After
an all-night march from Gilgal, Joshua took them by surprise. The LORD threw them into confusion before
Israel, who defeated them in a great victory at Gibeon. Israel pursued them
along the road going up to Beth Horon and cut them down all the way to Azekah
and Makkedah. As they fled before Israel on the road down from Beth Horon to
Azekah, the LORD hurled large
hailstones down on them from the sky, and more of them died from the hailstones
than were killed by the swords of the Israelites.
On
the day the LORD gave the Amorites
over to Israel, Joshua said to the LORD in
the presence of Israel: “O sun, stand still over Gibeon, O moon, over the
Valley of Aijalon.”
So
the sun stood still, and the moon stopped, till the nation avenged itself on
its enemies, as it is written in the Book of Jashar. The sun stopped in the
middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. There has never been
a day like it before or since, a day when the LORD
listened to a man. Surely the LORD
was fighting for Israel! Then Joshua returned with all Israel to the
camp at Gilgal. (Joshua 10:9-15)
When
you read this passage, you're probably impressed with the sun and the moon
staying in place for a day. It's impressive. You might be wowed by the fact
that more Canaanites were killed by hail than by Israelite soldiers. That
definitely has a wow factor to it. Have
you considered the third miracle, the one that isn't actually mentioned? Put
yourself in their sandals. You've been up all day, doing whatever you do. Word
comes from your boss. You put on your armor and start out at dusk, not for a
stroll but with a stride that says you have somewhere to go and you're already late.
Your goal is to get to a city inhabited by conmen with whom your boss unwisely
negotiated a contract. Around breakfast time, you arrive and start fighting for
your life. Keep that up for thirty-six hours. After all of that, march back to
camp, probably getting there after dark, or maybe the next morning because
there's so much stuff to carry back.
I
suppose it's possible that they had food and water. Perhaps they rotated companies
so that some of the army could rest and eat while others fought but that just
doesn't sound realistic. "Excuse
me, my shift just ended...." and the person who was about to put a spear
through your guts says, "OK, Night, Sam" and lets go punch the time
clock? I might be wrong, but I think it was a miracle.
This
brings to mind an important question. How often do we miss miracles? How often
do we not notice them because they come disguised as something else, or because
they aren't spectacular, or perhaps because they include our working, which
means it can't be a miracle?
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