Joshua 10 has one of the most remarkable miracle stories in the whole of the Old Testament outside the opening chapters of Genesis. Fresh off of victories at Jericho and Ai, Joshua’s Israelite army faces down a coalition of five Amorite kings; victory is swift, and with the enemy on the run, Joshua commands the sun and moon to stop moving, apparently in order to give the Israelites more time to pursue and slaughter the Amorites. So great is this feat that the narrator exuberantly declares, “there has been no day like it before or since!” and the chapter eventually ends with Israel in firm control of the Judahite heartland.

This passage, sometimes referred to as Joshua’s Long Day, is a puzzler. Exactly what kind of miracle is supposed to have occurred here? What traditions is the author working with? Answering these questions has proven quite difficult, since voluminous books and papers have been written on Joshua 10, and there is a remarkable diversity of opinions on every facet of the story among biblical scholars.

The passage is also interesting for its role in the debate between science and religion that has embroiled theologians, church authorities, and other interested parties since the time of Galileo and Copernicus. Even today, the interpretations given by those with a more conservative perspective reveal much about the thinking of modern biblical literalists.

The Defeat of the Five Kings—A Summary

Let’s look a little more closely at the overall narrative in its final form, and then get into the details. You can read the passage here, so I will only be quoting snippets.

When we last left Joshua, he and the Israelites had destroyed Jericho and Ai, and then had gotten snookered by the sneaky Gibeonites, who posed as foreigners from a distant land to secure a peace treaty and avoid becoming the Israelites’ next victim.

In this story, Gibeon is an impressively large city of warriors, and their treaty with Israel frightens the other kings of the land. The king of Jerusalem decides to lead a coalition with four other kings to attack Gibeon, which in turn sends messengers to Joshua asking for help. Joshua and his army spend the night travelling to Gibeon, but when they arrive, Yahweh himself takes charge of the battle. He throws the enemy into a panic and slaughters them in huge numbers. As the survivors retreat, Yahweh pounds them with boulders or hailstones from the sky. Joshua then commands the sun and the moon to stop moving, and at this point, the narrator quotes an excerpt of poetry that is said to be from the Book of Jashar:

“Sun, stand still at Gibeon,

and Moon, in the valley of Aijalon.”

And the sun stood still, and the moon stopped,

until he took vengeance on the nation of his enemy.¹

Joshua’s order causes the sun to stop in mid-sky, giving the Israelites an extra day’s worth of dayilght to pursue the fleeing soldiers. The five kings are caught and executed at Makkedah, and the Israelites proceed to capture and destroy five Canaanite cities—all during that one long day, it would seem.

The Historicity of Joshua 10

Before we look more closely at the sun miracle, we need to know what kind of text we’re dealing with. In particular, I want to give a taste of how complex and difficult to interpret the entire passage is.

Let’s get the easy problem out of the way first: historicity. To put it bluntly, this story is not historically accurate. It never happened. This conclusion is based in part on archaeology. As Yigal Levin, professor of Israelite history at Bar-Ilan University, puts it:

Very briefly, Jericho, Ai, Gibeon, Hebron and Jarmuth don’t even seem to have been settled during the Late Bronze Age, not to mention conquered during the Early Iron Age. Lachish and Hazor, which for so long were considered examples of the archaeological evidence fitting the biblical text also seem problematic upon closer examination. All of the other towns mentioned have either not been conclusively identified or not been excavated. (pp. 363–364, see bibliography)

The internal biblical evidence is equally decisive: the account in Joshua 10:1–27 is contradicted on numerous points by the follow-up story in verses 28–43, by an alternate account in Joshua 15, and by yet another alternate account of Israelite conquest and settlement in Judges 1. Jerusalem was supposedly unconquered until the time of David despite its defeat in Joshua 10 and another conquest in Judges 1. Also according to Judges 1, Hebron and Debir were conquered by Judah and Othniel after the death of Joshua. These stories cannot all be historically accurate.

