Friday, September 4
Judges 14: It is significant, surely, that all three stories about Samson have to do with women. His addiction to women is Samson’s tragic flaw. It would be easy enough to blame the women, I suppose, but that would be missing the point. The problem is Samson’s.
This first story about Samson (verses 1-4) concerns his projected marriage to a Philistine woman, and we recall that the previous chapter began by describing Israel’s bondage to the Philistines. Samson’s fascination with this Philistine woman, then, symbolizes Israel’s fascination with the surrounding paganism, a fascination that in each case leads to blindness and death.
As a consecrated Nazirite, Samson represents Israel’s higher calling and dedication to the true God in true worship. His failure to live according to that higher calling is symbolic of Israel’s failure.
Samson’s parents mention that Israelites are not supposed to marry pagans, but the inspired author speaks of God’s own plan, even in this deviation from the Law. All of Samson’s career, including his sins, will be under the influence of Divine Providence. Through all of it, God will bring good out of evil.
A strong man, but also a very weak man, Samson is an ironical figure. Ultimately his victory over the Philistines will involve both his weakness and his strength.
The blindness of Samson, however, begins very early in the story. In a sense, indeed, Samson starts out blind, long before the Philistines gouge out his eyes. Through this whole account Samson seems to be walking in the darkness. No matter. God knows where the story is going.
The story of the lion (verses 5-9) invites a comparison between Samson and David, both of whom fought against Philistines. The latter are symbolized in the lion. David, before he killed the Philistine Goliath, first killed the lion. Samson, before he takes on the Philistines, kills a lion with his bare hands.
This is why the Spirit of the Lord came down on Samson, as the Spirit of the Lord will descend on him in the next chapter. The roaring of the lion will be matched by the shouting of the Philistines. Samson will tear the binding cords apart, just as he tore the lion apart.
The killing of the lion, then, symbolizes Samson’s vocation. Indeed, Samson’s own tribe, Dan, was likened to a lion: “Dan is a lion’s whelp that leaps forth from Bashan” (Deuteronomy 33:22).
Once the lion is dead, the bees build their hive in its carcass. This symbolizes the Holy Land itself, flowing with milk and honey. What is this honey? It is the tasting of God’s Law, which the Psalter describes as sweeter than honey. This honey is the fruit of Samson’s victory over the lion. It is the result of his combat with the lion.
Samson will use this incident to stump the Philistines. That is to say, he perceives the incident to involve a riddle, or mystery. There is a mystery in the lion and the honey that lies beyond the comprehension of his enemies.
The honey in the carcass is symbolic also of Samson himself, who will be victorious in his defeat. Sweetness will come from his death.
Samson’s first contest with the Philistines (verses 12-14) will not be a test of muscles but of brains. He will attempt to outwit them, as Moses had done with the Philistines.
Alas, Samson the riddler does something not very bright. He is deceived by the woman, and this is Samson’s first experience of betrayal. The real treachery, on the other hand, comes from Samson’s own emotions. He loses control. He is betrayed by his feelings. Had he maintained control over his emotions, the woman would never have deceived him. The man who cannot control himself can hope to control nothing else.
The wedding feast ends badly.
Saturday, September 5
Judges 15: Arguably the most memorable characteristic of Samson was his immense, Spirit-endowed strength, which he displayed in such vigorous, wholesome, and commendable pursuits as ripping lions apart with his bare hands, snapping strong ropes as though they were thin threads, toting heavy city gates up to inconvenient places, all the while burning the harvests and bashing the heads of deserving Philistines. Such rollicking exhibitions of brawn, tending as they did to keep God’s enemies in check and off-balance, were entirely commendable, and Samson spent a good twenty years doing what he did best (verse 20).
Psalm 30 (Greek and Latin 29): This psalm bears a curious title that tells us something interesting of this psalm’s use in ancient Judaism: “A Psalm of David. A Song at the dedication of the House of David.”
First, it is ascribed to King David, nor is it difficult to think of him praying this psalm of thanksgiving for the Lord’s deliverance. After all, David came to the throne of Israel after years of oppression and exile under Saul, and these are the sentiments we would expect on his being delivered from those hard times.
Second, however, besides its individual and personal use in the case of David, this psalm was later sung as part of a communal, liturgical festival celebrated every year—the Dedication (Hanukkah) of the temple. This was a winter feast (cf. John 10:22) dating from 165 B.C., and Jews around the world continue to celebrate it even today, long after their temple has disappeared from history.
