What Yehoshua's three letters teach us about Shalom

Picture the scene: an entire nation stands on the banks of the Yarden, ready to enter the land Hashem promised them. Armies await on the other side. You'd expect the first move to be sharpening swords. Instead, Yehoshua sat down and wrote three letters.

Those letters — sent to the kings of Canaan before a single battle began — reveal something extraordinary about who we are as a people. And they carry a message we desperately need to hear today.

The weapons that actually mattered

When Yehoshua told the officers to prepare the people for crossing the Yarden in three days, you might assume the camp turned into a military workshop. Soldiers checking armor, testing spears, sharpening blades. That's what any army in history would do.

But Bnei Yisrael weren't any army. Hashem would be fighting for them. So they spent those three days doing something far more powerful — they looked inward. They worked on their Middos, strengthened their Yiras Shamayim, and deepened their Emunah.

Think about that for a moment. On the brink of war, their preparation was spiritual. A nick in a spear could cost a soldier everything, true. But a flaw in character? That could cost an entire nation its connection to Hashem. Bnei Yisrael understood which battle mattered most.

Three letters, one pursuit of Shalom

Here's where the story gets really interesting. Before entering Eretz Yisrael, Yehoshua sent three letters to the Canaanite kings. Not threats. Not ultimatums dressed up as diplomacy. Genuine offers rooted in a deep pursuit of Shalom.

The first letter said: If you want to leave peacefully, go. No one will harm you. And remarkably, one nation — the Girgashites — took the offer. They packed up and traveled to a beautiful, fruitful land. No bloodshed. No conflict. To the relief of Bnei Yisrael, they wouldn't be forced to hurt them.

The second letter said: If you want to stay, you can stay — under two conditions. First, accept the Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach, the basic laws of morality that every human being is expected to live by. Second, agree to become subjects of the kingdom, paying taxes and serving the nation. Why the second condition? Because generations of corruption don't vanish overnight. Without structure and accountability, there was a real risk they'd slip back into their old ways — and drag Bnei Yisrael down with them.

The third letter was the one Yehoshua wished he'd never have to send. It read simply: If you want to make war, come and make war. If the remaining nations refused both peace and submission, Hakadosh Baruch Hu commanded that they must be removed so the Yidden wouldn't learn from their wicked ways.

War was always the last resort

Here's what most people miss about this story. Yehoshua didn't send these letters because he was weak or uncertain. He sent them because the Jewish heart recoils from violence. We don't believe in the glory of war or conquering nations to dominate them.

Our people have always longed for one thing — a peaceful existence where we can learn Torah and follow the ways of Hashem. That's it. That's the dream. Not empires. Not conquests. Just Shalom.

Even when facing nations whose behavior was genuinely terrible, Yehoshua's first instinct was to offer a way out that didn't involve conflict. The Girgashites took that path, and Bnei Yisrael were relieved. The second option provided a framework for coexistence. Only when both paths were rejected did the third become unavoidable — and even then, it was a command from Hashem, not a desire of the people.

Shalom starts with how we prepare

There's a quiet lesson woven through this entire episode that's easy to overlook. The three days of preparation weren't just about getting ready for war. They were about becoming the kind of people worthy of Hashem's protection — people whose first instinct is Shalom, not aggression.

When Bnei Yisrael spent those days working on themselves, they were building the spiritual foundation that made the letters possible. A nation focused solely on military might doesn't pause to offer peace three different ways. Only a people whose inner world is rooted in Torah values could approach a conflict with such moral clarity.

Genuine character development requires honest self-assessment before we engage with the world around us. Bnei Yisrael modeled this perfectly. Before facing their enemies, they faced themselves.

What this means for your life today

You probably aren't sending letters to Canaanite kings anytime soon. But the framework Yehoshua used applies to every conflict you'll ever face — with a neighbor, a colleague, a family member, or even with yourself.

The principle is straightforward: exhaust every peaceful option before resorting to confrontation. And before you engage at all, do the inner work first. Here are some practical ways to bring this into your daily life:

Start with yourself before a difficult conversation. Before addressing a conflict with someone, spend a few minutes in honest reflection. Ask yourself: Am I approaching this with a genuine desire for Shalom, or am I looking to win? Bnei Yisrael's three days of introspection remind us that preparation of the heart comes before preparation for battle.

Offer more than one path forward. Yehoshua didn't give a single take-it-or-leave-it demand. He offered three options. When you're navigating a disagreement, come with multiple solutions. Show the other person you're genuinely seeking resolution, not just your preferred outcome.

Recognize that boundaries aren't aggression. The second letter included clear conditions — and that's an important model. Pursuing Shalom doesn't mean accepting anything. It means setting healthy, principled boundaries while keeping the door open for cooperation.

Make Shalom your first instinct, not your backup plan. It's easy to jump straight to defensiveness when we feel threatened. Train yourself to pause and ask: Is there a peaceful way through this? More often than not, there is.

Learn the stories that shape our values. Dive deeper into Sefer Yehoshua and the rest of Nevi'im Rishonim. These aren't just ancient stories — they're blueprints for how to live with courage and conscience.

The letter we write every day

Yehoshua's three letters weren't just a military strategy. They were a statement about Jewish identity. They declared: we are a people who pursue Shalom with every fiber of our being, who fight only when there's no other choice, and who prepare for the world's challenges by first refining ourselves.

Every day, through our actions and words, we're writing our own letters to the world around us. The question is — which letter are we sending? Are we leading with Shalom? Are we doing the inner work first? Are we offering others a genuine path to peace?

Yehoshua showed us the way. The rest is up to us.