Wanderers | Sunday, October 13, 2024
October 13, 2024 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
Judges 18 records how the tribe of Dan, refusing to take the difficult inheritance God gave them, sought an easier conquest, stole Micah's idol and priest, and massacred the peaceful people of Laish — illustrating what happens to a people with no moral governance and no contentment. Pastor Miles shows that we tend to wander when we are not planted, and that only God's grace, not a king, can cure a heart given to covetousness and self-centered religion.
- The repeated refrain "there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes" frames a culture with no agreed-upon moral compass — strikingly relevant to our own day.
- We tend to wander when we are not planted; Dan refused God's given inheritance because it was too difficult and chased something easier.
- When enough is not enough, restlessness leads to compromise, discontent, and disobedience; another man's lot always looks better when we are malcontent.
- Contentment is nearly impossible without God's strength (Philippians 4:11–13); covetousness drove both the danites and Micah's levite.
- Injustice thrives when might replaces righteousness — the danites used thug "justice" to keep what they stole and slaughtered the defenseless people of Laish.
- Spirituality is not genetically transferred: the idolatrous levite was a descendant of Moses, and only God's grace and gospel — not a king — can truly fix the human heart.
In those days there was no king in Israel; and everyone did what was right in his own eyes. (; 21:25) > > In those days there was no king in Israel. And at that time the tribe of the Danites was seeking an inheritance for itself to dwell in; for until that day their inheritance among the tribes of Israel had not fallen to them. ()
When a people lose their moral compass — and their contentment — they wander into compromise, idolatry, and injustice.
The Lay of the Land: From Abraham to the Judges
To understand , it helps to zoom out to the 50,000-foot view. In Genesis, God calls Abram at seventy-five years old, childless, and promises him descendants as numerable as the stars and the sand, along with a land. Abram trusts God, and the promise unfolds: Isaac, then Jacob, then Jacob's twelve sons — the twelve tribes of Israel. But by the end of Genesis the descendants of Israel are not in the promised land; they are in Egypt.
By Exodus, four hundred years later, they have grown into a great people but live as slaves under Pharaoh. They cry out, reminding God of His promise, and He sends Moses to deliver them. At Mount Sinai they enter into a covenant relationship — much like a marriage. God asks, in effect, "Will you be my people, and I will be your God?" and they answer, "Everything You have called us to, we will do."
Their obedience didn't last. They wandered forty years in the wilderness (Numbers), came to the border of Canaan, and Moses reaffirmed the covenant before his death (Deuteronomy). Joshua then led them across the Jordan to conquer the land. At the end of Joshua, Joshua declares, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord," and the people pledge the same.
Another Generation That Knew Not the Lord
Then Joshua dies, and we come to Judges. As tells us, "When all that generation had been gathered to their fathers, another generation arose after them who did not know the Lord nor the work which He had done for Israel." The children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord, forsook Him, and bowed down to other gods. That is the whole story of Judges. From the zoomed-out lineage we now move into the up-close snapshots of how Israel forsook the Lord.
Occasionally God raised up a deliverer — Barak, Samson, Gideon, Deborah. But in the final chapters, 17 through 21, no judge or deliverer is mentioned. We are simply given a picture of the moral and spiritual condition of the people.
It is easy to come on a Sunday and open a Bible to a history some 3,200 years old and wonder, "What does this have to do with me?" That is not a wrong question — and I hope, as we go through this text, we'll see real connections.
No King, No Compass
The condition of Israel is described in two verses that bookend this passage. and say identically: "In those days there was no king in Israel; and everyone did what was right in his own eyes." This same opening clause appears again in 18:1 and 19:1, and the author expects us to fill in the rest.
This was a period of about 300 to 350 years between the conquest under Joshua and the time Israel finally cried out, in 1 Samuel, "We want a king to rule over us." There was moral chaos and confusion. They were expected to govern themselves according to God's law, with judges to challenge and correct them — but it wasn't working, because everyone was doing what was right in their own eyes.
So Judges answers a question: what happens when a culture has no moral governance, no compass, no agreed-upon standard of right and wrong? If you were in the wilderness with no compass, what is the likelihood you'd get lost? We are living in days not all that dissimilar. People say, "Well, my truth is…" and I cringe — is there not the truth, an objective standard? In 2024 America and throughout Western culture, we have no agreed-upon moral or ethical standard.
This matters all the more now that artificial intelligence and large language models have been unleashed on our culture. Increasingly, decisions will be handed over to AI, yet few are asking what value system, what moral theory, what ethical standard will govern it — because we don't even have an agreed-upon standard ourselves. This has become the basis of my own doctoral research, the ethics of artificial intelligence. Israel faced the same fundamental problem in a different context: they were looking for someone to provide moral governance.
