Monday, 18 June 2012

1 Samuel 1-3 The Early Years

The story begins with a man called Elkanah, who has two wives called Peninnah and Hannah.  Peninnah has children but Hannah has none, and yet it is Hannah who Elkanah loves most and favours with a double portion at the time of the sacrifice, and this causes great tension and jealousy between the two women.  Peninnah provokes Hannah until she weeps and refuses to eat, and so Elkanah seeks to comfort his beloved wife by asking if he does not mean more to her than ten sons, but she is not consoled and so it seems that he does not.  This is a deeply unhappy family, but their troubles are partly of their own making.  Of course Peninnah cannot help her fertility any more than Hannah can help her childlessness, but they can both help the way they respond to their situation and to each other; and Elkanah cannot help Hanna's sadness or Peninnah's malice, but he could help having more than one wife in the first place.

Hannah finally seems to realise that even if she cannot change her circumstances she can change her response, and so she prays that God will look on her misery and give her a son.  Like we so often do when we are desperate, she tries to bargain with God, saying that if he will give her a son then she will dedicate the boy to him.  I think it's interesting that she does not ask for sons plural, the first of whom she will give back to God, but for a son singular.  Perhaps she is only seeking to be modest in her request, but if she gives her only child back to God she will still be effectively childless, and so it's almost as if she wants a son because she feels she should have one, not because she yearns to be a mother.  Perhaps she felt she had failed her husband by not giving him a son, or perhaps in a culture where she could only be a wife and mother she felt she must be both in order for her life to mean anything, or perhaps she just couldn't take any more of Peninnah's taunting, but none of these are reasons to have a child.  It is entirely possible that I have misunderstood Hannah's prayer, but I can't help finding it a little distasteful.  A child is to be loved and nurtured, not used as a weapon or a status symbol; and my mum brought me up to believe that motherhood is a privilege, not a right.

The priest Eli sees Hannah praying in the temple, and she is obviously praying with great fervour because he initially thinks she's drunk.  When we express ourselves openly and honestly we may risk making fools or spectacles of ourselves, but it is usually a risk worth taking.  The risk certainly pays off for Hannah, as Eli blesses her and she soon has a son, who she names Samuel.  She tells her husband that she will take Samuel to the temple when he has been weaned, and he simply tells her to "do what seems best".  He has to respect her oath because the law and his faith demand it, but his detachment suggests to me that he is not entirely happy about the fact that she has given away the son they have waited so long for.  I think Hannah was incredibly selfish to make a pact with God without talking to Elkanah, not because she needed his permission but because it was a decision they should have made together.  I think we can be so caught up in the idea of the maternal instinct that we forget how important the father is.

Once Samuel has been weaned, Hannah takes him to Eli, who accepts him into the temple.  Hannah then prays again, but this time she prays with joy and worship, not in anguish and grief.  She revels in the might of the Lord but warns against human pride and speaks of a reversal of fortune, possibly a dig at her rival Pinennah, suggesting that her prayer is not perhaps as holy as it may seem.  She speaks of the Lord as all powerful and in control, and declares that "it is not by strength that one prevails", recognising that it is not by her own power but by God's that her prayers have been answered.  And she prophesies judgement on those who oppose the Lord and the coming of a king, setting up the events that are to come.

The story gets a bit jumbled here so I'll try to take each sequence of events separately to make it a little clearer.  Elkanah and Hannah visit Samuel once a year when they visit the temple to make the sacrifice, and I can only imagine how strange it must have been for him to know these people were his parents and yet not know them at all, and how sad it must have been for Elkanah and Hannah to miss so much of their son's life.  Eli blesses the couple and Hannah has three more sons and two daughters, so that she does at last become a mother, although it is interesting that is not her but Eli who prays for these children.

