Judges 17-21 - A Dark Hour for Israel

This section begins with the story of a man named Micah. He reveals to his mother that the eleven hundred shekels that were stolen from her, and that he has heard her utter a curse about, were in fact taken by him. She is so relieved to have the shekels back that she seems to forget all about the curse and instead uses two hundred of them to make a idol, which she then gives to Micah. He has stolen from his own mother and yet he somehow manages to profit from his crime even after he has confessed to it. He's a sneaky one. That a mother would go easy on her own son is hardly surprising, but it does suggest that God's law has been forgotten. And there is worse to come, as Micah sets up a shrine, makes an ephod and some more idols, and installs one of his sons as a priest. It seems true worship has been abandoned here too.

It is at this point that we read that "in those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit". So it is not just Micah and his family who have lost their way. Disobedience is endemic and justice no longer governs Israel. The implication is that things have gone wrong because Israel has no king, but we live in a culture of many kings - in politics, in the media, in the bizarre world of celebrity - and yet still everyone does as they see fit. The theory doesn't quite work. The people do not go wrong simply because they have no leader, they go wrong because they have forgotten their true leader. Much the same may be said for us. We screw up not because our leaders are wrong but because we follow the wrong leaders. Whatever circumstance we find ourselves in, whatever power we find ourselves under, we are responsible for our own actions and we have a true king in God. There are no excuses.

Micah already has his son working as his priest, but when a Levite passes through the town, he seizes the opportunity and appoints him in his place. He thinks that the Lord will now bless him, but he doesn't realise that it takes more than a priest. It's all well and good Micah appointing a priest from the tribe God elected for that role, but it means nothing if his own worship is not true and his behaviour is not honourable. We can't pick and choose the commands we follow and we can't rely on others to put us right with God. We must seek God for ourselves and follow him with all our heart and mind and energy.

Micah's plan soon fails anyway, when the tribe of Dan move into the area looking for land to claim as their inheritance. The Danites steal Micah's idols and convince his priest so serve them instead, then threated him with violence when he tries to reclaim what is his. Micah acts quite sensibly for perhaps the first time in this story and backs down, leaving the Danites to attack and burn a peaceful and unsuspecting town and settle there. They continue to use Micah's idols, and I'm sure they brought them as much success as they brought Micah.

And now we reach the part I've been dreading. These closing chapters of Judges are truly horrific and I really wish I didn't have to read them or write about them, but sadly we cannot always ignore the things we do not like. In fact, it is usually the things that distress us most that we most need to confront. So, the basic story is as follows. A Levite man takes a concubine, but she runs away and returns home. After a few months, the man travels to her father's house to bring her back. On their way home, they stop in a town called Gibeah and are offered hospitality by an old man. In an echo of the story of Lot in Sodom, the men of the town come to the house saying they want to have sex with the Levite. The old man says this would be a disgrace because he is a guest, and offers them his daughter and the Levite's concubline. They don't listen, so the Levite decides to take some decisive action and throws his concubine to the men. They rape her all night, and at daybreak she staggers back to the old man's house and dies on the doorstep.

It scarcely seems possible, but things get even worse. The concubine does not even receive honour in death, as the Levite chops her into twelve pieces and sends them to every area of Israel. Unsurprisingly, the Israelites want to know what this is all about, and so they gather to hear the Levite's story. They condemn this "lewd and disgraceful act" and decide to send a tenth of their men against the Benjamites, as it was men from the tribe of Benjamin who were responsible. They tell the Benjamites to send out the guilty men but they refuse, and so the two forces meet in battle. On the first two days, the Benjamites hold their ground and kill thousands of the Israelites, despite their significantly smaller number. Then on the third day, the Israelites set an ambush and destroy the Benjamite army, then attack the towns of Benjamin, killing all that they find and burning the towns. By the end of the day, six hundred men who escaped the battle are all that remain of the tribe of Benjamin.

The men of the remaining tribes declare that they will not give their daughters in marriage to the Benjamites. However, it is not long before they begin to soften, mourning the loss of one of the tribes of Israel, and wondering how they can provide wives for the survivors in the light of their oath. The next day, they meet to determine if anyone failed to assemble to fight Benjamin, as they had sworn to kill those who failed to fight. They discover that no one from Jabesh Gilead was present and decide to kill two birds with one stone. They send twelve thousand men to the town, and kill all the men and all the women who are not virgins. Four hundred virgins survive, and these women are given over to the Benjamites.

This still leaves two hundred Benjamites without wives, and so the people again grieve for Israel, saying that the Benjamites must have wives so that they may have heirs so that the tribe may not die out. What they need is a loophole, and sure enough they find one. They realise that they have said they won't give their daughters to the Benjamites, but that doesn't mean the Benjamites can't take them, and so they instruct the men of Benjamin to hide in the vineyards at the annual festival, then run out and grab any girl they like when they come out to dance. This is exactly what they do, and so the future of the twelve tribes is assured.

Where do I start? This is a story which begins and ends with the abuse of women and takes in almost every violation imaginable. It is a story which tells of the consequences of the objectification and commodification of women. And worst of all, it is a story which is not too far away from reality for many women. Daughters are still given away in marriage to husbands they did not choose and from whom they would wish to run. Women are still used as bargaining tools, still raped, still killed, still taken by force. Whether it is honour killing in the Middle East, systematic rape in Somalia and the Congo, female genital mutilation in countries across Africa and Asia, sex trafficking in Eastern Europe, acid attacks in Pakistan, male guardianship in Saudi Arabia or the ubiquitous glass ceiling in the West, women everywhere face problems unique to their gender and are made to suffer simply because they are female.