This twofold historical use of our psalm already suggests more than one layer of meaning. First, there is the remembrance of David’s years of oppression and exile, followed by a final deliverance: “I will extol you, O Lord, for You have lifted me up, and have not let my foes rejoice over me.”
But the second half of the title, which tells us of its use at the feast of Hanukkah, indicates its communal use. David’s personal sentiments of gratitude and praise to the redeeming God became incorporated into Israel’s restoration to her temple after years of oppression and strife. This history is narrated in chapters 1—4 of 1 Maccabees. When Antiochus Epiphanes IV came to the throne of Syria in September of 175 B.C., it was the beginning of very hard times for the Chosen People. Their oppression by this ruthless overlord included even the desecration of the temple. At the end of this decade of terror (175–165), when Judas Maccabaeus rededicated the temple at Jerusalem, Israel felt it could now, with unburdened heart, make its own the ancient sentiments of David: “I will extol you, O Lord, for You have lifted me up, and have not let my foes rejoice over me.”
But both David and the temple were “types” of him who was to come, and the deeper, truer voice in this psalm is Christ our Lord on the day of the Resurrection: “O Lord, you have brought my soul up from the grave; You have kept me alive, that I should not go down into the abyss.” The time of suffering was followed by the morning of the paschal deliverance: “For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life.” The dark hour of the Passion (cf. John 13:30) gave way to the dawn of victory.
Sunday, September 6
Judges 16: There is a serial correspondence between the two stories of Samson with women in his youth and in his later days. First, each woman is used by the Philistines to “entice” the strong man (14:15; 16:5). Second, in each story Samson is bound with “new ropes” (15:12–13; 16:8, 12). Third, in both cases the breaking of these ropes is compared to destruction by fire (15:14; 16:9). Fourth, both women want to know a secret, which Samson, finally unable to endure their insistent pouting, rashly discloses to them (14:16–17; 16:16–17).
The close correspondence in detail between these two narratives, however, serves chiefly to heighten the contrast between them. We perceive that Samson in the second story has become, as it were, a different man. In the first account, Samson is “in command,” both of himself and of the situation. In the second, Samson is in command of neither. Twenty years separate the two accounts, and Samson is no longer young.
Nor, for that matter, is he any longer virtuous. Just prior to falling in love with Delilah, in fact, he had already become involved with a prostitute (verse 1).
In short, the aging Nazirite falls. Seduced unto the loss of his hair, the outward sign of his inner consecration, Samson is suddenly bereft of his great strength (16:17–20). And then, as though to guarantee that His Nazirite will never look at another woman, God permits Samson to be blinded. Unseeing, but faintly sensing the pagan world about him,
Samson spends the ensuing years, day by day, grinding the Philistine grain.
But all these things, even Samson’s fall, are parts of God’s providential plan (14:4). As tragic as any figure that ever graced the theatres of ancient Greece, blind Samson bides his time, and at last, though he cannot see the light of it, there dawns the day of his deliverance. As the multitude of Samson’s taunters assemble in their temple, he knows what he will do. Sensing the strength that returned slowly to his frame as the hair returned slowly to his head, Samson resolves to redeem his tarnished life by the sacrifice of a selfless death. Praying for the grace to do so (16:28–30), he wreaks his final destruction on the Philistines by forcing one last display of his immense strength.
Monday, September 7
Judges 17: The final five chapters of Judges form a sort of appendix, to show how bad things had become just prior to the rise of the monarchy. It was a period of great decline, and these stories serve to explain why Israel at last decided to want a king to rule over them. Israel’s lack of a king is mentioned five times in these five chapters.
Indeed, we perceive a decline even in the quality of the judges themselves. The list had started with the heights represented by Ehud, Deborah, and Gideon, declining gradually to the depths of Jephthah and Samson.
The present chapter begins an account of the failure of the Levites, on whose ministry the spiritual life of Israel depended so much. These were the spiritual guardians of the people. The apostate Levite introduced in this chapter was, in fact, a descendent of Moses!
We also see in this chapter the moral failure of a mother. When we began with the book with Deborah, “a mother in Israel,” we hardly expected things to end so badly.
If we compare this story with the Bible’s earlier idolatry of the Golden Calf, we see a decline from gold to silver. Even the idolatry is cheaper. Everything is declining!
