Moreover Ruth the Moabitess...ye are witnesses this day. (Ruth intro)

The book of Ruth is actually one of my favorite books for a number of both straightforward and odd reasons. The straightforward ones are mostly pretty self-evident. In the aftermath of the sex and violence of the book of Judges, (and yet, chronologically in the middle of it!) we finally see a story that's largely built in a framework of love, kindness, devotion and faith. This is a love story, which is unfortunately very rare in the Bible, unless of course you're willing to see the Bible as a whole being a love story between God and mankind.

Actually, it's that very sort of perspective that is the basis for the odd reasons that I love this book. This is by no means my own original point of view, but rather a conglomeration of thoughts that I have heard and read in various places: This book is, in a bizarrely symbolic way, something like the entire Bible in miniature, an allegory of the whole of God's relationship with His people, both the chosen nation of Israel and the gentile nations that eventually come into a relationship with Him. It's largely for this reason that I am going to approach my discussion of this book in a manner that is different from the manner in which I have discussed previous books.

The other reason that I am going to diverge from my usual apologetic style is the fact that the book of Ruth is not largely a book that has many reasons to take issue with its content. Yes, there are issues, but those issues are few and far between, and easy enough to respond to. The fact that Ruth is from Moab is an issue because Deuteronomy 23:3 says that "[a] Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of the LORD; even to their tenth generation shall they not enter into the congregation of the LORD for ever:" This is noteworthy, as of course the very reason the story of Ruth is in the Bible is that she is the great-grandmother of King David, a person we might assume to have entered "the congregation". While apparently some might want to call this a contradiction, at worst we can only say that the law as outlined in this verse was not followed in the case of this family. It may actually be that this is an injunction against a male Moabite only, in which case Ruth is clear, since she was married to an Israelite. (Interestingly, David escapes the injunction of the law in the previous verse of that chapter, as he is ten generations removed from Pharez, the bastard child of Judah. It has been suggested to me that technically this is a non-issue as well, since the term translated "bastard" means something slightly different to Israelites, but I'm not clear on the full technicalities of that.) Pretty much all other issues of the book have to do with cultural differences between ancient Israel and modern western culture. Something that astute readers pick up is the very risqué nature of the premarital relationship between Ruth and Boaz; while it's not 100% clear that they had sex nor that they refrained from sex, they are in many moments shown in a rather compromising position, what with Ruth sneaking into Boaz's bed at night and asking him to cover her with his own clothing. Even if there was no actual physical contact between them, in that era and culture, this was pretty scandalous--and yet served a specific calculated purpose on the part of the players involved. The fact that some of the phrasing may be a euphemism for sex isn't conclusive in my mind; Ruth and Naomi may simply have been using such phrasing to hint at their interest in Boaz as a husband for Ruth. In the end, Boaz "buys" Ruth to be his wife, not because she is some sort of commodity to be bought or sold in herself, but because the fortunes of Naomi's family are caught up in a debt that was incurred before Ruth became her daughter-in-law, and all of what we see unfold in this story is framed in ancient Israelite customs of real estate, debt and inheritance that I will discuss in greater detail later, as it turns out to have larger implications than just this story.

In order to fully understand those customs and what they imply, a deep look into the themes of this book will need a look into related passages throughout the Bible ranging from Genesis 2 through Revelation 5. Let's see what I can do with this...

Am not I a Benjamite, of the smallest of the tribes of Israel? (Judges 21)

Ah, doesn't this story keep getting better? No, not really. Apparently all of a sudden, the Israelites start realizing that--especially to the extent that they have butchered an entire tribe of Israel--two wrongs don't make a right. So naturally, they do what anyone would, and decide to see if maybe three wrongs will do the trick.

Since they had made a vow that they would never allow their own daughters to marry one of the Benjamites, they're in a quandary. They want to help the remnant of this tribe rebuild, but they can't do it without breaking their vows. The remaining Benjamites might have women of their own actually, but since there are such a small number of survivors of this genocidal rage we saw in the previous chapter, it seems to me that those women would probably be the daughters and sisters of the surviving men. Or it may be that they truly did destroy every city, and all inhabitants, which would have been all the women, the only survivors being a handful of fleeing Benjamite soldiers. Whatever the particulars of the situation, the Israelites show their moral fiber when they have to choose: On the one hand, they can break their rashly-made and morally-pointless vows, or they can kidnap, murder and pillage in the town of Jabeshgilead, the inhabitants of which are not bound by such a stupid vow and, apparently alone in all Israel in that day, had no blood on their hands. They of course choose the latter; you can't expect them to break their word, can you?

So they kill every man and every non-virgin woman in the city. I have no idea why this was supposedly necessary rather than simply kidnapping the virgins, but I don't understand much that these people do. (You almost imagine, what with the way they've conducted themselves in the previous chapter, that they got together and said, "But what if someone from the town complains?" Think...think...think. "I've got it! We'll just kill everyone, then they can't complain!") They bring the women back to the survivors of Benjamin, but there are only 400 virgins for what I assume is about a thousand soldiers. So, not nearly enough. What to do?

Solution? More kidnapping! (At least they didn't kill anybody else, I guess.) The people assembled, who I assume were not from the region of Shiloh, suggest that during an upcoming festival in Shiloh, the remaining unmarried Benjamites lie in wait for some young women who will come out to dance in the vineyards as part of the festival. If they simply drag these women off and marry them, then it's reasoned that their fathers will not be breaking their vows, since they didn't willingly allow their daughters to go. So they do it.

Summing up, kidnapping, lying, scheming, rape (of female virgins), arson, stealing, and mass murder are all considered to be preferable to breaking one's vow to the Israelites during this time, for "every man did that which was right in his own eyes."

Why am I summing up rather than explaining or excusing? I don't think there's much one can explain, and pretty much no excuse for this behavior. You can't blame it on God, though; you can't blame it on the Mosaic Law. These aren't people acting in the name of God; this is essentially random, bloodthirsty mass insanity.

Why is it here in the Bible? The SAB labels this passage in various places as essentially violent, unjust, misogynistic, and displaying a warped sense of family values. I'd be curious as to whether there is anyone alive today who professes belief in the Bible who disagrees with such an assessment; I certainly don't disagree. On the one hand, the simple fact is that this is supposed to be history. If this event actually happened--and indeed, who would want to make up such an event and put it into their own country's history?--then I think it would be immoral to simply sweep the whole thing under the rug. In the same fashion, Christian believers in the Bible need to deal with this story, and not pretend it doesn't matter. It's from this very nation, this very group of barbaric, bloodthirsty warriors, that the people we consider heroes of the faith arise. King David, the prophet Daniel, John the Baptist, even Jesus himself comes from these people.

The thing to realize from this, and so many other stories in the Bible, is that the Jews are God's chosen people. Not the best people in the world, and despite what you might think from this story, not the worst people either, just the chosen people. As such, they are simply people. What does the Bible tell us about people? "[T]he imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth", God says in Genesis 8. "[T]he heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while they live", King Solomon observes in Ecclesiastes 9. Jesus himself tells us in Mark 7 that, "For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly." And yet, it was this very same Jesus who gave up his life for the salvation of all of mankind. Why did God choose the Jews? Deuteronomy 7:7-8 says, "The LORD did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But it was because the LORD loved you and kept the oath he swore to your forefathers that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt." Why did Jesus decide to die for sinful people? Romans 5:6-8 tells us, "You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." It's in the stories of the very worst that humanity has to offer that we see the depth of the love of God: that despite our best efforts to be as evil and reprobate as possible, God still insists on reaching out to us in love. This horrible chapter in Israel's history is not the final chapter; it's only the beginning.

Ye will take Benjamin away: all these things are against me (Judges 20)

Now, while I don't think that chapter 20 is quite as shocking in a simple sense (I mean after all, this isn't so personal; it's war, and this is just the way war is.) there is something more troubling about it from the point of view of an apologist: While God is completely absent from the previous chapter, it appears that the civil war that unfolds in response to the events of chapter 19 is undertaken with the express blessing of God. This is pretty much genocide we're about to see here, and what's more, genocide against the Israelites' own brothers.

I will, of course, offer a possible explanation of the apparent actions of God in this chapter, but I honestly have to admit that I'm grasping at straws here, and even my stretching of the interpretation of this chapter doesn't come across very pleasant at all. The easiest way out would be to say that when "the LORD said" in this chapter, it's not God, but the priests speaking falsely as though on behalf of God or some such thing. (Note that in verse 9, they say they "will go up by lot", raising the possibility that they essentially drew straws and considered the result to be the will of God.) Such an interpretation may create more problems than it solves for the apologist. I mention it only as a temptation, not as something I consider to be a reasonable response.

