honey, where God’s people would live under God's rule and be a light to the nations. Their tenure in this land was always conditional on their covenant faithfulness. The land itself would vomit them out if they defiled it with idolatry and injustice. The land, therefore, was a barometer of their spiritual health.
Today, we come to the lot of Issachar. In this seemingly dry list of towns and borders, we find a picture of God's detailed, particular care for His people. We are reminded that our God is not a God of vague generalities, but of specific, concrete blessings. And we see a foreshadowing of the greater inheritance that is ours in Christ, an inheritance that is both spiritual now and will one day be gloriously physical in the new heavens and the new earth.
The Text
The fourth lot came out for Issachar, for the sons of Issachar according to their families. And their territory included Jezreel and Chesulloth and Shunem, and Hapharaim and Shion and Anaharath, and Rabbith and Kishion and Ebez, and Remeth and En-gannim and En-haddah and Beth-pazzez. And the border reached to Tabor and Shahazumah and Beth-shemesh, and their border ended at the Jordan; sixteen cities with their villages. This was the inheritance of the tribe of the sons of Issachar according to their families, the cities with their villages.
(Joshua 19:17-23 LSB)
The Lot and the Families (v. 17, 23)
We begin with the framework of the passage, verses 17 and 23:
"The fourth lot came out for Issachar, for the sons of Issachar according to their families... This was the inheritance of the tribe of the sons of Issachar according to their families, the cities with their villages." (Joshua 19:17, 23)
The first thing to notice is the mechanism: "the lot came out." The casting of lots was a divinely appointed method for discerning God's will in certain circumstances. Proverbs tells us, "The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the LORD" (Proverbs 16:33). This was not a game of chance. This was a confession of faith. Israel was acknowledging that God alone is sovereign over the affairs of men, right down to the boundaries of their homes. This demolishes any notion of autonomous human planning. The final map of Israel was drawn not by surveyors or generals, but by the finger of God.
This has direct application for us. We do not cast lots today because we have the completed Word of God and the indwelling Spirit of God to guide us. Nevertheless, the principle of God's meticulous sovereignty remains. Where you live, who your neighbors are, the specific place God has planted you, these are not accidents. God has determined the appointed times and the boundaries of your dwelling (Acts 17:26). Your address is a divine assignment. Contentment begins with recognizing that your lot, your portion in life, has been assigned by a wise and loving Father.
The second key phrase, repeated like a bookend, is "according to their families." God does not deal with humanity as an undifferentiated mass of individuals. He deals with us in covenant, and the most basic unit of that covenant is the family. The inheritance was not given to individuals to do with as they pleased; it was given to families, to be passed down through generations. This was the foundation of covenant succession. God's promise was to Abraham and his seed. The expectation was that faith would run in the family line, not by genetic transmission, but by faithful covenant nurture. This land was the schoolhouse, the training ground, where one generation would teach the next what it meant to be the people of God. Our modern, radical individualism is a direct assault on this created order. God has set the solitary in families, and it is in the context of family, and the broader family of the church, that we receive and steward our inheritance.
A Litany of Place (v. 18-22)
The body of the text is a list of cities and borders. It can be tempting to let our eyes glaze over here, but we must resist.
"And their territory included Jezreel and Chesulloth and Shunem, and Hapharaim and Shion and Anaharath, and Rabbith and Kishion and Ebez, and Remeth and En-gannim and En-haddah and Beth-pazzez. And the border reached to Tabor and Shahazumah and Beth-shemesh, and their border ended at the Jordan; sixteen cities with their villages." (Joshua 19:18-22)
Each of these names, now obscure to us, represented a real place. A home. A well. A field. A vineyard. This was not abstract theology; this was where the children of Issachar would be born, where they would work, marry, worship, and be buried. This list is a testament to God's particularity. He knows the name of every town. He cares about geography. He is the God of Jezreel and Shunem just as much as He is the God of Jerusalem.
The name Jezreel itself means "God sows." This valley was one of the most fertile in all of Canaan. It was a place of immense agricultural blessing. But it would also become a place of immense spiritual significance and, later, infamy. It was here that Naboth had his vineyard, which Ahab coveted and Jezebel secured through murder (1 Kings 21). It was here that Jehu brought God's judgment upon the house of Ahab (2 Kings 9). And the prophet Hosea would later name his son Jezreel as a sign of God's coming judgment, that He would sow his people in judgment before sowing them again in grace (Hosea 1:4; 2:22-23).