Micah, the Levite, and Self-Centered Religion
continues the story of chapter 17, where we met a man named Micah. He is a thief: he stole 1,100 shekels of silver — more than $60,000 worth — from his own mother. When she discovered it missing, she cursed the one who took it. Then Micah, perhaps sheepishly, confessed, and instantly her tune changed: "Blessed be you of the Lord, my son." She told him she had dedicated that silver to the Lord so that he could make an idol for them to worship God through.
The disregard for God's law here is staggering. These are covenant people who had received the Ten Commandments: "You shall have no other gods before Me," "You shall not make any carved image," "You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain," "You shall not steal," "You shall not covet." Micah and his mother blatantly break them all, then justify it — because in those days everyone did what was right in his own eyes.
Micah makes the idol and then hires a wandering Levite to serve as his personal priest. The Levite agrees because it suits him — a place to live and some money. So Micah ends up with a replica tabernacle in his home and a Levite to staff it, and concludes in , "Now I know the Lord will be good to me, since I have a Levite as priest." He had a human-centered view of devotion: I do the religious things, and therefore You owe me, God.
When someone outwardly performs loving, devoted acts only to get something in return, we call that prostitution. Micah had prostituted himself to God for personal gain. It is easy to point the finger and call him a fool — but when I look in the mirror of Scripture, I see myself. I am so easily seduced into serving God only for what I can get. That is a convicting story.
Dan's Refusal of God's Inheritance
The author reminds us again in 18:1: "In those days there was no king in Israel," and at that time the tribe of Dan was seeking an inheritance, "for until that day their inheritance among the tribes of Israel had not fallen to them." That is actually a half-truth. Before Joshua died, he divided Canaan to the tribes by lot, and Dan was given a portion right in the center of the nation.
So why don't they have it? explains: "The Amorites forced the children of Dan into the mountains, for they would not allow them to come down into the valley." Dan was given an inheritance but never took possession of it — because it was too hard. The enemies there were too strong, even though God had promised to fight for them and give them the land. They simply wanted an easier conquest, the path of least resistance.
Like Micah and the Levite, the danites are on a quest to find something new, better, and easier than what God has given them — and they're content to do whatever it takes. If getting ahead meant stealing from family, Micah stole; if it meant idolatry, they built a shrine; if it meant selling yourself, the Levite sold himself. Whatever it takes.
Point one: we tend to wander when we are not planted. Micah wasn't founded on God's word, the Levite wasn't planted in faithfulness, and the danites weren't planted in the land God gave them. They were not grateful for what God had given, not trusting Him to help them take it, not willing to take responsibility for it. As Paris Reidhead put it in his message Ten Shekels and a Shirt, they had "wanderlust" and an "itching foot" — always sure the grass is greener.
I've seen it many times, and maybe you have too: the job not good enough, the salary not high enough, the recognition not frequent enough, the house not big enough, the church not exciting enough, the spouse not enough. Point two: when enough is not enough, restlessness leads to compromise, discontent, and disobedience. Instead of being faithful to what God has given us and seeking His enabling power, we chase temporary, worldly fixes, assuming the next thing will be the better thing.
The Spies and the Lure of the Good Life
Five men of Dan set out to spy out the land (18:2–3). On their way they lodge at Micah's house and recognize the Levite by his accent. They ask, "Who brought you here? What are you doing in this place?" He answers that Micah hired him as priest. So they say, "Please inquire of God for us, that we may know whether our journey will be prosperous." The priest blesses them: "Go in peace. The presence of the Lord be with you on your way" (18:6).
They travel all the way to the northernmost tip of the land — actually beyond what God allotted to His people — and find a town called Laish. They saw a people "who dwelt safely… quiet and secure," with no rulers to shame them, far from anyone and with no ties to anyone (18:7). It looked like a beautiful, easy opportunity. Having been unwilling to take what God had given them, they now think they've found something better.
Point three: another man's lot always looks a lot better than ours when we're discontent and restless. This even happens in ministry. You go to a pastor's conference and meet the man who pastors thousands, and think, "It would be so much easier and greater if I had that." It's not bad for a church to grow — but it is bad if I break the tenth commandment, "You shall not covet."
The Apostle Paul hints that his biggest struggle was covetousness (–7), which helps explain his ambition and violence as Saul of Tarsus. The opposite of covetousness is contentment, and contentment is hard — almost impossible in myself. The famous verse, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (), comes in the context of contentment: "I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content" (4:11–12). Paul is saying contentment is very difficult without God's help. Many times over the years I've had to pray, "God, please help me to be content."
The March on Laish
The spies return and report, "Arise, let us go up against them, for we have seen the land, and indeed it is very good… When you go, you will come to a secure people in a large land. For God has given it into your hands, a place where there is no lack of anything that is on the earth" (18:8–10).
