Thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns (Isaiah 34)

Okay, back to Isaiah chapter 34 for another end times prophecy, and it's a pretty violent one by the look of it, or at least the SAB marks it as such. I answered whether God gets furious in Isaiah chapter 27, and the answer was yes.

So, God here has fury on the armies of all nations, and slaughters them all. It's surely hyperbolic language, but the blood of this slaughter melts away mountains. Clearly this is a massive killing unlike any other with the probable exception of Noah's flood, so yeah, it's violent, but these are armies we're talking about, so it's arguably violence begetting violence. This is likely God protecting Israel from some sort of massive invasion.

Verse four has some interesting language that the SAB marks with the "Science" icon; and indeed, what is being described here sounds very scientifically unsound. It's pretty reasonable to assume "the host of heaven" refers to the stars, so is the imagery of them falling suggestive of a meteor shower? Possibly, but there is the matter of the sky being "rolled together as a scroll" and the fact that it says "all their host", suggesting the sky is essentially obliterated. While it's entirely possible that God miraculously causes the universe to collapse (because he certainly could), and that would sort of fit this description, we're talking about stars that are tens of thousands of light years away (if we're just talking about our galaxy--unfathomably more if the whole universe) collapsing on a time scale that would supposedly be visible from earth. I don't think I have any idea what this verse could reasonably mean! (I mean, it's been suggested by astrophysics that the universe could possibly collapse in on itself in a reverse of the Big Bang, but not only does current evidence suggest that won't happen, we're talking about trillions if not quadrillions of years.)

So the chapter goes on to talk about more violence, this time specifically mentioning Idumea (also known as Edom), but while God is definitely spilling the blood of people, it's apparently also animal sacrifices, as a number of animals are mentioned in verse six. (I don't know why the mention of the fat of sacrifices leads the SAB to talk about fat people, but it does.) Verse seven mentions "unicorns", verse 13 has "dragons", and verse 14 has a "satyr" calling to others of its kind. I talked about mythological beasts in the KJV in chapter eleven, where I said that most of them are questionable translations, a "unicorn" most likely being some sort of wild horned animal, a "dragon" being some sort of large, scary beast, and "satyrs" are probably wild goats. Yes, verse 14's "screech owl" is "lilith" in the Hebrew, which is sometimes considered something mythological, but the word only appears here in the entire Bible, so who knows what is meant?

Verses nine and ten talk about the land becoming burning pitch, supposedly forever (at least it's supposed to be free of people forever), although it goes on to say that various birds will come to live there, which I assume couldn't happen if it's on fire, so this is admittedly a bit unclear.

They shall be burnt with fire (various, burning)

So, because Steve Wells was not quite satisfied with my last post because he felt I didn't fully address the issue of What the Bible says about burning people to death (and I didn't, because I felt the burning in Isaiah chapter 33 was figurative language), I'm going to take a sidebar here and talk about that subject. I have already talked about capital punishment in Exodus and the nature of Hell in John, but I'm sure I'll need to revisit those topics.

Let's start with Genesis 38, and Judah's intent to burn his daughter-in-law to death. This is indeed cruel, and it is in fact unwarranted; this is not God's will, but Judah reacting in anger to a situation that he came to realize he was implicated in the matter. In Joshua 7, where we read about the killing of Achan, yes, he and his family were burned up, but note they were stoned to death first; this is not burning someone to death. 2Samuel 23 is David talking about certain "sons of belial" who are not explicitly identified; it seems reasonable that David is simply saying that evil people will see judgment, perhaps he's even talking about the fires of Hell, although the idea seems iffy.

With all that aside, the two verses from Leviticus are definitely capital offenses that are to be dealt with by burning the offenders. I don't think there's any getting around it, but it's possibly worth noting that both of these offenses are easy to avoid (and a woman who is a prostitute who isn't the daughter of a priest has committed adultery, and would also be put to death, I assume). For some reason, these particular acts--both of a sexual nature--are considered serious enough by God to warrant this punishment, and I don't know why. So what can be said about it? Well, some commentaries point out that the passage in Joshua about Achan suggests that these offenses are trated by first killing the offenders (probably by stoning) and then burning the bodies afterwards. Of course being stoned to death isn't painless either, but it's likely much less painful than being burned.

Okay, so God burned some people to death himself? Let's see those verses. In Leviticus 10, while it says God sent fire to burn Nadab and Abihu to death, if you look at the immediate context, their bodies had to be carried away afterwards, showing that there bodies were not consumed by the fire. This very likely was some sort of supernatural fire, and tradition has it that their bodies were actually unharmed; their death may have not been painful. While I of course can't say that with complete certainty, it is a possibility, and so it may also be the case in these other verses. (Remember Moses and the burning bush that wasn't consumed? It seems there is something that is a manifestation of God that looks like fire, but technically isn't fire.) The Numbers 16 and 1Kings 1 passages do say the men were consumed, so perhaps that's definitely real fire. The Deuteronomy 32 passage definitely sounds like figurative language, especially since it says "burned with hunger". Psalm 21, like much of the Psalms, is being poetic, not necessarily prophetic. Isaiah chapters 24, 33, and 47 are likely symbolic of destruction rather than literal fire, and also the Ezekiel 15 and Jeremiah 49 passages.

Now as I said above, I already addressed the subject of hell, and in that post, I believe I did find that Hell is a place full of fire. However, I also discussed two possibilities with respect to Hell: (1) it is possible that Jesus's death on the cross meant that Hell is no longer a place where people go, because Jesus paid the price for the sin of the world; and (2) it is possible that the burning in Hell is only temporary, and souls are consumed by the fires of Hell. However, I don't think it can be denied that there is an experience of burning on the part of (at least some of) the souls that are in Hell.