The Israelites rightly condemned what happened to the Levite's concubine, but they utterly failed in their response. All they did was create more bloodshed and force hundreds more women into the situation the concubine was trying to escape in the first place. So often we are guilty of the same thing. We react with shock and disgust to an article about the latest figures on honour killings, and then we turn the page and forget about it. We are moved to tears by an interview with a survivor of FGM, and then we remember we need to take the meat out of the freezer and we forget the woman we wept for a moment earlier. We nod approvingly when we read about a charity which helps women out of the sex trade, but fail to do our bit to challenge the raunch culture that keeps that trade alive. It's not always easy to know what to do, but we must know that we have to do something.

I believe it starts with awareness. The statistics and the stories do not make for pleasant reading, but they make for even less pleasant living. It's very tempting to turn away from those things that make us feel uneasy, but why should we when the victims cannot? We need to know what is happening, however uncomfortable that process may be. And when we know, we naturally react. Unfortunately there will be those whose reaction is apathy or approval - that's why the abuse continues - but most of us must surely react with deep sadness and anger. The key is then turning that reaction into a response. That may mean supporting organisations who already work with women. It may mean taking issue with a sexist joke and challenging somebody's way of thinking. It may mean some level of political activism or direct involvement. Or it may mean something as simple as talking openly to people about these issues so that they too become aware and the cycle might start again with them. Whatever it means for you, make it mean something for those women for whom abuse is a fact of life.

Judges 13-16 - Samson (and Delilah)

Once again, we find the Israelites doing evil in the sight of the Lord. It's starting to get boring, and more than a little frustrating. I find myself wanting to grab hold of the Israelites and shake some sense into them. Why do you keep doing this? I want to cry. Why can't you learn from the past and stop screwing everything up? But of course the answer is obvious. Because they're human, and they're on much the same journey as the rest of us. Half the time we don't learn anything at all and the rest of the time, we learn enough to avoid the quicksand and walk straight into the bear pit. We're always going to make mistakes and I think that to some degree we have to accept that. Of course we should be trying to avoid as many pitfalls and wrong turnings as possible, but we also need to recognise that we won't escape them all. That way, when we do fall, we're already prepared to pick ourselves back up again, brush ourselves off, and put things right.

But the Israelites don't just fall, they take a running jump of a cliff. They know the rules but they break them anyway. Maybe they think God's rules are too boring or too restrictive. Maybe they think they can have more fun or live easier lives if they do things their own way. You see, there are the mistakes we make because we don't know any better, and then there are the mistakes we make because we think we know better but don't. You could put the former down to a lack of knowledge and the latter down to a lack of wisdom. I think it's important that we know what kind of mistakes we're making, so we can know how we can avoid them in the future. Do we need to learn the rules, or do we need to better understand why and how to apply them?

And another point. Having read it many times now, that phrase "in the sight of the Lord" strikes me as rather interesting. It tells us that it is God who judges the Israelites' behaviour, and that it is God's morality that is the measure here. That such a point should need to be made explicit suggests that there are other moralities, other measures of good and evil. To some extent that is true. We make our own rules and decide for ourselves what is good and evil, and in this postmodern world where truth is subjective, we think that is our responsibility and our right. Ultimately though, it is up to God to judge our behaviour and it is his moral standard that must guide us. If we're going to avoid the pitfalls and the traps, we'll need a map. We'll need God.

As a result of the Israelites' disobedience, God delivers them into the hands of the Philistines for forty years. After this time, the angel of the Lord appears to the wife of a man named Manoah. This woman is barren and childless, but the angel of the Lord tells her that she will conceive and give birth to a son. He instructs her not to drink alcohol or eat any unclean thing, and tells her that the boy's hair must not be cut because he will be a Nazarite, set apart for God to begin the deliverance of Israel. Maybe this woman has heard the stories of Sarah and Rachel, because she does not laugh or protest that this is impossible, but instead goes to tell her husband the good news. Manoah doesn't question this declaration either, but straightaway asks the Lord to send the man of God again to tell them how to raise their promised son. It is is easy to read that that Israelites did evil and think the whole nation has gone bad, but of course things are never that simple. Here we find at least two people who have not lost their way, who show that it possible to be good even in an evil place and an evil time, who challenge us and give us hope.

The angel of the Lord appears again to Manoah's wife, and she rushes to fetch her husband. Manoah asks what must be the rule for the boy's life and work, and the angel of the Lord simply says that his wife must do as she has been instructed. It feels a little like Manoah has tried to play the Alpha male and take control of the situation, only to be told that he must leave it to his wife. It must dent his pride somewhat, but he doesn't push it any further, instead offering his guest some food. The angel of the Lord says that he will not eat, but suggests that Manoah might prepare an offering to the Lord. It is only at this point in the conversation that Manoah asks his guest's name, so that he may honour him when his word is proved true, and it becomes apparent that he does not realise who it is he's speaking to. Presumably he has mistaken him for a prophet. The angel of the Lord says that his name is beyond understanding, and then when Manoah makes his burnt offering, he ascends in the flame. And at last Manoah and his wife understand. Manoah is terrified, thinking they will die because they have seen God, but his wife remains a little more level headed, reassuring him that God would not have accepted their offering or promised them a son if he intended to kill them. I discussed the identity of the angel of the Lord in an earlier post, and it is interesting to add that here Manoah clearly identifies the figure he has seen with God himself, adding weight to the supposition that the angel of the Lord is in some sense a manifestation or presence of the Lord.