Samuel grows in stature and favour in the eyes of God and men, but Eli's sons prove themselves to be wicked men, abusing their priestly privileges and showing no respect for the god who so honoured them.  Eli hears of his sons' sin and rebukes them, but they do not listen and he appears to do no more, so that their wickedness continues.  A man of God prophesies against the house of Eli, saying that because they have not respected all that God has done for them, they and their ancestors will all die young, and Eli's sons will die on the same day. He also says that God will no longer keep his promise that they would minister forever, but instead he will raise up a faithful priest.  I'm not sure how things develop from here, but it seems that this is where the priesthood first becomes a profession based on merit rather than a duty inherited by birth.  I also think it's interesting that we see God change his mind, and not for the first time.  Divine simplicity has whitewashed God's character, but the God of the Old Testament was as complicated and as changeable as your or I.  Where else do you think we got it from?

We are told now that one night the boy Samuel is lying by the Ark of the Covenant when he hears a voice calling him.  He goes to Eli but Eli says he did not call him, and so Samuel goes back to his place and lies down again.  You may have guessed by now who is calling Samuel, but this happens three times before anyone in the story figures it out.  Samuel may be excused as he is young, and we are told that even though he serves in the temple he does not know the Lord yet, a reminder that we may know of God but we must experience him before we can truly know him.  We might have expected better from Eli, but we have already been told that visions were rare in these days and he has perhaps been deadened by habit and forgotten his Lord's voice, a warning to us not to do the same.  When the priest does finally work out what is happening, he tells Samuel to answer the Lord if he calls again, which of course he does.

God tells Samuel that he will do something that will "make the ears of everyone who hears it tingle", which I think it an amazing phrase.  More specifically, he says that he will do what he has already said he will do to the house of Eli. Samuel is understandably reluctant to pass on the message but Eli tells him not to hide anything, and so Samuel speaks the word of God for the first time.  Eli may have his faults, but now he is humble enough to recognise the power and justice of God, and simply says "he is the Lord; let him do what is good in his eyes".  It is the simplest and yet most difficult prayer, because it requires us to acknowledge the sovereignty of God, trust in his wisdom, and hope for his grace; and while he deserves all of those things, we are often reluctant to give them.  From then on, God is with Samuel and reveals himself to him, so that Samuel is recognised as a prophet and his word comes to all of Israel.

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Ruth 4 - Boaz marries Ruth

I apologise if the blog title gives away the ending, but if you don't already know the story then you must at least be able to see where it's heading!

Naomi is right to say that Boaz will not rest until the matter is settled, as at that moment he is making his way to the town gate.  I don't know if the gate was where official matters were conducted or if it was simply the best place to find people, but Boaz waits there until the kinsman-redeemer he has mentioned comes along.  He calls him to sit down then gathers ten of the elders of the town and tells them to sit too.  It seems that this was not a day for official business or Boaz could simply have approached the elders where they met, and the fact that he was able to convene an impromptu court in this way suggests that he was a man of some standing.

Boaz tells the kinsman-redeemer that Naomi is selling a piece of land that belonged to her husband and that he wishes to bring it to his attention and suggest that he redeems it as is his right.  He also makes his own interest in the matter clear, asking that the kinsmen tell him if he does not wish to redeem it as he is next in line. The kinsman-redeemer jumps at the chance to increase his property and wealth and immediately says that he will redeem it, making our ending seem a little uncertain.

Boaz then points out to the man that when he buys the land from Naomi he will also acquire Ruth, in order to maintain the name of the dead with his property.  This gives the kinsman-redeemer pause and he declares that he cannot redeem the land as he does not want to endanger his estate.  It's not clear how marrying Ruth would do that, but perhaps he is already married and does not want to cause strife in his household, or perhaps he fears that she will give him many children who will bear her husband's name but still demand a share of his wealth, or maybe he simply thinks that marrying a poor foreigner will harm his standing.  Whatever the case, he tells Boaz to redeem the land instead and takes of his sandal to legalise the transaction.