So here's the recap: Fighting men from all the tribes of Israel except for Benjamin (and probably Levi) gather together in Mizpeh to meet the Levite from chapter 19 and hear his story. Now the story he tells is technically true, but he leaves out the parts about his concubine being unfaithful to him and how he and his host actually gave the concubine to the crowd willingly. It's possible that the actual words of his story supply more detail than we read here, but it does sound like he's leaving out any details that paint him in bad light, which one would expect. The men of Israel vow that they will not return home until the rapists are brought to justice, and so they go to war.

The whole text of the battle that ensues is marked repeatedly by the SAB as absurd, violent and unjust. While I and any rational person would agree that this is a violent story, I don't see anything absurd about it, other than the fact that it's blown way out of proportion, which leads me to somewhat agree with the injustice label. I say "somewhat" because I suspect if this had not been an all-out war and only the men of Gibeah had been slaughtered, the label would still be there in the SAB, but I think I and many others would feel it was quite just. That being said, the fact that their fellow Benjamites are protecting them from justice may make them fair game, but that's more of a grey area in my mind.

The men of Benjamin fight exceptionally well, killing somewhere around 40,000 Israelites before finally losing. A note of accuracy that does little to soften the atrocity of the moment should be inserted here in response to the notes of the SAB. Verse 44 notes "Another 25,000 Benjamites are killed..." Actually, these are the same ones. If you read the story carefully, you'll note that the Benjamites started out with 26,000 soldiers (v. 15), so killing 50,000 of them would have to be an error. It isn't though; verse 35 is a summary of the battle while the following verses are a telling of the details of that battle, and a breakdown of how and where the Benjamites were defeated. In addition to the killing of soldiers, at the beginning of the final battle, they burn down the city of Gibeah, and after the battle, they pretty much just go nuts and destroy every city in the tribe of Benjamin.

Okay, so let me get down to it: this is horrible. It's a horrific, shameful moment in the history of Israel, and in addition to that, it appears that God is actually involved this time. What can you say? There are actually a few possibilities. One, which I've already hinted at, is that God approves. That is to say--and the distinction is important--that God approves of taking justice against Benjamin for allowing such an evil thing to happen in their midst. It does not necessarily mean that God approves of the all-out genocide and large-scale destruction that ensues after the battle. I can just barely believe of God that He might want not just the men of Gibeah destroyed, but the soldiers who fought to protect them. I don't believe that God intended the entire tribe to be decimated, no matter what, and I don't think the text supports that.

Another possibility that makes perhaps a bit more sense (although doesn't make things look much better) is that God led the men of Israel to do this thing as a form of punishment on them as well as on Benjamin. It hearkens back to Egypt and how once Pharaoh decided he would not let the Israelites go no matter what, God caused him to be hardened in his heart and stick to his guns even to the point of his own ruin. The men of Israel were so dead set on exacting revenge, and were so deeply steeped in sin themselves (if the rest of the book of Judges is any indication) that God said, "Sure! Go ahead and attack! Everyone is going to get exactly what they deserve..." Some people refuse to have faith in the God of the Bible because they pray, and do not get what they ask for, but Psalm 106:15 talks of what may be at times the worst curse that God can ever give someone: "He gave them their request".

Now will we deal worse with thee, than with them (Judges 19)

Okay, time to get back to it; I've got to finish this book. As some might know, I've been out of work for a while, and it's been hard to focus at times when I feel that every waking moment should be spent in job searching. As it happens, I've also been involved in a Bible study with my church that's been taking up a fair amount of my time, being a bit more involved than the usual sort. This week, the topic of study is "work", which I've volunteered to lead the group on, out of my own love of irony. Of course, as is so often the case, in attempting to be ironic, I've also given myself a wonderful chance to be inspired by the subject matter. Work, wages, and money are big topics in the Bible, but here in Judges 19, we see some far less inspiring subjects touched on.

Now, while the SAB is virtually forced by the horror of this story to finally come back to commenting on the book, I might generously guess here that the shocking events in the latter portion of this chapter distract from legitimate concerns in the early portion of this chapter, and that's why no comments are given until verse 22. In the very first verse, we're introduced to the central characters of this story, a Levite and his concubine. Whatever the technical definition of a "concubine" is--which might be a useful topic of discussion in itself--it's certainly not a wholesome relationship by our modern understanding of the nature of marriage and sexuality, and there seems to be little to support the morality of concubinage anywhere in the Bible either, other than the fact that it is mentioned, which I repeatedly stress is no indication of condoning. Actually, for this story, it is of paramount importance to note that fact; there's pretty much nothing good happening in this story whatsoever.

If there is any lingering suspicion that this might be a wholesome family tale, the very next verse hammers the last nail in that coffin, as we read that "his concubine played the whore against him". Both of these verses should be rightly marked with the topic of "sex", and the SAB, which in other places seems eager to jump on such things, might as well have marked the second with "language", as "played the whore" hardly sounds like Sunday school terminology. (Everyone remember the episode of the Simpsons in which Marge asks the kids what they learned about in Sunday school? Bart replies, "Hell!" Homer chastises Bart for using improper language, but is assured by Lisa that it truly was the subject of the morning. Bart says, "I sure as HELL can't tell you we learned about HELL unless I say HELL, can't I?" Okay, enough Simpsons; the name "Jebus" appears enough in this chapter for any Simpsons fan, anyway...)

So after the Levite goes to get the woman back, and his father in law (His what? The Levite is also referred to as her "husband". I guess there's no alternate terminology for this relationship.) tries to keep the guy from going for several days, but eventually, he sets off. It gets late, and they need to seek shelter for the night, but the Levite insists that seeking shelter in a non-Israelite city is unacceptable. Perhaps this could be tagged with intolerance; he doesn't give his reasons for wanting to avoid the Jebusites, but in the end it he may regret his choice. The Bible doesn't give us insight into the inner workings of this guy's mind at all.

Interestingly, the Bible points out that he enters the city and sits down in the street because nobody offers him hospitality. As I noted in the earlier story in Genesis that bears a great similarity to this chapter, in the Middle East, hospitality is taken very seriously. The fact that he couldn't find a place to stay almost right away is culturally significant. "An old man" coming back from work sees him in the street and asks him what's up, to which he replies (probably in false humility, but once again, I'm only guessing) that although nobody has offered him a place to stay, he has everything he needs, and he's fine with sleeping in the street. The old man insists that sleeping in the street is not a good idea, and urges them to come into his house.

Now the story gets really familiar. A group of local men come to the house and insist to be allowed access to the Levite, "that we may know him." This is pretty clearly understood to mean that they're looking to gang rape this man for whatever reason, and I won't go into the issues that have already been addressed in the similar Genesis story, other than to note that it may be odd that the SAB tags this passage with a lot of topics, but does not include "homosexuality" as in the Genesis passage; as I think I said in the first story, homosexuality in itself is not really the issue here, but this is one of many stories in the Bible that is commonly linked to justification for homophobia, and for that reason alone, it might be worth labeling accordingly. The differing nature of this story lies in various notable details. This guy only has one virgin daughter to offer, and he offers her along with the Levite's concubine! I'm not sure whether we're to take it that this guy is a lousy host, or that the sacred protection of hospitality does not extend to female guests, or that the Levite was fine with this offer. The last of these possibilities seems least likely in many ways, but I actually wouldn't rule out anything. Despite what the note in the SAB says seeming to simply recap the story, there are at least two assumptions in there that need commenting on. First of all, the story does not say that "The mob refuses the daughter, but accepts the concubine..." It actually says that they refuse to listen, so the concubine is brought out to them. I've always imagined that this was a bit of a desperation move on the part of the men in the house to save themselves, hoping that once they actually have one of the women, they'll change their mind. This seems to work, and they have their way with her until the sun comes up.

Now comes what, to some, is the more shocking part of the story (although not to all; I've heard many women say that they'd rather be murdered than gang-raped, and I think I feel the same way), the guy takes the woman back home, chops up her body into twelve pieces and somehow mails these body parts to all the tribes of Israel, apparently with an explanation of what a horrible thing had happened. And here's the second assumption that I have a shocking comment concerning: nowhere in the story does it say "she crawls back to the doorstep and dies." I think people reading this story assume that, in hopes of retaining what few scraps of decency they can from an intrinsically indecent story. Remember how above I said I wouldn't rule out anything? That includes the possibility that the Levite butchered his concubine while she was still alive.

Yes, in reality, I have to say that this story is very likely far more shocking and disgusting than the SAB gives it credit. It's my own personal assumption on this, but consider: why the heck does the first half of this story have such a long telling of the tale of the father in law who is so reluctant to let his daughter go? Why is he trying so hard to keep this guy entertained and in his house rather than allowing him to go home? So many times in the past, I have read this story and wondered, is it an act of great grace that this Levite would take back his concubine after she "played the whore against him"? Are we perhaps to question his morality in being willing to take back a woman who was unfaithful to him, which might not be acceptable in the Mosaic Law? (Sure, there are a lot of Laws being broken in this story, but selective use of the Mosaic Law is common throughout history, even to this day of course.) I'm starting to think that it's much more likely that the Levite went to get his concubine back because he intended to take her home and punish her severely. Note that in the morning he talks to her (indicating to me that she's probably not dead), but shows no sympathy whatsoever for her ordeal (indicating to me that he doesn't care about her well-being).

