Be Careful What You Vow For | Sunday, April 28, 2024

The children of Israel again did evil in the sight of the LORD... they forsook the LORD and did not serve Him... Now Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty man of valor, but he was the son of a harlot... And Jephthah made a vow to the LORD, and said, "If You will indeed deliver the people of Ammon into my hands, then it will be that whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace from the people of Ammon, shall surely be the LORD's, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering." (Judges 10–11, selected)

God uses crooked sticks to draw straight lines—but be careful what you vow for.

A Challenging Book About God's Grace

Judges is a challenging text. Some books of the Bible are uplifting and encouraging, but Judges would hardly be classified that way. It is a sad story, filled with the depressing accounts of Israel's continual departures from God, their distresses as a result, and their defeats at the hands of their enemies.

Yet it is also a story of God's grace. In the midst of Israel's turning to idolatry and immorality, when they would cry out, God in His grace would raise up a deliverer. And as we continue in the passage today, that grace is also seen in the individuals He chooses to use. A friend of mine sometimes says that God uses crooked sticks to draw straight lines, and we have certainly seen that in this book.

None of the judges listed are standouts of great faith and obedience whom we'd point to as people to emulate. They all have issues and problems, and yet God still chooses to use them. I'm thankful for that, because if you think quietly about yourself, you may conclude God could never use you. But if Judges were filled with perfect people, we'd say, "Well, God could never use me." Instead, the book is full of people you'd gloss over because of the problems in their lives.

Crooked Sticks Throughout Scripture

We saw it with Gideon. He began well, recognizing his weakness and trusting the Lord. But when he began to do well, he started trusting in himself and even set himself up to be worshiped. Though he refused the title of king, he lived like one—so much so that his son's name, Abimelech, means "my father is king." What audacity to name your child that.

In a few weeks we'll pause our study of Judges for the summer and return in the fall, when we'll meet the most well-known judge—Samson—a man with long, flowing hair. When we meet him, we'll again scratch our heads and ask, "Really? This is who God chose?" That's true for many in the Old Testament. Christians greatly honor King David, yet when you get into his story there were major problems.

Last week in Judges 10, two judges, Tola and Jair, are mentioned. Their lives seem so insignificant that the text simply says they judged Israel for a time and then died—nothing great recorded, only that God in His grace chose to use them. A pastor I've looked up to for years says, "The best of men are men at best, and God doesn't always have the best to choose from," because all of us are still sinners.

We feel distress when we're called upon to choose leaders, left choosing between two bad options—I'm sure none of you are feeling any of that in 2024. But God always only ever has the least bad options to choose from, and He's still gracious. What is awesome is that many of these imperfect lives are still listed in Hebrews 11, the Hall of Faith. Hebrews 11:32 says, "What more shall I say? For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah." This leads to our first point: God is far more gracious than me in who He chooses and how He uses individuals.

I've worked with a church in transition for the last eight months, helping them search for a new senior pastor. They sent me the document describing who they're looking for, and I thought, "You'll never find this person. His name is Jesus, and He hasn't returned yet." That's how we are in our choosing—but God is so gracious in His.

Israel's Departure in Judges 10

Before we jump into Jephthah's story, we need to back up into Judges 10, because there are parallels. Judges 10:6 gives the repeated phrase: "The children of Israel did evil in the sight of the LORD." This book paints in perfect color the reality that God's people had all kinds of problems. When we write the histories of our heroes, we gloss over their faults. The Bible doesn't do that, and that's one proof of its divine inspiration.

These events took place about 3,100 years ago. God had redeemed Israel from Egypt, brought them through the wilderness, and into the promised land under Joshua. They were to be set apart, distinct, worshiping the one true God and rejecting the gods of the people around them. But by Judges 10 they bowed down to Baal and Ashtoreth and served the gods of the Syrians, Sidonians, Moabites, Ammonites, and Philistines. They forsook the one true God—Yahweh, the name God announced to them—and made Him just one among many in their pantheon.

We may think we've progressed beyond that 3,100 years later, but we still have things that master people's lives, that they trust in and devote themselves to. You can often tell what a person trusts in by looking at their credit card statement and their calendar, and by what they turn to when something difficult crashes into their life. We don't have the same names, but when distress comes, people turn to MasterCard, or like the Greeks and Romans, to Dionysus or Bacchus—alcohol. We are tempted, like Israel, to trust in and intermingle with the things of this world.

What Should Make Us Distinct

God wants us to be set apart. What things ought to differentiate me from my neighbors and even my family? In the New Testament, one is a love for our neighbors—but also for our enemies. Jesus said, "They will know you are my followers by the love you have one for another," and He called us not merely to love those who love us but to love our enemies.

You may say you have no enemies, but there are probably people you don't like—people who don't look, smell, talk, or vote like you. In Jesus' day it was taught, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." Wouldn't we love it if God said hating some people was fine? But He doesn't. To love your enemy is to will the good of another.