The Levite described here exemplifies a certain kind of clergyman, who fails in his duties as a pastor because he finds it more profitable to become the domestic chaplain of a wealthy family. He can be found in every age: the yes pastor. We may contrast this Levite with the zealous Phineas.
Philippians 3:1-11: Philippians was written relatively early in Paul’s ministry, some time during his three years (52-55) in Ephesus. This dating would put it close to the composition of Galatians.
In the present section of Philippians, in fact, the reader is much reminded of the double principal theme of Galatians, salvation by faith and freedom from the works of the Mosaic Law. For example, in Paul’s comments about his communion with Christ, one can hardly fail to observe the resemblance between verses 8 to 10 and Galatians 2:20.
There is a difference between Philippians and Galatians in this respect, however, and the difference is this: Whereas Galatians was written for a congregation that had already begun to succumb to the teachings of the Judaizers (namely, that the Gentiles were obliged to be circumcised and to observe the Mosaic Law), in Philippians this teaching is regarded as a threat only, not an immediate and critical danger. The Judaizing errors that had already reached Galatia had not yet found their way to Philippi.
Hence, there is a difference in tone between these two epistles; nor do we find in Philippians the shock and harshness of reprimand characteristic of Galatians. One thinks of Paul’s “foolish Galatians” (Galatians 3:1) in contrast to the Philippians, whom he calls “my brethren dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and my crown” (Philippians 4:1).
Tuesday, September 8
Judges 18: The Danites migrated north to get away from the Philistines (verses 1-6). These men, we must understand, were quitters, unwilling to fight for their proper inheritance. They sought and accepted the counsel of a man that was not qualified to give counsel. They already knew what they were supposed to do, but they wanted a “second opinion.” The Lord had said, “Go, conquer the land that I will give you,” but they wanted an easy out, after finding that the task was more difficult than they supposed. Consequently they sought out a teacher who would tell them what they wanted to hear.
This should not surprise us, because we already know that this Levite’s own ministry has already been based on compromise and half-measures. He was not, after all, even authorized for the ministry he has undertaken. He is a false teacher, who pretends to speak for God.
The Bible is full of criticism against false teachers and false prophets. They are chiefly to be recognizes by certain traits:
First, they like to please people. They have no authority beyond their ability to please people. Their authority is based entirely on their popularity.
Second, because they want to please people, they tend to say what people expect and want them to say.
Third, if challenged they appeal to their success.
The situation was described by the Apostle Paul: “Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned aside to fables” (2 Timothy 4:2-4).
The Danites, who had insufficient courage to fight the Philistines, are quite prepared to invade a small defenseless people, who lived in an unwalled city (verses 7-21).
The Danites, that is to say, in addition to their other shortcomings, believed in cheap grace. They wanted the blessings of the covenant without the cost of the covenant.
Just as the Danites robbed somebody else’s land, they absconded with somebody else’s gods. Indeed, they wanted only such gods as they could control. Those were gods worthy of their cowardice.
They also discovered a clergyman who was worthy of them, a quisling that would do their bidding and tell them what they wanted to hear. This nameless man was a nobody, a clerical non-entity, a hierarchical cipher. Because the price was right, he went along with them.
Man-made gods, however, tend not to be very loyal to their makers. They are disposed to take on a life of their own. They declare their independence, as it were. Micah learned this the hard way.
The city of Dan became a center of idol-worship. Jeroboam I would eventually erect there one of his two golden calves.
Wednesday, September 9
Judges 19: We come now to a horror story, a nightmare. There is a growing sense of darkness, beginning with physical darkness and going to moral darkness. The unfortunate woman is thrown out into the dark, where she is gang raped all night long. After enduring unspeakable brutality, she dies at daybreak.
There is a great irony, of course, in the fact that the Levite did not want to spend the night among pagans. He wanted to sleep secure, surrounded by his fellow Israelites. He lengthened his journey for this very purpose.
We must bear in mind that this is not a story about pagans. All the characters in this account are children of the covenant.
Gibeah, however, has become as bad as Sodom. Indeed, there are striking parallels between this story and that in Genesis 19.
There is also the cruelty of the Levite himself, who abandons his wife (for “concubine” in context means only a wife of inferior rank) to the cruelty of the mob. He has clearly not forgiven his wife for her infidelity. He is morally worse than she. This compromised individual is no man of God.