David did that which was right (2Samuel 22)

One important thing to say about 2Samuel chapter 22 is that it's out of chronological order. It's been a while since I read 2Samuel, but I seem to recall the last few chapters are a bit of a muddle, and while I don't know about the scholarly consensus on this, I've always suspected that they were added on later. This may make sense of a few issues in the text.

So this is pretty much a psalm. There's going to be some poetic license. There's a lot of flowery speech about God's nostrils and riding on cherubs. Has there ever been a righteous person? Yes, but there is some subjectivity in the term "righteous" that muddies the water here. Sometimes we're talking about being completely righteous and innocent before God, that is, a person has not personally sinned. Sometimes the word "righteous" is used to describe something that a person seeking righteousness will do. Also, the Jewish concept of being "righteous" was largely different than the Christian concept, although there is overlap. The Christian doctrine of "original Sin" suggested that being fully righteous could only be attained through a positional righteousness with respect to Christ, nonetheless Jewish understanding of righteousness was also in part about attempting to grow closer to God. That being said, there's something about being "righteous" that is largely about trying to do right in both religious traditions, although sometimes the term is used to refer to someone who is completely blameless. See? Clear as mud! So, as for the "No" verses: As I've said before, Job is not a theologian, and he's talking from a place of great despair throughout his book. Isaiah is probably talking about the current state of the people of Israel, although many people do interpret this verse to be a universal decree, which is not necessarily a problem; compared to God, humans' acts of righteousness are comparatively "filthy rags." The verse in Isaiah chapter 41 may be similar, but it's worth noting overall that Isaiah has verses on both sides here, so it's unlikely his intentions are contradictory, especially since it appears that even just earlier in chapter 41 Isaiah is talking about "the righteous man". Romans 3:10 is Paul quoting from Psalm 14, which is translated differently in the KJV, and I believe is hyperbole, but Paul is trying to make a point about the law, and the impossibility of man fulfilling it, therefore full righteousness is only truly possible through the grace of God.

Did David sin? Of course he did, but yes, this deserves some examining. Probably the number one thing to say about David is that generally, people don't consider killing people in the course of warfare to be a sin; it's pretty clear David didn't. That's not the source of the contradiction, however. Yes, David sinned in the matter of Uriah and Bathsheba, and he at least felt that he had sinned in performing a census, although the latter is less clear. I believe that this chapter was written before Bathsheba, so while realistically, it's unlikely David was perfect, he had no significant sins at the time this was written. On the other hand, 1Kings was definitely written after David sinned, so what can be said? Something that is very important with respect to sin in God's eyes is repentance, which David was genuinely very good at in all the instances where he was called out. In the Jewish Law, when one sins, if one then repents and gives the proper sacrifice, then one is following the Law. It's really for this reason that David is often brought up as an example of righteousness; not because he was perfect, but because he sought the will of God.

The SAB marks other matters in this psalm with a number of things that are subjective, except for violence, but once again, we're talking about warfare, and scientific issues, but as I've said many times before, in poetry, there's a lot of flowery speech that isn't necessarily meant to be taken literally.

One daughter, whose name was Tamar (2Samuel 13)

2Samuel chapter 13 is a very sad chapter for many reasons. I know Greek has several words for "love" but I'm not sure where Hebrew stands. The word "love" is used several times here for the way Amnon felt towards Absalom's sister Tamar (who was his half sister, of course), but it's very clear that what's being talked about is lust. I've known men who have this sort of attitude towards women; they're crazy about them, until they actually get them in bed, and then they're suddenly trash. Of course anyone rational knows it's the man who is truly trash.

It's interesting that Tamar actually tries to reason with Amnon. She suggests that they should ask David for permission to marry. (I don't know whether it's reasonable to think David would approve, or if she's just looking for a way out.) Once Amnon has taken advantage of her, she pleads to not be sent away, because--just in case you didn't know--she's now no longer a virgin, and therefore essentially a ruined woman in her culture, and her only hope is that Amnon might marry her after the fact. But she is kicked out.

(The SAB makes a side note on her garment, comparing it to Joseph's coat of many colors. I didn't discuss it there, but yes, Joseph's coat was gender nonconforming, and it's not often talked about by Biblical scholars as far as I know. It is interesting speculation that perhaps Joseph was transgender in some fashion, and the issue is at least tangentially touched on in the Bible.)

Absalom finds his sister distraught, and takes her into his house, where she stays for the rest of her life. He doesn't really say much to comfort her, but he plots revenge on Amnon. David hears about what happened, and he's very angry, but it doesn't seem that he does anything about it. The SAB has a strange note for them, in that while they usually stick with the text of the KJV, here they take a detour into the NRSV, where there is added text about Amnon being David's favorite son. I looked and hardly any English translations have this text, although it apparently comes from the Septuagint (an early Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible). I'm not really sure why this apparently rare variant text is needed to supply us with something to complain about. The simple fact that David does nothing about Amnon seems enough of an injustice without a spurious reason why.

Anyway, after waiting two years, Absalom has Amnon killed. Absalom and his men flee from David, apparently assuming they will be in trouble. Someone tells David that Absalom has killed all his brothers, and David mourns. Someone else corrects the story and tells David that just Amnon is dead, and it's likely in retribution for Tamar's rape. Eventually, David is sad and misses Absalom. Nowhere in this story is it said what David, God, or Tamar thinks about Amnon's killing. However, Deuteronomy 22 in most cases sentences a rapist to death.

[Edited to add: The SAB says, "This chapter, which includes incest, rape, murder, should be rated NC-17." I agree, and I think the point being made is appropriate; that there are certain parts of the Bible that are not appropriate for children, and should be shocking to adults. A lot of Christians don't recognize this fact.]