To quote the SAB:

The story, which must be one of the most disgusting stories ever told, ends with: "consider of it, take advice, and speak your mind."

The SAB feels that anyone reading the story "will immediately reject the idea that it was inspired by God." Well, surprise! I don't. This story, while in God's book, has nothing to do with God, and in many ways, that's the point. The author of Judges is once again trying to imply, whether one agrees or not, that this is exactly the sort of thing one should tend to expect if a nation is given completely over to its own arbitrary morality and turns its back on God. To show the goodness of God's way, the book of Judges gives us this story along with so many others to give us something to contrast with it. Whether you personally agree with this view and/or believe in the God of the Bible, I hope you will agree that this story does show something worthwhile: that morality is not just an arbitrary and relative thing, but a real concern that should grip society. I don't care whether you are a Jew or a Gentile, Christian or atheist, gay or straight, Bible-believer or skeptic; some things are just plain wrong.

Yet wherefore hast thou stolen my gods? (Judges 18)

"In those days there was no king in Israel." Ah, the oft-repeated phrase in the book of Judges, usually followed by "every man did that which was right in his own eyes." Cleary, the main lesson taught in the book of Judges is that of a need for (and unfortunate lack at the time) an authority figure to hold the people together. It's funny, but even though the Bible mandates a certain separation between church and state in the fact that the King is not to be a priest as well, there is definitely a sentiment that the king should be a moral example for the people, and should lead them in showing the way to be a good and moral person, and a follower of God. I think that's something we'd like to see in our own leaders here in 21st-century America, but rarely do.

(Of course, when you really think it through, there were very few kings during the time of the monarchy in Israel that were anything like exemplary moral figures. David's one of the better examples for us, and, well, you know. He's got his fair share of faults and then some. No doubt the writer(s) of the book of Judges are in part telling these stories as propaganda to suggest how great the monarchy is.) But to the story...

Here we take up right where we left off in two ways: this story meshes right in with the story of our idolater, Micah, and who do we introduce into the plot? Danites from Zorah and Eshtaol, some names that may be familiar. These are the fellow tribesmen of Samson, from the very same area that he lived in. Apparently, despite the fact that Samson had some good victories (or maybe because he hasn't yet at all; as I said, chronology is far from precise here) the Danites still can't live in peace within their inherited area of Canaan, since the Philistines are all over the place making trouble for them. So they go out looking for a good place that they can take over and kill the inhabitants of, of course.

On the way there (more or less), they come across Micah's house, where this Levite is working, (for more irony, note that the Levite tells them to "Go in peace") and they eventually decide to steal all of Micah's religious paraphernalia, along with his priest. Apparently, as I said before, the SAB seems to have no problem with either the idolatry or the thievery, leaving it without comment. Frankly, I myself am not sure what to think about it, as the whole thing to me is pretty ridiculous. "Ye have taken away my gods which I made!" Micah protests. This is wrong and ironic on so many levels that it's hard to deal with. I mean really, how helpful are those gods if they couldn't protect Micah from being robbed? The Danites come back with a sort of, "Are you sure you want to fight about this? Clearly we've got gods on our side here." Not really, but whatever; at the very least it's got to be absurd. Micah, you're outnumbered; go home and make yourself some new gods or something.

So the Danites go and destroy the city of Laish, killing everyone there. The SAB finally decides to chime in after two chapters of silence with a judgment of this being "violent" and "intolerant". Violent? I would agree, but once again wonder why the gouging out of Samson's eyes was not labeled as such (or "intolerant", which seems fairly reasonable). Something I don't understand at all is the "intolerance" label, however. I just don't see what definition of the word could possibly apply here. The Danites don't attack the people of Laish because they're non-Israelites. They certainly don't attack them because they're pagans. They attack them because they're greedy for land and the people of Laish appear to be an easy target; it's as simple as that. I guess we're to believe that the Danites are intolerant to people who tend to get killed by Danites? C'mon SAB, you're better than this...

In that day a man shall cast his idols of silver (Judges 17)

Seriously, SAB? No notes on Judges 17? Even if you're not a follower of the God of Israel, you've got to see how messed up this is. The fact that there were no notes on this chapter as well as no notes concerning the treatment received by Samson at the end of his life makes me wonder if the SAB is showing its prejudice in an odd manner, although I'm not sure what we're prejudiced against. Seriously, based on the pattern elsewhere, this text should be pointing out that clearly if this story is in the Bible, then the message is:

17:2 (Contradiction, Family Values) While the Bible says it's not okay to steal, apparently, if you steal from your own family, that's a good thing!

17:3, 12-13 (Contradiction) Micah's mother makes an idol, and Micah's cool with it, this mysterious Levite is cool with it, and apparently God is cool with it, because He doesn't kill them all then and there.

...and so forth. I mean really, there's primo material here! The SAB should be all over this. I'm sure we'll get back to it in a couple chapters (the next chapter is pretty devoid of commentary as well) but for now, I'm left on my own to comment.

The last few chapters of the book of Judges are really some of the nastiest in the Bible. While I think I did say Samson was bad, there are a number of other people who appear in the following chapters that, well, it's been suggested by many that they are so vile that there's a reason it's one of the longest stretches of the Old Testament without names being named. The thing that may not be realized by detractors is that in many ways this little episode with Micah and his idolatry is pretty nasty in its own way.

I feel like I've said it a million times, although it's probably only about four or five, but religious morality is ranked right up there with sexual morality in importance to God. It may even surpass the significance of violence. It's fitting both due to its importance in and of itself and in the fact that there is a presented idea behind most of the Bible that spiritual sin leads to more obvious worldly sin, that this story be the beginning of a set of stories that illustrate the depravity of the Israelites during this period. We even see that a Levite is brought into the mix, as apparently this idolater thinks having a Levite priest is going to validate his practice, an ironic and sad statement of the state of the culture and the ancient priesthood. Really, it's better to be an atheist than the follower of a false god, something that I think skeptics can agree with me concerning.

Don't get me wrong in what I am about to say; I am not one of those people who claims that atheists are incapable of being moral, in fact an atheist is at least far more likely to take personal responsibility for their morality, which is a good thing in its own way. What is a problem with the sort of idolatry we see here and throughout this age of Israel's history is that these people do largely take their moral cues from their religion, and if their religion is simply made up, then so is their morality. If your moral responsibility is to a lump of metal you keep in your living room, how much are you dedicated to honoring a "god" that can be picked up and carried away?

But then, that's the next chapter...

And great was the fall of it (Judges 16)

Ah Judges 16, and the story of Samson finally defeated. Here we see him fall to what must be his greatest weakness, his lust for women, and apparent unfailing trust of them despite all evidence against doing so. Yes, Samson goes to visit a prostitute in Gaza, but this is not his downfall yet, although one might wonder if the whole thing was a set-up for a trap. The Philistines fully expect to catch him in the morning and kill him, but in the middle of the night (I assume while the soldiers are asleep) he gets up and rips the city gate out of the wall and carries it to a nearby hill. There may have been an actual purpose to this act, such as the possibility that's easily suggested by the text that they were trying to trap him in the city by barring the city gate. The SAB marks the act as absurd, and asks, "Did God make him do it or was he just showing off?" I'd lean towards showing off, as practically, all he really needed to escape was to knock the door down. It's possible that the practical purpose was to leave the city unprotected, as fixing a city gate that is knocked over is easier than fixing one that's been carried off. All of the angry, showy things that Samson does in his life end up being to the general detriment to the Philistines in the end.

Into the story comes Delilah, a Philistine woman that Samson has a crush on. The Philistines continue their campaign to take advantage of Samson's weakness for women, and offer Delilah a reward if she can help them take Samson down. She proceeds to question Samson as to the source of his strength, to which Samson makes up several answers. Seriously, this has got to be the stupidest guy in the Bible; every time he tells her what can be done to defeat him, she proceeds to immediately do it. To tell this woman the true source of his power has got to be the biggest bonehead move ever. (Actually, for the first time I find myself wondering if, in fact, Samson didn't even mean it when he said his hair was the source of his power. In truth, the Bible never says it's the case that his hair is giving him power; I've always thought the possibility existed that this was all psychological on Samson's part.) Whatever Samson expected to happen, I truly marvel that he didn't know Delilah was out to get him. Despite what Hollywood has portrayed, there's also no evidence in the story here that Delilah was in it for anything but the money.

The SAB says of his hair being the source of his strength, "And I thought his strength was from God." Well, everything comes from God, particularly Samson's strength, which seems to be supernatural, but his hair seems to have been a part of it for whatever reason. The fact that his eyes were gouged out probably didn't help Samson much either (an act which the SAB does not mention as being cruel or violent, and I'm curious as to why).