So, Manoah and his wife are not struck down, and the words of the angel of the Lord are proved true when Manoah's wife gives birth to a boy who they name Samson. We are told that God blesses the child and the Spirit of God moves in him, but we learn nothing more of him until he is a grown man of marrying age. One day Samson sees a young Philistine woman and declares that he wishes to marry her. His parents are dubious as she is a foreigner, but Samson insists and we are here told that his passion was from the Lord, who was looking for an excuse to confront the Philistines. His parents relent and he returns to the town where he saw this young woman in order to speak with her. On the way, a lion attacks him and tears the lion apart with his bare hands. When he returns again, he sees a swarm of bees and some honey in the lion's carcass and takes some to eat. It's an odd little episode, but it will make sense later. Sort of.

The time for Samson's wedding comes and he makes a feast and is given thirty companions from his wife's town. He says to these men that if they can solve a riddle within seven days of the feast, he will give them thirty linen garments and thirty sets of clothes. However, if they fail, they must give him the same. The riddle is Out of the eater, something to eat; out of the strong, something to eat. Things starting to fall into place now? Of course the companions don't get it, and after three days of trying to puzzle it out, they give in and resort to some good old fashioned arm twisting. They go to Samson's wife and tell her that if she does not get the answer out of her husband, they will burn her and her father's household to death. She throws herself on Samson, sobbing and complaining that he can't love her if he hasn't told her the answer. He says he hasn't told his parents, so there's no reason he should tell her, but after three days of her crying, he gives in and tells her the answer. She then tells the men of the town, who go to Samson with the answer. He knows where they've got the answer from and is absolutely furious. The Spirit of the Lord comes upon him and he keeps his word by killing thirty men and giving their clothes to the thirty companions, then returns to his father's house. And so the deliverance of Israel begins in deceit and manipulation and anger and violence. There must be another way.

But this is the way things have begun, and this is the way they will continue. Once Samson has calmed down, he goes to visit his wife, only to learn that her father has given her to someone else because he thought that Samson hated her. The father offers Samson his younger daughter (this whole idea of women being treated like commodities still makes me sick) but he clearly isn't happy with this proposal because he declares that this time he will really hurt the Philistines. He catches three hundred foxes, ties them in pairs by their tails, then ties burning torches to their tails (thus raising a rather serious animal cruelty issue) and lets them loose in the cornfields. When the Philistines see that their crop has been destroyed, and learn that it happened because Samson's wife was given away, the Philistine's burn his wife and her father to death. The vicious circle continues, as Samson responds with even greater fury, slaughtering many of them. After this, he hides in a cave until three thousand men of Judah come to hand him over to the Philistines, in order to prevent any reprisals against themselves. They tie Samson up, but as they approach the Philistines, the Spirit of the Lord comes up on him and he breaks his binds. He grabs the jawbone of a donkey and kills a thousand men with it. He's like a Biblical superhero After such exertion, he is naturally rather thirsty, and so he cries out to God who opens a spring for him so that he may drink. It's not really all that surprising that after this, the Israelites make Samson their leader. He rules for twenty years, but these are still the days of the Philistines, and so it seems that he while he may have begun the deliverance of Israel, the people are not free yet. Perhaps muscle isn't everything.

Like every superhero, Samson has a fatal weakness. Women. First his marriage causes great death and devastation, then he is almost killed while visiting a prostitute, and then finally there is Delilah. Samson falls in love with Delilah, and the Philistines spy an opportunity. They bribe her into agreeing to discover the secret of Samson's strength and learn how to overpower him, and so she sets to work. She asks him how he may be tied up, and he tells her that if he is tied with seven fresh thongs, he will become as weak as any other man. And so she hides men in the house and ties him with seven fresh thongs, but when she calls to say that the Philistines are upon him, he snaps the thongs and Delilah realises that he has fooled her. She decides to try again, and this time he tells her that if he can be overpowered if he is tied with new ropes that have never been used, but again this is proved false. And then he tells her that he will be weakened if his hair is woven into the loom, and yet again this is shown to be a lie. And so Delilah resorts to the ultimate weapon, the power of the nag. She finally wears him down and he tells her the truth, that his strength wold leave him if his head was shaved. And so that night she puts him to sleep and calls a man to cut his hair. When he wakes, the Philistines seize him, bind him and gouge out his eyes.

Surely Samson must have realised that it was Delilah that kept tying him up. And surely he must have worked out that she was trying to overpower him. So why on earth did he tell her the truth? All brawn and no brains, it seems. It is interesting that it is said not that his strength left him, but that the Lord left him. It's a reminder that Samson's strength was not his own but the Lord's. It's also a reminder of the consequences of treating the gifts God gives us lightly. Samson was told not to cut his hair but he disobeyed, and it was his disobedience that cost him his strength. When God blesses us, we have a duty to take care of those gifts and to be honouring and obedient to God in the way we use them, or we risk losing them.