Abiathar the son of Ahimelech (2Samuel 8)

So, back to 2Samuel chapter eight, which was clearly a trap because the SAB sees a lot of violence and injustice, which is hard to deny here. You do have to realize that Israel is at war with all these nations, and nobody has invented the Geneva Convention yet. It's ugly. David is killing two-thirds of the Moabites (it seems reasonable to assume these are POWs) and enslaving the other third; which is a better fate? Hopefully the slaves were treated well, but we can only guess. Why does David hough the chariot horses? I don't know, as it seems pointless and cruel, although a bit of research suggests this doesn't kill the horse, but makes it unsuitable for war use. How many horsemen did David take? This may be a scribal error, or perhaps the writer of Chronicles felt that since there were thousands of footmen, there ought more likely have been thousands of horsemen; who knows?

Yes, God is giving David all of these violent victories, but in the end, it's about preserving Israel against violent enemies who probably would have done the same or worse to them. I don't know that there is anything else I can say about it.

Was Abiathar the father or the son of Ahimelech? I did some research, and there are actually two different Ahimelechs in the Bible, but this doesn't clear up the problem as Ahimelech the Hittite doesn't have a genealogy given, and is clearly nothing to do with this. It seems pretty evident that Ahimelech is the father of Abiathar, and this verse is in error; perhaps the verse in 1Chronicles 24 copied the error, as it was written later. However, the verse 1Chronicles 18:16 says, "Abimelech the son of Abiathar" which may not be a scribal error; Ahimelech may have had a grandson named Abimelech. In the Hebrew alphabet h and b don't look as much like each other as they do in the Latin alphabet.

He shall make it desolate, even until the consummation (Matthew 24)

Wow, chapter 24 looks pretty intense, at least there are a ton of notes on it, so I get the feeling this is going to be a heck of a lot more work than the last chapter.

So Jesus points out the Temple, and tells his disciples that the whole of it is going to be torn down (which I know the SAB doesn't keep track of prophecies that came true, but before the end of the 1st century, the temple was destroyed, and has yet to be rebuilt), this leads to the disciples asking Jesus to tell them more about the future, and Jesus unloads a whole lot of stuff on them. Note that while the SAB says this is all talking about the end of the world, Jesus actually says in verse 6 that "the end is not yet." Still, the general thrust of Jesus' speech here is the events leading up to the second coming and thereafter the end of the world, so make of it what you will.

I'm not sure what to make of the hodge-podge of icons the SAB tosses up over this chapter, including prophecy, absurdity, science/history, injustice, cruelty/violence, contradiction, and interpretation. Women and family values get tossed in about half way through as well. Perhaps I should address this chapter by icon?

Prophecy: Yes, this is all Jesus talking about the future, and I assume that the SAB brings out the "prophecy" icon when it feels that there was a prediction made that didn't come true. I think it's not hard to see that a lot of the things that Jesus talks about here have indeed come to pass, and since the world isn't ended yet, anything that hasn't happened (there are a few, admittedly) still could. I think that the issue that the SAB has with this is the idea that "all of these things will happen within the lifespan of Jesus' contemporaries" as they seem to take verse 34 as saying. Verse 34 actually says, "Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled." I think the interpretation hinges on what you think "This generation" means. It's not unreasonable to take the position that the SAB takes, but I've always taken the position that he was talking about the generation that sees certain things come to pass will see the end. What certain things? Some have suggested that the generation that sees the recreation of the nation of Israel is the generation talked about here, and that's a possibility. (The SAB even mentions this possibility with respect to the failed modern-day prophecy of Hal Lindsey on verse 32.) Another is the generation that sees the rebuilding of the Jewish temple, as that sets the stage for the "abomination of desolation" which is something horrible that's supposed to happen in the temple. There's a lot of room for interpretation here, and I think it's a bad idea for even (maybe especially) Christians to try to read too much specific in here. (The supposed failed prophecy of verse 14 I discussed back in Matthew 10.)

Absurdity: As usual, I have a hard time figuring out what the SAB specifically finds absurd here, so I don't think I can address this one.

Science and history: I don't see any obvious historic problems with this chapter, so I'm guessing the issue here is the scientific note on verse 29? This all goes back to some similar things I said when going through the early part of Genesis. Just because the verse says "the moon shall not give her light" doesn't mean that Jesus is making a scientific statement about the nature of moonlight. The very fact that English has the word "moonlight" means that we can talk about it while being aware that it is, by nature, reflected sunlight. Now, as for stars falling from Heaven, this could just be a description of a meteor shower, which people today who know the true nature thereof still refer to as "shooting stars". In short, I think the SAB is reading way too much into this short verse.

Injustice, cruelty and violence: I'd be willing to say that there's some unjust and violent stuff happening here, but usually when the SAB calls something unjust or cruel, it's trying to say that God in particular was being unjust or cruel, which I don't see any particular basis for here. Some awful stuff happens during this time described, but I don't see any of it explicitly said to be the doing of God.

Contradiction: The SAB marks a handful of passages with contradictions. The only one I haven't covered elsewhere is Will Jesus' second coming be visible to all? to which I would say that the single verse in the "no" column is not meant to be taken as for all time.

Interpretation: Not sure how to address this one since I'm not sure which verse(s) it refers to, and I tend to find these interpretive differences uninteresting to me, since I usually care very little what the Watchtower Society or Hal Lindsey might have had to say about it.

Women, family values: I guess verse 19 is the particular verse that this issue refers to, but I think it's easily addressed. Jesus isn't saying that pregnant and nursing women are especially cursed, but only points out that when things get really difficult, it may be especially difficult for this subsection of society.