Samson ends up killing more than 3,000 people (Wells, you may want to update your tally, as 3,000 is the number of people upstairs alone, while many others were downstairs, no doubt) in his death, taking down the building on top of them all. The SAB does not miss the chance to mark this as violent, cruel, unjust and intolerant, but I must question some of those. Sure, Samson was an awful guy, but does that make it alright to gouge his eyes out and bring him out to publicly humiliate him? Are the Philistines right in oppressing the Israelites? (Unlike many of the nations the Israelites had to contend with in Canaan, the Philistines were not locals, but invaders.) Violent? Yes, but as for the other things Samson is accused of here, this final thing is really the closest he comes to a noble act in his spotty life. This one time especially, the Philistines really have it coming.

So, what is the final lesson of the life of Samson? What is the answer to the question I put off answering a few chapters back? Why does God take one of the worst moral examples in the Bible and continue to give him power and blessing time after time? Actually, I already answered this question in the beginning of the book. The book of Judges and the life of Samson in particular should be an inspiration for anyone who is hoping to find favor with God. Why? Because if God wants to use your life to make a great thing happen, He's not going to allow your failings, even if they are catastrophic ones like Samson's, to stand in the way of that. No doubt God could have taken Samson, had he been an upright and moral man, and made him a brilliant military leader and inspiration to his people who would than have rallied around him like a king and rose up to drive out their oppressors. Instead, God used Samson's very weaknesses to maneuver him into a place where he would end up destroying the leadership of the Philistines in a surprise attack from within. Samson was chosen from before birth for this purpose and, despite his own free will subverting the best opportunity for resolving the conflict, the purpose of God was served. I'll say it again: the Bible is a book full of massively screwed-up people that God used to do great things despite themselves. It gives hope to billions around the world and throughout history. If I don't have the moral fiber to be a Daniel, maybe I have just enough faith in God that he'll make me a Samson? Something to think about, anyway.

They were burned with fire (Judges 15)

So with each new chapter in Samson's life, he looks worse and worse. Aside from Samson's one supposedly redeeming feature of hating the Philistines, we see what might be considered a redeeming feature by some, but in his case is perhaps a bit of foreshadowing to his downfall: Even after his wife has betrayed him, he forgives her and goes back to her (whether it be a sexual betrayal or not, the thing that we see about Samson here is that he can't seem to fathom the idea of a woman being bad or dangerous, which is a different sort of sexism than we usually see in the Bible, but sexism nonetheless). It turns out that Samson's father-in-law has assumed that Samson wanted a divorce, and married her off to someone else. The following offer of the younger sister is, I think, an act of self-preservation on the part of Samson's father-in-law, whatever else you might think of it. Samson is known for having a nasty, violent temper, and he's certainly not above killing.

Samson's response to this is that he's decided to get revenge on the Philistines as a whole for this grave injustice done against him. (I actually find myself wondering if he's really so angry, or if he's just looking for an excuse to commit violence against the Philistines. You can almost imagine a typical day for Samson: gets up...eats breakfast...toast doesn't have enough butter, so he bludgeons 20 Philistines to death with a stale loaf of bread...checks out the newspaper, etc.) He somehow catches 300 foxes for a Rube Goldberg-esque plan of revenge that destroys the Philistines' crops. (The SAB marks this passage with the Absurd icon, and I tend to agree, whether it be the strangeness of Samson's plan or the thought of a single man catching 300 foxes, this is pretty weird.) Destroying the crops leads to an escalation: The Philistines burn up Samson's wife and father-in-law, and Samson takes this as an excuse for more violence, and some unknown number of Philistines are killed.

The Philistines get smart, and realize that they have to deal with the root of their problem, and move in to capture Samson himself. The men of Judah are willing to give up Samson to save themselves, so they go to him and ask him to surrender. (You know, despite the fact that Samson is supposed to be some sort of leader in Israel, there's not much to suggest that even his own people liked him.) Samson agrees to go peacefully if his own countrymen promise not to harm him, and they agree. So Samson is handed over to the Philistines tied up with two ropes.

Of course, this is one of the more well-known parts of the story of Samson: it was all just a ruse. Samson knows that he's too strong to be bound by mere ropes, so once he's tied up and unarmed in the midst of his enemies and they think they have the upper hand, he breaks his ropes, picks up a donkey's jawbone (once again, a no-no for a Nazarite), and kills 1,000 men with it. (1,000 is such a round number that it may be an exaggeration, but surely, he killed several hundred.) Then he makes a pun about the whole thing, saying, "I made a chamorah (heap) of bodies with the jaw of a chamor (donkey)!" That's not just messed up morals, but a sick sense of humor.

Then, to end this little story, Samson whines to God that darnit, mass murder is thirsty work! So God gives him some water out of the hill where he found the bone (not out of the bone itself, despite the confusing language of the translation). He calls the place "Enhakkore", or "the spring of the one who calls". Why is God helping Samson? I hope as I finish his story, I can explain on some level, but it's not bound to be pretty.

It is not good to eat much honey: so for men to search their own glory is not glory. (Judges 14)

So with Judges 14, Samson's personal story begins. If Samson seems like an unlikely Biblical hero, that's because he is. He's a jerk, a drunk, a womanizer, and he's prone to fits of violent outburst that have a lot more to do with a sense that he's been personally wronged rather than a desire to see the will of God carried out, as with most of the other characters we've seen in this book. I'm not going to defend Samson much, as he's admittedly not a very nice person.

The story of Samson is an early example of what has been come to be called in our age the "anti-hero". The first time I'd heard the term used, I thought it was a modern concept, but I soon realized that history and literature is littered with such people. There is no doubt that Samson is the hero of the story that unfolds here and in the next few chapters, but unlike the sort of heroes we ideally expect from the Bible (squeaky clean paragons of virtue such as Joseph or Daniel) or even the sorts of heroes that we more realistically expect from the Bible (mostly good folks who have personal flaws, but a strong faith in God such as Noah and Jacob), this guy has pretty much no redeeming features other than the fact that he really hates the Philistines, who happen to be Israel's oppressors. Is that one thing enough to redeem him? In the end, it's really a matter of opinion.

Now despite the fact that Samson is so often portrayed as a strong, forceful man, you might note that when he gets the hots for a Philistine woman, instead of going after her himself, he whines to his parents about her. The violence, lust and drunkenness are obvious character flaws of Samson, but a more subtle one that we really see a lot of is that despite his strength, he's sort of an emotional wimp. He can't just go and talk to the woman himself? You get the impression (or at least I do) that while Samson's parents seemed like good folks at first, they don't seem to be very good parents; I think Samson is a spoiled brat, even as a grown man.

Samson is very strong, though, and in the middle of this story, he manages to kill a lion with his bare hands. At a later date, passing by the carcass of the lion, he finds that some bees have made a hive inside its dead body, and he eats some of the honey. Aside from being sort of gross, this is the first instance we see of Samson doing something expressly forbidden of a Nazarite: touching a dead animal. (The SAB marks the passage with the Science icon, although I'm not sure why. Maybe Wells knows something about bees that I don't.) Actually, eating something that had come from the body of a dead animal would be unkosher to anyone, and yet he feeds some of the honey to his parents, not telling them where he got it.

Later, at a feast, he takes the story and makes a riddle out of it. It seems to me that this riddle is akin to Bilbo Baggins' famous riddle, "What have I got in my pocket?" It was really not an acceptable riddle, it was essentially unsolvable, and in the end, the person challenged with the riddle solved it, but the poser of the riddle didn't abide by the rules of the original challenge. Really, would anyone have been able to solve this riddle without cheating? I don't know if the phrase "plowed with my heifer" really is meant to imply that Samson thought his wife was having sex with the men, but he certainly knows that she's the only one who knew the solution.

Samson, being a sore loser, goes off and kills thirty men and takes his payment off of them. The SAB is pretty much right here in that whenever "the Spirit of the LORD came upon him", he seems to do something nasty and violent. What's up with that? Honestly, I don't know.

There shall no razor come upon his head (Judges 13)

So, with Judges 13, we begin the wade into the deep end of the book of Judges. The story of Samson is an ugly one that takes up a very large portion of the book, and unfortunately, there's not much to commend in the stories afterwards.

Well, comparatively, this portion of the story, our introduction to Samson's parents, is pretty good. There's not much indication (yet) that there's anything really bad about these folks, other than the fact that they seem to be rather helpless and confused most of the time.

The story opens with yet another time of trouble for Israel, and this time, they're in the hands of the Philistines, who seem to be Israel's major enemies through all of this time on into the time of David. I don't think you can deny that whatever else is going on in the life of Samson, this story has a lot of political undertones that end up almost overshadowing the spiritual issues; of course, they're all intertwined.