The Philistines put Samson in prison and gather to offer a sacrifice to their god in celebration. They bring Samson out to entertain them, and in what must have been the ultimate act of humiliation, he performs for them. They place him among the pillars and he asks to stand close enough to lean on them. His hair has been growing back ever since it was cut off, and now Samson prays that God will remember him and grant him strength one more time in order to get revenge on the Philistines for his eyes. He braces himself against the two central pillars, with one hand on each, then pushes with all his might. The temple falls down on the rulers and the many people gathered there, and so Samson dies with his enemies and kills more in the process than he did when he lived. And thus ends the story of Samson, a cautionary tale about the dangers of taking our gifts for granted and valuing strength above all else.

Judges 9-12 - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Gideon had a grand total of seventy sons by his many wives, so I suppose it was inevitable that there'd be at least one bad apple, but it's still a bit of a shock to discover just how bad that apple was. Abimelech seizes upon his father's death as an opportunity to make a grab for the power Gideon had earlier rejected. He asks the men of Shechem if it would be better for them to be ruled by one man or by all seventy sons, pointedly reminding them that he is their flesh and blood. Presumably Abimelech's mother was herself a citizen of Shechem, giving Abimelech an advantage his half-brothers do not possess. This advantage tips the argument in Abimelech's favour, and the men of Schechem declare that he is their brother and give him seventy shekels of silver. Abimelech uses this money to hire mercenaries, colourfully described here as "reckless adventurers", then goes to his father's home and murders all of his brothers, with the exception of Jotham who manages to escape.

The citizens of Shechem gather to crown Abimelech king, but in true dramatic fashion, the ceremony doesn't go off without a hitch. Jotham finds out what's going on and climbs to the top of a mountain to shout down at the assembled coronation party. He says that one day the trees set out to crown a king. They approached the olive tree, the fig tree and the vine, but they all rejected the offer, saying that they had good things to give which they did not want to sacrifice in order to rule. The trees then approached the thorn bush, who said that if they really wanted him to rule then they should take refuge in his shade, but if not then fire would consume them. Jotham elaborates on this rather unusual extended metaphor by saying that if the people have acted honourably then let them have joy, but if not then let fire consume both them and Abimelech. It is worth noting that Jotham makes it quite clear that they have not acted honourably, and so this is essentially a curse.

I think it's more than that though, as it contains some interesting points about leadership. Firstly, leadership requires sacrifice. The olive, the fig and the vine all recognise that they cannot lead without giving up what they already did. Secondly, power is not the be all and end all. Again, the trees all recognise that they already have good things to offer, and they choose them over power. Finally, choosing the right leader for the right reason matters. The thorn bush warns that if the trees' motives are wrong then disaster will come upon them. I think those three lessons are hugely important. Unless leaders are willing to make sacrifices, they will compromise themselves or their position. If power is the ultimate goal and an end in itself, genuine ability and passion may give way to ruthless ambition. And if we do not take great care when it comes to who we choose to lead us, we must accept responsibility for the consequences. I won't go too political as this isn't the place, but I will say that I believe the results of failing to heed those lessons are clear, and so we have a duty to learn them.

Sadly, the Shechemites do not learn them, but it is a little while before things go wrong. After three years, God sends an evil spirit between Abimelech and the Shechemites, so that the people turn against their king. They ambush and rob passers by against his orders, and they are courted by a newcomer called Gaal. Gaal calls for rebellion but the governor remains loyal to the king and secretly warns him of the unrest. Abimelech sends his army against Shechem and the governor goads Gaal into meeting them in battle. Things don't go well for Gaal, and he is driven out of the city while many are wounded. Abimelech resumes the assault the next day, finally destroying the city and killing its people. A few survive and take refuge in the temple, so Abimelech torches the place, killing those inside. The victory seems to go to his head and he marches off to try his luck at Thebez. He captures the city and besieges the tower to which the inhabitants have fled, but as he approaches to the tower to set it on fire, a woman drops a millstone on his head and cracks his skull. Abimelech doesn't want his legacy to be that he was killed by a woman, so he calls on his armour-bearer to draw his sword and kill him, which he does. Jotham's curse has been fulfilled, as fire has lead to the deaths of Abimelech and the men of Shechem. The consequences of our actions may not be immediate, but they will surely come nonetheless. The only way to avoid them is to put things right.

After the death of Abimelech, a man named Tola rises to save Israel, and he leads the nation for twenty three years. On his death, he is followed by a man named Jair, who rules for twenty two years. We know very little about these men - the most interesting thing we are told is that Jair had thirty sons who rode thirty donkeys and controlled thirty towns - and so we can only presume that they were decent men who brought peace and stability. It's a shame that these uneventful reigns are skipped over so quickly, as though it is only sin and death that holds any interest. While there is little to say about these leaders, it may be worth noting at this point that not since Deborah has the title of judge been used. I'm not sure if this is deliberate, but it does give the impression that there is something fundamentally wrong with the governance of Israel, as it appears to have deviated from the original system of judges.

After the death of Jair, the Israelites again do evil in the eyes of the Lord. They worship the gods of other nations, and so God becomes angry with them and hands them over to the Philistines. This time the Israelites do not wait but instead cry out to God, who tells them to go and cry out to the gods they have chosen. At this point, the Israelites realise they've screwed up and so they get rid of their idols and turn back to God. It seems this repentance is enough, and the tide has turned, as we are told that God can bear Israel's misery no longer. The Ammonites are called to arms and the Israelites assemble, but they are still leaderless. And so enter Jephthah, a mighty warrior and the son of a prostitute who has been forced out by his legitimate brothers. While he has been away, he has gathered a group of adventurers and presumably got himself something of a reputation, and so now his brothers call him back to be their commander and the head over all who live in Gilead.