Everybody is seeking the good life. People define it differently, but there's a lot of overlap, and "a place where there is no lack of anything" sounds like the good life. When the property-tax bill comes, you don't say, "That's a bummer" — you say, "I have an abundance." Dan wanted that good life, and they justified themselves: God has given it into our hands, so it doesn't matter how we take it — even if it means the massacre of the innocent.
So 600 men armed for war set out (18:11). Many commentators agree Dan should have taken the land God actually gave them. They disagree about whether this northern conquest was legitimate. I'm of the opinion they were not justified, because they refused the inheritance God gave them and are now slaughtering a peaceful people.
Robbing Micah Along the Way
On the way they pass through the mountains of Ephraim again, and the five spies remember Micah's house. They tell their brothers, "Do you know that there is in these houses an ephod, household idols, a carved image, and a molded image? Now therefore, consider what you should do" (18:14). If they were following God's law, they would destroy these idolatrous things. Instead, the five spies enter and take the carved image, ephod, household idols, and molded image while the 600 armed men stand at the gate.
When the priest protests, "What are you doing?" they say, "Be quiet, put your hand over your mouth, and come with us; be a father and a priest to us. Is it better for you to be the priest of the household of one man, or that you be a priest to a tribe?" So "the priest's heart was glad." He took the ephod and the idols and went with the people (18:18–20).
Point four: compromise makes one happy to play the harlot when the offer arises. James says each one is tempted when drawn away by his own desires and enticed. The Levite was enticed by a better offer; the danites were happy to have a priest for their new ambition.
Thug Justice
Where is Micah? When the danites were a good way off, the men near Micah's house gathered and overtook them (18:22). Micah had come home — perhaps from a long day's work — to find his house ransacked. He rallied his neighbors, who likely worshiped at his shrine, and pursued the robbers, not knowing they would find 600 armed men.
When they catch up, the danites ask, "What ails you, that you have gathered such a company?" Micah answers, "You have taken away my gods which I made, and the priest, and you have gone away. Now what more do I have?" (18:24). It is the classic complaint of a man upset that someone stole what he himself had stolen. The danites reply, "Do not let your voice be heard among us, lest angry men fall upon you, and you lose your life, with the lives of your household" (18:25). That is thug justice — might makes right. Micah saw they were too strong for him and went home (18:26).
Point five: injustice thrives when might replaces righteousness. The danites came to Laish, struck the people with the sword, and burned the city. "There was no deliverer, because it was far from Sidon, and they had no ties with anyone" (18:28). They rebuilt the city and dwelt there, renaming it Dan, after their own tribe — though formerly it was Laish (18:29).
"The Rest of the Story"
The danites set up the carved image for themselves. You can visit the ruins of Dan today and see, as one of its most prominent features, the ancient altar likely built by these people — where, other Scriptures tell us, they worshiped a golden calf, taking us all the way back to Mount Sinai.
But here is the rest of the story. says, "Jonathan the son of Gershom, the son of Manasseh, and his sons were priests of the tribe of Dan until the day of the captivity of the land." In the Greek translation that name "Manasseh" reads differently. The Levite — named Jonathan — was the son of Gershom, the son of Moses. The same Moses who said, "You shall have no other gods… you shall not make any carved image." This idolatrous Levite was Moses's grandson, or at most a great-grandson, in the lineage of Moses.
That tells us something vital: spirituality, religiousness, and righteousness are not genetically transferred. They might be virally transmitted — caught, contagious — but you cannot assume that Moses's descendants will serve the Lord. They may in fact bring the worst form of idolatry into the land. How could this happen? In those days there was no king in Israel, and everyone did what was right in his own eyes.
The inclination is to say, "If only we had a king, everything would be fine." That's exactly how we think when our culture seems to decay. It will be Israel's inclination in 1 Samuel — and what we'll discover is that a king will not fix it. Only a work of God by His grace, His Spirit, and His gospel can. And somehow that seems relevant for 2024. I can't quite put my finger on it yet — maybe next week we'll see.
Closing Prayer
Father God, I pray that You would help us to learn from this text, even though it seems so far in time and distance from us. Would You speak to us from it and give us wisdom for how we ought to live in our day. Lord, help us — if there is any conviction in our hearts that we find ourselves following the pattern of Micah, the Levite, or the danites — to come to You and confess. We thank You that if we confess our sins, You are faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. When I look into the perfect law of liberty, the mirror that is the Scripture, I realize there are areas of my heart that need to be transformed. I thank You that You are able to sanctify, purify, and cleanse us from anything out of order with Your nature and Your word. I ask, God, that You would do that, and help me to be someone wholly dedicated and committed to You, and a light that shines in a dark place. I pray this today in Your name. Amen.
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