Vile figs, that cannot be eaten, they are so evil (Matthew 21)

The first question of chapter 21 is the timing of Jesus' "temple tantrum", a term I've never heard before, and while I don't think it's likely to catch on, it does have a ring to it. The Gospel of John clearly puts it at the beginning of his ministry, while the others put it near the end. There are two common interpretations of this discrepancy, the most common one being that this event happened twice, and John's Gospel tells the first time, while the others tell the latter. Another possibility (although this may be my own interpretation alone, as I can't recall specifically hearing this anywhere) is that John's Gospel is simply not interested in chronology, and specifically outside of the last week of Jesus' life, John simply strings together stories he remembers in any old order, which also explains why his Gospel is so different from the other three.

The next question is the manner of transportation that Jesus used to enter Jerusalem. There is definitely some confusion here, but note that while the other Gospels are arguing between a colt and an ass, the passage here in Matthew talks of "a colt the foal of an ass" which would indicate that the colt was an ass nonetheless. So that really leaves only Matthew that seems to be indicating Jesus riding on two animals. Since, as the SAB itself seems to be well aware, this is pretty much a physical impossibility, I would say that Jesus rode on the colt (a young ass) and perhaps the mare (if that's the right term) was brought along.

Anyway, all of this was supposed to fulfill a prophecy in Zachariah 9:9, but the SAB objects that this cannot be correct due to technicalities in the following verses, namely that Jesus failed to have an army or (an earthly) kingdom. This is the sort of technicality that never bothers Christians, though, I'm afraid, as there is an understanding that a future day is coming at which all of that will be completely fulfilled. There are actually a lot of prophecies that Jesus sort of half-fulfilled with an understanding that the complete fulfillment would come in the future. I'm sure most skeptics will call that sort of thing a cop-out once again, but I've got nothing else on this one.

Later in the chapter, Jesus famously curses a fig tree, but how fast did the curse take? In this telling of the story, it says "presently the fig tree withered away" while in Mark's Gospel, we're told "in the morning" they saw the "tree dried up from the roots". This could certainly be an outright contradiction, or it could be that certain members of Jesus' party noticed it at different times, or it could be that there's something else going on here which is a pure guess on my part: perhaps "withered away" and "dried up from the roots" could be different terms for stages of drying out that the tree passed through. I don't know enough Greek (or enough about figs) to say whether that has any deeper merit, I only toss it out as a possibility, as I recall there was a similar issue involved in drying of the ground after Noah's flood. (I think I've mostly been skipping the "What the Bible says about X" pages when they come up, but I think there's a quick note I could make about the fig page: All this destroying of fig trees is, I think a testimony of how good figs are rather than bad. After all, if you want to punish someone, you take away something good, right? You don't see God smiting their poison ivy or some such plant, do you?)

Jesus tells a parable of a rented vineyard in verses 33-41, and the SAB marks it with injustice and violence. I've got to ask, towards whom? I would agree that the people running the vineyard were unjust and violent, but I'm not sure that's what the SAB means, perhaps implying that "the lord of the vineyard" was unjust and violent for taking revenge on these men for killing his servants and son. If so, I can't really agree.

Last issue in the chapter is verse 44, which is marked as violent, unjust, and intolerant. That's a lot to pile on a bit of poetic language, as the stone spoken of is indeed Jesus, but that being so, what does the verse really mean? (After all, Jesus is not literally a stone.) I have my own thoughts, but barring an interpretation of what the SAB thinks it means, I'm not sure what to say.

This is the second death (Matthew 10)

So the first (substantive) issue that comes up in Matthew 10 is the matter of what the names of the apostles were. There are actually many minor issues here, as many of the apostles were known by more than one name, such as Peter a.k.a. Simon, but the SAB points out the most difficult one, this "Lebbaeus, whose surname was Thaddaeus" fellow. Mark's Gospel refers to "Thaddeus" but the two times Luke refers to the apostles by name, he refers to "Judas the brother of James" which is never explained anywhere to be the same person. I think, however, that the fact that a lot of people in the New Testament have more than one name that they go by suggests that it's quite possibly what's going on here. Both Lebbaeus and Thaddaeus may have been nicknames of Judas, as both apparently mean something like "large-hearted".

Should the Gospel be preached to everyone? Well, I don't know for sure, but it seems to me that what is going on in this passage in particular is that at this time, Jesus isn't sending the Gospel outside of Israel, but that doesn't mean that it's never to be the case.

Did Jesus tell his apostles to go barefoot and without a staff? Once again, I have to hand it to the SAB for being so detail-oriented, as I doubt I would have ever noticed this oddity. I think it can be explained, though. In the matter of staves, I think what's being said here is much like what's being said about coats; it's not that they can't have a staff, but that they should refrain from bringing a spare. Going more out on a limb here, as I don't know first century customs regarding footwear, I think a distinction is being made between sandals and heavier footwear, that they can wear the former but not the latter. (I checked, and it is a different word in the Greek, at least.)

At the mention of the infamous ancient city, the SAB asks the question "What was Sodom's sin?" I don't think this question belongs here, but I'll address it nonetheless, as it's a good one. The reason I don't think it belongs is that I don't think that verse 15 or the parallel passage in Luke 10 actually say what Sodom's crime was but only hold the city up as a comparison. (The passage from Jeremiah 23 does likewise.) While homosexuality could possibly have been an issue, I don't see a lot of evidence for it. Yes, Ezekiel says they committed an "abomination", but the Hebrew word for "abomination" that Ezekiel uses shows up over 100 times in the O.T., and only once or twice is it associated with homosexuality, so that doesn't narrow it down much; I'd say it actually is more often associated with improper sacrificial practices than improper sexual practices anyway. No, I think that the passage in Ezekiel lists the real crimes of Sodom, but they are listed in a more general sense rather than a list of specific things.

