Joshua 20

May 16, 2004

Christ our Refuge                      

It has been more than 90 years since the sinking of the Titanic. Books and movies have immortalized its fateful voyage, but what is most sad about the tremendous loss of life that night is that so many more could have been saved had assistance been provided by another ocean liner, the California, just ten miles away.

The Titanic sent distress signals by wireless, but the California’s operator had already gone to bed, the signals were never heard. The Titanic launched emergency flares, but the crew of California, upon notifying their captain, were told to ignore them, thinking they were only part of a celebration. Nothing was done, no help given and thousands perished.

The captain and crew of the California could easily excuse their actions and shift the blame on Cpt. Smith of the Titanic, for it was he who sailed full speed into dangerous waters and ignored the warnings. The arrogance of the White Star line, of investors, captain and crew were certainly central factors into that disaster, but nevertheless, the refusal to become involved, to listen, to respond is a fault not only of the California, but of us as well.

There are distress signals being sent all around us, and sometimes we ignore them as well: a daughter who doesn't eat; a son whose speech is suspiciously slurred; a friend who withdraws from fellowship as he or she struggles with marital problems. People walk into church, but they are not just like us. Off in the distance we may hear their cries for help, but all too often we fail to listen, to respond, to care.

That we are called to be a people who care for others is well illustrated in our passage this morning, Joshua 20. As Israel defeated the Canaanites and divided up the land among the twelve tribes, the Levites were given their cities in the lands of each of the tribes. Six of their cities were designated as cities of refuge, asylums for those seeking safety from vengeance. These cities instruct us not only about how Christ responds to us, but in turn, how we are to respond to each other. READ Joshua 20.

Once again we see how Joshua was commanded to do what was told to Moses by God. In this case there are to be cities of refuge, asylums for those whose lives are in danger. While it may seem now that Israel is in the Promised Land and the Canaanites are removed, they could breathe easy and enjoy the land over flowing with milk and honey. But before they have the chance to enjoy their land they are forced to deal with the reality of every day life. They need to set aside cities to house murderers.

Historically in that part of the world, if a man caused another’s death, it was incumbent on the next of kin to avenge that death no matter what the reason was for the death. The cities of refuge were provided so that the accused might flee to these cities, be tried in a fair setting and protected if the murder was unintended.

There are two complimentary truths in Joshua 20 which were applicable for Israel 3000 years ago and for Cornerstone today. The twin values of justice and mercy are to be a part of our lives and not set in opposition to one another. Because we believe in justice and mercy, we are called to be a refuge, pointing one another to the protection we have in Christ.

We must value justice

Justice knows that life matters

Although we live in an age in which life is a commodity, to be toyed with for our enjoyment, as seen in our choices of movies and video games, in which life expendable, to be removed if inconvenient, as seen in laws allowing physician assisted suicide and abortion, God’s Word is clear – life matters.

R.C. Sproul in his book In Search of Dignity writes, “Man’s dignity rests in God who assigns an inestimable worth to (each and) every person. Man’s origin is not an accident, but a profoundly intelligent act by One who has eternal value; by One who stamps His own image on each person. God creates men and moves heaven and earth to redeem them when they fall. Our origin is in creation and our destiny is for redemption. Between these points every human heartbeat has value.”  (R.C. Sproul In Search of Dignity 94)

The value of life stems from our being created in the image of God. The sanctity of life is rooted in our creation, in our existence as pointing to our Creator. For this reason the taking of a life is of grave concern, even when that life is ended unintentionally.

Genesis 9:6 makes it clear that justice is to be valued; the one who takes a life shall sacrifice his own life. Where wrong has been done, restitution must be made, and since the murderer can not restore the life of he took, his life will be extracted from him. This principle in the Old Testament is summarized in the famous eye for an eye statue in Exodus 21:23-25.

That law is sometimes criticized for its severity. It was Tevya in Fiddler on the Roof who humorously says, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” – if we did that it wouldn’t be long before the whole world would be blind and toothless.”

But in fact this law does exactly the opposite. The intention of the law is not to escalate crimes, but to limit the penalty, making the penalty fit the crime. It’s not “life for burn” or “eye for bruise”, but “life for life” and “bruise for bruise”.

The one who has taken a life, even though unintentionally, is liable to the avenger of blood.

The avenger of blood (go’el haddam) is best understood and often translated as ‘kinsman redeemer," the one whose job it was to keep his family safe from harm. He bought family out of slavery, purchased land lost to sale, as seen in Ruth. The avenger does not engage in revenge, but in redemption of family loss, and thus comes to mean "redeemer." His mission was not vengeance, but equity and restoration.