In the midst of this difficult time, we are introduced to yet another couple with a barren wife. The SAB comments once again on the issue of barren women in the Bible, not so directly as before, but I'm assuming that's the point being made. Another thought I had as I was reading this chapter yesterday in addition to what I said about barrenness earlier is that in those ancient times, they knew a little bit about how babies were made, and it might be fair to assume, with the limited knowledge they had, that so long as a man appeared to have "seed", lack of children must be a problem with the woman. Scientifically questionable by modern standards, yes, but the ancients didn't have microscopes. Actually, it might additionally be said that the term "barren" may simply mean that a married woman had not yet borne any children; that's a speculation just now off the top of my head, someone who knew Hebrew far better than I might know if there's any truth to that. (I note that in looking up the Hebrew, that the word for "barren" does not appear in 1Sam. 1, although clearly that's what's being talked about there.)

Anyway, an angel appears to this woman and tells her she is going to have a son. (Despite the innuendo on the part of the SAB that there was something of a sexual relationship that happened between the "angel" and the woman, the language doesn't really suggest that at all.) Some interesting commands are given to her concerning her pregnancy and raising of the child. There are to interesting points about this, one of which is that the commands the angel gives her for her pregnancy are actually good advice for any pregnant woman. Don't drink wine or eat "unclean" food during your pregnancy? Hey, that's just sound prenatal care!

The other point is one that I touched on briefly in talking about John the Baptist. Although I skipped ahead from the middle of Genesis and therefore never hit Numbers 6, this would probably be a very good place to delve into the issues of that chapter. As the angel says, Samson is supposed to be a "Nazarite...from the womb" (as is suggested, but not expressly stated in the cases of John the Baptist and the prophet Samuel). Two questions come up in the Numbers 6 and here as well that are worth exploring. Is it okay to drink? Generally, the Bible does not seem to be against it, in moderation. Wine is an important part of many Jewish and Christian ceremonies. Is it okay for men to have long hair? Clearly Paul did not think highly of it, and it was not the cultural norm of the times. (I myself, up until about half a year ago had a nice long ponytail I'd been letting grow for about 15 years. I cut it off because my wife wanted my hair short, not because of a moral or social issue.) So why are these demands made of Nazarites? Well, the Nazarite was setting himself apart from society to be dedicated to the Lord. (Nazarite literally means "separated", and when context calls for it, it's translated that way.) When everyone else had a party and sat down to drink, he would stay sober. When all other men were walking around looking neat and clean-cut, he would look like a hippie, with a shaggy long head of hair and beard. A Nazarite was supposed to look and act in a way that was acceptable to God, but generally socially unacceptable, so that people would notice him standing out. If you know the story of Samson, you have to realize that Samson was actually a pretty bad Nazarite, since long hair was the only requirement he kept, and even that ends up being a problem in the end.

So Samson's parents end up having a bit of drama with this angel, and yeah, a lot of it is rather strange, although the part about the angel ascending to heaven in the fire of the altar is something serves to clarify the supernatural aspect of the event. In fact, it seems that Samson's father wasn't quite 100% convinced until this happened, at which point he says that they "have seen God." While the question of whether not God can be seen is a tricky question that I have examined elsewhere, I don't think it's an issue here, as I think he's just being dramatic. It wasn't God, it was just a heavenly messenger, and his wife essentially says, "Get over yourself; if we were going to die, we'd already be dead instead of standing here by this altar."

The final note of this chapter is really the big question of this whole story. I'm tempted to say that verse 24 is really talking about how Samson was blessed by God as a child, and later he turned bad; indeed, it might be the case. On the other hand, there seems to be little room for denial that Samson led a charmed life up until the very end; why is God blessing a guy who seems to hold none of the moral values that the Bible stands for? It's a very good question, but I intend to answer it at the end of the story rather than here.

Jephthah gathered together all the men of Gilead (Judges 11)

Judges 11 gives us the very odd tale of Jephthah the Gileadite, a man whose life carries a few oddities that those like the SAB who like to find problems with the Bible are hardly going to overlook. Perhaps oddly, the SAB does not draw attention to the very first item of interest about Jephthah, the fact that apparently, he's a bastard. The fact that he is mentioned first and the following fact that apparently his half-brothers are afraid he will inherit from Gilead suggests that Jephthah is the eldest son, and may have some claim in being the rightful heir of Gilead. However, there is certainly a history (especially among the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) of firstborns not inheriting. Anyway, his family gets into some hot water with the Ammonites, and they come to him for help for some reason. He agrees to help in return for being made their leader.

The first thing he does as leader is send a message to the Ammonites looking for peace. I'm always looking for a hopeful suggestion where I can find it of a place where the SAB might add a "Good Stuff" icon; might there be one here? Certainly this is a much nicer approach than most guys in this book take. They argue back and forth a bit about whose land it is. Apparently, according to Jephthah, the land was won in battle from the Amorites (the SAB marks this fact as being bad for various reasons, but really, this is old news from back in Numbers 21, where Moses also tried to settle things peaceably, asking permission to pass through, and getting attacked in return, as we see briefly reviewed here in Judges. Sure, it's not all that nice that Sihon was destroyed by the Israelites, but this is largely a clear case of destroying a city in self-defense, oddly enough. Later in Jephthah's remarks, he points out that if indeed they think this particular part of the land belonged to them, it's odd they let the Israelites live there for 300 years without ever rectifying the situation. The SAB itself points out (although it calls it a contradiction) that the Israelites were ordered by God not to attack the Ammonites. Actually, they were ordered not to attack the land of the Ammonites, but this is the Ammonites attacking them.

Jephthah makes a remark that is much more thought-provoking to the SAB than it is to me, giving an apprent nod to the Ammonite god Chemosh. Does this statement imply that Chemosh exists, or that at least Jephthah thinks he does? I don't think so. I think this is an ironic statement on the part of Jephthah, although it certainly may have been stated in a manner that was meant to sound more polite, as in you serve your god in your land, we'll serve our god in ours, okay? As for the issue of the Bible containing statements that other gods might exist, I have formerly addressed that here. (Steve, if you don't mind, can you add a link on that page? I keep meaning to help you clean up the links between us, but I'm a terrible procrastinator.)

And now with all the pleasantries finished up, the battle begins, and the big issue of this story comes up. The "spirit of the Lord" comes upon Jephthah, (I was reading recently that this expression is often used in contexts such as this meaning not that the person becomes closer to God or anything like that, but that God gives them the power and wisdom to be a great military leader) and he goes to war. Early into the battle, he makes a rash and foolish gesture: he vows to kill the first thing that comes out his front door as a sacrifice to God when he returns victorious. When he wins, and he does return, the first thing out the door is his young daughter. Ouch.

The first thing to note is that nowhere does it say that God asked for this, so it is not proper to say that God approves. This was stupidity on the part of Jephthah to make the vow, and also to carry it out. There is more to say, though, in an odd musing that I myself have had with this passage. What was Jephthah really expecting? Does he often come home from work and find himself greeted at the door by...I don't know...a pair of turtledoves? What kind of stupid vow was that? I find myself wondering if he was expecting not so much a more proper sacrifice, but if he expected someone else to be at the door. I've never heard anyone else suggest this as a possibility, but the implications seem pretty staggering. Perhaps Jephthah was having domestic problems and hoped for an easy divorce?

Anyway, he comes home, and out comes his daughter, dancing with joy. He's not happy, of course, but feels he has to keep his vow. He gives her time to mourn her situation, and then sacrifices her. (Some have suggested that verse 39 is implying that rather than dying, she remained a virgin all of her life. This is definitely a possibility, but the verse is far from clear on the matter.)

Who is the LORD, that I should obey his voice? (Judges 10)

Judges 10 is a short chapter, and one that has few notes. Actually, the two notes given are in the category of Absurdity, and like so many in that category, little explanation is given and I am left wondering what the deal is.

Like a number of the Judges in the book, Tola is one that you might blink and miss. Oops, his story finished while I was writing that last sentence.

Now the judge Jair is someone that the Bible has a little bit more to say about, and so does the SAB. Apparently it's absurd that Jair has 30 sons who ride on donkeys. I'm not sure whether it supposed to be absurd that there are 30 of them (Jair probably was a polygamist like Gideon, although we are not told so) or that they ride on donkeys (a perfectly acceptable form of transportation; even Jesus used it!) I'm left to speculate and frankly have no idea what's odd about the statement. And then Jair's portion of the story is over, and it probably took me more words to describe it than it took to tell it in the first place.

Then, of course, we see a repetition of the same pattern we've seen over and over here. The Israelites turn their back on God, and so God turns His back on them. This time, however, when they get in trouble and call to Him, He refuses to help. Really, it's probably more surprising that this hadn't happened previously. The Israelites' despair will make them turn to another leader who turns out to be a great military commander, but a lousy family man. But that's a story for another day.

Draw thy sword, and thrust me through therewith (Judges 9)

Yikes! If you think politics are ugly today, you obviously have no idea what it was like in previous centuries. Here in Judges 9, we get a taste of dirty politics from a few millennia ago. (Once again, let me lead off with the caveat that we can't assume that God approves of any of this, with one exception that must be addressed. We'll get there.)