Table 1. Parallel Accounts of the Hill Country Conquest

(Blue text indicates alternate Old Greek readings.)

Joshua 10:1-27 Joshua 10:28–43 Joshua 15:13–19 Judges 1 Adonizedek / Adonibezek ,

king of Jerusalem Adonibezek, king of Jerusalem Hoham / Ailam , king of Hebron Hebron and its king Hebron and the three sons of Anak, Sheshai, Talmai and Ahiman (conquered by Caleb) Hebron (Kiriath-arba) and its leaders Sheshai, Talmai and Ahiman

(conquered by Judah) Piram / Phidon , king of Jarmuth Japhia, king of Lachish Debir, king of Eglon / Adullam Eglon / Adullam Debir and its king Debir (Kiriath-sepher)

(conquered by Othniel) Debir (Kiriath-sepher)

(conquered by Othniel) Makkedah and its king Libnah and its king Lachish Horam / Ailam , king of Gezer

Narrative Cohesion

That the text is a composite work is evident from its editorial seams and incongruities. Most of the following observations come from Israeli scholar Baruch Margalit (1992, see bibliography below).

The description of Gibeon in v. 2 as “a large city like one of the royal cities” populated entirely by warriors (like a Canaanite version of Sparta) seems inconsistent with ch. 9, in which its lowly residents become menial slaves to the Israelites.

Why is Joshua so keen on helping the Gibeonites? We get the impression from ch. 9 that they are con-artists whom Joshua would not risk the Israelites’ well-being for. Furthermore, their peace treaty says nothing about requiring Israel to come to Gibeon’s defence.

The reassurance from Yahweh telling Joshua to “fear not” in v. 8 seems out of place. The previous verses gave no reason for needing such assurances, and Joshua did not even inquire of Yahweh for instructions before setting out.

V. 10, in which Yahweh takes over the battle, seems to make the effort of the Israelites in vain. The role of Joshua’s army is reduced to chasing down survivors in far-flung corners of the hill country. (Some translations, like the NIV, make Joshua and the Israelites the agents of destruction instead of Yahweh, but that is not what the Hebrew says.)

There are serious geographical issues. I will go into more detail below, but to give one example: it makes no sense for Joshua, having pursued the enemy to the Lachish/Makkedah area, to return to his distant camp at Gilgal (v. 15), and then to resume the campaign at Makkedah shortly thereafter. The statement that the Israelites “returned” to their camp at Makkedah also makes little sense in context (v. 21).

The follow-up campaign (vv. 28–43) is essentially an alternate version that contradicts the first half of the story as the passage now reads. For example, if Joshua killed the king of Hebron at Makkedah (v. 26), how is it that Joshua attacks Hebron and kills its king again a few verses later (v. 37)?

Geographical and Chronological Issues

The timeline of the story, even given an extra 12 or 24 hours of sunlight, is implausible. It begins with the overnight march of the Israelite army from Gilgal to Gibeon. This is some 26 km as the crow flies—all uphill—and probably 30–40 km if roads are factored in.

Armies in the ancient world could not go very far without their supply train and other material support. According to my research, an army that used ox-carts could move about 16 km (10 miles) per day. Logistical advances many centuries later allowed Alexander the Great to travel 20 km (13 miles) per day, a rate “simply unheard of before Philip [of Macedon’s] reforms” (source for all the above). 30 km in one night is a nigh-impossible feat for an army in the late Bronze Age.

And it gets worse. The Israelites pursue the enemy to Azekah and Makkedah, another 50 km or so from Gibeon. (Mind you, we’re not even sure where Makkedah was; some scholars locate it even farther away, south of Lachish.) Joshua’s brief, mid-day return to the camp at Gilgal is a 90-km detour each way. And that’s not to mention the tour of Libnah, Lachish, Eglon, Hebron, and Debir that follows—which the text seems to suggest all occurred that same day. And then there is one final return to Gilgal (v. 43). This is a campaign that should have taken weeks.

