Family Life in the Days of the Judges: Caleb, Othniel & Achsah

A reader with no prior knowledge of the book of Judges who discovered a fragment containing only the first 28 verses of the book would very likely form the impression that he was reading the introduction to a happy, even triumphant, story. The opening mention of the death of Joshua might cause brief concern; even without prior knowledge of Joshua’s biography, it would be clear that this was an inflection point in the history of the nation. However, any concern would quickly be calmed as the narrative moves to Israel’s reliance on the Lord; he would gather, as the narrator surely intended, that God’s continued interest in and care for His people meant that the death of even so great a leader as Joshua was no obstacle to Israel’s continued progress. That impression would quickly be concreted by the nomination of Judah to lead, by the fraternal cooperation demonstrated in the inclusion of Simeon, and by the fact that “the LORD delivered the Canaanites and the Perizzites into their hand” (Jdg 1:4).1

The appearance of the rascally Adonibezek and his rueful acknowledgment that his treatment at the hands of Israel was condign punishment for the indignities that he had inflicted upon threescore and ten kings would reassure the reader that Israel was not just engaged in destruction for the sake of conquest, but was enforcing divine retribution on the inhabitants of the land. That the violence inflicted was neither random nor indiscriminate is underscored by the story of the taking of Bethel, with its reassurance that, just as Rahab had discovered, mercy was available to those who took sides with the people of God. And, perhaps more than anything else, the story of Caleb, Othniel and Achsah would copper-fasten the idea that this is the beginning of a very happy story.

Sadly, one does not have to read very much further in Judges to have that initial impression dramatically altered. Success in driving out the inhabitants, as the instruments of divine retribution, quickly gives way to failure. That some inhabitants could not be driven out is ominous (1:19), but more troubling is the list of those that they “did not” drive out. More alarming still is the information that Israel “put the Canaanites to tribute,” replacing the divine imperative, “Ye shall make no league with the inhabitants of this land” (2:2), with human pragmaticism. And, in place of the smooth transition from generation to generation modelled by Caleb and his family, we contemplate the sad reality that “all that generation were gathered unto their fathers: and there arose another generation after them, which knew not the LORD, nor yet the works which he had done for Israel. … And they forsook the LORD God of their fathers” (2:10-12). And with that, Israel locks into the downward spiral of the rest of the book, all the promise of the first 28 verses forgotten in disobedience, defeat and distress.

All of this has important implications for our understanding of the story of Caleb’s family. The relationships between Caleb, Othniel and Achsah present an ideal that we do not encounter again in the book of Judges. Caleb’s relationship with his daughter and son-in-law and the relationship between Othniel and Achsah offer a template for the sort of godly family life that would have helped to prevent much of Israel’s failure and made the book of Judges far happier reading.

Caleb

We readily recognise Caleb’s status as one of the heroes of the Old Testament. Right from his first appearance he is marked by a willingness to expect great things from God, while attempting great things for God. His words to the people, though unheeded, express the overriding conviction of his life: “Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it” (Num 13:30). Decades later, as a man of 85, Caleb had lost none of his confidence in God, and none of his desire to possess the inheritance: “Now therefore give me this mountain, whereof the LORD spake in that day; for thou heardest in that day how the Anakims were there, and that the cities were great and fenced: if so be the LORD will be with me, then I shall be able to drive them out, as the LORD said” (Jos 14:12). Now, as his story draws to its close, we discover that age has done nothing to dull his ambition.

Although Caleb himself would push back the borders of possession no further, his desire was that the generation that followed him would continue to make progress, continue to possess what God had promised them. It never once crossed Caleb’s mind that the progress of God’s people would stop with him. In this, Caleb offers a sterling model for older believers. Though none of us would articulate the view that God’s work will stop with us, it is all too possible to act as though that were what we believed, to behave and to talk as though the heights of the past will never again be reached, that the best that a rising generation can hope for is, like Tolkien’s elves, to fight the long defeat. Caleb stands as a rebuke to that sort of thinking. His ambition for himself became his ambition for the next generation: to go further, possess more, and to learn the reality of divine power.