It is instructive that Hosea is the only prophet ever to mention this distressing incident at Gibeah, and he does so three times (5:8; 9:9; 10:9). Obviously Hosea, who also was married to an unfaithful wife, thought a great deal about this story and its potential lessons. Indeed, Hosea’s own treatment of his wife is a fruitful matter of contrast with the behavior of the Levite in this chapter.
Philippians 4:1-9: From the beginning of this epistle we have suspected that there was some sort of problem at Philippi. Nothing in this epistle has indicated that the problem was doctrinal. In fact, when the Apostle condemned the heretics, there was nothing to suggest that they were Philippian heretics. On the contrary, Paul was obliged to tell the Philippians about those heretics (3:18).
No, we have suspected that the underlying problem at Philippi, if there was a problem, had to do with what we may call “conflicting personalities.” This would explain Paul’s emphasis on respect, humility, and mutual forbearance (2:2-4).
The present chapter proves our suspicions to have been correct, because it finally identifies the two “conflicting personalities” as Evodia and Syntyche, Philippian women who are exhorted to settle their differences and “be of one mind in the Lord.” Three things may be noted of this exhortation to Evodia and Syntyche.
First, even though the conflict between them apparently provided the impulse that prompted Paul to write this epistle, it is a fact that he left the matter aside until this closing chapter. To prepare for it, he laid the groundwork by asserting more general and universally applicable principles about humility, obedience, and mutual service. That is to say, Paul did not speak to the particular problem directly until he established the basis on which it could be addressed and settled.
Second, it may have been the case that Paul was reluctant to name these two women in public. His explicit exhortation to them, after all, would be terribly embarrassing. Paul’s words would leave them no cover, no room for equivocation or retreat, and perhaps Paul felt reluctant to take such measures. No pastor enjoys singling people out by a public reprimand, and pastors who do so will often enough have to pay a price for it.
Third, when Paul finally does name Evodia and Syntyche in this fourth chapter, he makes clear, by example, a useful pastoral rule—namely, that public sins, such as give scandal to a congregation, are not private matters of the sort covered by Matthew 18:15-20. On the contrary, public sins are subject to public censure and may require public repentance. In the end, Paul decides to call Evodia and Syntyche to public account. They are reprimanded even as they offended—in the sight of the church. (And not just the Philippian church. For nearly two millennia now, the whole world has read about them!)
Thursday, September 10
Luke 6:12-19: Luke’s account in these verses display chiefly two features proper to this particular Evangelist.
First, unlike the corresponding texts in Mark and Matthew, Luke mentions that Jesus, before he selects and calls the Twelve, spends the night in prayer, doubtless seeking enlightenment in his decision.
Second, unlike Matthew, who follows this section with the Sermon on the Mount, Luke places Jesus on a plain, thus preparing for the Sermon on the Plain. The topography here is symbolic. When Jesus ascends a mountain in Matthew, he goes there to teach. When he ascends a mountain in Luke, he goes there to pray. Hence, Luke must have a sermon on the plain, not the mountain.
Philippians 4:10-23: Right from the beginning Paul had experienced the generosity of the Macedonian Christians (verses 15-16; 2 Corinthians 8:1-5), and now once again, a further opportunity being provided, they have not failed him (verses 10,18).
For his part, Paul has learned to be content with whatever circumstances the Lord sees fit to provide for him (verses 11-12), confident that he can do all things in Christ who strengthens him (verse 13; 2 Corinthians 12:10; 2 Timothy 4:17; Acts 18:9-10). This is not self-sufficiency but an ongoing dependence on Christ, a difference that separates Christian contentment from Stoic contentment.
We observe that Paul employs the language of sacrifice to describe the generous gift of the Philippians (verse 18; Ephesians 5:28; Romans 12:1).
Following the doxology that could form an appropriate ending to the epistle (verse 20), there is added a series of personal salutations which we are probably correct in suspecting to have been written in Paul’s own hand (verses 21-23). This interpretation corresponds to what we know to have been Paul’s practice (cf. 2 Thessalonians 3:17; Galatians 6:11; 1 Corinthians 16:21; Philemon 9).
