Sixty years ago President John Fitzgerald Kennedy sent a group of military advisors to a little country in the Far East that most Americans had never heard of. Their government was having some trouble with rebels and turned to the U.S. for help. Who else should they turn to? The United States was the most powerful country on earth. We had recently led the free world in defending South Korea from the Chinese Communists. We had stemmed the tide of the Stalinist takeover of Europe with the Marshall Plan. With unparalleled generosity we had rebuilt the economies of our fallen enemies, Germany and Japan. We were the defenders of freedom, the champions of the weak, the symbol of hope and prosperity for millions around the world. We wore the white hats. We were the good guys.
Ten years later the country was mired down halfway across the globe in a war we had little prospect of winning. America had been torn apart, leaving wounds it would take a generation or more to heal. The nightly news showed shocking sights of atrocities like My Lai alternating with angry students shouting “Hell, no! We won’t go!” to the TV cameras. Ugly images of nervous young national guards - men firing upon students no younger than they - haunted the national consciousness. Authority was a dirty word and patriotism a joke. Returning veterans were shunned if not spat upon. Old values, old ways of ordering and understanding our lives had been uprooted and discarded, leaving nothing in their place. The “Make Love, Not War” generation had discovered bad trips: faded pictures of flower children handing out daisies to policemen had given way to headlines announcing the deaths of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. Three of the nation’s best loved leaders had been assassinated and Watergate was waiting around the corner. The Irish poet Yeats put it well long before it happened here: “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”
What happened? What went wrong? Why did we fail so miserably?
Military historians tell us that we simply blew it strategically. The limitations imposed by domestic politics crippled the military. Our leaders said, "It isn’t really a war, just a 'police action.'” We’re just “helping” the Vietnamese, we can’t tell them what to do. We can’t cross this border. We can’t cross that border. We can’t do this, we mustn’t do that. Some strategists believe that if we had thrown the full weight of U.S. power into the field the war might have been over in a matter of months, with far fewer casualties on both sides. America yielded to the imperative of her own self-image - John Wayne never loses, and never does anything which can’t be filmed. We embraced, and were ultimately imprisoned and defeated by, our own self-deceptions.
A few thousand years earlier, the scene in Joshua 7 probably had a lot in common with pre-Viet Nam America, including a kind of cocky self-confidence born of the certainty of possessing God’s favor. The Israelites were flushed with victory after destroying one of the most important cities in Canaan. God had more or less handed Jericho to them on a plate. Imagine how they must have been feeling; picture the dancing, the singing, the feasting, the telling of tall tales of heroic deeds around the campfires. And underlying all the excitement, dreams of settled prosperity in the land of milk and honey which was now - after 40 years - almost within their grasp.
But then, without any warning at all, things changed. Joshua 7:2 tells us,
“Now Joshua sent men from Jericho to Ai... and told them, 'Go up and spy out the region.' When they returned to Joshua they said, 'Not all the people will have to go up against Ai... for only a few men are there.' So about 3,000 men went up; but they were routed by the men of Ai... They chased the Israelites from the city gate ... and struck them down on the slopes. At this the hearts of the people melted and became like water.'"
What happened? What went wrong? Why did the Israelites fail to take Ai? They weren’t exactly overwhelmed by superior enemy forces; the one percent casualty figure makes that clear. What might the troops have been saying among themselves?
“The old man’s getting past it. God’s not with him any more. Maybe it’s time we got some new blood up there.”
“Hey, Reuben signed up to help win the war, not to help lose it. Let’s go back to Gilead.”
“Joshua should have let the Benjamites lead the raid; Benjamites never run away.”
“The spies blew it; there were at least three times as many men up there as they said.”
The Israelites had every expectation of winning and no clue at all as to why they lost. The obvious answer, the first answer people turn to, is: somebody did something wrong.
But you can do everything right, and still lose.