Margalit, observing that “the narrative as attested makes no sense geographically,” proposes that the author responsible for the current text was raised in Babylon under the exile and had poor knowledge of Canaanite geography (p. 487).

Manuscript Variation

The Old Greek (Septuagint) version of Joshua 10 differs on some significant details, and some experts on the text, particularly Kristin De Troyer (see bibliography), think it reflects an earlier Hebrew version.

For example, in the Greek, Joshua’s returns to Gilgal in vv. 15 and 43 are missing. (A later reviser wanted to emphasize Gilgal as Joshua’s headquarters.) Hebron is ruled by a different king named Ailam. King Adonizedek of Jerusalem is called Adonibezek, which is also his name in Judges 1. (Graeme Auld suggests it was altered in Hebrew to resemble the name “Melchizedek” from Gen. 14.) Eglon is replaced by an entirely different city, Adullam. King Horam of Gezer (v. 33) becomes king Ailam of Gezer or Ailam of Gaza, depending on the LXX version.

The Quotation from the Book of Jashar

Now let’s look at the heart of the Long Day miracle: the quotation from the Book of Jashar in vv. 12b–13a. The Book of Jashar—a name meaning “book of the upright” or possibly “book of songs”—is explicitly quoted two or three times in the Old Testament and was apparently an ancient collection of Israelite poems.

The poetic excerpt itself lacks any historical context. It portrays the Sun and Moon as personified cosmic entities, standing still over Gibeon and the nearby valley of Aijalon while the nation takes vengeance upon its enemies. Yahweh is not directly mentioned, and I’m not sure that “taking vengeance” is an apt description of the situation in Joshua 10.

What does it mean for the Sun and Moon to “stand still” upon command? Some scholars think it is basically what it sounds like: the sun and moon halting in their motion across the sky to extend the daylight hours. Others believe the Sun and Moon are standing by during a fierce theophany (manifestation) of Yahweh the storm god, as suggested by the parallel language in Habbakuk 3:

The sun raised high its hands;

the moon stood still in its exalted place,

at the light of your arrows speeding by,

at the gleam of your flashing spear. (Hab 3:11)

Margalit, however, notes that Hab. 3 is textually corrupt, and according to the early Greek “Barberini” manuscript, which may reflect an older reading, the sun actually stops shining.

A light held back the brilliance of the sun,

but the radiance of the moon stayed;

according to the radiance of your missiles they shall go forth,

according to the radiance of the lightning of your sword.

(Hab. 3:11, Barberini manuscript, NETS translation)

This “daytime darkness” motif can be found in other ancient sources. The basic idea is that Yahweh, as the lord of the heavenly host (the sun, moon, and stars), may command them to accompany him into battle, leaving the heavens “unattended and devoid of illumination” (Margalit p. 483).

The Song of Deborah, an ancient poem included in Judges, describes a similar event in which the stars from heaven fight on behalf of Israel:

The stars fought from heaven,

from their courses they fought against Sisera.

The torrent Kishon swept them away,

the onrushing torrent, the torrent Kishon.

(Judges 5:20-21a)

Other scholars agree that Josh. 10:12-13 and Hab. 3:11 describe a darkening of the sun rather than a halting of its motion. (Cf. John Day, 2000, p. 154)

Whatever the case, it is generally agreed that the compiler of Joshua 10 has taken this poem from its original context and incorporated it into a new setting. As the passage now reads, the story is clearly about the Sun stopping to prolong the day. What exactly is the author of the final work trying to depict?

Yahweh the Sun God?