To us such a category seems unthinkable, barbaric. But remember in Israelite society there was no police force to investigate crimes. It was the moral responsibility of the family member closest to the victim to investigate and avenge the murder. But this person's own emotional subjectivity, passion, and anger at the loss of his family member would cloud his judgment, and he might not want to go to the trouble to figure out whether it was an accidental killing or whether in fact it was premeditated murder. He might end up avenging the death by indiscriminately killing someone who wasn't guilty of a capital crime. That's why these cities of refuge were needed.

But before we think this too barbaric, it is not that far from the retaliator responses we too feel. After 9/11 it was not uncommon for people to want justice for those killed at the Trade Center, on the planes or in the Pentagon. Several times I have heard it said, “It’s not for me to judge Osama ben Laden, that’s God’s job. Our army is just looking for him to arrange the meeting.”

But while justice is important and to minimize it is to cheapen life itself, we know that justice can easily morph into revenge. The inhumane treatment by our own soldiers of Iraqis and the retaliation of American prisoners by hooded Muslims reminds us that avengers of blood are with us today.

Justice knows that intentions matter

But for justice to be fair, justice must discriminate at to intentions. While v2 calls the man a manslayer, the word is the same as for murderer. But it is further defined as one who struck without intent, in ignorance.

In Deuteronomy 19 where the cities of refuge are described the possible scenario is given where two men go into the forest to chop wood. One man’s axe head flies off and kills his friend. He is to flee to such a city in order to ascertain whether this was intentional or not.

The person is still a murderer, even though not intended. There is an exception to the laws of capital punishment. The act is not ignored: the guilty one simply was to be spared death at the hands of an avenger of blood. He was still culpable, but the law treated him more leniently. Biblical legislation made distinctions in degrees of guilt, God’s law was sensitive to motives and intent of the heart, in providing more lenient treatment for what modern criminal codes call manslaughter.

Keep in mind, while the manslayer’s life is spared, he is exiled for possibly a long time. While his blood will not be required of him, his freedom would only come at the death of another, the High Priest. Sins done in ignorance are still serious and need atonement.

He had to remain in the city to be safe. He was a virtual prisoner. As an exile from his home, he could not cultivate his ancestral fields nor enjoy the fellowship of his family and friends. As a life was lost, God’s image is marred. Just as with the homicide blood had to be shed, so also a life had to be sacrificed for freedom to be found.

We must value mercy

Mercy provides protection

While justice is necessary, mercy is to be provided for his protection. The mercy in our passage is in the form of these cities. The cities were placed for easy access.

In Deuteronomy 19 Moses is instructed that cities are to be located on both sides of the Jordan, three on each side. They are to be evenly spaced throughout the land, so that one seeking asylum, protection from the avenger of blood can get to the city within a day’s journey.

Extra-biblical sources give us more details about how important it was to maintain these highways so that nobody was ever hindered in getting to these cities. Bridges were to be built across every ravine that the highways came to, so that the person running for refuge wouldn't have to waste time climbing to the bottom of the ravine and then up the other side. The highways were supposed to be rebuilt every spring after the heavy winter rains so that the road surface would be smooth and easy to run on. At every crossroads or intersection on these highways, there were to be big, bold signs pointing the way with the word REFUGE in large letters. If someone was running flat-out, they wouldn't have to lose any time slowing down to read the sign.

The manslayer is then to plead his case to the elders of that city. If the evidence points to his lack of intention in taking the other man’s life, he is to be welcomed into the city. The leaders of the city are not to discriminate at all. Verse 9 states that these cities are for the people of Israel and for the stranger sojourning in the land. Mercy was not optional, if the crime was unintentional. Such mercy can be costly.

In Darlington, MD a mother was coming home from a neighbor's house one Saturday afternoon. Things seemed too quiet as she walked across her front yard. Curious, she peered through the screen door and saw five of her youngest children huddled together, concentrating on something. As she crept closer to them, trying to discover the center of attention, she could not believe her eyes. Smack dab in the middle of the circle were five baby skunks. Edith screamed at the top of her voice, "Quick, children...run!" Each kid grabbed a skunk and ran. They were merciful, to their own demise. Mercy is messy.

If elders ascertain the death to be unintended, the city must welcome the man into their town, to give him a home and keep him safe from the avenger. They protect him as one of their own.

