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.
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