The SAB puts a whole bunch of its category labels on verse 21, because yeah, it's talking about some pretty awful stuff. While I don't disagree that this is bad, I'm assuming that the SAB is trying to imply that Jesus wants this bad stuff or something, and I don't think that's the case. Intolerance, violence, and injustice are terrible things, but they happen because that's unfortunately just the way people are. The fact that Jesus knew these things would happen doesn't mean that he made them that way. When the next verse says "...he that endureth to the end shall be saved." I think the SAB is reading too much into it to say that this is like instructions on how to be saved. Rather I think it's saying that those who do not endure will not be saved, so take it as an encouragement rather than a sort of rule.

Verse 23 is an odd one, and I suppose it does sound a bit like it's talking about the timing of end of the world. I don't know that it is, though. For one thing, it may be talking about how the apostles in particular will not manage to preach in every city of Israel, although the Gospel may eventually be preached by others nonetheless. For another thing, there may be another meaning to "till the Son of man be come." I think the bigger issue in comparing it to Matthew 24:14 is that that verse says the Gospel would be preached to "all nations" which doesn't imply necessarily "all cities". As it happens, there are Christians in every one of the world's 200-odd countries (it's hard to say how many there are as it changes, and it's hard to say what counts as a country) but certainly not in every city, so the gospel has in a sense come to "all nations" while it very well may have never been preached in numerous cities of Israel.

The SAB asks if we should fear God, a question I addressed at length back here in what I think was one of my better posts. The SAB also asks whether or not Hell exists, which I'm certain I have not addressed. It's actually a difficult question, though, at least in the way that the SAB frames it. That is to say, I'm pretty well certain that the Bible teaches that Hell is a real place, but I will readily admit that it's a place of questionable nature. (I have some reflections on the nature of Hell in my other blog here.) There are those who, no doubt in part due to many of the verses in the second part of the linked page, believe that Hell is a place where the ungodly go after death to be destroyed rather than eternally punished as is the common understanding among mainstream Christians. It may be that some of this is a matter of a sort of poetic use of the term "death" as I've heard many say; when the Bible talks of the "death" of a soul, it may be referring to the eternal torment of Hell as a sort of death. I'm going to set that issue aside as a deeper bit of theology that I feel may be out of my scope and address the "everyone goes to heaven" section of the page (although it may be too deep as well, just shorter).

There is a doctrine that's part of strict Calvinism that suggests that when Jesus died for our sins, he didn't die for the sins of unbelievers, only those who would eventually come to faith. I think that 1John 2:2 suggests that this is not the case, but note that while that verse says that Jesus "is the propitiation...for the sins of the whole world" it does not say that the whole world will go to Heaven. Now when 1Timothy 4:10 says "...specially of those that believe", I think it's approaching the nature of the real truth. The metaphor that I've always gone with is that when Jesus died on the cross, it was like he signed a blank check to pay for the sins of each and every person in the world. The problem of faith is that a blank check is only worth something if you believe in it: everyone has this spiritual blank check, but are you going to sign the back and cash it out? I'm sure it sounds weird, but it works for me, and I hope it clarified a bit where my belief is anyway.

I'm not sure what the SAB is on about with sparrows (marked with the "science" icon), so I'm not sure whether I can address it. As the SAB says, God thinks human beings are worth much more than sparrows, and I'm inclined to agree. If there's scientific evidence that this is not so, I'd probably find it interesting.

I know that the SAB is interpreting verses 32-33 more strictly than I would, and I'm guessing that most Christians would also take this as more of a guideline than a strict rule. In particular, as is pointed out, Peter denied knowing Jesus at the time of his crucifixion, but later in life was a powerful, outspoken evangelist, so I don't think he lost his salvation over it.

Verses 34-37 have a lot of the same issues that verse 21 had, but there may be a few more things to say about these verses. As for whether Jesus is peaceful, it's a bit complicated, and I addressed that issue at the end of this post. I think there is a lot of misunderstanding of the meaning of verse 37 in particular, as it sounds pretty bad (although not as bad as some similar verses). Jesus is simply saying that in the end, our love of God should be our strongest love. Does that mean that we should be cruel to our family in any way? I don't believe so.

Most of the rest of the chapter is flowery poetic talk that I don't know I fully follow the meaning of so well, to be honest, although I can say that I addressed the question of whether there was ever a righteous person in this post.

And all his house died together (2Sam 2)

So in chapter 2, David finally becomes king officially. However, at apparently around the same time, Abner decides to declare Saul's son Ishbosheth the king. No doubt Abner, being a close relative of Saul, would prefer to keep the monarchy in the family.

This does present a problem for the SAB though, in that according to 1Chronicles 10, "all [Saul's] house died together" during the battle that saw the death of Saul. One of the things that can be said in reply to this is that it may not be clear what comprises Saul's "house". It's well established elsewhere that at least one of Saul's grandchildren is alive, and as I just said above, Abner is a relative of Saul. One might consider the idea that his "house" is his royal line, but even that is problematic, as Ishbosheth not only survives, but briefly sits on the throne. It might also be that Saul's "house" refers to men in his family of the proper age to fight in wars, but since Ishbosheth is somewhere around forty years old when Saul dies, this seems highly unlikely. While one can also sometimes find some ambiguity in the word "together", I don't think that's going to suffice here either, as clearly Isbosheth lives at least two years after Saul's death. The only real room for ambiguity in the language here that I can see is in the word "son", which as has been mentioned several times is a much more fluid word in Hebrew, capable of referring to any descendant. If Ishbosheth was Saul's grandson, perhaps there is no contradiction, but there's really no indicator of such an idea other than the fact that it might solve this issue, and that Ishbosheth doesn't seem to ever be mentioned until this point. In short, I don't know what to make of the claim of 1Chronicles 10:6.

