(Judges 3.12-30) 10 November 2019
© Neil Millar
Last week, we celebrated All Saints Day, and in her sermon, Sarah reflected on what it means to enter into ‘the communion of Saints’ – to become a saint. The saints are people committed to journeying with Christ deeper into the life and love of God; letting go compulsions of the ego and allowing our ‘true’ (or truer) self to emerge. This is can be an arduous journey and it helps to have wise guides, which is why we focus (from time to time) on the lives of particular saints – people like Ninian, Francis and Teresa of Avila. As we reflect on their words and practices, see how they navigated the way, so we can be helped on our own path. In the abstract, it’s easy to think of these people as being somehow different to us (above us) but in reality, they struggled, just as we do. They faltered, made mistakes, were a rag tag bunch.
If you’re not convinced about that, you will be by the end of this little series on the Judges. In fact, having just heard about our first shady saint, Ehud, you may already be reeling!! It’s hardly a pious tale, which may explain why it’s never listed for reading on Sundays. Still, it’s here, in the scriptures, carefully crafted as a story and passed down by generations. ‘All scripture is inspired by God’, we read a few weeks ago (2Tim 3.16-17) ‘is useful for teaching… and training in righteousness’ – for becoming saints. All scripture, including Judges, with its shady cast and questionable ethics. So, what can we learn from the exploits of this wily left-handed assassin?
More in a moment. But first, a few introductory comments to orientate us.
The book of Judges, the seventh book in our Old Testament, describes the 350 or so year period between Israel’s partial ‘conquest’ of the land of Canaan under the leadership of Joshua, and the crowning of their first king, Saul. During that time Israel operated as a loose tribal confederation. The book opens with a report of Joshua’s death and the incompletion of the conquest, and this sets the stage for the sequence of stories in which the tribes are pressed by enemies on all sides – Philistines on the coast, Midianites and Moabites to the east, Canaanites in the centre. It’s a time akin to the ‘wild west’ in America, replete with bloodshed and manoeuvering. Events seem chaotic, but within them there is a pattern, and each story is ordered around a cycle with recurring phases. It goes like this:
- Israel ‘does evil in the eyes of the Lord’
- the people are given into the hands of their enemies
- eventually they cry out in anguish to the Lord
- the Lord raises up a leader (a ‘Judge’)
- the ‘spirit of the Lord’ comes upon the leader
- the leader defeats the enemy, and
- peace reigns (for a fraction or multiple of 40 years, after which things relapse and the cycle repeats)
With this in mind, we can tell from its opening line that our reading starts at the beginning of a cycle. In chapter 3, verse 11, it says that the land had been quiet for forty years (under the leadership of Othneil). But then Othneil died, and the slide began. Verse 12: ‘And the Israelites again did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord, and the Lord strengthened Eglon king of Moab over Israel because they’d done evil in the eyes of the Lord’. It’s a very clear theological assessment – compromise brings destruction.
And, so we move into phase 2 – suffering. Verse 13: ‘And Eglon gathered the Ammonites and Amalekites, and he struck Israel and they took hold of the Town of Palms (Jericho?). And the Israelites served Eglon king of Moab for 18 years.’ Eventually, as with the story of the prodigal son, the people come to their senses and the drama advances to phase 3. Verse 15: ‘The Israelites cried out to the Lord (15)’. And, phase 4, ‘the Lord raised up a rescuer for them, Ehud son of Gera the Benjaminite, a left-handed man.’
Now, one thing that’s characteristic of the style of Old Testament narrative is that it is very spare. There is rarely mention of emotion; few adjectives are used, and only relevant details are mentioned. In other words, if you’re reading these stories, it’s important to attend to the detail. The fact that Ehud is left-handed is surely significant. Indeed, his left-handedness will play a crucial part in the liberation of Israel. So, here we have a left-handed man with a tribute ‘in his hand’ to pay to Israel’s current overlord – Eglon king of Moab. As it turns out, Ehud also has a short, double-edged sword hidden under his garments, strapped to his right thigh. For a sparse text, this is a lot of detail. Reader take note!! And, there’s more to come, for Eglon, we’re told, ‘was a very fat man’. In fact, it seems there’s a spoof afoot here, for the name Eglon seems connected with ‘egel’, “calf” in Hebrew. In this satirical view of the enemy, Eglon is a gross fatted calf, ready for the slaughter, which is exactly what’s about to happen.