The land is never neutral. It is a stage for obedience or rebellion. The blessings of a place like Jezreel, the "sowing of God," could be received with gratitude and faithfulness, resulting in a bountiful harvest. Or, they could be taken for granted, becoming a theater for greed, idolatry, and bloodshed, resulting in a harvest of judgment. The same is true of the places God has given us. Our homes, our workplaces, our towns, these are our Jezreel. God has planted us there to sow righteousness. What kind of harvest are we cultivating?
We also see the name En-gannim, which means "spring of gardens." And Beth-shemesh, "house of the sun." These names speak of life, fruitfulness, and light. This was a good land, a pleasant inheritance. This brings us to the patriarchal blessing Jacob gave to his son Issachar.
The Strong Donkey's Rest (Genesis 49)
To understand the significance of this particular land, we have to go back to Jacob's prophecy in Genesis.
"Issachar is a strong donkey, Lying down between the sheepfolds. When he saw that a resting place was good And that the land was pleasant, He bowed his shoulder to bear burdens, And became a slave at forced labor." (Genesis 49:14-15)
This is a fascinating and somewhat ambiguous blessing. Issachar is a "strong donkey." This is not an insult. The donkey was a symbol of strength, endurance, and service. He sees that his "resting place was good and that the land was pleasant." This is exactly what we see in the allotment here in Joshua. The valley of Jezreel was a prime piece of real estate. It was fertile, well-watered, and strategically located.
Because the land was good, Issachar "bowed his shoulder to bear burdens." He was willing to work hard to enjoy the fruit of the land. This is a picture of godly diligence. The blessing of a good inheritance is not a summons to idleness, but to faithful labor. The Puritan work ethic is rooted right here. We see the goodness of God's provision, and it motivates us to put our shoulder to the plow.
But there is a warning here as well. The prophecy concludes, "And became a slave at forced labor." The goodness of the land could become a snare. The love of comfort and prosperity could lead Issachar to compromise, to submit to foreign powers who controlled the trade routes that ran through their valley, rather than fighting for their independence. They might choose to pay tribute for the sake of peace and quiet enjoyment of their pleasant land. The blessing could become a temptation to complacency and servitude.
This is a perennial danger for God's people. When God blesses us with prosperity, with a "pleasant land," the temptation is to love the gifts more than the Giver. We can become so comfortable that we are unwilling to fight. We trade liberty for security. We bow our shoulder to the yoke of a pagan culture in order to keep our 401(k)s and our quiet suburban lives. The blessing of Issachar is a call to be diligent workers, but also a warning to be vigilant warriors. We are to enjoy God's blessings without letting them make us soft, fat, and useless for the kingdom.
Our True Inheritance
The story of Israel's inheritance in Canaan is a type, a shadow, of a greater reality. The writer to the Hebrews makes it clear that Joshua did not give them the ultimate rest (Hebrews 4:8). That physical land was a down payment, a foretaste, of the true inheritance that is ours in the Lord Jesus Christ.
Through faith in Christ, we have already received a spiritual inheritance. Peter tells us we have been born again to "an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you" (1 Peter 1:4). We have been delivered from the domain of darkness and transferred into the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Colossians 1:13). The lot has been cast for us, and our boundary lines have fallen in pleasant places indeed (Psalm 16:6).
But this is not the end of the story. We are not disembodied spirits destined for an ethereal, cloudy existence. The promise of the gospel is not the annihilation of the physical, but its resurrection and glorification. We await a new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells (2 Peter 3:13). The meek will inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5). Not a different, spiritual earth, but this earth, renewed and cleansed by fire, remade into the glorious kingdom of our God and of His Christ.
The detailed land allotments in Joshua are a tangible promise that God's redemptive plan includes the dirt, the rocks, the rivers, and the trees. He is reclaiming all of it. Our task now is to live as faithful sons of Issachar in the land God has given us. We are to see that our resting place in Christ is good, and that the promise of the coming kingdom is pleasant. And this should cause us to bow our shoulder to the burden. We are to work diligently, cultivating faithfulness in our families, our churches, and our communities. We are to be strong donkeys, serving the purposes of our King.
And we must heed the warning. We must not become so enamored with the pleasantness of our current blessings that we bow our necks to the yoke of a godless culture. We must be willing to fight. We must contend for the faith once for all delivered to the saints. For the inheritance we have been given is not just for our own comfort. It is a beachhead. It is a staging ground for the expansion of Christ's kingdom, until all of His enemies are made His footstool, and the knowledge of the glory of the Lord covers the earth, as the waters cover the sea.