The are several reasons for thinking that Yahweh was originally associated with sun worship when the religion was introduced to Judah and the temple in Jerusalem. This passage may lend additional support for that position. OT professor J. Glen Taylor (University of Toronto) points out that we should expect Joshua to pray to Yahweh, and for Yahweh to command the Sun to stop. But what we actually have is an introduction to the poem, “Joshua said to Yahweh” (v. 12), followed by Joshua’s command to the sun without any change in speaker. The summary in v. 14 says there has been no day like it before or since, for Yahweh heeded a human voice. The logic only works if Yahweh is to be understood as the Sun himself. Taylor concludes:

…the poetic fragment must be taken to clearly imply a one-to-one correspondence between Yahweh and …’Shemesh-in-Gibeon’. [Note: Shemesh is the name of the sun in Hebrew]

[…] First, only on the assumption that Yahweh-in-Gibeon is the sun can one take seriously the claim that it was unusual for ‘Yahweh’ to listen to the voice of a man (which Yahweh regularly does with Joshua and others in DH). Secondly, only on the assumption that Yahweh was the sun at Gibeon can one account for the way in which Yahweh’s listening to the voice of a man is implied by its placement in v. 14b (that is, after the halt of the sun) as a phenomenon equal to or even greater than the sun’s miraculous arrest in mid-heaven. (p. 118)

An alternative interpretation is given by Jeffrey L. Cooley (Boston College). He notes that in the theology of the Deuteronomist (the author(s) responsible for the final form of Deuteronomy through 2 Kings), just as Yahweh was the god of the Israelites, the other nations had their own proper gods. He suggests that this story is about Yahweh taking command of two Canaanites gods—the Sun and the Moon—thereby asserting authority over that region on behalf of the Israelites.

For the [author], the sun and moon are, in fact, proper gods of the Canaanites, assigned by Yahweh to this task. Even if the Israelites were commanded not to worship them, according to Deut 4:15–19, receiving worship is precisely the role that the sun and moon were to fill for the nations. […] These celestial deities, who would otherwise be protecting their people, the Amorites, were made subservient to the Israelites’ own sovereign, Yahweh, who acknowledged Joshua’s order and fought on his behalf. (pp. 295)

Thomas Römer holds a similar view, stating that the text is meant to show Joshua’s authority over the sun and the moon—important Assyrian deities—implying that Yahweh and his chosen leader are superior to the Assyrian pantheon. (Römer p. 89)

A Composite Narrative

Having established that the author took a poetic fragment about a theophany involving the sun and moon and put it in a new, re-mythologized context about the sun obeying Joshua’s command, what do we make of the story itself?

The difficulties with the story are more readily understood if we take seriously Margalit’s theory that Joshua 10:1–27 is a combination of two separate stories: a non-miraculous story about Joshua conquering five Amorite kings, and a “holy war” story in which Yahweh assists Joshua in defeating the mighty warriors of Gibeon. This would explain the importance of telling the reader how mighty the Gibeonites are, and why Yahweh has to reassure Joshua of victory. His arguments are compelling but too lengthy to fully describe here.

An integral part of the holy war segment is the boulders hurled by Yahweh at the fleeing army. At one point (v. 11), these are called “hailstones”, but they seem to have been actual rocks—at least originally. The reader is meant to understand that these are the same boulders rolled in front of the cave at Makkedah—first to trap the five kings, and then to seal shut their tomb. The passage ends by stating that the stones remain there “to this very day”, suggesting an etiological function: the author knows of such a cave, and this tale provides an origin story. (See Cooley, p. 294; Noort, pp. 388–393.)

The continuation of the battle, vv. 28 onward, is (as already mentioned) a separate story welded onto the first half of the chapter. It features no supernatural manifestations at all, and the details of the cities and their kings differ somewhat. Note, for example, that Debir, a king in v. 3, becomes (more correctly) a city in v. 38.

To sum up so far, the story in Joshua 10 is one of several parallel, but different, accounts of the Israelite conquest of the Canaanite hill country. The heart of the story consists of a remarkable holy war in which Yahweh himself fights for Israel by slaughtering the enemy and pounding them with boulders from heaven. Embracing the holy war theme, the author incorporates an ancient theophany poem known to him; its original context might have intended a “daytime darkness” as the celestial deities accompanied Yahweh into combat, but the new context implies a lengthening of the day and the obedience of the sun to Joshua’s command.