Given that Jephthah has been introduced as a mighty warrior, you would be forgiven for expecting him to walk straight into battle, but he doesn't. Instead he sends word to the king of the Ammonites and attempts to negotiate. The king says that Israel took his land, so Jephthah calmly and patiently explains that they did not take land from the Ammonites, that the Ammonites have no claim to the land Israel has taken from other nations and that Israel will keep the land God has given to them. He says that he has not wronged the king, but the king is wronging him. This clearly isn't the reply the king was after, so he takes absolutely no notice. The Spirit of the Lord then comes upon Jephthah and he reverts from diplomat back to warrior mode. As he marches into battle he makes a promise to the Lord, saying that if God grants him the victory, he will sacrifice whatever comes out of his house to meet him when he returns home. God does give the Israelites the victory, but because of that promise, the consequences for Jephthah are disastrous.

When Jephthah returns home, it is his young daughter who rushes out of his house, celebrating her father's great victory. When he sees her he weeps and tears his clothes, knowing that he has made a vow he cannot break, and that now he must sacrifice his only child. His daughter tells him to do to her what he promised the Lord, asking only that he allows her two months to roam the hills and weep with her friends. He gives her this time, and then when she returns, he sacrifices her as he promised he would. I really don't know how to feel about this story. It is difficult not to feel some grudging admiration for Jephthah's commitment to his promise, even as it breaks his heart, and I can't help but be moved by the grace with which his daughter responds, making things as easy for her father as possible. And yet I cannot understand why neither of them plead to God for pardon, or why God does not grant a pardon of his own will. Why should a young girl have to die because her father made a rash promise in a moment of great stress? Why is it that God saved Isaac but not Jephthah's daughter, who is treated as being of such little consequence that she is not even named? Why could God not accept Jephthah's willingness to sacrifice his daughter as honouring the promise, as he did with Abraham?

Even this devastating sacrifice is not the end of Jephthah's troubles. The Ephraimites complain that he did not call on them to fight and threaten to burn his house down over his head. Jephthah protests that he did call on them but they did not respond. This clearly doesn't help matters as things appear to descend into petty sectarianism. The Ephraimites accuse the Gileadites of being renegades from Ephraim and Manasseh, and so Jephthah leads the Gileadites against them. The men of Gilead capture the fords and after that, whenever an Ephraimite survivor attempts to cross, the Gileadites test him by asking him to say 'Shibboleth'. If he says 'Sibboleth', they know that he is an Ephraimite and kill him. I've heard of something similar happening in Ireland, where a person's allegiance could be determined by the way they pronounced the letter 'h' when asked to recite the alphabet. Things don't change much, do they?

Jephthah is followed by Ibzan, who gave his daughters away in marriage to men outside the clan and brought in foreign wives for his sons, and who ruled for seven years. Ibzan is followed by Elon the Zebulunite, about who we are told only that he ruled for ten years and was buried in Aijalon. And Elon is followed by Abdon, who had thirty sons and forty grandsons who rode on seventy donkeys, and who ruled for eight years. And so another twenty five years pass without comment, bringing us to the end of this section of our jaunt through Judges. In just four chapters we have encountered the good, the bad, the ugly and the wholly unremarkable. I think that's enough to be getting on with.

Judges 6-8 - Gideon

After the victory won by Deborah and Jael, Israel enjoys forty years of peace. And then the inevitable happens. The Israelites again do evil in the sight of the Lord and this time as a result they are oppressed by the Midianites for seven years. We are only on book seven of the Bible but already it seems that a pattern is beginning to merge - not only the pattern of sin-punishment-salvation ad nauseum, but also the recurrence of these two particular numbers. That so many periods of time last either seven or forty years may look like either a very strange coincidence or a fix, but there is perhaps a reasonable explanation. The available evidence suggests that the Hebrew Scriptures that make up the Old Testament were written several centuries after the events they purport to describe, so it is likely that these figures were used as a kind of shorthand to expand a slightly shaky chronology and mark major events. It's enough to make a modern historian weep, but it is clear from other contemporary Near Eastern texts that chronology was not such an issue in ancient historiography. It didn't matter to the people writing or reading Judges that the dates weren't quite accurate, and so it needn't matter all that much to us either. What matters is the sequence of events and the fact that these significant numbers denote significant periods.

That the Midianite oppression lasts seven years certainly does seem significant as it suggests that the Israelites have actually learnt something. Seven years is still a long time for them to wait before crying out for help, but it is nevertheless an improvement on twenty. God responds by sending a prophet, who reminds them of all that he has done for them and their failure to keep up their end of the deal. In other words, God has done everything he can and they have no one to blame but themselves. How often does he want to say the same to us? We are blessed with so much yet we still spoil things and get things so horribly wrong. We ignore the good God does for us and then blame him for the bad we bring upon ourselves.