Rumor may flow through the land that such a city may have incorrectly been merciful to a man, allowing an intentional murderer in side their walls. They carry the weight of a wounded person, caring for him.

During the Nazi occupation of France, the town of La Chambon, a small village of 700, were familiar with such a concept of refuge. The town was a center of Huguenots, French Protestants who historically had been hunted down and killed. They opened their city to Jews fleeing the Holocaust. They willingly risked arrest and death in order to provide sanctuary for others.

Mercy provides embodiment of Christ

These cities of refuge were living illustrations of the gospel of grace. The man guilty of taking the life, albeit unintentionally, was given a new life. While protected in the town, the town became a prison to him. Freedom came only with the death of the High Priest.

While Numbers 35, Deuteronomy 19 and Joshua 20 do not clearly spell out the connection of the High Priest’s death and his freedom from vengeance, the priest’s death was payment for the sin. The High Priest, who was Israel's chief representative before God. His death atoned for innocent blood. His life was substituted for another.

According to the book of Hebrews, Jesus is our high priest. His death satisfied God's justice for innocent blood, setting us free from the prison of our sin, whether it was intentional or not. This is the thought in Hebrews 6:17-20, that in Christ we have our city of refuge. The similarities between the two are clear.

• Both Jesus and the cities of refuge are within easy reach of the needy person; they were of no use unless someone could get to the place of refuge.
• Both Jesus and the cities of refuge are open to all, not just the Israelite; no one needs to fear that they would be turned away from their place of refuge in their time of need.
• Both Jesus and the cities of refuge are the only alternative for the one in need; without this specific protection, they will be destroyed.
• Both Jesus and the cities of refuge provide protection only within their boundaries; to go outside means death.
• With both Jesus and the cities of refuge, full freedom comes with the death of the High Priest.

A crucial distinction between the cities of refuge and our refuge in Jesus; however, is that the cities of refuge only helped the innocent, but the guilty can come to Jesus and find refuge.

You and I are people on the run. Without God’s gracious intervention, we are in quick flight from God, never to Him. Just as the criminal never seeks the cop, we never go looking for Him, unless He draws us to Himself. Like Adam in the Garden, it is God who pursues us.

The pursuing avenger is the frightening face of a wrathful God. The avenger of blood chases the murderer not with criminal intent, but for justice. While we adore the image of Jesus meek and mild, we quickly forget that if we do not bow before Him as Savior, we will kneel before Him as Judge.

But it is in that frightening pursuit that we run to Christ to find safety in Him. We may flee from Christ’s wrath, but we must flee to Christ refuge. It is by God’s grace that we sense our guilt in breaking God’s Law, for then, we flee from God to God. When we see God’s justice is meted out on the innocent Son of God, then we know that God maintains his justice and his mercy. In Christ we find our freedom.

At the foot of the cross a sure place of refuge is found, for those guilty, not of one form of sin, but of every form of transgression and fault. The only place to find protection from the avenger of blood was in the city of refuge. You could be as repentant as you wanted to be, but if you were any place else besides the city of refuge, it wouldn't matter. And if we don't flee to the refuge that God has provided us in Christ Jesus, there is no spiritual asylum for us, no salvation apart from Him.

Run to Christ, for there you will find safety and shelter. Run for the refuge He provides. In a condemning world with all the reminders of your sinful failure and premeditated rebellion against God, are you tired of running and hiding? The consequences of sin can be dealt with once and for all. You can experience safety, refuge, security, and protection in the arms of Jesus. You don't have to fear the avenger of blood anymore. You don't have to live with the gnawing uncertainty about death itself and what will happen when it confronts you.

As Christ is our city of refuge, we then embody that truth in the church.

It is all well and good to tell people to run to Christ and find acceptance no matter what your sin may be. But if we, as God’s people, as though who have found grace at the foot of the cross, then our words are empty, our lives are sheer hypocrisy.

Cornerstone has no choice but to be a city of refuge for all who are sick and hurting. This church is not a college who accepts only the best and brightest. We are a hospital in which the sick are healed, restored and put to work. As the elders of this church adjudicate the cause of one who seeks to come here, we are to give them a place of rest, of hope, of help. 

During the War for Independence, Major John Andre was captured by the British and sentenced to death as a spy. Unable to run for safety, unable to find refuge from his enemy, he could have become bitter. But his relationship with Christ was where he found his hope. Major Andre was indeed executed in his pursuit of freedom from tyranny, but after he died there was found in his pocket a poem he had written while awaiting his death. His dying words remind us of the need to run for refuge in Christ.