Ancient Literary Context

Many of the miraculous features of Joshua 10 also appear in other ancient literature. For example, in the Iliad, general Agamemnon prays to Zeus to extend the day:

Zeus, most glorious, most great, the one of the dark clouds, that dwellest in the heaven, grant that the sun set not, neither darkness come upon us, until I have cast down in headlong ruin the hall of Priam … burned with consuming fire. (Illiad II:412-415)

We also know of of ancient Near Eastern accounts of military campaigns in which an entire region is said to have been conquered in a single day (see van Bekkum, p. 294). In other words, the miraculous events of Joshua 10 are not unexpected for this period and genre of writing.

The Impact of Joshua’s Long Day on the Debate Between Religion and Science

Copernicus’ discovery that earth and the planets revolved around the sun was first published in 1543, and it stunned the religious world. Many theologians rejected his conclusions, since they contradicted the view clearly taught by the Bible: that the earth was stationary, and that the sun revolved around it. Joshua 10 became the keystone in this intellectual battle. The fledgling Protestant movement had invested in supreme biblical authority as its main weapon against Rome, and science threatened to undermine their efforts. Mainstream theologians thus continued to deny heliocentrism well into the 17th century.

Intellectuals who did accept the new scientific findings worked hard to rationalize Joshua 10 with the Copernican worldview, and many of their arguments are still repeated today. Rheticus, Copernicus’s student, believed that Joshua 10 used accommodating language for the average reader, while the real miracle was that the earth itself had stopped rotating. Hugo Grotius proposed that a cloud on the horizon had reflected the light of the setting sun, making the day seem to last longer. (See Gnuse, pp. 394-400 for these citations.)

In fact, there is still a religious fringe that insists on geocentrism—the Bible-Science Newsletter associated with the Creation Research Society promoted it as late as the 1960s (Numbers, p. 237). However, the great majority of today’s Christians accept the scientific model of the solar system.

Still, for many, Joshua 10 remains an important litmus test of a Christian’s commitment to the truth and accuracy of the Bible. A nuanced understanding of the text’s evolution and essential non-historical nature as given above is unacceptable for the biblical literalist and the churches whose views are represented by the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy. But since the sun and moon clearly did not stop moving across the sky in the literal manner described, another explanation must be sought—one that affirms the story as “true” yet sounds plausibly scientific. What interpretive strategies do modern conservative Christians follow?

A Survey of Non-Academic Explanations of Joshua’s Long Day

One interesting example is that of Harry Rimmer, a Presbyterian minister and outspoken champion of the Bible’s scientific and historical accuracy in the early 20th century. In his view, the Israelites simply wanted relief from the midday heat, and Joshua’s command was actually for the sun to be “silent” and shine less brightly. Yahweh then responded with a refreshing hailstorm that cooled the Israelites (!). (Source: Numbers, p. 69)

Most conservative interpreters don’t take quite as many liberties with the text, but their explanations are no less creative. William Dankenbring, a prominent voice in the Armstrongian Church of God, claimed that a comet had temporarily disrupted earth’s rotation (The Creation Book for Children, 1976).

Henry Morris, the de facto founder of the “creation science” movement, posited that both the earth’s rotation and the moon’s revolution were miraculously halted, producing a “unique atmospheric upheaval” that resulted in killer hailstones (The Defender’s Study Bible, 1995).