Caleb didn’t just assume that this would happen or merely aspire to it. Rather, he did everything in his power to ensure that it would happen. He was prepared to invest in the next generation, to make personal sacrifices for their spiritual benefit. He was prepared to give up his claim on Kirjathsepher, prepared to give his daughter’s hand in marriage, prepared to put himself in a position of vulnerability so that the work might go on. His aspiration for the next generation was not an abstract; it was deeply personal and affected his ambitions for his own and – so far as we know – only daughter. The value of those ambitions is emphasised by the way in which he stands in contrast to his contemporaries: “They took their daughters to be their wives, and gave their daughters to their sons, and served their gods” (Jdg 3:6).

We still need men and women like that, senior saints who are prepared to invest in younger believers, prepared to take a chance, to risk disappointment, to sacrifice time and energy, to do everything in their power to make sure that the next generation doesn’t just hold ground, but goes further in and higher up than they ever did.

Othniel

Successfully negotiating the transition between one generation and the next is neither easy nor simple. It makes demands on both those who are older and those who are younger. Caleb’s exercise for the next generation would have achieved little were there not an Othniel who was prepared to step forward. In doing so, it would seem that Othniel was defying chronology. He belonged to the generation of whom we are told, “There arose another generation after them, which knew not the LORD, nor yet the works which he had done for Israel” (2:10). But to stand with and for God in a generation of departure was nothing new; Caleb himself had done the very same thing at Kadesh (Num 13). Now Othniel was prepared to personally prove God for himself and to prove by his actions the depth of his own convictions and the value that he placed on the possession of the inheritance.

Those of us who have had the privilege of growing up in Christian homes often stand in the shadow of older saints whose knowledge of God and of His power has been mined, at great cost, from the seams of their experience. Like Caleb, they have “known all the wars of Canaan” (Jdg 3:1). Like Othniel, we have much to learn from their example, but for us, too, theory is not enough. To be of real value, we must learn God for ourselves. The continuing presence of enemies in the land was not just the result of human failure; God left them to prove His people and to train them: “Only that the generations of the children of Israel might know, to teach them war, at the least such as before knew nothing thereof” (3:2). Othniel could have lived comfortably on the land already possessed, but he wanted more – and he was willing to gain it by demanding and dangerous conflict. And the gaining of it qualified him for further and higher service; the man who took the City of the Book would be raised up to lead God’s people, and to be their deliverer from the oppression of the euphonious Chushanrishathaim. God still wants us to endure hardness, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ (2Ti 2:3). He still calls us to “watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong” (1Co 16:13). And He still uses for the greater tasks those who have been qualified by their courage and commitment to the lesser.

Achsah

What of Achsah in all of this? Was she just a pawn of the patriarchy, a commodity for the marriage market, an object without agency? Nothing could be further from the truth. The women of Judges are, for the most part, striking characters (literally so, in some cases), and though she occupies only a few verses, few are so vividly delineated as Achsah. She shared with her father an unwillingness to be satisfied with the status quo, a desire to possess more of the inheritance. Like him, she lived beyond the present, planning for future growth, desiring further fruitfulness. The south land, good though it was, was not enough; she must also have springs of water. Her desire is clearly formulated and forcefully, though respectfully, expressed. Indeed, her approach to Caleb speaks volumes for the quality of his parenting. She shows similar qualities in her relationship with Othniel. “She moved him to ask of her father a field” (Jdg 1:14), moving in concert with her husband rather than acting on her own. Although we know nothing of how their marriage developed, the fact that it involved two individuals so united in their exercise is a very promising sign. Theirs was a yoke that was equal in all the important ways. Happy, still, the man who has a wife like Achsah.

Judges presents us with an idyllic picture of generational and gender harmony – idyllic, but not unrealistic, because for this family this is how it was. Their example tells us that it could have been, should have been, like that for everyone. Had it been so, Judges would be a very different book. Were it so today, our family stories and assembly stories and society stories would be far happier too.


1 Bible quotations in this article are from the KJV.