Galatians 5 shows what should characterize my life: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control. These are the things that should mark a follower of the one true God, where people would say, "There is a follower of God." But Israel was tempted to devote themselves to all the gods around them, and this resulted in immorality—many of these idols were worshiped through immorality.

God Passively Punishes His People

God passively punishes His people—He allows them to reap the consequences of their choices. They chose to bow to other gods, so He says, "I'm not going to intervene. I won't put a speed bump or a stoplight in front of you." As a result, Israel ended up oppressed, and they cried out, and in His grace God would raise up a deliverer. That's the cycle we've seen.

But in Judges 10, when they cried out, the Lord responded uncharacteristically. In verse 11 He reminded them of the many times He had delivered them—from the Egyptians, the Amorites, the Ammonites, the Philistines, the Sidonians, the Amalekites, and the Maonites—yet they had forsaken Him. Then in verse 13 He says, "I will deliver you no more," and in verse 14 He responds with some sarcasm: "Go and cry out to the gods which you have chosen; let them deliver you in your time of distress." I have an A+ in sarcasm, so I rather love this. God says, "You bowed to Baal and followed all these gods—see if they will save you."

The people repeat their tearful appeal, but this time God does not show up with a deliverer. The people of Ammon encamp against them, and the leaders of Gilead ask one another, "Who is the man who will begin to fight against the people of Ammon? He shall be our head." This is the setup for Judges 11, and it brings our second point: sometimes God's grace and rescuing hand purposefully delays.

Why does God delay? I don't always know. But as a dad, sometimes I watch my children, and though I could intervene, I wait to see what happens. Sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised; sometimes not. One Bible teacher says, "The greatest judgment God can send to His people is to let them have their own way and not interfere." Here God did not interfere.

Gilead: A Foot in Two Worlds

A quick word on the place called Gilead. When God brought Israel out of Egypt, the purpose was to bring them into the promised land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea—the land promised to Abraham in Genesis 12. That phrase "from the river to the sea" describes this land. But before they crossed, while still on the east side of the Jordan—in the region we know today as the kingdom of Jordan, whose capital, Amman, sounds like Ammon—two and a half tribes (Reuben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh) asked Moses to let them stay there because they liked the land.

Moses warned them, but they entered a covenant: they would help take the promised land, then return east of the Jordan. As you read this in Numbers, you sense it foreshadows trouble. These people were content to dwell outside the fullness of God's promised blessing—children of God by birth, but with one foot in the promised land and one foot outside.

It's a cautionary tale for us. We can be born of the Spirit and yet live like Reuben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh, with one foot in the things of God and one in the world. Both Testaments caution us: "How long will you falter between two opinions? Choose one." And, "I would that you were hot or cold, but don't be lukewarm." These gileadites are a picture of the lukewarm.

Jephthah: The Rejected Son

In 11:1 we meet Jephthah, a mighty man of valor—a strong, hard man—but the son of a harlot. We're introduced to two individuals: Gilead, his father, a notable man bearing the same name as the region, and Jephthah, his son. Living among the Ammonites and Moabites carried the danger of being seduced into Canaanite behavior, and that is exactly what we see. Jephthah's mother was most likely a Canaanite prostitute, perhaps a temple priestess of a pagan deity, since many pagan gods were worshiped through such immorality.

Gilead also had a wife who bore him sons. When those sons grew up, they drove Jephthah out, saying, "You shall have no inheritance in our father's house, for you are the son of another woman." They essentially called him the half-breed son of a harlot and wanted nothing to do with him. So Jephthah fled to the land of Tob, and worthless men banded together with him and went out raiding.

This reminds us of something many people have sadly experienced—our third point: sometimes God's people can be incredibly cruel. The New Living Translation calls these worthless men "worthless rebels," and the NIV calls them "a gang of scoundrels"—a perfect name for a punk band, with Jephthah as the lead singer. He turns, in a sense, to a life of crime, raiding and stealing.

Desperate Times, Pragmatic Choices

After a time the people of Ammon made war against Israel. The same situation of Judges 10 is happening: the Ammonites come against the eastern tribes, and God has not raised up a deliverer. So in verse 5, the elders of Gilead go to fetch Jephthah from the land of Tob—the very man they ran off. They were in a desperate situation, and you can imagine the conversation: "Who do we know who can fight for us?" "Well, there was that guy—Jephthah." "You mean the one we ran out of here?" "Yeah, he's a tough dude." Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Beware of pragmatism. When it seems God is not showing up, we get real pragmatic. The elders say, "Come, be our commander, that we may fight against the people of Ammon." There's a parallel here: Israel cried out to God and He didn't immediately deliver them, so now they cry out to Jephthah, the furthest thing from God they could find, hoping he will help.

