Over Achan they heaped up a large pile of rocks, which remains to this day. Then the Lord turned from his fierce anger.
Joshua 7:26a

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READ: Joshua 7:16–26

“Don’t judge” has become a common push-back when someone feels looked-down upon or misunderstood. And at times, that push-back makes sense. No one should be judged unfairly because of their race, ethnicity, gender, disability, or other such characteristics. As the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. declared in his most well-known speech, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” Most people agree that everyone should be judged by their character.

But what about judging someone by their actions? Don’t actions reflect character? If they’ve done something that is clearly wrong, is it okay to judge them for it? If you’re literally a judge in a courtroom, then yes—but for the rest of us, what does it look like to make judgments about someone based on their actions?

Joshua and the Israelites faced this exact challenge when the sins of Achan were found out. Despite explicit warnings that the gold, silver, bronze, and iron captured in Jericho were to be brought into the Lord’s treasury, a soldier named Achan confessed that he had taken gold, silver, and a gorgeous robe for himself and his family. In today’s world, Achan committed a felony, but not a capital crime; yet the entire nation of Israel joined in stoning Achan to death.

From our 21st-century individualistic mindset, it’s hard to make sense of the violent punishment Achan and his family received because of Achan’s sin. This account isn’t so much instructive (as in, “we should do what Israel did”) as it is symbolic. We can view this unsettling story (and several more to come in the book of Joshua!) as demonstrating that evil actions bring judgment. God cares about character.

A STORY OF THEN & NOW

A Willing Heart | Jonathan P. | Willow South Barrington

When I began leading groups at Willow, I was 23 years old, just starting my career, and unsure of how to fully live out my purpose in Christ. As a young adult, I didn’t have all the answers or years of experience. I simply had a desire to be faithful with whatever God placed in front of me.

After a few months, I was asked not only to facilitate Rooted groups, but to become a coach for other leaders—some who were around my age, and some much older. I was honored, but also hesitant. What did I really have to offer? Would this truly be fruitful for those around me?

Despite having these questions, I chose to lead with an open heart and a posture of authenticity and availability. Even amidst fear and doubt, I did my best to show up for others— not from a place of polish, but from a place of presence. I made the decision to lead in light of how God saw me, not how I saw myself.

To my surprise, the people around me weren’t drawn to my leadership skills or accomplishments. Instead, they were drawn to my willingness to walk alongside them, to call out their gifts, and to help them live more fully into who God created them to be.

This season changed me. While I cherish the relationships that were built, I’m mostly grateful for how it transformed the way I see myself and others. I had judged myself by my age and inexperience, but God judged my heart. God isn’t waiting for the perfect conditions to use you; He’s simply looking for a heart that is willing.

DID YOU KNOW?

For centuries, scholars have tried to make sense out of why Achan’s family was killed for his actions. Some suggest that they must have known about (or participated in) the theft since the items had been buried inside their tent. Others believe they were killed because of the principle of corporate solidarity: the entire household was represented by its head, Achan. Either way, this is a tough story to comprehend. As Mark Twain once said, “It ain’t the parts of the Bible that I can’t understand that bother me, it’s the parts that I do understand.”

A PRAYER

God, I want to understand Your Word, but some things I read may never make sense to me, this side of heaven. Help me take what I do understand here—no stealing from God, no disobeying Your explicit commands—and apply them wholeheartedly to my life. Amen.

FOR REFLECTION

When you or someone you know experiences the natural consequences of wrongdoing, what’s your response? Does it trigger more compassion or more satisfaction? Why?

How do you react to the parts of Scripture that make no earthly sense to you?