This scene is interesting for a number of reasons.  First of all, Boaz makes the matter about the sale of a piece of land, with Ruth as part of the package, which seems a little strange.  The previous chapter had led us to believe that it was Ruth who was to be redeemed, and there has been no mention of any land before, but Boaz has thus far shown himself to be a man of quality and so me must trust that he is acting honourably here.  It may be that Ruth did not have to be redeemed without the land as while she had the land she was not destitute, or that the law considered the land above the woman, and so it had be done that way around.  For all the problems and inequalities women still face in developed countries, I am glad we have at least moved on far enough for us to not be acquired like property or ranked below fields.

We may however consider the possibility that Boaz is framing the proposition in this way to disguise the fact that he is approaching the court with ulterior motives.  He surely stands to lose as much as the kinsman-redeemer does by marrying Ruth, but there has always been a great tenderness in the way he has treated her, and so it seems possible that he genuinely wants to marry her, and doesn't want to jeopardise his chances by being accused of trying to usurp the kinsman-redeemer.  He is noble enough to allow the kinsman-redeemer his right, but perhaps he is also wise enough to play the game he needs to play.

Secondly, I had understood that the kinsman-redeemer had a legal responsibility, but this man is able to refuse to redeem the land in the presence of the elders without any repercussions.  Perhaps he was so distant a relative that his obligation was weakened to the point of being a right rather than a duty, or perhaps he was only obliged to redeem in case of destitution and there being no other kinsman-redeemers.

Whatever the technicalities of the law, Boaz announces that he will redeem the land and take Ruth as his wife.  The elders bless their marriage and offspring, praying that Boaz will become famous in the land and Ruth will be like Rachel and Leah, who built up the house of Israel.  Their prayers are quickly answered, as Ruth soon gives birth to a baby boy called Obed, who the concluding genealogy tells us will be the grandfather of David, Israel's greatest king.  When Naomi is presented with the boy, the women of the town say that "Naomi has a son", perhaps in recognition of the fact that legally speaking the boy is of her son's line even though he is no blood relation, but perhaps in recognition of the fact that he is a new life for her as much as he is for his parents.  I am often teased for my rather sober taste in films, but sometimes I do love a happy ending!

I suggested in my first post that Ruth's story would be an important one, and I think it is. We have learnt from Naomi about courage and love, we have learnt from Ruth about loyalty and trust, and we have learnt from Boaz about honour and responsibility.  And if that's not enough, the New Testament tells us that Jesus comes from the line of David, and so Ruth finds herself as one of only four women in the genealogy of Christ.  Ruth's story didn't begin with her and it doesn't end with her either, because there is so much more to come.  Each life is only one part of a much bigger picture, but that doesn't make it insignificant, it makes it the most important thing in creation.

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Ruth 3 - The Threshing Floor

I mentioned yesterday that Boaz is one of Naomi and Ruth's kinsman-redeemers, and that this sets up the next part of our story, so I should probably begin by explaining what that means.  According to Baker's Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, it designates "a male relative who delivers or rescues; redeems property or person; avenges the murder of a relative as a guiltless executioner; and receives restitution for wrong done to a relative who has since died".  The term only appears in the Book of Ruth, but the Hebrew word it is translated from is used around one hundred times in the Old Testament, and is elsewhere rendered more simply as "redeemer" or "near relative", suggesting that the two go hand in hand and it should go without saying that we have a duty of care towards those closest to us. 

We can already see how this may relate to the story of Ruth, but as always there is more going on here. God is the father and deliverer of Israel, so a clear parallel may be drawn between divine action and human responsibility.  The parallel becomes all the clearer when we remember that Jesus called us brothers and redeemed us with his blood, and that John spoke of walking in the way Christ walked.  The idea of playing God has been so capitalised by arguments surrounding reproductive science and capital punishment that it is easy to forget that playing God is exactly what we're supposed to be doing.  Of course there are limitations on what we can do, but we are called to follow his example and act towards others as he has acted towards us. 

Now that we've got that sorted, we can get back to the story.  One day Naomi tells Ruth that she should find a home for her where she will be provided for.  Naomi calls Ruth her daughter and so it is natural that she should assume the maternal responsibility of finding her a husband, but it can't be easy for her to let her go.  In fact, it seems from the last verse of chapter two that the harvests are now over, and so we may suppose that Naomi has been working herself up to the moment for quite some time.  Perhaps she only speaks now because Ruth will no longer be able to gather grain and so they will no longer be able to support themselves. 