Many historians believe the United States should never have gotten involved in Viet Nam in the first place. We didn’t know anything about southeast Asia. We should have learned a lesson from the French, who had pulled out because it was no longer worth the trouble and expense to stay. What made us think we could do it? What made us think we should do it? Was our holy war to save the world from communism really the reason, or was it delusions of grandeur, plus a round of geopolitical gamesmanship where we win points by succeeding where the French had failed? I think most people are aware that whatever we were defending in Viet Nam it wasn’t democracy. Was it even worth doing at all?
What went wrong? Was it what we did, why we did it, or how we did it? Does it matter?
Here the account in Joshua 7 clearly parts company with America’s experience in Viet Nam. The answer to the question, “Who elected you moral arbiter of the universe?” was, unarguably, God. In the first chapter of Joshua we see clearly the confirmation of YHWH’s original promise to Abraham, that all of Canaan was to belong to Israel, and that they were to take it by force of arms. Israel was fighting the right war, for the right reasons. What went wrong? Why wasn’t God with them as he had promised?
It wasn’t the goal; it wasn’t the tactics. If the external conditions don’t yield an answer, perhaps the internal ones will. Maybe it was the motivation.
Some analysts have concluded that the root cause of America’s failure in Viet Nam was moral bankruptcy. We can list symptom after symptom of decline. Materialism was the god of the 50’s, the fight against racism had barely begun. Divorce statistics were on the rise; television and other media glamorized rebellion. The “God is Dead” movement seemed to have won the popular culture. But was that necessarily why we lost the war?
Let’s look back at Joshua again. Israel’s disobedience to God was the cause of her defeat. One of the Israelites had stolen what belonged to God, and hidden it. We’re told that right at the beginning of the chapter. "But the Israelites acted unfaithfully in regard to the devoted things; Achan ... took some of them. So the Lord’s anger burned against Israel." [Josh 7:1]
This illustrates a very simple truth. Do not steal. More especially, do not steal from God. This we can apply very easily to America’s situation. We had, as a nation, withheld from God the honor and obedience due Him. But can we assume that this is the reason why we were defeated? Is it that simple? When the Israelites were taken into slavery in Egypt, there’s no hint that it was due to their disobedience. On the contrary; it was because they were so prosperous, so blessed by God, that the Pharaohs considered them a threat.
Maybe the question works better from the other side. Does stealing from God necessarily cause defeat? What happened to Solomon when he withheld from God the exclusive worship that was his due? The retribution fell upon his son, not upon him. And hey - wait a minute - we won in the Persian Gulf - well, sort of - and did sort of OK in Bosnia and Kosovo. But America is certainly not less morally corrupt now than we were in the 1960’s; if anything, things are worse.
I’m confused. It might have been the tactics. It might have been the goal. It might have been our morals. But there’s no resolution. What am I doing wrong? Why am I failing at getting help for my question from a Scripture passage that seems at first glance to apply?
I think I’ve been asking the wrong question all along. My question assumes that failure and defeat are aberrations - rude interruptions to the otherwise tranquil course of human events. But of course, this is not true. Failure and defeat are an inescapable part of life. Sometimes it is due to our sin, sometimes it is not, and sometimes we simply do not know.
Let’s look at the text more carefully. I should have recognized right from the beginning that Achan’s theft wasn’t the key issue in the chapter, because the very first verse tells us exactly what happened. The author could have left it at that, but he chose not to. What does he spend the rest of his time on? Hebrew narrative displays its points through the action of its characters. Where is the action? There is one central event, the fiasco at Ai, which is pretty straightforward, and there are two people: Joshua and Achan. The bulk of the chapter focuses on their behavior.
Imagine, if you can, the Israelite armies the day after the defeat. Perhaps sullen and apprehensive, perhaps murmuring in discontent, rumors and speculation slithering from one camp to the next. In the midst of all the unease, Achan knew what he had done. He was the only one who knew what he had done. He does nothing. Tension mounts as the armies wait. Joshua returns from meeting with God, and says to the people:
"...this is what YHWH, the God of Israel, says: 'That which is devoted is among you, O Israel. You cannot stand against your enemies until you remove it. 'In the morning, present yourselves tribe by tribe. The tribe that YHWH takes shall come forward clan by clan; the clan that YHWH takes shall come forward family by family; and the family that YHWH takes shall come forward man by man. He who is caught with the devoted things shall be destroyed by fire, along with all that belongs to him. He has violated the covenant of YHWH...'” [Josh 7:13-15]
But still, Achan does nothing.