The reference to “Caesar’s house” (Kaisaros oikia—verse 22) means those who work for the Roman government. (The expression “house of” with the name of a king normally carries this meaning in Holy Scripture, as it does throughout the ancient literature of the Middle East.) Ephesus, as the regional capital of Asia, was the site of a great deal of Roman officialdom (Acts 19:38), and Paul’s mention of “saints” inside it shows that some Christians were already finding their place in the Roman government. This is ironical, of course, for this was the same government that was keeping Paul imprisoned. Indeed, it may have been Paul’s own example that led to the conversion of these people (1:13).
Friday, September 11
Colossians 1:1-18: Paul tells the Colossians that he prays for them always (verse 8), and in this chapter he provides an example of such prayer. Its basic form is thanksgiving (verses 3,12), and its outline is structured on the triad of faith, hope, and charity (verses 4-5; cf. 1 Thessalonians 1:3; 5:8; 1 Corinthians 13:13).
Paul prays that the Colossians will be filled with spiritual “understanding” (epignosis— verses 9-10; 2:2; 3:13), which will enable then to escape—and perhaps also to refute—the early Gnostic speculations to which the churches of Asia Minor had been exposed. Such “understanding” included a personal knowledge of God (verse 10) and the perception of His design to save the human race in Christ (2:2). This understanding is identical with “wisdom” (Sophia).
Paul’s “understanding” does not refer to a speculative knowledge but involves the transformation of the moral life by the sustained effort to please God (verse 10). The believer grows in spiritual understanding by how he lives.
Christians are called to be a holy people and chosen (verses 1,12), to share the “inheritance” (kleros) of the saints. In their vocation they pass from “the power of darkness” to the realm of light (verses 12-13). We observe that the darkness from which they are rescued is not the mere absence of light. It is a darkness that exercises “authority” (exsousia) over their lives. Those not in Christ, in other words, live in the bondage to darkness. To escape it is true deliverance.
Judges 21: The governing motif of this chapter is rebirth for the tribe of Benjamin.
It begins with a problem. The other Israelites have taken a vow not to let their daughters marry Benjaminites. This is the problem. No one had instructed them to make that vow, and now the vow has created a serious difficulty. They had taken the vow before they offered the sacrifice of reconciliation. They had acted with a split mind, doing things that were mutually opposed. This is an example of a rash vow, of the sort that Jephthe made. Such vows often enough create bigger problems than those they were supposed to solve. Anyway, this is the problem governing the present chapter, and the Israelites themselves caused it.
The story is full of irony, of course. For example, it ends at the shrine city of Shiloh, one of the ancient words for “peace.” The scene, however, is anything but peaceful.
How do we explain all this contradiction and activity at cross-purposes? The chapter’s final verse does the best it can for an explanation. Namely, everybody was following his own inclination and preference. “Everybody do what you want,” though a slogan not without popular appeal in our own times, is a formula for chaos, and what we have here toward the end of Judges is a chaotic situation.
Still, the Book of Judges finishes with an act of deliverance and a new birth. Benjamin is spared. It does not disappear from history, as did Simeon and Reuben. From the tribe of Benjamin, in fact, would come, in due course, the Apostle Paul. This final chapter, then, is about God’s fidelity even in the midst of irony and chaos.
Friday, September 11
Colossians 1:1-18: Paul tells the Colossians that he prays for them always (verse 8), and in this chapter he provides an example of such prayer. Its basic form is thanksgiving (verses 3,12), and its outline is structured on the triad of faith, hope, and charity (verses 4-5; cf. 1 Thessalonians 1:3; 5:8; 1 Corinthians 13:13).
Paul prays that the Colossians will be filled with spiritual “understanding” (epignosis— verses 9-10; 2:2; 3:13), which will enable then to escape—and perhaps also to refute—the early Gnostic speculations to which the churches of Asia Minor had been exposed. Such “understanding” included a personal knowledge of God (verse 10) and the perception of His design to save the human race in Christ (2:2). This understanding is identical with “wisdom” (Sophia).
Paul’s “understanding” does not refer to a speculative knowledge but involves the transformation of the moral life by the sustained effort to please God (verse 10). The believer grows in spiritual understanding by how he lives.
Christians are called to be a holy people and chosen (verses 1,12), to share the “inheritance” (kleros) of the saints. In their vocation they pass from “the power of darkness” to the realm of light (verses 12-13). We observe that the darkness from which they are rescued is not the mere absence of light. It is a darkness that exercises “authority” (exsousia) over their lives. Those not in Christ, in other words, live in the bondage to darkness. To escape it is true deliverance.