Naomi again notes that Boaz is their kinsman-redeemer and suggests to Ruth that she put on her best clothes, go to the threshing floor, wait till Boaz goes to sleep, then uncover his feet and lie down.  This may seem remarkably forward, but Ruth is doing no more than holding Boaz accountable to his role as kinsman-redeemer and claiming her right to be protected, even if her method of approaching him is rather bold and a little strange.  Perhaps it has something to do with putting herself in a vulnerable position in order to demonstrate her need and show that she trusts him.

Ruth clearly does place a great deal in trust both in Boaz and in Naomi, as she goes ahead and does exactly what her mother-in-law has suggested.   When Boaz wakes up (perhaps because he has cold toes!) he is understandably a little surprised to find someone at his feet.  Ruth tells him who she is and asks him to spread his garment over her, an act which symbolises protection, and would here indicate a promise of marriage.

Boaz's response is quite interesting.  First of all he calls Ruth "daughter", recognising that she is approaching him as a relative needing help rather than a lover seeking affection. He then says that "this kindness is greater than that which you showed earlier [for] you have not run after the younger men", recognising that Ruth is acting out of her love for Naomi by choosing a husband who will care for them both.  It seems that this will be a marriage based on respect and convenience, which may seem distasteful to modern sensibilities, but would have been a good foundation in a culture that was pragmatic rather than romantic.

Ultimately, Boaz reveals that there is another who is a closer relative and must be given the chance to do his duty, but promises that if this relative refuses then he will redeem her. Naomi must surely know about this other relative, and so perhaps she tells Ruth to dress up and approach Boaz in the dead of night because she thinks he will be a better option and so Ruth must win him over in order to convince him to be the one to redeem her.  She perhaps underestimated Boaz however, as we have already seen in chapter two that it is Ruth herself and not her finery that impresses Boaz, and here he says that the whole town knows she is a woman of noble character.

Boaz tells Ruth to stay for the rest of the night, perhaps so she does not have to walk home alone in the dark, and so she lies at his feet until morning.  She leaves before it is light enough for anyone to recognise her, and Boaz makes sure that no one will know she has been there and tarnish her reputation. He then fills her shawl with barley so that she does not return to Naomi empty-handed, and perhaps as an indication that he hopes to provide for and take care of them. I can imagine Naomi smiling to herself as she tells Ruth to wait and see what happens because she knows that Boaz will not rest until he has settled things.

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Ruth 2 - Ruth meets Boaz

Chapter one ends by telling us that Naomi and Ruth arrive in Bethlehem in time for the start of the barley harvest, and chapter two begins by telling us that Naomi has a living relative of good standing called Boaz. The false starts in Moab may give us pause, but it finally feels like things are beginning to fall into place, and it's a wonderful affirmation that Naomi has done the right thing in returning.  Often we are called to step out in faith, and it is such a relief when we feel that safety net beneath us.  I experienced it for myself when I made the decision to leave university, and a week later heard my pastor talk about being recommissioned.  I had a sense not only of vindication but also of purpose, and I don't think I have ever felt so aware of or grateful for God's providence.

Naomi presumably has a home to return to, but she has no apparent source of income, and so the two women find themselves in a vulnerable position.  The law makes provision for widows through the tithes and offerings, and so Ruth and Naomi could be well cared for by the community, but they instead choose to look to themselves for help. They cannot support themselves completely unaided as the culture does not allow it, but the law commands that leftover grain be left for the vulnerable and needy, and so Ruth offers to go and work in the fields.  There is no shame in turning to others when we are in need, and I hate the cliche that "God helps those who help themselves", but sometimes it is good for us to do what we can.

