Commentary - Judges 5:28-30

Bird's-eye view

The Song of Deborah is a magnificent, blood-curdling celebration of a great victory God gave to Israel. It is not for the faint of heart, and it is certainly not for the theologically squeamish. This song is what happens when God’s people understand that He is a warrior who fights for them, and that His victories are to be celebrated with gusto. The final scene, which we have before us in these verses, is a dramatic shift in perspective. We are taken from the battlefield, where Jael has just put a tent peg through the head of God’s enemy, and we are transported to the palace of that same enemy. Here we find his mother, anxiously waiting for his return. This is not presented to evoke our pity for her, but rather to display the utter ruin of God’s enemies. Their hopes are not just defeated; they are held up to ridicule. The arrogance and proud boasting of the wicked are shown to be nothing but vapor. This is a song of triumph, and the triumph is highlighted by showing us the pathetic and self-deceiving hope of those who set themselves against the Lord and His anointed.

What we have here is a divinely inspired taunt. The Spirit of God, through Deborah, is mocking the worldly expectations of the Canaanites. They live for plunder, for conquest, for the abuse of others. And so, in their minds, a delay can only mean that the plunder is especially rich. The irony is thick and potent. While Sisera's mother imagines him dividing the spoils, his body is lying lifeless in a tent, a monument to the folly of defying the God of Israel. This scene serves as the final nail in the coffin of Canaanite pride, a stark reminder that those who wait for chariots and worldly power will be sorely disappointed. God’s judgment is not only final, but it is also poetic.

Outline

Context In Judges

The book of Judges describes a series of cycles: Israel sins, God sends an oppressor, the people cry out, and God raises up a deliverer, or a judge. This story is the high point of one of those cycles. Israel had been cruelly oppressed for twenty years by Jabin, king of Canaan, and his commander, Sisera, who had nine hundred chariots of iron. The people cried out to the Lord, and God raised up Deborah. Through her, God commanded Barak to go to war, promising victory. Barak obeyed, albeit with some hesitation, and God routed Sisera’s army. Sisera himself fled on foot and was executed by Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite.

Chapter 5 is the song that Deborah and Barak sang after this great victory. It is one of the oldest pieces of Hebrew poetry in the Bible. The song recounts the victory, praises the tribes that participated, and curses those who stayed home. It celebrates the righteous violence of Jael and concludes with this powerful, ironic scene in the enemy’s court. This ending is not an afterthought; it is the theological climax. It shows the ultimate end of all who oppose God: their proudest hopes turn to ash, and their confident expectations become a subject of holy mockery.

Key Issues

Verse by Verse Commentary

v. 28 “Out of the window she looked and lamented, The mother of Sisera through the lattice, ‘Why does his chariot delay in coming? Why do the hoofbeats of his chariots tarry?’

The scene opens with a picture of anxious expectation. Sisera’s mother is at the window, peering through the lattice work. This is a picture of privilege and power. She is not out in the fields; she is in a protected, decorated space, looking out for the return of her conquering son. Her lament is not one of godly sorrow, but of impatient desire. Her questions reveal her worldview. She does not ask, "Has something terrible happened?" Her question assumes victory. The delay is an inconvenience, a puzzle. Her confidence in her son and his iron chariots is absolute. This is the kind of pride that God loves to humble. She is looking for a symbol of worldly power, the chariot, but God had shown that chariots are nothing to Him. The hoofbeats she longs to hear have been silenced by the hand of God at the Kishon River. Her ear is tuned to the wrong frequency; she is listening for the sounds of earth, while heaven has already rendered its verdict.

v. 29 Her wise princesses would answer her, Indeed she repeats her words to herself,

Here we see the echo chamber of the wicked. She is surrounded by her "wise princesses," her ladies-in-waiting. Their wisdom is the wisdom of this world, which is foolishness with God. They offer a comforting, flattering explanation for the delay. But notice the second line: "Indeed she repeats her words to herself." This is a masterful touch. She is not really being comforted by them; she is participating in a group effort of self-deception. The answer they provide is the answer she wants to hear, and so she seizes it and says it to herself, trying to make it true by repetition. This is how ungodly hope works. It is not based on the promises of God, but on the desires of the heart, reinforced by the flattery of fools. They are all whistling past the graveyard, trying to convince themselves that their world is still intact.

v. 30 ‘Are they not finding, are they not dividing the spoil? A maiden, two maidens for every mighty man; To Sisera a spoil of dyed work, A spoil of dyed work embroidered, Dyed work of double embroidery on the neck of the spoil?’

And what is this comforting, self-deceiving answer? It is a vision of plunder. This is what is in their hearts. Victory, for them, means loot. Notice the callousness. The first thing that comes to mind is the capture and rape of young women: "a maiden, two maidens for every mighty man." This is not just a historical detail about the brutality of ancient warfare. This is a window into the soul of a culture that stands against God. They see other human beings, particularly women, as objects, as spoil to be divided. This is what God was judging. This is the evil that Jael’s tent peg put a stop to. While they are fantasizing about the violation of Israelite women, one woman, Jael, has brought their entire military enterprise to a bloody and ignominious end.

And then the vision turns to luxury goods. Sisera will get the best stuff, of course. Not just dyed work, but embroidered. Not just embroidered, but doubly embroidered. This is a picture of opulent, decadent materialism. Their minds are filled with images of fine fabrics for the "neck of the spoil," which could refer to the conqueror or the captured goods themselves. While they dream of fine linens, Sisera’s neck is getting stiff in death. The contrast is devastating. The hope of the wicked is centered on the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. And God delights in bringing it all to nothing. This song invites us to rejoice in that fact. It calls us to see the world from God’s perspective, where the proud are scattered in the imagination of their hearts, and the hopes of the ungodly are a thing to be mocked.

Application

We live in a sentimental age, an age that wants to file down the sharp edges of Scripture. A passage like this makes us uncomfortable, because we have been taught that we should try to find something to sympathize with in everyone. But the Bible does not teach this. It teaches us to hate what God hates, and to rejoice in what God rejoices in. And God rejoices in the downfall of arrogant evil.

The hope of Sisera’s mother is the hope of every Christless culture. It is a hope placed in military might, in economic prosperity, in sexual conquest, and in material luxury. It is a hope that is destined for disappointment. When we read this, we should examine our own hearts. Where are our hopes? Are they in the chariots of this world, our 401ks, our political candidates, our creature comforts? Or is our hope in the Lord who made heaven and earth?

This passage is a form of imprecatory prayer set to music. It is a righteous taunt against the enemies of God. We are to learn from it that it is right and good to long for the confusion of God’s enemies. We should pray that their counsels be turned to foolishness, that their proudest achievements become a laughingstock. Not because we are vindictive, but because we long for the glory of God to be seen. The glory of God is seen when the proud are brought low, and the humble are exalted. The song ends by saying, "So let all your enemies perish, O Lord! But let those who love him be like the sun when it rises in its strength." This is the great divide, and we are called to choose a side. May we be found on the side of the sun, and not on the side of the silenced chariots.