A strange story follows. The armies of David and Ishbosheth meet together in Gibeon, and Abner suggests "Let the young men now arise, and play before us." The play turns out to be lethal, and in short order, twenty-four men are dead. Is this a "cruel game" as the SAB says? Maybe. The way it sounds to me is that the idea was to have a relatively non-violent wrestling match, and it turned sour, as every single one of the men was set on treachery against their opponent. Indeed, this is a violent event, and one that doesn't make much sense, especially since there are no formally declared hostilities between these two armies.

The next notable event in the plot is Abner's killing of Asahel, the brother of Joab. This seems to be clearly a case of self-defense, as well as a killing in the midst of battle, and yet Joab later seeks revenge for this act. Once all the fighting is done on this particular day, Ishbosheth's soldiers lose 360 men, while David loses only 20.

And two hundred abode by the stuff (1Sam 30)

Amalekites, don't they ever quit? Apparently not in chapter 30. Now I'll say that I'm fine with standing on what I had said before, but here there may be yet another possibility as to what's going on. It might be that the story in chapter 27 is a telescoping of several events into a single story, and the time that David wiped out the Amalekites in that chapter was actually an out-of-order version of this story, if you follow. This time, despite the claim of the marginal note on verse 17, the genocide is not complete, nor was it unprovoked.

The SAB says "David just keeps getting more wives." While true in a more general sense, there are no new wives in this chapter, David still being at two or three, depending on whether you count Michal. There is also a note once again concerning Abiathar's dubious lineage.

After the battle, David decides that those people who stayed behind to guard the supplies deserve the spoils of war just as much as those who rode out for the battle.

This battle was indeed violent, but I have nothing to add to comments I've given before in this book and in other places.

And David came to Saul, and stood before him: and he loved him greatly (1Sam 26)

Chapter 26 has no notes from the SAB, but perhaps it's a good time to pause for a moment and consider a few points that could have been brought up in earlier chapters, but I didn't yet bother with. With this chapter carrying a bit of a repititious story, it's a good time to comment.

Once again, Saul comes after David to kill him, and once again, Saul is caught in a position where he is entirely at David's mercy. Of course, once again, David spares him.

I've been arguing a lot in both my analyses and in the comments thereafter the point of self-defense. I think when a person is after you to take your life or harm your family, you have a moral right to fight back. Yes, Jesus preached that we should "turn the other cheek", but that's an idealistic command, not always a practical one. Call it a cop-out for a Christian if you will, but that's how I feel. Personally, I don't know that I could kill someone with any provocation, but I wouldn't at all look down on someone else who killed another as a defensive act.

That being said, there's a lot of violence going around in the book of 1Samuel, and many people in the story don't seem to have qualms about killing, even when not in self-defense. David arguably has basis to call the killing of Saul self-defense; surely that's what Abishai is thinking when he suggests that Saul should be killed. Not only is it a good excuse for David, but there's an added bonus that Saul's blood wouldn't be on David's hands, since Abishai is offering to do the deed himself. David tells Abishai not to touch him; why?

There are a number of possible reasons that David may be so hesitant to lay a finger on Saul. The reason David gives is that Saul is the anointed king of Israel, and as such, no Israelite (not even David himself) has the right to hurt him. Perhaps David really feels this is the case, and his given reasons are completely honest.

Other possibilities exist, however, and it may be one or more of them. Note the fact that in moments of peace between them, Saul addresses David as "son", and David in return calls him "father" (24:11). I do think that despite Saul's animosity towards this future king, David has a soft spot in his heart for Saul, both out of his love for Saul directly, and indirectly out of his love for Jonathan, and thus the vow he made to both of them that he would not enact violence on their descendants.

The most practical answer, and also the most cynical, but one not to be dismissed, is that David felt that he was setting an example in the way he interacted with Saul. After all, if some kid who thinks he ought to be the king of Israel can just sneak into the king's tent one night and bump him off, what's to stop the same from happening to David in the future? Perhaps also, almost going back full circle to the first reason, he is fearing that if he strikes down Saul, he virtually sets it up as a rule that kings of Israel will be deposed by assassination. Call it karma, justice, the will of God, or what have you, but if David does this to Saul, he's virtually bound to meet the same fate a few years down the road.

Whatever the real reason, Saul is allowed to live once again, and the two men part ways in peace, never to meet again.

The ruler of the half part of Keilah (1Sam 23)

Chapter 23 is pretty standard fare for the most part. David has decided to do something about the invading Philistines, despite the fact that he's more or less in hiding from Saul. This of course leads to claims of violence, etc. from the SAB; insert stock answer here re self-defense.

It is a little odd that David "enquired of the LORD" twice, my thought on that is that the first time was more privately, and when his men expressed doubt, he did it more publicly to give them assurance. (Apparently the ephods that the priests carried could be used in some manner for a sort of divination, thus the mention of one being carried by Abiathar son of Ahimelech.)

In the midst of the fighting, David starts to worry nonetheless that the people of Keilah that he had come to save will still show greater allegiance to Saul, and turn him over to the King once the fighting is over. He asks God, and is assured that it is the case. So begins a deadly game of cat-and-mouse between Saul and David, in which Saul spends a great deal of energy hunting down David to kill him, but David only wants to be left alone, as we see in the next chapter.

When Doeg the Edomite came and told Saul (1Sam 22)

So David and his family flee to Moab, and after David sees to it that his family is taken care of, he returns to the land of his tribe, Judah, now with a small army to protect him.