Purely by chance, Ruth finds herself working in a field belonging to Boaz, and when he arrives at the field he asks after her.  (He actually asks whose woman she is, reminding us that even this most female of stories cannot escape the oppressive misogyny of the culture.)  The foreman replies that she is the Moabitess who came back with Naomi, and that she has worked steadily all day except for a short rest.  Boaz then tells her to stay with his servant girls and drink whenever she is thirsty, also telling his men not to touch her and to take some stalks from their sheaths and leave them for her.

When Ruth asks why he is being so kind, Boaz tells her that he has heard all she has done for Naomi, and it is clearly her care and her dedication that have so impressed him.  Ruth had set out to gather grain "behind anyone in whose eyes I find favour", but she did not need to use what we may call her womanly charms in order to find it.  So many woman flirt and flounce in order to attract the male gaze, and defend themselves with arguments that suggest they are celebrating their femininity, but I believe that in truth they are demeaning it.  Women weren't created to be admired for their superficialities or to flatter the male ego, but to reflect the glory of God.  As Ruth demonstrates, it is the substance and not the style that finds favour in the right places.

When Ruth returns home with sacks full of grain, Naomi blesses Boaz for his kindness and tells Ruth that he is one of their kinsmen redeemers, setting us up for the next part of the story.  She also tells Ruth that it will be good for her to remain in Boaz's field as elsewhere she may be harmed.  It's a subtle nod to the fact that the world can be a dangerous place for  women, and a sad reminder that very little has changed.  It strikes me that Boaz has to tell his men not to touch Ruth and she has to stick to certain places in order to be safe, as if it is a given that she will be harassed and it is up to her to ensure her own safety.  That same mentality is still fuels the blame culture today, but the truth is that it is the men who choose to harass and harm women that need to control themselves and modify their behaviour. 

I'm increasingly aware of the fact that my blog is heavily influenced by my feminist reading and views, but I would like to make clear that I do not have a hidden agenda here.  My main focus remains on Scripture, but I have said before that we all approach and interpret the Bible through our own prisms, and my passion for women's rights is a significant part of mine.

Monday, 11 June 2012

Ruth 1 - Naomi and Ruth

The story of Ruth is a familiar one, but it never ceases to amaze me how old stories can reveal new truths, and so I approach this reading with fresh eyes, hoping for fresh understanding.

The first thing that strikes me is that the story of Ruth begins "in the days when the judges ruled".  Ruth comes immediately after the book of Judges and so we may expect to move on to a new period, but instead we find ourselves going backwards for a closer look.  It's a reminder that Judges is at best a summary of a particular people in a particular place at a particular time, and that there are countless personal stories which it does not tell.  The fact that the scholars and scribes who wrote and compiled the Hebrew scriptures chose to tell this particular story suggests that it is important, and that is perhaps worth bearing in mind.  The second thing that strikes me is the fact that Ruth's story does not begin with Ruth.  It is a gentle reminder that our stories never truly begin with us because we're always part of something much bigger.

The opening verses of the Book of Ruth introduce us to a man named Elimelech, his wife Naomi, and their sons Mahlon and Kilion.  We are told that this family is from Bethlehem, but there is a famine in the land and so they move to Moab "for a while".  This is supposed to be a respite from suffering, but the relief is short lived as there Elimelech dies.  Of course every death is desperately sad, but I think it is easy to overlook the significance of the circumstances of Elimelech's death.  The Israelites had fought hard and endured much to reach their promised land, and so for Naomi to have to bury her husband in foreign soil would have been gut-wrenching.  And Naomi is fortunate to have two sons to care for her, but they do not marry until after their father's death, suggesting that they are still a fairly young family.  It seems Naomi has long years of widowhood ahead of her, in a foreign land where she is likely to have few friends or relatives to comfort her or provide the companionship she has lost.

There is another chance of happiness for Naomi when her sons marry Moabite women called Orpah and Ruth, but again it does not last long as both sons die within ten years, apparently without leaving any children.  Again Naomi finds new hope, and again she sees it turn to dust.  I wonder if the promise of better times ahead made the worse times that came all the harder to bear.  Sometimes it is not the low points of our lives that are the most difficult, but the sickening drops that bring us to them, and that sense of disappointment can be the cruelest thing. It is a feeling as familiar to us as it was to Naomi, and it reminds us that so much of the Bible is concerned with human life in all of its glory and its despair, and we need only look at its pages to see ourselves reflected.

