Rest on All Sides

INTRODUCTION

We are back in the our series 365: A Year of Biblical Literacy.

Today we arrive at a quiet, almost overlooked moment in the Book of Joshua—a three-verse summary near the end of a long, often challenging book filled with wars, conquests, boundary lines, and names we can’t pronounce.

But before we read it, we need to understand what’s happening in the bigger story.

The Book of Joshua is a hinge in the biblical narrative, turning our story from rescue and redemption to living out God’s laws in God’s land. It’s where God fulfills his ancient promise to Abraham by giving Israel the land he swore to their ancestors. The story picks up where Moses left off in Deuteronomy. The wilderness wandering has ended. Now Joshua is called to lead the people into the land where they will dwell forever.

This land isn’t just about geography—it’s sacred space. It's a place where God will dwell with his people, where his presence will shape their lives, where his goodness will transform their communities. But as you read the book, you also encounter hard things—commands to drive out people groups, stories of violence and judgment (Have you heard the kids song, Joshua fought the battle of Jericho? The last line is And the walls came a tumbling down, but it could just as easily be, and he killed all the women and kids.

These accounts can be jarring, especially to modern ears. And honestly? They should be.

We need to name that. The conquest narratives in Joshua are difficult. And we shouldn’t gloss over them.

But we also need to understand the context: this wasn’t a campaign of imperialism or ethnic cleansing. God wasn’t playing favorites.

As Flood and Fury author Matthew Lynch writes, "The Bible insists that this wasn’t about Israel’s greatness—it was about God’s holiness."

In fact, when Joshua encounters the angelic commander of YHWH’s army in chapter 5 and asks, “Are you for us or our enemies?” the answer is, “Neither. Take off your sandals. This is holy ground.”

God is not for Israel’s pride. He is not against Canaanites because of ethnicity. He’s clearing out evil to create sacred space—it’s a new garden, where his presence dwells and his love rules.

Yes, some of the Canaanite cultures practiced horrific things, including child sacrifice. God’s judgment is not arbitrary. It is a response to the kind of evil that dehumanizes people made in his image. And just as God judged Canaan, he later judged Israel for the same sins.

This is not about human vengeance. It’s about divine faithfulness—a God who keeps his promises to bless all nations through his people. And through all of this, we are being pointed toward someone greater—to Jesus—the only fully faithful human, the image of God without distortion, who brings the sort of rest and peace that Joshua’s generation could only glimpse.

PRAY: “God of promise and presence, as we open your Word, help us to hear your voice. These ancient words are not just history—they are holy. So give us ears to hear your faithfulness, eyes to see your love, and hearts that are ready to respond. Speak to us through your Spirit, and show us Jesus—our rest, our hope, our Redeemer. Amen.”

Let’s read together the culmination of this moment in Joshua’s story:

Joshua 21:43–45 CSB

So the Lord gave Israel all the land he had sworn to give their ancestors, and they took possession of it and settled there. The Lord gave them rest on every side according to all he had sworn to their ancestors. None of their enemies were able to stand against them, for the Lord handed over all their enemies to them. None of the good promises the Lord had made to the house of Israel failed. Everything was fulfilled.

God Fulfills What He Promises

Notice the repetition: YHWH (the LORD) gave… YHWH gave… YHWH handed over… 

Everything Israel has is a result of God’s action.

Go back and read the story of Joshua, particularly the first 12 chapters. Israel didn’t conquer the land by military genius. It wasn’t because they were morally superior. It was because God was faithful. He promised, and he followed through.

But we must sit in the tension for a moment—because we know from earlier in Joshua (and even more clearly in Judges) that the conquest was incomplete. There were still enemies in the land. Israel would still struggle. So what do we do with this declaration: “Everything was fulfilled”?

Scholar Lissa Wray Beal helps us here: The fulfillment is real, but not final. God kept his side of the covenant, but Israel’s ongoing possession depended on their faithfulness—and that’s where things start to unravel. Joshua warns them at the end of the book:

Joshua 23:6–8 CSB

“Be very strong and continue obeying all that is written in the book of the law of Moses, so that you do not turn from it to the right or left and so that you do not associate with these nations remaining among you. Do not call on the names of their gods or make an oath to them; do not serve them or bow in worship to them. Instead, be loyal to the Lord your God, as you have been to this day.

But they won’t.

Still, that doesn’t make God less faithful. It makes him more astounding. Even when his people break faith, God keeps his promises.

This is khesed—his steadfast love. Not a contractual obligation, but a deep, personal loyalty rooted in grace.

And here’s the beauty: this same faithful love still moves toward us today.

This is one of the most confounding, most beautiful, most annoying parts of God’s character, the idea that YHWH moves toward humans in faithful love despite the fact that we don’t deserve it at all. There’s a reason why just about every other spiritual path outside of Christianity is utterly merit-based. We’re okay with a supernatural being that controls the universe, to a degree. But I really want to earn my way wherever I go. I want to be worthy of affection, worthy of glory and honor. And so I strive to conquer for myself; I trust in human systems and law codes and band together with like-minded conquerors to see my vision of the good life come to fruition; because (and I believe this is what it all comes down to) if I earn it, I get it a say in what I earn.

But here’s the problem. My heart is twisted and bent toward my selfish ways. I become literally hellbent toward destruction. I struggle to wait on God’s terms or follow God’s ways. And when I do, I become unfaithful to God, unfaithful to my family, unfaithful to my fellow man, unfaithful to what will truly be my good.

On my own, I am unfaithful. I give in to the beast called sin that has taken up residence within me. Apart from God, I am doomed. And apart from God, you are doomed. Because my story is the human story. It’s your story.