Having made a number of very bad decisions in his personal life, Gideon, who already had numerous wives, also gets a concubine in the city of Shechem. This woman bears him a son, which Gideon names "Abimelech", a name which means "my father is the king". This is an odd choice of names for a man who claimed that he didn't want to be king, and also for a man who was famous for fighting off pagans, when "Abimelech" is apparently a common name for local pagan kings.

So after Gideon passes on, Abimelech decides to make his move. He goes to the men of his own city and suggests that they should back him as the next leader of Israel, since he's a local boy. They agree, and he goes off to kill his 70 half-brothers, only one of which escapes. The men of Shechem crown him king. (Here's a fun bit of Bible trivia to throw at your favorite Bible-believer: ask them who the first King of Israel was. A lot of people will say, "David." Then you say, "Nope, guess again!" They think for a moment, then say, "Oh, yeah! It was Saul, right?" Then you can smugly say, "Nope, it was Abimelech, Judges chapter 9." Of course, then they might argue how technically Abimelech doesn't count, and they might be right, but you've had your fun.)

Now, the SAB laughs at the idea of talking trees, and while yes, it's absurd, it's pretty clear from the context that Jotham's story about the king of the trees is a parable; a fable-like story with a moral point. The point of the story is one that we can take to heart today, even: most people want a strong leader over their country, but the fact is that often the set of people who would make good leaders and the set of people who actually want to be leaders don't have members in common. (The side-note about alcohol is addressed here, basically that alcohol is good in moderation.)

After Jotham's speech, we come to the place where we are told God directly intervenes, and therefore must address it. God sends "an evil spirit" to deal with Shechem, and causes a lot of trouble for them, and for Abimelech in particular. This is an odd moment, no doubt, and actually one among many in which it seems very clear that God is doing something evil, which should be against God's character, right? It's my understanding that many Jews have a belief which is shocking to Christians, but I think holds some possible merit: that Satan and other "evil" beings are actually servants of God in a strange fashion. God Himself, due to His own holiness, simply can't do certain things Himself. Thus, He has servants such as Satan to carry out certain tasks, such as tempting evil men to their own destruction, as we see here. This explanation of course would seem distasteful to most Christians, and I expect the Christian point of view would be that this is more of a passive activity on God's part; not so much that He actively sent this spirit upon them, but that He simply allowed it in response to their sin. Either way, the message is clear: Abimelech and the men of Shechem have done evil, and they are going to reap a penalty for it.

The SAB has on odd note about "the men of the tower of Shechem", claiming apparently that 1,000 people are way too many to house in a tower. Well, I have two thoughts about that. One, as the SAB suggests jokingly, I suggest in seriousness that this may have been a really big tower, the text gives no size. (Also, names may be deceptive, as the "Tower of London" is not a single tower, but a palace/fortress comprised of a walled area with about 20 literal towers.) Two, the text mentions "the men of the tower of Shechem", not "the men who lived in the tower of Shechem". There probably was some sort of fortress where these 1,000 people lived that was famous for having a tower, not being a tower. I could be wrong because once again, history is not my best subject, but I believe a tower in those days was not just a defense for itself, but for any walled area nearby, and these people may have simply lived in a walled area adjoining the tower.

Abimelech dies in an odd way. A woman tosses a rock on top of him, and knowing he is about to die, he calls out to his armor-bearer to kill him so that people can't say that he was killed by a woman. Yeah, it's sexist and sort of weird, what can you say? Well, other than the fact that this strange dying wish was apparently a failure. (This bears some similarities to the death of Saul.)

The last note here is on the comment that killing his 70 brothers was less of a crime against them than it was a crime against their father. There are numerous cultural reasons for this sort of statement as I understand it. First of all, it's common in the Bible and in that culture to consider a family to be a collective entity representing the father. Second, and closely related to that, it's considered a very good thing to have many children, and now, Gideon's heritage is essentially gone. Thirdly, even with all the bad stuff that Gideon did in his life, if his story had just ended with chapter 8, his would have been one of the best, at least in this book. Now, it's pretty much especially shameful with this bloody footnote. Murder is an odd thing, I've always said, since the "victim" does not suffer once the act is complete. Those who suffer are the friends and family. Now that everyone in this story is dead and buried, Gideon's children are simply forgotten, but Gideon's heritage is a serious blemish on the face of Israel's history.

The sons of Jerubbaal, which are threescore and ten (Judges 8)

I guess it's fair to say that in Judges 8, we see a fair bit of Gideon's bad side. Clearly the man is a good military leader, but not a real "people person". Well, in general; he does manage to flatter some of the men of Ephraim enough to get them to lay off criticizing him.

Other than that, though, we're not really seeing the best of Gideon as he threatens to beat up the men of Succoth and tear down the tower of Penuel. After he finishes his military campaign, he does that and more. This is an unfortunate tendency particularly among Middle Eastern peoples, and really mankind in general: the tendency to view things in stark black and white, and declare that anyone who does not ally with you must therefore be your mortal enemy. This is an attitude not endorsed by the Bible, but often observed by it.

There's also a little vignette in which Gideon tries to get his son to do some killings, but his son isn't willing to do it. Honestly, I'm not sure what to think of this. On one hand, once again this is wartime, and the context shows that the men were killers themselves, and therefore may have fully deserved the death penalty. On the other hand, I do wonder how old this son was, as the Bible never says specifically, and what exactly was going through his and Gideon's mind. What sort of a man is Gideon, that he wants his sons to do his killing for him? Why does he have 70 sons, for crying out loud? Actually, the thing about 70 sons from "many wives" is that the time frame is not stated, but you might wonder if most of these wives and children came after the military conquest. Is Gideon taking advantage of his status as a celebrity? (My comments on polygamy here.)

Actually, there is an offer made to Gideon to become king of Israel, but he turns it down. Instead, he asks for a share of the plunder from the battle, and uses it to make a fancy shirt. This turns out to be a bad thing, because for some reason, people seem to start to worship the shirt like an idol. The one really good thing Gideon does is try to turn people back to God, but he somehow ends up doing the opposite in the end for many people.

I break this people...as one breaketh a potter's vessel (Judges 7)

I was thinking that today was not the day to tackle Judges 7, since I was pretty tired and didn't have much time, but I see this chapter has mostly charges of absurdity against it in the SAB, which are usually not so difficult to deal with, I think.

So what is absurd here? First, there's this odd selection of Gideon's army by the manner in which people drink water. I've heard it suggested that there may be some significance to the way in which one would hold a sword while drinking from a stream, and that those who drink "with his tongue, as a dog lappeth" are showing greater alertness for a possible approaching enemy. I could see the value of that, although I have also heard some debates about whether this really makes any sense. My own take on it is from the context of the verses before: God wants Gideon to have a small army, so that He will get the credit. Remember, in the grand scale of things, the purpose of this battle is not just to free the Israelites from the oppression of the Midianites, but to turn them back to faith in God. There were 10,000 men when they went to have a drink, and God chose 300 to stay; that means 9,700 were turned away! I think this was just an arbitrary selection to get the smaller group, which turned out to be considerably smaller.

Verse 12 is also tagged for absurdity, though I think we're talking about hyperbole here, and what we're saying is that there are too many camels to count. There's something else noteworthy about this verse in respects to the issue of the number of Midianites. In this verse, it says "Midianites and Amalekites". It is quite possible that this is actually a coalition of several nations that happens to be led by the Midianites, which would explain the number of them a bit better.

The next few verses, despite being marked as absurd, are really quite clear and straightforward to me. It's made clear that the Midianites have been supernaturally caused to be very afraid of the idea that they are about to be attacked by a massive army. That night, the men arrive with trumpets, pitchers and lamps. Here's how it works: the lamps are inside pitchers so that they won't be spotted coming, and so that once the time comes to reveal themselves, they can whip out their lamps and smash the pitchers, making a sudden blaze of light accompanied by a crashing noise and the sound of 300 trumpets. Normally, an army would not have every man carry a torch or a trumpet, so the Midianites are to be confused by the illusory sights and sounds of a huge army created by just a relatively small group of men. In the resulting confusion and panic, members of the Midianite army either run away or mistakenly fight each other. Gideon's army of 300 hardly have to draw their swords to attain victory! Violent? Yes, but it's war, and these men are an occupying force.

The chapter ends with the capture and killing of two "princes" of Midian; it's a nasty business, yes, but my caveat here is that once again, it's war, and there's also no particular indication that the Bible condones the manner in which they were killed.

And the sun stood still (Judges 5)

Judges 5 is a familiar scene that we've seen before in the Bible, and we'll see again: Battle's over, and having won, the Israelites sing a victory song. Typical of this sort of thing, there's a lot of poetic language, some of which (such as fighting "stars") the SAB picks up on and criticizes, and some of which (such as God himself marching into battle) it does not. Anyway, my blanket response to most issues here is that this, being a piece of poetry, is not expected to be realistic nor completely accurate. Not that there is nothing that can be said beyond that.

