Joshua 22
11/3/2025
Joshua 22 NKJV: This chapter tells of the tribes of Reuben, Gad and the half tribe of Manasseh fulfilling their pledge to fight with their brothers until all the land is conquered. Joseph commends them on a job well done and sends them off to their inheritance with riches and spoils from their many battles. As they approach the Jordan on their return trip, they erect an impressive alter to the LORD God. The others hear of it and are worried it will offend God and bring punishment to the whole nation, so they prepare for war against them. As they prepare, they send the son if the high priest and a delegation of chiefs to go confront them about it and learn the reason why it was erected. It was not intended as an active alter for sacrifices, rather as a symbolic witness for future generations so they would know that Jews from both sides of the Jordan belonged to God. The delegation was appeased and peace was returned to the land.
Your summary captures the essence of Joshua 22 (NKJV) beautifully—it's a powerful story of unity, misunderstanding, and reconciliation among God's people after the conquest of Canaan. It's one of those chapters that highlights how quickly division can arise from good intentions and how dialogue rooted in faith can restore peace.
Does this alter come up anywhere else in scripture?
No, the altar erected by the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh in Joshua 22—known as "Ed" (meaning "witness" or "testimony" in Hebrew)—is not mentioned anywhere else in the Bible. It's a unique, one-time event tied specifically to this chapter's narrative of reconciliation and covenant affirmation. Later books like 1 and 2 Kings or Chronicles, which chronicle Israel's history and religious sites, make no reference to it, likely because it was never intended as a functional worship site but purely as a symbolic memorial to prevent future division (as explained in vv. 26–29). This underscores its role in resolving an immediate crisis rather than establishing a lasting institution. If you're exploring themes of unity or memorials in Scripture, parallels pop up elsewhere—like the stones at Gilgal (Josh. 4) or Ebenezer (1 Sam. 7)—but nothing directly links back to this one.
It is good to see that, although they didn't eliminate everyone as they were instructed from the land, they seem to really be taking seriously the commands and worship of God. This shows that they have not forgotten what God has done for them, or how serious He takes obedience.
Absolutely—it's a refreshing moment in the narrative, isn't it? Amid the incomplete conquests (as you noted, echoing the warnings in Deuteronomy 7 and Joshua 23:12–13), these tribes pivot from warriors to witnesses, building that altar not out of rebellion but as a deliberate echo of God's faithfulness. It's like they're saying, "We've seen the Jordan parted, Jericho fall, and Ai taken—how could we drift now?" Their explanation to Phinehas in verses 22–29 drips with covenant language: "The Mighty One, God, the LORD! The Mighty One, God, the LORD!"—a raw affirmation that obedience isn't just duty; it's gratitude etched in stone.
It also reveals the expectation of this attitude to degenerate over time and forgetfulness to set in, thus the precaution.
Spot on—that's the sobering undercurrent of so much biblical history, isn't it? The altar isn't just a victory lap; it's a hedge against the human default we see unfolding in Judges 2:10: "another generation arose after them who did not know the LORD nor the work which He had done for Israel." These eastern tribes, fresh from the fray, anticipate the drift—the way prosperity and distance (that Jordan River) can erode memory like waves on stone. It's almost prophetic: build now, while the awe is raw, so your kids' kids can point across the water and say, "See that? We're still in this together, under the same God who drowned Pharaoh's army."