So, how does Ehud pull it off? He plays to Eglon’s vulnerability, his ego; entices him with a promise of secret information. Ehud and his cohort, it says have come by way of Peslim, probably a cultic worship site (Peslim meaning literally ‘place of idols’). In that culture, a place where people gathered, and talked!! Sharing ‘news’ – gossip, secrets, information. Ehud acts as if he’s heard something that will be of interest to the king – military intelligence, perhaps?? To make it more believable, Ehud sends the rest of his crew out of the room. ‘A secret word I have for you, king’, he says, acting like a collaborator. Eglon obliges, silencing his attendants and sending them from the chamber. The two men are alone. ‘A word of God I have for you’, Ehud says again, and Eglon having taken the bait, rises eagerly and draws close. Ehud seizes this moment of vulnerability (now remember he’s left-handed – the king wouldn’t suspect an attack from this non-weapon hand). ‘Innocently’, he reaches in, grabs his hidden sword, and thrusts it into Eglon’s enormous exposed belly – right through to the hilt, piercing the sphincter and releasing…well, let’s not go there (pew!!).
Now friends, the scene is deliberately grotesque and humorous. These ancient Israelites knew how to tell a story, (and you can imagine all the Israelite school boys at this point – giggling and groaning with relish!!) And the humour continues. Ehud leaves the sword enveloped in Eglon’s fat stomach and slips out the back door, after locking the vestibule door. Meanwhile, Eglon’s attendants wait respectfully in that vestibule. They see the door is locked and they can smell the odor. They assume the king is relieving himself; they give him privacy (and Ehud, precious minutes to escape)!!
Well, rest of the cycle plays out predictably. Ehud rallies the Israelites and raid the Moabites still reeling from the assassination of their king. ‘And on that day’, it says (30), ‘Moab was laid low under the hand of Israel, and the land was quiet eighty years.’
Okay, so victory against the odds, wrought at the hands of a left-handed man skilled in the ways of trickery and violence. It’s a ripping tale, but what are we to make of it as followers of gentle Jesus, as citizens of the hospitable kingdom of God? I mean Ehud’s actions hardly seem saintly! It’s very ambiguous. Does God condone the use of violence and deceit? What can we draw from this story? Why is it even in the canon?
Well, a couple of comments, and for these, I’m grateful for rich conversations with a good friend, old testament scholar Matthew Anstey. Matt points out that the purpose of these OT stories is first and foremost to affect the hearer, to pose questions and generate conversation. It’s the same with Jesus’s parables, and with all good literature. Preachers are tempted to look for the ‘moral’ of biblical stories – three key points we can take home to apply to our lives. But when we read Pride and Prejudice, for example, we don’t treat it like that. No, we get into the story – we think about the characters and their motivation, how events unfolded; get inspired, disgusted, think about our own motivations, actions, reactions.
In this story, for example, we might notice how Eglon’s desire to be in on a secret contributes to his undoing; how Israel’s capacity for restraint is compromised when oversight is removed. We relate to these things; we’re undone by the same vulnerabilities. Or maybe as you hear this story, you identify with Ehud, remembering how you too were compelled to take some decisive action to solve a situation, but which also had difficult consequences; left you with a sense of guilt – ‘blood’ on your hands. Maybe you relate to those attendants; you had a duty of care, you stepped out of the room for a moment and something terrible happened … Beyond the grotesqueness and farce, this is a deeply human story. What memories is it evoking? How does it help you think about life?
A final thought. I mentioned earlier that these stories cycle around 7 distinct phases. Did you notice one missing? In this story, there’s no mention of the Spirit coming upon Ehud. If detail is so important in these stories, is this the narrator’s way of saying that God was not with Ehud, of critiquing his approach? It’s ambivalent … like so much in our lives. We like things to be clear-cut, to be reassured that this job, this financial decision, this decision to start or end a relationship is what I’m supposed to do – God’s will. We like to feel justified. But that’s not always how it is. We pray and act, hoping it’s right. But we don’t know for sure.
Part of the genius of these stories is that they’re not tied up with a bow, an unambiguous divine endorsement of what’s occurred. Life’s like that, and faith doesn’t necessarily save us from this ambiguity. Now, as in the days of the Judges, innocence may elude us – but that doesn’t mean we’re abandoned by God. Through the ups and downs of her history, the sometimes-shady antics of her sometimes shady saints, Israel was called and called again to renew faithfulness, and trust in God’s mercy and grace. And, so it is for us; in Christ, always, we begin again…
Reference
Alter, R (2013) Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets – Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings, A Translation with Commentary, WW Norton & Co, New York.