So when God's marching into battle and mountains are melting, you might suspect that we're being figurative, but many of these figures of speech have some meaning behind them. Basically, most of what is going on here is a description of the idea that God was on the side of the Israelites, and therefore nothing could stand against them. This imagery could be the meaning of the claim that the stars fought against their enemies: the idea that when God is on your side, essentially all of nature is fighting for you. There may be another sense in which this is more literally true, however. It is common in the Bible for "stars" to be a metaphor for "angels", which answers a lot of questions. It may be in this case that they are claiming the battle was won with the help of angelic beings, which I know to some isn't much of an improvement, but it makes more sense than the idea of the battle being fought by flaming balls of nuclear plasma in space.

The song talks about Jael, and brings up the real issues that I addressed briefly in my last post. Jael is praised for murder here, and it seems odd, yet this was in the middle of a war. If Osama bin Laden were on the run from the marines and asked you to hide him, don't you think you'd at least consider killing him? Dying instantly in his sleep might be considered a mercy, as based on other cases where enemies were captured alive, you'd think much worse could have been in store for him.

Verse 30 may be a misreading on the SAB's part, but as in a few other places, it's hard to tell, as there is no commentary. The verse talks about dividing the spoils of war, including the conquered women. If you read it carefully in context, you realize that it is not a description of something that has happened, but a description of what the Canaanites imagine would happen if Sisera won.

The last verse presents two issues of a very different nature. First, the Israelites declare that they wish all the enemies of God would die. This does seem rather mean and intolerant, yes, but on top of other things I've said in the past about such topics, note that God Himself does not say that He wishes this, it's the Israelites saying these words, and for the umpteenth time, they're not exactly the apex of virtue.

Lastly, there is some poetic prose talking about "the sun...goeth forth in his might." Aside from being obviously (to me, anyway) more metaphorical, poetic speech, I think the SAB note is reading in something that is not there. The SAB says, "The sun, according to the bible, goes around the earth." This may be so, I have little doubt, but it does not say so here. There is nothing about where or how the sun "goeth forth", only an observation that it does so. And while I think it is not an issue here, it's as good a place as any to reiterate that even in today's culture, in which we know that the earth orbits the sun (which technically it doesn't) it's perfectly acceptable to say that "the sun rises in the east and sets in the west" even though, in fact, it is not the sun rising and setting, but the earth's horizon.

The holy women also, who trusted in God (Judges 4)

Chapter 4 presents us with a fair amount of repetition of issues I've already addressed. As I already said (and I guess I'll keep saying "I already said"), the book of Judges largely follows a repetitive pattern, perhaps illustrating humankind's tendency to fail to learn from history. Their previous leader dies, they turn back to sin, they reap the results and end up at the mercy of a foreign--well, non-Israelite--power.

The issue of iron chariots comes up again, and here it's labeled as an absurdity, but labeling it as such highlights something about this issue as a supposed contradiction in itself. Even supposing that it is true that God cannot handle it sometimes when iron chariots are involved, it's not really a contradiction. We're talking about warfare and attitudes towards what are state-of-the-art armaments of the day. Note that historically, hostilities between Japan and the USA ended quickly because the USA had nuclear weapons, but hostilities between the USA and the USSR stretched out for decades due to the same reason. Of course the difference was the fact that in the former case, they were actually deployed, and in the latter case, the power balance was much closer, but the point is that having powerful armaments has a great deal of effect on how a war plays out, but by no means determines the outcome. Here, I think we see a generation of people who, although they had turned away from God, turned back to Him with faith that even iron chariots could not stand up to them, if only God was on their side.

You know, a long time ago, I commented on the fact that the SAB's icons were (with the exception of "Good Stuff") always intended to make negative statements about the issues they were aimed at. If this is not true, then I wonder why verse 4 does not have the "Women" icon attached. Here in the book of Judges, we see for the first time in the Bible an instance of a woman holding a true position of power in Jewish society. Deborah is like Israel's Joan of Arc, but without the burning at the stake thing.

The SAB notes briefly that there seems to be a misnaming of Moses' father-in-law. As I said back the first time I came across this, despite the many examples of this given by the SAB, this particular verse is the only one I'll concede to be in error, apparently a typo of some sort, as Hobab was Moses' brother-in-law. (Actually, it may be a translation error, as the Hebrew word here is also elsewhere translated as "marriages"; perhaps it's an all-purpose term for relative by marriage?)

Anyway, war ensues, violence happens, it's pretty nasty, but such is war. What is rather odd, and clearly the author himself finds it noteworthy, is the fate of the Canaanite general Sisera. Fleeing from the battle, he asks for shelter from a woman named Jael. She lets him in, gives him a drink, put him in bed, and then puts a tent spike through his head. I'm not sure what to make of such an action. Sure, it was wartime, but at the same time, it has been noted by many, including myself, that hospitality to guests in the Middle East is taken pretty seriously; it's often used as part of an explanation of why Lot would offer up his daughters to an angry mob rather than give up his house guests. All's fair in love and war, I suppose.

The SAB asks whether Sisera was awake or asleep when he died. I think it's a pretty minor point to argue, but if it must be addressed, I have two thoughts. First of all, the verse from chapter 5 is part of a song, and it tends to be the case in songs like this for details to be embellished. It seems that often, when Israelites pause to sing a song after securing a military victory, they'll say whatever they feel like saying. Secondly, note that the verse in chapter 5 doesn't say Sisera was awake when he died, only that he bowed to Jael before he died, and the spot where he had bowed was the place he eventually died. I guess this is supposed to be ironic.

I came not to send peace, but a sword (Judges 3)

Judges 3 starts with what seems like a lot of repetition, but there's a bit more to it than that. The SAB says of verse 8 that God sold the Israelites into slavery "again". Actually, while this was mentioned in the previous chapter, this is the first time (unless you might want to count their time in Egypt, which isn't quite the same). As I said in my last post, the second chapter is more like a summary, so while it talks about some things that we see here, it's not talking about specific events, but rather the events of the book as a collective entity, which really start here.

And really, it's an odd turn of phrase that I don't quite parse. God certainly doesn't literally sell them into slavery, but the metaphor is surely implying something along those lines. God has nothing to gain by letting them go into slavery, but they've got a lot to lose, and it's largely their own choice for their disobedience.

So now the story returns to Othniel, Caleb's nephew. Apparently the story earlier about his unusual marriage was probably a setup for this later story, and the reason it was retold in Judges. Most of us have a modern perception of what a "judge" is, but in the context of this book, most of the judges of Israel were something akin to warrior-kings. They're people who have a certain degree of authority in their time, usually because of their ability to fight and protect their own people from enemies.

The deeper meaning of this is all a matter of perspective. The SAB calls the fact that God made Othniel into a great warrior unjust, violent and contradictory to the supposed nature of a God of peace. Well, I won't argue that war is not violent; it is by nature. But consider that the SAB says it's unjust to send the Israelites into slavery, and then immediately claims it to be unjust to redeem them. It seems like there ought to be only one claim of injustice here at most, take your pick. The problem is, when it comes to war, it seems unlikely that God is going to be on both sides at the same time. (I think it's likely in many cases that God is on neither side; I suspect that to be the case in our current war with Iraq, which happens to be in Mesopotamia.) Does a God of love go to war? I think He does if there is a loving reason to. Few people would argue that it was a bad thing to go to war to stop the Holocaust. When a situation deteriorates far enough, I think sometimes war is necessary to achieve peace. (Once again, I think there were good and noble reasons to institute a regime change in Iraq; I just didn't see the administration promoting any of those reasons. Justifying the war with false claims of WMDs is hardly noble. But enough editorializing, I've got to get back to that 3,000 year old Iraq War.) Indeed, the upshot of that war was 40 years of peace.

After that peace, there comes a time when they turn from God and the king of Moab takes them over. Eventually, God sends Ehud, who has a rather nasty scene of stabbing the king. The SAB labels it violent (again, I agree) and "language", which is less clear. The thing is, if you didn't already guess it, the phrase "the dirt came out" is the translators cleaning up a phrase that is unclear in meaning, but probably is referring to feces. Apparently, the king crapped his pants when he was stabbed, although a few other possible translations are out there.

Later, they end up killing 10,000 Moabites. This may seem violent and unjust, but once again, if you read it clearly, this is a squelching of a military invasion. Sure, there are a few times in this book when it seems that the killing is pretty arbitrary, but I don't think this is one of those times. This is a major battle that led to the ending of a war and a foreign occupation of the land of Israel. The SAB's page on Moab here has a couple errors, then, one of which unequivocally should be fixed (and now has been). So long as I'm there, I also think that the verse in Jeremiah is being understood wrongly as well. It's not a command, but an observation that Moab is about to be destroyed.