Fortunately for the Israelites - and indeed for all of us - God never washes his hands of us, never says that we made the mess so we have to clean it up. After speaking through his unnamed prophet, God goes one better and sends the angel of the Lord to a man named Gideon. There is much debate over who this figure actually is, and the confusion is not helped by the fact that 'Lord' and 'angel of the Lord' at times seem to be used interchangeably. Some say that he is simply an angel, although the use of the definite article would suggest that he's not just any angel, and so others speak of him as an angel representing or bearing the name of God. Some say that that he is God himself, but this would contradict other passages that say that no one may look on the face of God and live, and so others say that he is rather the physical incarnation of God, which according to some theologies would essentially make him the second part of the Trinity, later known as Christ. Whatever the case, the appearance of the angel of the Lord is often spoken of as a theophany or an appearance of God, and it can at least be said that Gideon here encounters God in a very special way, as at moments during his conversation with the angel of the Lord, he speaks directly to the Lord himself. Just stop and think about that for a moment. Gideon talks to God as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Which of course it is. An awesome privilege and yet a freely given gift. It blows my mind!

The angel of the Lord tells Gideon that the Lord is with him, and Gideon asks the questions that must have been on every Israelite's lips. "If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?" It's the big one, isn't it? The question we all want to know the answer to. Why does God let bad stuff happen? Where is he when it hurts? Gideon comes straight out and asks it, and it seems likely maybe this is where we'll finally find the answer, but it's not to be. Gideon doesn't get the answer he was looking for and neither do we. Maybe the answer is just too big, too far beyond our understanding. Maybe there is no easy answer.

But that doesn't mean there is no answer. Gideon has been talking to the angel of the Lord, but now the Lord himself turns to him and says, "Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian's hand. Am I not sending you?" You see, this is God's answer. I know bad stuff has happened to you but it doesn't matter why. What matters is that I'm going to help you fix it. It's the Israelites that have made the mess and so it is an Israelite who will have to clear it up, but God is sending him and that means that God is with him. He's going to help put this right. Isn't this God's answer to us too? Whatever has gone wrong, however we've been hurt, he is there to pick up the pieces. We waste so much of our energy shouting at God and demanding answers, when we could be crying out to him and asking for help. We may never get the answers, but we will always get the help.

Up until this point, Gideon appears to have been taking this conversation in his stride, but now it all seems to get a little too much and he needs some reassurances. First, he questions his ability to save Israel, pointing out that he is the runt of the weakest clan in his tribe. The Lord replies that he will be with him and that he will strike down all the Midianites, and this seems to be enough for Gideon as he doesn't push the point further. He believes that he can do what God says if God is with him, but now he doesn't seem quite sure that God really is with him. He needs proof before he can accept the evidence of his own senses, and so he runs to fetch a sacrifice while the Lord patiently waits for him. When Gideon returns, the angel of the Lord consumes the sacrifice with fire then disappears, and Gideon finally accepts that he has seen the angel of the Lord face to face.

Now that there is no arguing with it, Gideon must get to work. God tells him to tear down his father's altar to Baal and cut down the Asherah pole, then build a proper altar and use the wood of the Asherah pole to make a sacrifice. Gideon does as he's told, but rather sheepishly does it in the middle of the night so that no one will know. It doesn't help though, because when the new altar is discovered, it doesn't take long for the men of the town to work out that it was him that did it. The men are ready to lynch Gideon, but his father steps in and points out that if Baal really is a god then he will deal with him. Baal clearly doesn't deal with him, but the implications of this go unnoticed as the Midianites, the Amalekites and other eastern peoples cross the Jordan, presumably bringing them closer to Israel. The Spirit of God comes upon Gideon and he summons the Israelites to arms.

It's a brave thing to do, putting yourself forward as military leader, but Gideon is still a little nervous. Before he goes into battle, he wants one last assurance. He tells God that he will place a fleece on the threshing-floor, and that if the fleece is wet with dew and the ground is dry, he will know that God will save Israel by his hand. Of course the next morning, the fleece is wet and the ground is dry, but Gideon still isn't happy. He asks God not to be angry with him but to allow him on more test. He will leave another fleece on the threshing-floor, and this time if the fleece is dry but the ground is wet, he will know for sure. It is no surprise that the next morning, the fleece is dry and the ground is wet, and this time it seems that Gideon is finally satisfied. I love how patient and gentle God is though all of this. There's a real parental quality to his actions as he eases Gideon's anxieties.

When Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness, he quoted the Scripture that says "you shall not test the Lord your God", so it is perhaps surprising that Gideon gets away with so much. However, I have an inkling that this may be because Gideon is not really testing God. He trusts that if God has spoken then it will be so, he just wants to make sure that it really is God who has spoken. He wants to test his calling to make sure he is doing the right thing, and God honours that. In the same way, if we think God is calling us or convicting us, it's okay to ask for assurances if we do so out of a desire to get things right. But once we have had that assurance, we must be prepared to do something about it.

It seems Gideon is finally ready, because the next morning he takes his men and sets up camp south of the Midianites. However, this time God's not quite ready. He declares that Gideon has too many men, that if people are to know that it is he who has delivered Israel, he must do so with a smaller force. Sending most of your army home may not sound like the greatest battle plan, but Gideon faithfully goes and tells all those men who are afraid that they may leave. Twenty two thousand scarper, leaving ten thousand behind. It's quite a cull, but apparently this is still too many. Gideon goes back to the men and takes them drink, separating those who lap the water like dogs from those who kneel to drink. Three hundred men lap the water, and God declares that with these men he shall defeat the Midianites. I don't know how many Midianites there are, but if Gideon started off by thinking he needed thirty two thousand men, I'm thinking there are probably a fair few. If three hundred Spartans couldn't take the Persian army, three hundred Israelites don't seem to stand much chance against the Midianites. If they win, there will be no question that it is by God's strength.

