Judges 1
11/06/2025
Judges 1 NKJV: The start of this book seems to be an overlap of the book of Joshua. The part telling of Caleb and his daughter seems to be lifted straight from Joshua, and many of the accounts seem to be a retelling from Joshua. The chapter starts strong in that Israel asks God how to proceed with the dispossessed of the land, and the obey. Things seem to go well for Judah and Simeon as they conquer and drive out the Canaanites. However, the other tribes start failing yo drive them out and resort to imposing tribute instead of destruction. I am sure they figured this was easier and more profitable, although God said to destroy them all.
You're spot on about the overlap—Judges 1 does feel like a bridge straight out of Joshua, almost like a debriefing session after the initial conquests. Scholars often see it as a deliberate recap to highlight what didn't get finished in Joshua's era, setting up the chaotic cycles of Judges that follow. That Caleb story (verses 11-15) is indeed a near-verbatim lift from Joshua 15:15-19, right down to Achsah's bold ask for springs of water. It's a nod to continuity, reminding readers that the promises to the patriarchs (like Caleb's inheritance) are still in play, even as the momentum stalls.
The chapter's arc is a microcosm of the whole book: a high note of unity and obedience at the outset. Verse 1-2 captures that beautifully—"Now after the death of Joshua it came to pass that the children of Israel asked the Lord, saying, 'Who shall be first to go up for us against the Canaanites to fight against them?' And the Lord said, 'Judah shall go up. Indeed I have delivered the land into his hand.'" Judah teams up with Simeon (v. 3), and bam—they're rolling: Adoni-Bezek captured (v. 4-7), Jerusalem taken (v. 8), and Hebron secured with Othniel's win (v. 10-15). It's got that triumphant vibe, echoing Joshua's victories.
But then the pivot hits hard, and it's where the tragedy creeps in. The other tribes—Benjamin, Manasseh, Ephraim, Zebulun, Asher, Naphtali, and Dan—start strong on paper but fizzle out (vv. 21-36). Instead of total devotion to God's command in Deuteronomy 7:1-5 (utter destruction to avoid idolatry), they settle for "driving out... but not completely" or worse, subjecting the Canaanites to forced labor (tribute, as you said). It's pragmatic, sure—why fight when you can tax? But it's a compromise that sows the seeds for the apostasy and oppression cycles in the rest of Judges. God had warned this exact outcome: partial obedience leads to partial possession, and eventually, the "high places" become snares (see Joshua 23:12-13 for the foreshadowing).
What strikes me is how this isn't just ancient history—it's a gut-check on human nature. We start with divine direction, crush the obstacles in our path, then get comfy and cut corners for profit or ease. Ever notice how the text doesn't sugarcoat it? No heroes here, just a nation drifting from conquest to coexistence. If you're diving deeper, Judges 2 picks up the thread with the angel's rebuke at Bochim—total gut-punch.
I realize I was mistaken on events in Joshua. I assumed that the land was conquered prior to Israel dividing the land. It seems to me that they conquered enough for them to move in, divided the land, then it was up to each tribe to finish driving out the inhabitants of their inheritance as they expanded outward; the little by little we discussed previously.
Ah, that's a sharp pivot—and a common one when piecing together the Joshua-Judges transition. You're nailing the nuance: the conquest wasn't a clean sweep before the lots were cast. Joshua's campaigns (those epic set pieces like Jericho, Ai, Gibeon, and the big coalitions in ch. 10-11) secured enough breathing room for Israel to settle in and divvy up the territory, but it left plenty of pockets of resistance. Joshua 13:1 hits like a reality check: "Joshua was old, advanced in years, and the Lord said to him: 'You are old, advanced in years, and a great deal of the land remains to be possessed.'" So yeah, the division (Joshua 13-21) happens amid unfinished business, with each tribe tasked to mop up their allotment as they expand—very much that "little by little" rhythm from Exodus 23:29-30 and Deuteronomy 7:22. God pacing it out to keep the wild beasts in check and prevent the land from becoming a vacuum.
It's like handing out house keys to a half-built neighborhood: you've cleared the main threats, staked your claim, but now it's on the homeowners to evict the squatters next door. Judges 1 zooms in on that handover moment, spotlighting how Judah/Simeon start strong but the rest slack off into tribute deals. No wonder the cycle of deliverance-judges-oppression kicks off so fast; partial obedience turns potential into peril.
This reframing makes Joshua's farewell speeches (ch. 23-24) even more poignant—he's basically pleading, "Finish the job, or it'll finish you."
I know that eventually Israel splits into Israel and Judah, with Judah being the 'good' one. This chapter seems to be early evidence that Judah is more committed to following and obeying God than their brothers.
Spot on—that thread of Judah's relative faithfulness starts weaving right here in Judges 1, like a quiet foreshadowing of the kingdoms' divide centuries later. While the other tribes opt for the path of least resistance (tribute over total conquest), Judah and Simeon charge ahead with that Deuteronomic zeal: capturing Adoni-Bezek, torching Jerusalem, claiming Hebron, and even pushing into the Negev (vv. 3-20). It's not flawless—verse 19 notes they couldn't fully dislodge the valley chariots—but it's a marked contrast to Benjamin's half-measure on the Jebusites (v. 21) or Dan's total stall-out (v. 34-35). Early vibes of leadership and obedience that echo Genesis 49:10's messianic nod to Judah's scepter enduring.
Fast-forward to the split (1 Kings 12), and yeah, the northern kingdom (Israel) dives headlong into calf-worship and Baal-chasing under Jeroboam and his heirs, racking up idolatry like it's a sport. Judah, for all its ups and downs (think Rehoboam's folly or Manasseh's horrors), holds the line longer—tied to David's line, the temple, and prophets like Isaiah who keep calling them back. It's no accident that the southern remnant survives Babylon's axe, preserving the covenant thread into the exile and beyond. Judges plants those seeds: commitment compounds, compromise corrodes.
Lesson: partial obedience is still disobedience. God is faithful and just. If He warns of consequences to disobedience, they are as certain as the blessings for obedience.
Absolutely— that's the raw nerve Judges 1 strikes, isn't it? Partial obedience isn't a loophole; it's a fracture line, and the text lays it bare without apology. Those tribes eyeing the Canaanites as "useful" laborers (vv. 28, 30, 33, 35) might've patted themselves on the back for progress, but God's blueprint in Deuteronomy 7 was crystal: no treaties, no mercy, no coexistence. It's a mercy disguised as a command—sparing Israel from the soul-rot of idolatry that creeps in like kudzu (as we see explode in ch. 2's Bochim lament).
And you're right on God's faithfulness: He's not capricious or vindictive, just relentlessly true to His word. The blessings flowed when they leaned in (Judah's early wins scream it), but so do the thorns—oppression, cycles of regret, judges as desperate resets. It's that justice wrapped in grace, echoing all the way to the cross: full obedience modeled, partial hearts exposed. Ezekiel 18 nails the personal angle later: "The soul who sins shall die," but the turn to life is always one repentance away.