(Judges 16.4-22)
24 November 2019 – © Neil Millar
Of all the Judges, Samson – the strong man, the last of the twelve, is probably the most famous. Who of us hasn’t heard of his penchant for riddles, or of his daring feats with a lion, foxes, and a donkey jaw bone? The story is recounted in four dramatic chapters and the piece you heard comes near the end. If you were to read the whole account afresh, you’d see that Samson is a wild and enigmatic figure. A child of promise, consecrated to the Lord from birth, he is a dedicated ‘holy’ man. And yet, these episodes reveal a flawed human being. Samson is impetuous and violent; strong as an ox but also susceptible, especially when it comes to women!!
In the past two weeks, I’ve noted the pattern around which the Judges stories are structured. Each cycle begins with a note about Israel once again doing evil in the eyes of the Lord and that’s exactly how this saga begins (13.1). Having been weakened by compromise, she is then overtaken by one of the surrounding nations, in this case, the Philistines. Now, as astute readers, you know what happens next. After rebellion and suffering comes repentance. It’s been the pattern all through the book but in this cycle it’s never mentioned. It’s what I’d call a screaming omission, and I wonder, is this the writer’s way of pointing out how badly the rot has actually set in? Of showing how completely these people have drifted from God, accommodated themselves to the values of the surrounding culture, moved beyond repentance? Is that possible?
Well, from Israel’s side, perhaps it is. But, as this story reveals, it’s not just about Israel. Years ago, I heard a recording of a sermon by the Welsh preacher Martyn Lloyd Jones based Ephesians 2. It was titled – ‘But God’. ‘You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world’, Paul writes, ‘the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient’, He’s speaking of the Ephesians, but it rings true of the Israelites of Samson’s time. In fact, all of us were like this. ‘Following the desires of flesh and senses, we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.’ ‘But God’, says Paul. ‘But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ.’
There’s no record of Israel’s contrition in the Samson story, no evidence of repentance. Even so, God is faithful, and in the next two chapters, we read of the emergence of Samson – the next agent in God’s unfolding deliverance.
Now Samson, as I’ve suggested, is a complex character. His birth, announced by an angel to a previously barren woman, bears the mark of blessing. From the moment of conception, he is to be consecrated to God: ‘no razor shall touch his head, for the lad shall be a nazarite of God from the womb’ the messenger/angel declares (13.5). It emerges as he grows, that he is gifted with great physical strength. In every way, he is a bull of a man, and as often as his heroic feats save him, they get him in trouble. By the time of our reading, he’s a marked man; and even more so since he’s continually frustrated Philistine efforts to neutralise his strength. They’re feeling humiliated and they’ll stop at nothing to bring him down. Enter Delilah.
I said earlier, that Samson had weaknesses; most obviously, he was a sucker for Philistine women. Delilah was the latest in a growing list, and he was clearly smitten. The Philistine overlords see this as their chance and they approach her with a ‘deal’: ‘Entice him’, they say, ‘and see in what his great power lies and with what we shall prevail against him’. They offer a huge reward for this information and, well, what choice did she really have? And so, she questions Samson. ‘Tell me, pray, in what your great power lies, and with what you could be bound and tortured?’
Well, Samson may be brash, but he’s never been particularly forthcoming with the truth. He gives a plausible explanation, an ambush is laid, and (again!) the Philistines are outwitted. Delilah has another go: ‘Look you’ve mocked me and spoken lies to me’, she protests, com’on, tell me the truth. At this point, things get a bit steamy: ‘If they make sure to bind me with new ropes with which no task has been done, I would be weakened and become like any man’, Samson says provocatively!! Delilah obliges and, we read, ‘an ambush was laid in the chamber’ (12). Alas, to no avail, Samson has tricked them again. It’s becoming comical. Delilah has a third go, and it too is thwarted. However, it does appear that Samson may be weakening. Note that on this occasion he does mention his hair. She’s getting closer, and on her fourth attempt she pulls out all stops: Samson, you say you love me but your heart isn’t really with me, ‘three times now you’ve mocked me’. Com’on, give me the secret. And she pestered and badgered him, day after day, until he was sick to death of it.