The chapter ends with a brief note about Shamgar, the third judge. All we know about this guy is that he killed a lot of Philistines, AND that he "delivered Israel". This may have also been an act of war in defense of his homeland, in which case I would not fault him personally. This is the first of several judges that are presented to us with minimal information, so one can only speculate.

Thou shalt drive out the Canaanites, though they have iron chariots (Judges 1)

It was the sort of thing that I would have saved for my other blog, but really I don't have so much to say about it. Apparently, the Dalai Lama has threatened to resign in the face of violence being committed by his followers in his homeland of Tibet. The Dalai Lama is just one of these guys you have a hard time not admiring even though his religious views are so disparate from your own. Certainly violence on the part of Buddhists seems ludicrous to me, and while I am personally against violence and a Christian, I recognize that even Christianity at its best ideals can't live up to Buddhism at its best ideals when it comes to peaceful living. And Judaism? The book of Joshua should dispel any idea that that religion is fundamentally non-violent, and here in Judges' beginning, we start with a fight that picks right up where Joshua left off.

The thing about the violence in this era of Israel's history is that, as I think I implied strongly in Joshua, it's mandated by God. There's a sense of higher purpose to it, and a sense of justice on a level that's not always obvious. The shame is (and it's reiterated in this and the following chapters) that the violence in Joshua's time was supposed to serve a purpose that had an end result of the ceasing of violence. All the immoral pagan peoples living in Canaan were to be driven out or destroyed, and once the job was done, the Israelites could live in peace. In their failure, they end up living in war against not only the pagan influences within their borders, but against each other at times.

The first accusation aimed at the book of Judges by the SAB is one of violence and injustice. Let me say here once again that yes, this is a violent book. Let me say for the first time (although I've said similar things elsewhere) that I'm not going to spend much time defending the violence and cruelty of this book, as I'll be largely in agreement with the SAB on such matters.

As for injustice, however, note that at least here, the text explains itself. King Adonibezek gets his thumbs and big toes cut off, an act that leaves a person alive, but greatly hinders the utility of their hands and feet, reducing them to an animal-like existence being not easily able to handle objects or walk anymore. Is it unjust? Adonibezek himself says, "...as I have done, so God hath requited me." After having extracted such a punishment on 70 other kings in the past, even Adonibezek seems to agree that this is just what he had coming to him. It's hard to argue against that, although I don't blame anyone for trying.

The next thing mentioned (which sounds from the wording as though it may have come before chronologically) is the sacking of Jerusalem. There are a couple things to note there. While the SAB calls this act violent and unjust, my response is the same as it has been throughout Joshua: God told them to do it, and the people of that city had warning that the Israelites were coming; in their case, forty years' more advance warning than the city of Jericho. Also, and fairly important, while the SAB says, "The Israelites killed everyone in Jerusalem..." there is no mention of that in the text. In fact, down in verse 21, we're told that the Israelites were unsuccessful in clearing out the inhabitants of Jerusalem. (More on that verse momentarily, which will give food for thought for the skeptics.)

Following this, we have an odd story that culminates in Caleb giving away his daughter to his nephew as a prize for destroying a city. This story may seem familiar to those who have already read Joshua, as this story is essentially a reprint of the same story in Joshua 15. Actually, a fair portion of the text of Judges 1 is copied from Joshua 15-17 for some reason, with this story being the biggest chunk. While I have commented on this story already, in looking at it during the past week or so, I have found some interesting things in the comparison with this version. The story doesn't change in essential details, but putting them side by side, even in the Hebrew, there are minor differences, such as the specification here that Kenaz was Caleb's younger brother. This might be of interest to those interested in the concept of accuracy of textual copying and/or transcription of oral histories. While as I said, there are no major differences between the stories, a notable difference surfaces in the aforementioned verse 21, which has its parallel in Joshua 15:63, where the SAB gives a very similar note. What is not noted, but I found quite fascinating, is that in Joshua, it's the Judahites who are charged with the responsibility of not driving the Jebusites out of Jerusalem. While Jerusalem lies on the border of Judah and Benjamin, it makes sense that the responsibility might be shared, but I'll admit that this fractured parallelism is odd. Anyway, I'm sure there's a lot of room for skeptics to speculate on the significance of these parallel verses.

In verse 19, we get a case of people failing a battle due to the presence of iron chariots. It's sort of neat to me that the SAB has added an iron chariots page, which I'm pretty sure is new, although I've been wrong more than once before. I like it because this is a favorite argument of Bible skeptics, and in this one case, it's one that they seem to like precisely because of how silly it sounds, or at least that's the impression I get. It seems to some that God is essentially powerless in any situation where iron chariots are involved. The answer to both questions posed there is essentially the same, and was answered way back by me, although I will reiterate here. God has the will and the ability to make the Israelites victorious no matter what the situation, but iron chariots, being the pinnacle of modern warfare technology in the time of this writing, were frightening the Israelites out of even trying to go to war against certain enemies. God can prevail against even iron chariots, as will be seen a few chapters after this, but His people need to trust Him in order do it. The "he" in Judges 1:19 refers not to God, but to Judah.

As for the remaining issues in this chapter, I rest on the explanations I gave in Joshua. Why did the conquest of Canaan fail? See this post. Why does the tribe of Joseph destroy Bethel excepting one family? It's probably a lot like the story of Rahab, discussed here.

Who made thee a ruler and a judge over us? (Judges, introduction)

I've been hesitating to start up the book of Judges for a number of reasons, one of which has not been that I was unaware of what an ugly book it is. I've known that from the first time I read it; you can't miss it. One thing that was lacking in me was a good idea of the proper way to say the things that needed to be said about it. Somehow, "This book is nasty. Let's go!" seemed a bit lacking.

The nastiness that is Judges needs to be addressed, and more than just admitted, it needs to be explained. Steve Wells points out that the book starts with a story involving the sending of body parts through the mail. The irony he forgets to mention is that, like a set of grisly bookends, the book's final story also involves body parts being sent through the mail. (EDIT: Oh, no, he does mention it. Did he add it, or did I somehow miss it on first read?) I remember the first time I read that particular story I thought, Sheesh, Stephen King's got nothing on the author of Judges! Horrifyingly, these stories are actually true.

Oddly enough, although I've been re-reading the book of Judges again lately to get back into it and get the right feel for it, it's the reading of a couple of other books, one by a more liberal theologian and the other by a more conservative one that have given me direction in this, although neither one mentions this particular book in their writings. Both of them point out the same thing about the Bible, a thing that I realized as a child reading the Bible for myself for the first time. I wasn't even in this book when it dawned on me (I was back in Genesis, probably reading about something like the story of Judah and Tamar) but I realized that in general, the Bible is not a book of heroes. It's not a book of great moral giants that we might look up to and model ourselves after. Adam eats the fruit. Cain kills his brother. Noah gets drunk and exposes himself. Abraham sleeps with his wife's maid. Isaac plays favorites with his children. Jacob lies and cheats his way through life at every turn. Moses commits murder. As I child, a light bulb went on in my head:

The Bible is a book full of screw-ups.

The funny thing about this is that there seem to be many people who come to a realization of this and it yields the opposite reaction in them from the one it did in me and so many people who know this to be true, and yet still use the Bible as a moral compass. People look at a book like Judges and they say, "How the Hell can I believe in a God who puts crap like this in His Holy Scriptures?" In many ways, the question is raised here, but the answer is hidden in the book of Jonah in the form of a question Jeopardy-style.

"And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle?" (Jonah 4:11)

Jonah is the only book in the Bible to end with a question, and if God thinks leaving the question hanging out there is good enough, I think He wants us to consider it deeply. These 120,000 people God refers to are probably children; God is pointing out that while Nineveh (and the world at large) is full of evil people, if it were even just for the sake of the children, isn't it best to give a chance for people to do better and try again? Some have pointed out that if God only accepted "good people" who never do the wrong thing, then Jonah wouldn't be there to have the question asked to him.

Actually, Jonah would never have been born, because the nation of Israel would have been destroyed in the time of the Judges. Heck, you might as well suppose that they would have been killed at the whole golden calf incident. Or back when one of the Patriarchs screwed up big. Hmm, or maybe God could have just squished Adam and Eve like bugs when they disobeyed, and then none of us would be here at all.

In the book of Judges, the people of Israel go through a repeating cycle. They turn from God. They get in trouble. They turn back to God. God sends someone to save them. They rejoice, and the cycle repeats.

Some call God the "God of second chances." He's also the God of third, fourth, fifth, and 490th chances. If God could use a guy like Samson, a guy who was a drunk, a womanizer, a "momma's boy", a killer, and just generally all-around unpleasant fellow, then surely God could use a guy like me.

That's the hidden message of the book of Judges, and really of the Bible as a whole. It's a message that Bible detractors and followers alike can tend to miss. God is the God of screw-ups and rejects. "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." (Luke 5:32) That's good news for all of us. Don't think you're a screw-up? Maybe you're just a liar.