Chuck Missler, a popular evangelical Christian author and speaker, claims that a near-encounter with the planet Mars in 701 BC altered Earth’s own orbit (from a 360-day year to a 365-day year!), and that a similar encounter with Mars may have caused Joshua’s long day and “several other biblical episodes”. Missler’s claim appears to rely on a bestselling pseudo-scientific book called Worlds in Collision that was published in 1950. Written by a Russian psychologist, it claimed that various ancient myths could be explained by a near-collision between Earth and a rogue Venus in the 15th century BC, followed by close encounters between Earth and Mars in the 8th and 7th centuries BC as a result of orbital changes caused by Venus. Missler does not directly cite this book, however—perhaps due to its poor reputation in the scientific community; nor does he refer to any legitimate scientific literature to back his claims of catastrophic planetary encounters. However, Missler does cite Jonathan Swift’s 1726 novel Gulliver’s Travels—which included a lucky guess that Mars had two moons—as evidence for a source of ancient astronomy knowledge that Swift somehow had access to. It truly boggles the mind.

Yet another semi-coherent, though admittedly creative, explanation was published in the COG’s official newsletter The Journal this past June (issue 174). According to the author, Pallant Ramsundar, the earth must have made a backwards “orbital loop” that kept the same side of earth facing the sun. As far as I can tell, this fails basic physics, since the spin of the earth isn’t dependent on the trajectory of its orbital path. (Credit to Otagosh for alerting me to this one.)

Most Christian books and study Bibles, however, are unwilling to commit to anything so far-fetched. A typical approach is that taken by Apologetics Press, which pooh-poohs such complicated explanations and simply states that the event was a “miracle”. Whether it was a local miracle (a mirage?) or a universal one is left up to the reader, just so long as you believe with all your heart that it (whatever “it” was) happened.

Biblical Scholarship Meets Christian Apologetics…the Best of Both Worlds?

Some genuine, credentialed Bible scholars try to keep a foot in both worlds—popular theology (including apologetics) and secular biblical studies. In principle, any effort to apply the findings of the academy to religious doctrine and practice should be lauded. Nevertheless, the attempt by some scholars to rescue the historical accuracy of Joshua 10 has produced interpretations that neither side is likely to find satisfactory. I came across several such examples in researching this article, but one will suffice.

John H. Walton of Wheaton College contributed an essay to a 1994 biblical studies volume (see bibliography) that developed a theory proposed some decades earlier by John Holladay (see bibliography). In Walton’s view, the reader is supposed to deduce, from the poetic description of the sun being over Gibeon and the moon over Aijalon (to Gibeon’s west), that the sun and full moon must be just over the horizon on opposite sides of the sky—meaning, in turn, that it must be early morning on the 14th or 15th day of the month according to the lunar calendar. If it’s the 15th, that would be a bad omen according to certain Neo-Assyrian omen texts. A bad omen for whom? Not for the good and pious Israelites of course; they wouldn’t have believed that superstitious nonsense. No, a bad omen for the Amorites, dampening their morale and causing them to fight poorly. In short, Joshua’s command to the sun is really a prayer for a bad horoscope for the Amorites.

The weaknesses of this approach are immediately apparent. The pairings of “Sun” with “Moon” and “Gibeon” with “Valley of Aijalon” (an adjacent region) are isocolons—poetic repetitions that repeat set pairs or variations of elements (see Gevirtz, p. 49). Such doublets are ubiquitous in Hebrew poetry. These geographical names are probably not meant as an obtuse way of conveying the date or time of day. (Even concluding that the sun is in the east and the moon in the west is reading too much into the text. After all, if Joshua is approaching Gibeon from Gilgal, both locations are to the west.) Furthermore, the Neo-Assyrian omen texts were written many centuries later than the events depicted in Joshua 10, and there is no evidence of Canaanites holding those particular astrological beliefs. Walton’s position also requires us to ignore the statement in v. 13 that the sun delayed its descent for a full day, as well as the fact that Joshua’s command only occurs after the battle is already won. But worst of all, it renders the miracle nonexistent. It’s as if Joshua prays for it to be Thursday because the Amorites “never could get the hang of Thursdays.” What kind of miracle is that? Such an interpretation does a serious disservice to the text. Walton anticipates this objection and rather lamely protests it in his essay, saying “The role of God is not diminished just because the event prayed for might have happened without human prayers” (p. 190).