The rollercoaster continues for Naomi when she learns that the Lord has provided food in Israel and so decides to go home.  We don't know how she hears this, but it seems likely that it is a whisper that travels across the border and spreads from town to town rather than a direct message, and so there is a good chance that Naomi has no idea what will await her in Bethlehem.  She must know that she may return to discover that the famine has killed the friends and family that remained behind and she is more alone than ever before, but she bravely decides to take that chance and make the long journey home. 

Unless Moabite culture was dramatically different to Israelite culture, Naomi's daughters-in-law would have been expected to remarry or return to their families, but they remain with her and the three set out for Bethlehem.  The love these women have for each other is truly remarkable.  They've not gone far however when Naomi tells Orpah and Ruth to return to their mothers and find new husbands, saying that she has little to offer them.  These two young women are all that Naomi has left in the world, and so this is a beautiful act of self-sacrifice as she tries to save them from the loneliness and estrangement she herself has experienced.

If you will allow me to indulge in some speculation for a moment, I think it's interesting that Naomi tells Orpah and Ruth to return to their mothers, when it was their fathers who would have assumed responsibility for them.  We've already seen something of the strength of feeling between three women thrown together by circumstance, and now we are reminded of the special bond between mother and daughter.  Virgina Woolf once noted that male authors rarely write of relationships between women, and for the most part my reading supports this, and so the focus on female love and friendship leads me to wonder if the Book of Ruth may perhaps be evidence of female scholarship or at least female influence.  Of course it is not impossible that a male scholar would choose to write about Naomi and her daughters-in-law, but the idea that a woman may be behind this story is an interesting one.

Back with the story, Orpah kisses Naomi goodbye and turns back, but Ruth is undeterred.  We must remember that she too has lost a husband, and perhaps she wants to hold on to the last part of him, to stay with someone who understands her loss, to comfort as she is comforted.  She clings to Naomi and tells her, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me”.  It's a beautiful declaration of love and commitment which almost sounds like a marriage vow, reminding us that there are many types of love, each as strong and as valid as any other.

And so Naomi and Ruth travel to Bethlehem, where their arrival causes quite a stir.  Naomi tells the people of the town to call her Mara because she believes the Lord has made her life very bitter and brought misfortune upon her, perhaps blaming God for all that she has suffered, or perhaps acknowledging his hand on her life and trusting that he is still in control. The people of the town could not fail to notice that she has returned without her husband or her sons, but this change of name is still a startling confession of just how bad her life is.  She must have been relieved to return home and overjoyed to have Ruth with her, but those happinesses do not wipe out her grief and she admits that with breathtaking honesty.

It's easy to lose sight of Naomi when we focus on Ruth, but I will always love her for the way she is not afraid to feel, for the way she throws herself back at life whenever it knocks her down, for the way she loves enough to let go, and for the way she owns her pain without letting it own her.

Welcome back!

I can't believe it's nearly a year sine I last posted. I had intended to take a short break while I was away on a volunteer project, but by the time I'd recovered from that I was back into my studies and the blog sort of got away from me. I didn't really notice at the time but looking back I have missed it, especially as none of the modules I was studying last year were Bible based. The modules I'll be studying next year won't be either, and so I think it would be really good for me to get back to some proper Bible study. I can't promise how regular my posts will be, but I'll be starting with Ruth so watch this space.

Monday, 1 August 2011

Another Brief Pause

I am currently on a month long volunteer project, and although I have access to the internet here, my commitment must be to the projects I'll be involved in and the community I'll be living with, so I can't promise that I'll have the time to blog for the next few weeks. Thank you for bearing with me through this slightly sporadic phase. I will be back when I can, when I'll be starting with Ruth. I've always had something of a soft spot for Ruth, so I look forward to it.

Friday, 22 July 2011

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.

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

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.

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

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.