I imagine this scene as a film: Jephthah and his gang of scoundrels lounging by the fire after a day of scoundrelly things, when the leaders of Gilead arrive. "How can I help you, gentlemen?" "Jephthah, we really need your help." And Jephthah cups his ear: "This is my bad ear—could you say that a little louder? I thought I heard you say you need my help." In verse 7 he answers, "Did you not hate me, and expel me from my father's house? Why have you come to me now when you are in distress?" Just as God responded with sarcasm, so does Jephthah.

Fixing It Ourselves Instead of Repenting

This leads to our fourth point: sometimes it seems easier to try to fix the problem yourself than to repent and wait upon God. Why didn't God show up? Perhaps because they had not fully turned to Him in faith and repentance, turning away from their idolatry. Instead they tried to fix the problem themselves.

Jephthah does some calculating: his stock has just gone up, the tables have turned. So he says in verse 9, "If you take me back home to fight, and the LORD delivers them to me, shall I be your head?" He doesn't just want to lead one battle—he wants to be their ruler. The elders answer, "The LORD will be witness between us if we do not do according to your words." So Jephthah goes with them, and they make him head and commander, and he speaks all his words before the LORD in Mizpah.

From verses 12 through 24, Jephthah functions as their head and as an ambassador to the king of the Ammonites, recounting the history between Ammon and Israel and arguing that the land was theirs by right. He says, in effect, "We've been here 300 years; you had all that time to dispute this." But in his speech it becomes clear that, though he knows his people's history, he does not truly recognize Yahweh as the one true God—just one God among many.

A Leader Who Did Not Know God

This brings us to our fifth and final point: sometimes the leaders we choose do not know God nearly as much as we assume. Jephthah knew the history and heritage of his people, but he did not know God. God in His grace will use him to deliver Israel from the Ammonites—but at what cost? That is the question.

The king of Ammon did not heed Jephthah's words, so the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah, and he advanced toward the people of Ammon. As he goes, we read in verse 30 that Jephthah made a vow to Yahweh: "If You will indeed deliver the people of Ammon into my hands, then whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace shall surely be the LORD's, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering."

One commentator writes, "There is little doubt that Jephthah's vow is nothing short of making a deal with a deity in an attempt to exert control over that deity—a practice familiar to pagans who believed in the manipulation of the gods for human purposes." This shows Jephthah is very culturally Canaanite, despite his Hebrew heritage—the product of a pagan relationship and a tribe content to live between two worlds, viewing Yahweh as just another god in the pantheon.

The Tragic Outcome

In verse 32, Jephthah advanced and the Lord delivered the Ammonites into his hands with a great slaughter. When he came home to Mizpah, his daughter came out to meet him with timbrels and dancing—and she was his only child. When he saw her, he tore his clothes and said, "Alas, my daughter! You have brought me very low... for I have given my word to the LORD, and I cannot go back on it."

If Jephthah were less affected by his Canaanite roots, he would have realized that Yahweh does not desire or accept human sacrifice. According to Deuteronomy 18 and Leviticus 20, and the provisions of the Torah, God had even made a way out of such a vow. But his daughter said, "My father, if you have given your word to the LORD, do to me according to what has gone out of your mouth." She asked only for two months to wander in the mountains and bewail her virginity with her friends, for she was unmarried and childless. At the end of two months she returned, and he carried out his vow; she knew no man.

There are two views on this passage. Some try to gloss over it, suggesting she merely lived the rest of her days as a virgin. You might make that case, but the Hebrew seems to indicate he carried out his vow—because he was more affected by his Canaanite culture than by the true and living God.

Living Set Apart

This is why it is so important that God calls us to be set apart, distinct, and different. It's easy to be seduced by the cultural trappings around us until we look no different than the world. As we move into chapter 12 next week, we'll see even bigger problems on the heels of this. It's a challenging reminder to live as close to God as possible, not on the line between Canaan and the things of God.

To be honest, as I studied this again, part of me wanted to skip to chapter 12 and not address this dark section. Someone came up after the first service and asked, "Do you really think he offered his daughter that way?" It seems that's what the text says—not as the Lord would have called. But it reminds us again to draw near to the Lord and be separate from the things of this world. God in His grace chooses to use crooked sticks to draw straight lines, sometimes in ways we can't understand. May we draw near to Him and walk closely with Him.

Closing Prayer

Father God, I pray that You would stir our hearts to draw near to You, that the things of this world would grow more and more dim as we draw closer and closer to You. It's true, Lord, You use us in spite of our many failures and inconsistencies, but You desire to transform us more and more into the likeness of Your children. I pray that my life and the lives of my brothers and sisters here this morning would be characterized more by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control than by the works of the flesh. God, do a work in us that we would be wholly set apart unto You, consecrated for You only, and that You would shine brightly through our lives. Do a work of continued sanctification in us, we pray. We ask this today in Jesus' name, and all those that agreed said amen.