Walton’s hypothesis has gained few followers. Cooley calls it “less than convincing” (p. 254), and van Bekkum says “this idea is not as satisfying as it is often suggested” before giving several reasons to discount it (p. 282). Hall (p. 171) and Day (2007, p. 121) similarly dismiss it.

Nevertheless, in an article written for BioLogos, a Christian think-tank that promotes science (particularly evolution) from a biblical perspective, Walton presents his non-miraculous omen theory as the definitive interpretation of Joshua 10 in order to assure the reader that the story is “credible” and presumably historically accurate. (What is the reader to make of conflicting biblical accounts or the archaeological record? Walton does not say.) I fear articles like that one are not much of an improvement over Missler’s Mars Attacks theory. Now, taking ancient beliefs about astrology and omens into consideration is not in and of itself stupid; what I find problematic is the selective application of scholarship to protect certain religious positions from criticism and dissent.

Despite what some might think, I believe there are plenty of Christians (even of the “Bible-believing” variety) who want to know what critical scholarship can tell them about texts like Joshua 10. They deserve honest answers that acknowledge the difficulties and ambiguity of the scriptures, not reassurances that the story is believable if you strip it of its miracles.

Footnotes

The exact translation of the last line is uncertain, since the Hebrew specifies no subject.

Bibliography

Yigal Levin, “Conquered and Unconquered: Reality and Historiography in the Geography of Joshua”, The Book of Joshua (BETL 250), ed. Ed Noort, 2012.

Baruch Margalit, “The Day the Sun Did Not Stand Still: A New Look at Joshua X 8-15”, Vetus Testamentum 42/4 (1992).

Ed Noort, “Joshua and Copernicus: Josh. 10:12–15 and the history of Reception”, Flores Florentino: Dead Sea Scrolls and other early Jewish studies in honour of Florentino Garcia Martinez (SJSJ 122), 2007.

Kristin De Troyer, “Reconstructing the OG of Joshua”, Septuagint research: issues and challenges in the study of the Greek Jewish scriptures (Society of Biblical Literature Septuagint and cognate studies Vol. 53), 2006.

Robert Karl Gnuse, No Other Gods: Emergent Monotheism in Israel (JSOTSup 241), 1997.

J. Glen Taylor, Yahweh and the Sun: Biblical and Archaeological Evidence for Sun Worship in Ancient Israel (JSOTSup 111), 1993.

Graeme Auld, Joshua: Jesus Son Of Nauē in Codex Vaticanus (Septuagint Commentary Series Vol. 1), Brill, 2005.

Jeffrey L. Cooley, Poetic Astronomy in the Ancient Near East: The Reflexes of Celestial Science in the Ancient Mesopotamian, Ugaritic and Israelite Narrative (HACL 5).

Thomas Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction, T&T Clark, 2005.

John Day, “Gibeon and the Gibeonites in the Old Testament”, Reflection and refraction: studies in biblical historiography in honour of A. Graeme Auld (SVT 113), Brill, 2007.

John Day, Yahweh and the Gods and Goddesses of Canaan (JSOTSup 265), 2000.

Koert van Bekkum, From Conquest to Coexistence: Ideology and Antiquarian Intent in the Historiography of Israel’s Settlement in Canaan (CHANE 45), Brill, 2011.

Ronald L. Numbers, The Creationists: The Evolution of Scientific Creationism, Random House, 1992.

John H. Walton, “Joshua and Mesopotamian Celestial Omen Texts”, Faith, Tradition, and History: Old Testament Historiography in Its Near Eastern Context, 1994.

John Holladay, “The Day[s] the Moon Stood Still,” JBL 87 (1968) 166–78.

Sarah Lebhar Hall, Conquering Character: The Characterization of Joshua in Joshua 1–11 (LBI/OTS 512), T&T Clark, 2010.