It's probably not too much of a spoiler to say that they do win. And don't they do it in style?! First though, God sees that Gideon is feeling a little anxious, so he sends him into the Midianite camp to do some eavesdropping and calm his nerves. While he is there, he overhears a man relaying a dream he's had, in which a loaf of bread rolls into the camp and and knocks a tent down. The man's friend declares that this must mean that God has handed the Midianites over to the Israelites, and so Gideon returns to the camp full of confidence, buoyed by the fact that even the Midianites know they're done for. It's another beautiful touch from God, giving Gideon an assurance he didn't even ask for.

The men must think it's gone to his head and sent him a little crazy, because instead of weapons, he arms them with trumpets and jars containing torches. It's of great credit to them that they accept these gifts and follow him to the edge of the Midianite camp. In the depths of the night, when the guard has just changed and the Midianite camp is unsettled, Gideon and his men smash their jars and blow their trumpets and send the camp into total disarray. The Midianites totally freak out and turn on each other or flee. Those who aren't killed by their fellow soldiers are chased down by the men who had stayed behind, and so the Midianite army is destroyed and the Jordan reclaimed. If only the Spartans had thought of using trumpets. We could have had 300: The Musical. Or maybe not. The point is, God may not always do things by the most obvious means, but isn't that part of the adventure? Even when he sends us on what appears to be a fool's errand or an impossible task, we can trust that he knows what he's doing.

The Ephraimites complain that they weren't part of the initial offensive, but Gideon manages to pacify them by pointing out that hey have killed the Midianite leaders and so done more than he has. This quibbling about who's done what is all rather petty, but sadly it is all too often a feature of church politics. It doesn't matter what we have done as individuals so long as we have done all that has been asked of us. It's a team game, not a competition. Having settled this, Gideon and his continue to chase down the Midianite kings, Zebah and Zalmunna. They are tired and hungry by this point, and so twice they stop to ask for bread, but the officials they approach rather churlishly accuse them of having already captured the kings and so refuse to give them any bread. It's nonsensical, but it seems they're happy to support the campaign but not to reward it. Gideon is understandably irritated by this and threatens them with punishment before continuing the chase.

Finally he catches the kings and punishes the disbelievers, and then things get personal. He learns that they have killed his brothers, and so he declares that though he would have spared their lives, now they must die. He instructs his eldest son to kill them, but he is only a boy and he is afraid and so he won't draw his sword. It's a really horrible moment that recalls children being pressured and forced into fighting in places like Sierra Leone and Uganda, and it makes me shudder to think of it. I find any kind of violence utterly objectionable, but there is something especially repulsive about acts of violence committed by young children, especially when they are committed in response to acts or threats of violence against them. There should be no need for soldiers, but there is certainly never any justification for child soldiers. As War Child say, some words don't belong together. Thankfully on this occasion the boy is spared, as Gideon does not press him and instead kills the kings himself.

The Midianites are now utterly defeated and the Israelites ask Gideon to lead them because he has saved them. They've really missed the point, haven't they? Fortunately Gideon has not, and he refuses to lead them because he says the Lord will lead them. After all, it was the Lord that saved them. He does however ask that they give him one earring each. They happily oblige and he melts the gold down to make an ephod. According to the law books, an ephod was a linen garment worn by the high priest, but given that this one was solid gold and Gideon was not a priest, the word must have had another meaning we do not know about. What this object was may not be clear, but sadly the problems it caused are, as we are told that Israel prostituted herself by worshipping it and it became a snare to Gideon's family (although I should point out here that nowhere does it say that Gideon himself worshipped this object, which he presumably made to honour God). What a shame it is that after everything God has done, it should come to this. We can be so obtuse at times and it must break God's heart. We need to be aware of what God has done for us and we need to respond to that by worshipping him, not the gold of what we our own success.

Things only get worse as Israel slips further down the proverbial slope. There is peace while Gideon is alive, but no sooner has he died than the the Israelites again prostitute themselves to the Baals, forgetting about God and failing to show kindness to Gideon's family. They've really stuffed up this time. Things can go wrong so quickly and this is why we need to be so careful. This is why we need to hold fast to God and this is why we need an active Gideonite faith that asks the right questions and then acts on the answers.

This part of our story ends on something of a wrong note, which is a shame because there has been much that is good. I only hope the sour aftertaste does not diminish the earlier sweetness.

Judges 4-5 - Deborah

And so I finally return to Judges, in the hope that I will finally get back into the swing of things.

Having been relegated to a footnote at the end of chapter three, Shamgar is now dismissed altogether, as chapter four suggests that Ehud's successor was in fact Deborah. It's another of those little inconsistencies that can pick holes in the fabric of the Bible and leave it looking a little tattered. Or maybe that's the wrong way of looking at it. Maybe it's simply a dropped stitch or a gap between threads. The Bible is more like a tapestry or a family patchwork than a piece of fine silk and so the holes needn't be such a problem.