Early the next morning Joshua had Israel come forward by tribes, and Judah was taken. [Josh 7:16]
This took time. Watch in your minds’ eye the leaders of each tribe approaching Joshua, one by one, each one pausing before him to see if God would say, “This man. This man is the one.” And still Achan says nothing, not even when Judah is chosen, and the net draws closer.
The clans of Judah came forward...again, one man at a time, pausing for a moment before Joshua in the hot sun, waiting to see if the hand of God would fall upon him. Remember - none of them knew. Only Achan knew whose clan would be chosen, and he did nothing. "...And he took the Zerahites. He had the clan of the Zerahites come forward by families... " One man at a time came before Joshua to await the judgment of God; by this time the sun may have been getting low in the sky. And still Achan said nothing. "...And Zimri was taken. Joshua had his family come forward man by man, and Achan son of Carmi, the son of Zimri, the son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, was taken." [Josh 7:18] It was not until this moment that Achan acknowledged what he had done.
In stark contrast to this is Joshua’s own behavior. Remember, he had been faithful. He was himself blameless in the defeat. He could have responded in a number of different ways. He could have punished the leaders of the attack. He could have assembled his officers and analyzed the cause of the defeat. He could have changed the strategy and repeated the attack. He could have called the troops together, lambasted them for a bunch of spineless jellyfish and ordered a grueling week of training exercises. But he did none of these things. Instead,
"...Joshua tore his clothes and fell face down to the ground before the ark of YHWH, remaining there till evening. The elders of Israel did the same..." [Josh 7:6] And when he had done so, YHWH said to Joshua, “Stand up! What are you doing down on your face?" [Josh 7:10] And then God told Joshua what to do.
It was Joshua’s response of obedience at this point that is the solution to this event in the life of Israel. The question to ask of God is not, “What went wrong?” or “Why did you do this?” but “What shall I do now?”
Asking God “Why?” is not a bad question, though, don’t get me wrong. It’s a natural question. It is, in fact, one which Joshua himself asks. It is good to ask if our goal, tactics, or hearts were the problem. But it isn’t the important question. But whether the answer is yes, no, or maybe, we can’t stop there. Knowing why - by itself - doesn’t mean anything. Remember: Achan knew why the Israelites were defeated. But he was unwilling to yield himself to God, and so condemned himself and all his family to death. It wasn’t what Joshua knew, but what Joshua did that made the difference.
Whether or not the defeat is corporate, the response - and the responsibility - is always individual. The response “What shall I do now?” recognizes this fact. Each one of us has a responsibility, when failure strikes, to offer ourselves to God for inspection. Although the human response “Why did this happen?” is the normal response to disaster, it is, in effect, calling God to account. On the other hand, the question “What do you want me to do?” is an invitation for God to call us to account.
Nations nowadays do not have the presence of God to point the finger unmistakably upon the culprit in any given defeat, whether military or otherwise. But each individual has the choice of how to respond. They can engage in a circle of blame-casting, each pointing the finger at the next, or they can open their hearts to God to learn how to move forward with integrity and purpose.
You and I can choose to be Achan, unrepentant, hoping that his sin will be overlooked, or like Joshua, willing to take responsibility even though he knew of no sin of his own, or, like most of us, somewhere in between, agonizing over whether or not it was “something I did.” You can stay stuck for years in self-analysis. But when you change your question from “Why?” to “What do you want me to do now?” you are taking your focus off of the defeat, which is painful but which is past, and putting it on the future where it belongs. When you - and I - stop trying to figure out why things went wrong, and trying to figure out God’s motives, and simply do our best to follow Him, then He will lead us to the victory he is promised.