So I am glad that God is so good. But more than that, I am glad that he loves me. Because a good God who does not have a relationship with me must destroy me. He must rid the world of my evil to establish his goodness. Instead, because God so loved me—and not just me, but you, and your obnoxious neighbor, and your political rivals, and the homeless community, and those who differ from you in every ideological and moral way. He loves them, faithfully, wholly, completely.

You will never be worthy of God’s good gifts. But thankfully, you don’t have to. Because even when are at our most faithless, God’s faithful love toward us never fails.

Rest Isn’t About Land—It’s About Love

YHWH gave them rest on every side.

When the text says, “The Lord gave them rest,” it echoes Genesis. Rest means not just a lack of conflict—it’s about flourishing. It's Eden restored.

But we know this isn’t the end of the story. The people eventually lose the land. They end up in exile. And the rest they experienced was temporary.

The New Testament picks this up in Hebrews 4: “If Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken later about another day.” The writer says the true rest is still ahead.

So what does that rest look like?

It looks like Jesus.

Jesus redefines rest. Rest is no longer about conquering nations, but about conquering sin and death. Rest is no longer about land and wealth and prosperity—it is “blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Rest is no longer about freedom from oppressive empires—it is about peace in one’s heart. Rest no longer requires the obliteration of the unfaithful many, but about the sacrifice of the perfectly faithful one. Rest does not come from the military might of horses and chariots (or tanks and drones and fighter jets), but from the humble gait of a rabbi on a young donkey.

Jesus makes rest about wholeness, peace, restoration of relationship with God.

Jesus says in Matthew 11:28–30:

Matthew 11:28–30 CSB

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am lowly and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest for your souls.

God always brings about your good, so that you may rest in him. Now, this does not mean you will get what you want. Because what you want may not be the thing that will bring about good rest. Your desires may bring temporary relief, or excitement, or pride; it may put you in step with the Joneses, at least for a moment, but that’s not rest—that’s pacesetting. The rest that God provides means your swords will beaten into plowshares. His rest means sitting by the shade and enjoying the fruit. Rest in Jesus does not invite comparison, because there is none. No Jones can ever compare to the type of rest God gives, because it reaches beyond time and space. This is not a rest for your bones. It is not a rest from your life. It is rest for your life, and it reaches all the way to your heart, your very desires and hungers. It is satisfaction, totally and completely. And no, it doesn’t mean you’re getting the salary you want or the house you want or the toys you want. It’s about finally being relieved of the burden to be your own savior. Your value is no longer defined by what you earn, but by who loves you.

Are you weary? Worn out by religion? Disappointed by people? Anxious about the future? Jesus says, Come to me. I’m the faithful one. I’ll carry the weight.

Jesus is the better Joshua—He brings us into a deeper promised land, a truer rest.

Jesus is the one who keeps covenant even when we don’t.

Jesus is the fulfillment of every good promise—not just to Israel, but to the whole world.

Jesus doesn't drive enemies out with violence—He absorbs our violence into Himself on the cross.

Jesus is our rest.

God Is Not a Tool for Our Greatness, but a Father Who Gives Good

Too many people today treat God like a lucky charm or a lifestyle brand. We want him to help us win, but not to transform us. But the Bible insists: God is not on our side to boost our greatness. He is creating sacred space—where his presence dwells and his love rules.

As Joshua Ryan Butler says in The Skeleton in God’s Closet:

“The gospel is not that God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life. The gospel is that God loves you and has a wonderful plan for the world—and you’re invited into it.”

You may want a job, a relationship, a relief. You may want the promised land to look like your dream home, your success, your comfort.

But God’s rest isn’t always what you want—it’s what you need.

Rest is not pacesetting with the world. It’s peace with God.

Conclusion: The Promise Is a Person

Joshua 21 proclaims, Not one of all the good promises the Lord made to Israel failed. All were fulfilled. And yet, as we’ve seen, Israel’s rest was only partial. The land was a gift, yes—but it pointed forward to something greater.

It pointed forward to Jesus.

Today is Palm Sunday, the day we remember how Jesus entered Jerusalem—not with chariots or swords, but riding on a donkey, fulfilling prophecy not with might but with mercy. The crowd waved palm branches and cried out, “Hosanna! Save us!” And Jesus did—but not in the way they expected.

He didn’t come to conquer the nations, but to conquer sin and death. He didn’t come to bring war, but to bring rest. He didn’t come to drive out enemies, but to welcome in the broken, the weary, the sinner.

Jesus is the ultimate fulfillment of every promise:

He embodies God’s presence, not in a temple, but in a human body.

He keeps the covenant perfectly—the faithful Israelite we could never be.

He shows the full extent of God’s khesed—His loyal love—at the cross, where mercy, justice, and grace collide.

And in Jesus:

The judgment we deserve is taken by Him.

The promise of rest is fulfilled—not just in a land, but in a life lived in God's love.

The mission to bless the nations carries forward—through His Spirit, through His Church, through us.

So the question still stands, just like Joshua asked at the end of his life:

At the end of Joshua’s life, he gives one last great speech to urge Israel

“Choose this day whom you will serve.”

And the invitation of Jesus, on this Palm Sunday, still echoes:

Matthew 11:28 CSB

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

He’s not just a chapter in the story—He’s the center of it. And He’s still riding in—gentle, humble, bringing peace. Will you receive Him?

PRAY: “Faithful God, you have never failed to keep a promise. In Jesus, you fulfilled every word with mercy and truth. As we leave this place, may we walk in that truth. Teach us to trust you in the wilderness, to follow you in faith, and to rest in your love. And may we be a people who reflect your kindness to a weary world, until the day all things are made new. In the name of Jesus—our true Joshua—we pray. Amen.”