The Bible is a vast book which was written and revised by many different people, each with their own motives and understandings and perspectives, and so it's only natural that there will be imperfections. But this doesn't mean that it isn't worth reading, only that we must read it with caution and common sense and faith. I know I've touched on this area quite a few times, but I think it's really important, and it's perhaps the thing that's struck me most as I've really begun to study the Bible. It is a starting point and a wonderful source of knowledge, but it is not the be all and end all of my faith and neither is it the last word, and so there is room for error and contradiction. My faith is big enough and strong enough to take it.

But back to the story. After the death of Ehud, the people fall into sin again and are oppressed by the Canaanites for twenty years. Twenty years of hardship before they finally cry out to God for help. What were they doing all that time? Complaining? Trying to fix things by themselves? Pretending everything was okay? I should imagine the answer is all of the above. It's a sad state of affairs, but it's perhaps not all that surprising. So often we run through all the other possibilities and turn to God only as a last resort. Maybe we're too proud or too stubborn to ask for help, or maybe we think God won't be interested, or maybe we just don't think to ask. Whatever it is that's stopping us, we need to be aware of it and we need to overcome it. We need to learn to turn to God first. He's waiting so we don't have to.

At the time that the Israelites do finally turn to God and are delivered by him, the nation is led by Deborah, a prophetess notable for being the only female judge in the history of Israel. I wish there was no need to call a woman notable simply for being female - when we succeed, we deserve to be recognised for our brilliance and our intelligence and our achievement, not just our gender - but the fact that Deborah was a woman is worth mentioning for a number of reasons. Firstly, the historical and widespread disenfranchisement of women means that Deborah's political leadership is of great interest in terms of women's history. In all places and at all times, women have and will overcome. Secondly, Deborah's husband is named as Lappidoth, so it seems that she was not only a prophetess and a judge but also a wife and presumably a mother, and so it seems that taking on a traditionally masculine role did not rob her of or lessen her femininity. She did not become an honorary man or a perpetual virgin, as many have done in order to prove their worth, as though their womanliness were a crime or a disgrace, but instead showed that a woman may succeed as a woman. In my mind, that makes her something of a feminist icon.

Finally, it is interesting that in all of this the question of gender is only raised once, when Barak requests that she go with him into battle and Deborah says that because of that, the victory will be given to a woman. In an androcentric culture where being bested by a woman can cost serious man points, this may appear to be a slight against Barak. However, this is not made explicit and I don't think it was necessarily the intention. AS is proved later, Deborah's words were a prophecy, not a taunt. There is plenty of misogyny to be found elsewhere in the Old Testament, but there is nothing here to suggest that a woman was considered inherently inferior. The people clearly respected Deborah as they approached her for judgement, and Barak obeyed her call and refused to go into battle without her. It seems that for the most part Deborah was treated like any of her male counterparts and judged on her own merits. No restrictions, no allowance, no lowered expectations. This is how it should be.

So, Deborah goes with Barak into battle and victory is indeed given to a woman, as Jael kills the commander of the Canaanite commander, a man named Sisera, by offering him hospitality then driving a tent peg through his head while he sleeps. In some ways it matters very little that Jael was a woman, the more salient point being that the victory went to someone other than Barak because of his weakness. However, there is still something to be said about this woman warrior. Just like Deborah and the apocryphal Judith, Jael appropriates a typically masculine role, this time that of assassin. And just like her sisters, she does so without losing any of her femininity, as it is her skill as a hostess that leaves Sisera vulnerable. It would be easy to dismiss or criticise her for using her "womanly wiles" - I freely admit that I am normally the first to complain about manipulative women who play the girl card and pretend to be weak and stupid in order to flatter men and get their own way - but I don't think that's what's happening here. Jael simply takes advantage of a situation, using the skills and power at her disposal and demonstrating that she need not become or behave like a man in order to succeed. This is a woman who knows what she can do and goes ahead and does it, a woman who transcends traditional roles and acts simply as herself. I think us girls could learn a lot from her.

With the commander of the Canaanite army dead, the Israelite army have the advantage and take the victory. Like Moses and Miriam before them, Deborah and Barak celebrate with a song. I've written before about how wonderful it is when a person's gut reaction to the work of God is praise, and how vital it is that we become so accustomed to praise that it becomes our gut reaction too, and I would say much the same here but something more struck me this time. Deborah and Barak do not respond with a quick thanks or a whoop of joy, and this is no cursory expression of gratitude or dry formality. This is a song. They take the time to consider all God has done and put it into words so that he may be glorified and everyone may know. Their praise is thoughtful and it is heartfelt and it is joyful. May all of our thanks be like that.

For the most part, the song tells the story of Israel's victory in dramatic and poetic language, but there is one small detail which is both surprising in its homeliness and fascinating in its implication. Towards the end of the song, the singers imagine Sisera's mother waiting for her son to return and being comforted by her ladies, in a domestic scene which seems strikingly at odds with the drama that precedes it. Such consideration for the effects of war on those who must grieve reminds us that however much of the Bible may be exaggerated or invented or mistaken, it contains real human experience and emotion. More than that, the continued emphasis Deborah places on women speaks to me of the importance of female ministry and leadership. It is unlikely that she actually wrote this song, but at face value at least it is a woman's voice that remembers and gives voice to other women, and I think that is significant. I believe that female leaders and ministers have much to say to and about all people, but I also believe that they have something special to say to and about other women, and so their voice is not only valuable but vital if women are not to be forgotten or neglected. It is only when women can speak and are spoken to that they can be empowered and became all that they are and can be. We need more Deborahs if we want more Jaels.