Saul meanwhile is very unhappy with, well, pretty much everyone and everything. The fact that David is against him, and Jonathan, his own son, is a friend of David has caused him to become paranoid. He gives a speech to his Benjamite soldiers, pointing out that surely David will not give the sort of deference to the tribe of Benjamin that he himself has. He questions their loyalty.

Doeg the Edomite (a foreigner, in case you didn't catch it) speaks up to show his own loyalty, pointing out that he saw David visit the priests in Nob. Saul sends for Ahimelech and demands to know "Why have ye conspired against me, thou and the son of Jesse...?" Ahimelech insists (honestly, by the look of things) that he had no idea David was not on a mission from Saul, but Saul refuses to believe this excuse, and tells his men to kill all of the priests. The men refuse, but Doeg apparently eagerly complies, killing not only the priests, but every person and animal in the city of Nob. The SAB notes this as violent, to which I wholeheartedly agree, and with the "Family Values" icon, the reason for which completely escapes me.

And now to Abiathar the priest. Here, as I mentioned in my previous commentary, is some confusion as to lineage. Is Abiathar the father or the son of Ahimelech. You know, one thing I tried to do was see if this complex sentence (verse 20) could be unraveled to translate differently, such as the idea that "named Abiathar" could be a reference not to the son that escaped, but that it was saying Abithar was another name for Ahitub, who seems to be clearly the father of Ahimelech (at least in this verse). It doesn't seem to be so, especially since the following verse seems to make clear that Abiathar was the escapee, the clear subject of the sentence.

Clearly there is an error somewhere, but as I said, I can't seem to let it go with that, and I've been doing some reading, trying to unravel it as much as I can. First of all, I'm fairly certain the answer is once again with the minority reading, that is, Ahimelech is the father, despite the fact that more verses name him as the son. Why do I think this? Well, firstly because those verses saying Abiathar is the father are ones that were written later, much longer after the events' actual occurrence, so that makes it seem to me that they are slightly more likely to be erroneous. Secondly, and more importantly, there are several verses such as this one that mention Ahimelech as the son of Ahitub, who is (according to 1Sam.14:3) the grandson of Eli, which seems to fit in pretty good culturally and with the timeline. On the other hand, I don't think there is an instance of a single verse that lists anyone else as being the father of Abiathar other than Ahimelech in these two chapters.

Admittedly, there is still some confusion beyond that. I tried to map out the family tree of Eli, but it gets murky after a few generations, partially due to the fact that there are multiple people with the same name (there seem to be two different priests by the name of Zadok, both of whom were contemporaries of David), and the genealogy doesn't seem to be in anywise complete. This may be the key to the answer, but I'll admit this theory, while possible, doesn't seem to be strongly supported: It may be that since Ahimelech was killed in the massacre at Nob, Abiathar may have named his next child after his dead father as a memorial. In such a case, the latter mentions of "Ahimelech the son of Abiathar" would actually be to the grandson of the Ahimelech in these two chapters. I think if this were the case, there would be some mention of the fact that this special repeat naming had taken place (after all, it seems to me it makes for an interesting story) but there is no mention of it, so it remains questionable speculation.

Whoever Abiathar is (and I'll say that despite Jesus referring to him as the high priest, I think there's still possibility that he was not high priest until after the massacre, if that sounds weird, feel free to ask in the comments), David invites him to come with him and his company, as they now share a common enemy in Saul.

The Agagite, the Jews' enemy (1Sam 15)

Now whereas I usually feel there is an easy response to challenges of violence and intolerance (most of what has been seen in this book so far has been violence in self-defense), chapter 15 presents us with the first example of God-ordered genocide with no immediately obvious purpose. Sure, back in Joshua it was a matter of establishing the nation in the land of Canaan, both for the benefit of Israel and the punishing of evil pagan nations. Here, however, God orders Saul to take his now-sizable and experienced army and attack a foreign country for what seems to be a petty reason. Not that what Amalek did to the Israelites wasn't serious, but as the SAB points out, we're talking about an event centuries previous. In some respects, it seems something akin to me taking it upon myself as a grown man in my mid-thirties to working out and getting strong so I can go pummel a bully who took my lunch money in first grade.

Furthermore, there is no ambiguity here; God really is looking for genocide, not merely punishment, ordering the complete destruction of men, women, children, babies and even livestock. Why does God want this? There's a very subtle clue that we won't find in this chapter, but it brings up possibly another issue that the SAB does not address. After all this setup, I intend to answer this at the end of the entry.

Saul goes off to battle, but he doesn't end up completely destroying everything, saving some of the best livestock, and king Agag as a prisoner. God's not happy, and He says, "It repenteth me that I have set up Saul to be king," leading the SAB to ask the important question, "Does God repent?" I think I addressed this before (yep, here it is), but just in case I didn't, the answer is, "Well, it depends on what you mean by 'repent'." It's understood that the nature of God is such that He, being all-knowing, never comes to be surprised by the outcome of His decisions. Since He knew all that Saul would do as king from the beginning of time, it wouldn't be theologically proper to interpret this verse as God saying, "What was I thinking when I let this joker be king?!" When God "repents", what it means is that He has let the course of history go on long enough, and He is going to now step into the picture and move things in a new direction. The people wanted a king, and God gave them Saul. Now Saul is no longer of any use to God in his position as king, and God will now take steps to remove and replace him. (Note also that in the very same chapter, we are told that God does not repent (v. 29), so clearly the writer means something unusual here, or you have to assume almost immediate self-contradiction, which seems unlikely.)