Finally, she’s getting to him, and even though it seems like madness, finally, he confides in her – it’s to do with my hair, ‘were I shaven, my power would turn away from me’. Predictably, Delilah spills the beans, and the tragedy plays out. She puts Samson to sleep in her lap, shaves his head, and the rest, as they say, is history – he’s captured, blinded, and imprisoned for hard labour. All seems lost, except for that note from the narrator: ‘And the hair of his head began to grow as soon as it was shaven’ (22).
Well, that’s where our reading ended. If we’d read on, we’d learn that, sometime later, Samson was dragged back to the temple for the people to gloat and make sport of him. It was a full house; thousands of Philistines were there. Samson seizes the moment and offers a prayer. It’s the only time we ever hear of him praying. ‘My Master, Lord, recall me, pray, and strengthen my just this time, O God, that I may avenge myself.’ And, we read, he ‘grasped the two central pillars on which the temple stood and pushed against them… and the temple fell on his oppressors… ‘and the dead he killed in his death were more than he killed in his life.’ Hardly, a ringing endorsement for a so-called saint, but thus the story ends; the reader left to pick up the pieces and make sense of things.
So, what sense do you make of it? I find myself saying things like: ‘How much longer can it go on like this?’ It’s futile! It does not bring true liberation. And actually, I think that’s what we’re supposed to be saying. This cycle of violence and retribution, of rebellion, rescue, and then more rebellion, is going nowhere; there must be another way, a better way!! We need a true deliverer, someone who can break the cycle, not just rescue us for another depressing round. In coming weeks, we will tell the story of the advent of just such a deliverer. It will be a welcome relief.
Having said that, there are other questions to engage with in this story. I’m thinking particularly here about the power of secrecy, and how the keeping and revealing of secrets affects our lives. On the one hand, Scripture suggests it’s important to stay quiet about some things. Think of Jesus’s words on prayer, fasting and giving. He instructs disciples not to draw attention to their spiritual disciplines, lest they undermine themselves. When we parade our supposed virtue, practices that would otherwise deepen connection with God, become instead obstacles. It’s as if we weaken their (and our) integrity. ‘When you give to the needy, don’t announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do’, Jesus says (Matt 6.2) – ‘to be honoured by others.’ ‘Truly, I tell you, they have their reward in full. But when you give… do not let your left hand know what your right is doing so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.’ Samson revealed the secret of his strength, his virtue, and it undermined him.
On the other hand, some secrets are destructive and their power needs to be undermined – painful secrets about things we’ve done or things done to us; secret fears, secret addictions. The burden of these is oppressive; carrying them is lonely and exhausting. In these circumstances, as hard as it is to tell the truth, it’s also incredibly liberating. Think of the courageous souls who gave evidence at the Royal Commission into Child Sexual Abuse; finally, a chance to be heard, supported, to begin to heal. I don’t say such secrets are shared with everyone, that’s not helpful. But nor is concealing them forever. As a minister, I know how liberating and empowering it can be when a painful secret is finally told, exposed to the light. Somehow this thing that isolates and shames us, becomes shareable; something that has been an obstacle to growth and deeper communion begins to dissolve, and to open up the possibility of transformation.
*****
So – these past weeks, we’ve encountered some shady characters, some of the more unsavoury bits of the history of God’s people. It’s not easy reading – Ehud, the left-handed assassin; Jael, skewering Sisera with a tent peg; Samson, lustful, destructive, razing the temple, slashing, burning and crushing thousands. Yet read closely, these texts pose questions about the human condition (our condition) – the choices we make, the complexity and ambiguity of the path, the mystery of faithfulness, the slow, painful search for integrity, for true peace, true justice. It’s not always easy to see where and how God is at work. At times it looks like a complete disaster. But God … Somehow, through the mess of this history, something beckons – the intimation of a reality that destabilizes every unsatisfactory compromise. In a world that appears to be going to pot yet again, it is this reality we continue to look and listen for – ‘the light’ that ‘shines in the darkness’, and that will not be overcome.