Samuel comes to Saul and asks him why he didn't obey the command of God. Saul blames the people, saying that they wanted to take some of the best sheep and bring them back as a sacrifice. This is of course, a very lame excuse for a couple reasons, only one of which is stated in the text at this point. The unstated reason is that Saul is the king, which makes him supposedly the man in charge. If things go wrong, he has to take responsibility, not say, "Well, these people didn't want to do it." Secondly, as Samuel points out, isn't it better to just do what you're told than to disobey and excuse your actions by saying, "I was going to do this other thing that I thought would be cool!"

Samuel informs Saul that since he rejected God's command, God's rejects Saul's kingship. Finally, Saul admits he screwed up, and admits both aspects of his mistake, asking Samuel to pray for his restoration, which Samuel refuses to do. However, in some manner that's hard to fully decipher in the King James English, he does something to allow Saul to save face to some degree.

Now, Samuel turns to the matter of the remaining Amalekite, King Agag. He calls for him to be brought, and Agag is nervous, pleading that surely he himself need not die. Samuel kills him, making the genocide of the Amalekites almost complete.

What's missing, and what was the point of all this bloodshed? Some have made the point that Saul's failure led to a dark day in Israel's history, centuries later. In the book of Esther, a man by the name of Haman rises to power in the Persian Empire, and uses his authority to attempt to exterminate the Jews. Who is Haman? He is identified as an "Agagite", that is, he is a descendant of King Agag, the last surviving Amalekite. The issue that this brings up for some skeptics is, if Agag was the last survivor, how is it that he seems to have had children? Two possibilities exist. Either Saul, in sparing Agag, also spared his children, or the possibility also exists that Agag had children in the time span between the destruction of Amalek and his death at the hand of Samuel. This second possibility points out how sometimes a careful reading of Scripture can make you aware of the passing of time that is not obvious on a quick surface read. In verse 12, Samuel hears, "Saul came to Carmel, and, behold, he set him up a place". Other translations make this clearer; what has happened is Saul has stopped on his return home to have a monument built in his own honor. This must have taken some time, perhaps even months, and the war itself wasn't instantaneous. In this time, it seems likely that Agag's children somehow escaped, and grew over time into a small nation that had, perhaps understandably, some unresolved issues with Israel. God understands the relationships between nations, and does what He must to preserve Israel against violent opposition.

The time when kings go forth to battle (1Sam 11)

Chapter 11 is the sort of chapter in the Bible that really makes this sort of thing fun. Whether or not everyone who reads this ends up agreeing with me, I do feel that I have very appropriate responses to every issue brought up by the SAB in this chapter.

The Ammonites, led by Nahash, come up to Jabeshgilead and prepare to do battle against the inhabitants there. The men there send him a message that they don't want to fight, but would rather make peace. Nahash says, "I'll let you live if you show your loyalty to me by gouging out all your right eyes!" Not surprisingly, they hesitate to agree to this, and send for help.

The word reaches Saul that his fellow Israelites are in trouble, and "the Spirit of God came upon Saul". I make no excuse for this, because I think this is one of the times that Saul is acting in the proper manner for a king of Israel, seizing the opportunity to rally together all the people of Israel and unite them in a common cause. His actions indicate to all the people the seriousness of the cause and their king, and the entire nation rallies at Bezek.

Saul sends messengers to Jabeshgilead, telling them that help is on the way by the following afternoon. True to his promise, the next day the army arrives and fights until the Ammonite army is completely destroyed. (That is, not everyone killed, but "so that two of them were not left together.")

Now I realize that this is in the midst of a bloody battle, but I have to give props to Saul for one more thing here that I personally think the SAB should put a "Good things" label on. After the victory, everyone is so excited about the new unity and military/political power of Israel, that they suggest that the people in the last chapter who rejected Saul be rounded up and killed. Saul immediately squashes this idea, which you can guess from the way things have gone in Israel up until this point, would probably have been a successful endeavor, with virtually nobody to be the voice of reason if Saul had not protested. Instead, they go to Gilgal to make sacrifices to God and recommit themselves to the kingdom of Israel.

Maybe you disagree, but I call it a happy ending.

Hophni and Phinehas; in one day they shall die both of them. (1Sam 4)

So despite the fact that the SAB has no notes on chapter 4, there's a lot here that I really think is noteworthy, including the fact that there are no notes despite the presence of certain items.

Israel goes to battle against the Philistines, and early in the fighting, they sustain casualties in the neighborhood of 4,000. The SAB doesn't mark this attack against Israel as violent, unjust and intolerant, despite the fact that I'm certain it would had the roles been reversed. What's up with this? I only ask for consistency here.

Now, as things are going pretty badly, some people get a bright idea: Since it served them so well in the days of Joshua, why not run back to Shiloh and fetch the ark of the covenant, and take it into battle? So they send for it, and Eli's sons bring it to the front lines. At first, it seems this might do them well, as the Philistines get worried. In the end, things go worse for them as the Israelites discover that the ark isn't some sort of battle-winning magic charm. This time 30,000 of them are struck down (still no comment from the SAB, although I think Steve Wells might reasonably add these folks to his list of people killed by God, as I think they lost this battle to be taught a lesson), including Eli's two sons, thus fulfilling the prophecy.

A man runs from the battle back to Shiloh to inform Eli of what has happened. Eli, being old, blind, and overweight, falls over backward at the shock of the news, and breaks his neck. When his daughter-in-law hears the news, she goes into labor and gives birth to a child, who is named Ichabod ("no glory") to commemorate this terrible day in Israel's history. (It sounds as though she may have died in giving birth, too, but it's not fully clear.) Pretty much all of the misfortune that befalls Israel in general and Eli's family in particular is the result of dealing with God in a far too casual manner.

Of course, the Philistines aren't going to have a good time of this, either.

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...