Bird's-eye view
This passage presents us with the first parable in Scripture, a blistering piece of political and theological commentary delivered by Jotham, the sole surviving son of Gideon. Having just witnessed the men of Shechem collude with the usurper Abimelech to murder his seventy brothers, Jotham ascends Mount Gerizim, the mountain of blessing, to pronounce a curse. The central device is a fable about trees seeking a king. The productive, valuable trees (olive, fig, and vine) all refuse the offer, as their God-given purpose is to produce fruit that honors both God and man, not to "wave over" the other trees. The only one willing to take the crown is the worthless, grasping bramble. Jotham then masterfully applies this fable directly to the treacherous deal between Abimelech and the lords of Shechem. He places their actions under the piercing light of God's covenant law, invoking the standards of truth and integrity. The entire speech is a formal covenant lawsuit, culminating in a self-maledictory curse: if their deal was righteous, let them prosper; but if not, let them be consumed by a fire of their own making. This is not merely a story about bad politics; it is a profound illustration of the principle that when a people reject fruitful, servant-hearted leadership, they inevitably get the tyrant they deserve.
The core issue is the nature of authority and rule. The fruitful trees understand their calling. Their value is in what they produce, in their service. The bramble, having no fruit, can only offer a parody of protection ("take refuge in my shade") and a threat of destruction. Abimelech is the bramble. He offers nothing of substance, only grasping ambition and violence. The men of Shechem, in choosing him, have chosen style over substance, bravado over blessing, and a thorn bush over an orchard. Jotham's curse, therefore, is not a simple wish for revenge; it is a prophetic declaration of the inevitable consequences that flow from such a wicked and foolish choice. God's world is a moral world, and when men sow treachery, they will reap a harvest of fire.
Outline
- 1. The Covenant Lawsuit from the Mountain (Judges 9:7-21)
- a. The Summons from the Mount of Blessing (Judges 9:7)
- b. The Parable of the Trees (Judges 9:8-15)
- i. The Quest for a King (Judges 9:8a)
- ii. The Refusal of the Olive Tree: Fruitfulness over Dominion (Judges 9:8b-9)
- iii. The Refusal of the Fig Tree: Sweetness over Dominion (Judges 9:10-11)
- iv. The Refusal of the Vine: Gladness over Dominion (Judges 9:12-13)
- v. The Acceptance of the Bramble: Worthlessness and Threat (Judges 9:14-15)
- c. The Application of the Parable (Judges 9:16-20)
- i. The Test of Covenant Fidelity (Judges 9:16-18)
- ii. The Pronouncement of the Curse (Judges 9:19-20)
- d. The Escape of the Prophet (Judges 9:21)
Context In Judges
The book of Judges charts the downward spiral of Israel after the death of Joshua. It is a repeating cycle of sin, oppression, repentance, and deliverance. The refrain, "everyone did what was right in his own eyes," characterizes the era. The story of Abimelech in chapter 9 represents a new low. For the first time, the oppressor is not a foreign power but an Israelite, a son of the great judge Gideon (also called Jerubbaal). This is a civil war, a self-inflicted wound. Gideon himself had famously refused kingship, declaring, "The LORD will rule over you" (Judges 8:23). But his son Abimelech, born of a concubine from Shechem, has no such humility. He leverages his maternal connections, secures funding from a pagan temple (Baal-berith, "Baal of the covenant"), and systematically murders his seventy brothers to eliminate all rivals. This chapter, then, is the tragic fruit of Gideon's own compromises, his multiple wives and his making of the golden ephod. Jotham's fable and curse stand as the lone prophetic voice against this utter apostasy, setting the stage for the divine judgment that will unfold and consume both the worthless king and his faithless subjects.
Key Issues
- The Nature of Legitimate Rule
- Fruitfulness vs. Ambition
- Covenant Oaths and Curses
- Corporate Responsibility
- The Inevitable Results of Apostasy
- Prophetic Speech as Judgment
- The Symbolism of Mount Gerizim
The Politics of Thorns
What we have in Jotham's fable is a masterful piece of political theology. The central question is this: what makes a good ruler? Our modern world, like ancient Shechem, is easily impressed by the wrong things. We like swagger, promises of security, and the illusion of strength. The bramble offers this. It is prickly, aggressive, and makes bold claims. But it is useless. It bears no fruit, provides no real shade, and is dangerously flammable. It takes, but it does not give.
The olive, fig, and vine represent a different kind of polity altogether. Their authority is not in their ability to "wave over" others, a wonderful Hebrew idiom for domineering rule. Their authority is in their fruitfulness. They are valuable because they serve. The olive provides oil for anointing and light, honoring God and man. The fig provides sweetness and sustenance. The vine provides wine that brings gladness to God and man. This is servant leadership in its truest sense. It is not about abdicating authority, but about exercising authority for the good of others. True leadership is generative, productive, and life-giving. Tyranny, like the bramble, is parasitic and ultimately self-destructive. The men of Shechem chose the bramble, and Jotham, standing on the mountain of blessing, tells them they will get burned. This is a timeless lesson. When a people demand a king who will make them feel secure, rather than a king who will make them be righteous, they will always get a bramble.
Verse by Verse Commentary
7 Then they told Jotham, so he went and stood on the top of Mount Gerizim and lifted his voice and called out. Thus he said to them, “Listen to me, O lords of Shechem, that God may listen to you.
Jotham, the lone survivor of a political massacre, does not go into hiding to plot a quiet revenge. He goes public. He ascends Mount Gerizim, which is a location fraught with covenantal significance. This was the mountain from which the blessings of the law were to be pronounced (Deut. 11:29). By standing here, Jotham is acting as a true son of the covenant, a prophet of God. He is not just an aggrieved brother; he is bringing a formal lawsuit. His opening summons is a classic piece of biblical rhetoric: "Listen to me... that God may listen to you." This is the principle of covenant reciprocity. If you refuse to listen to the voice of God's prophet, do not expect God to listen to your prayers when the calamity you have chosen comes upon you. He is demanding a hearing on the basis of God's own established order.
8-9 The trees surely went forth to anoint a king over them, and they said to the olive tree, ‘Reign over us!’ But the olive tree said to them, ‘Shall I leave my fatness, with which God and men are honored, and go to wave over the trees?’
The parable begins. The trees, representing a body politic, want a king. Their first choice is a good one: the olive tree. The olive was a source of immense blessing in the ancient world. Its oil was used for food, for light in the sanctuary, for medicine, and for anointing priests and kings. It was a symbol of peace, stability, and divine favor. The olive tree's response is key. It asks a rhetorical question that exposes the folly of grasping for political power. Why should it abandon its God-given, fruitful function, its "fatness", just for the empty honor of "waving over" the other trees? The olive tree understands its calling. Its purpose is to produce, to bless, to honor God and man. To abandon that for the sake of raw ambition would be a dereliction of duty.
10-11 Then the trees said to the fig tree, ‘You come, reign over us!’ But the fig tree said to them, ‘Shall I leave my sweetness and my good produce and go to wave over the trees?’
Rebuffed by the olive, the trees turn to the fig tree. The fig was another staple of the good life, a symbol of peace and prosperity. To "sit under one's vine and fig tree" was the biblical ideal of shalom (1 Kings 4:25). The fig provides sweetness, nourishment, and joy. Its response echoes that of the olive. Shall I abandon my actual, tangible contribution to the world, my sweetness and good fruit, for the sake of political preening? Again, the answer is a clear no. The productive member of society sees political ambition for what it often is: a distraction from the real work of building a culture, which is done through fruitful labor.
12-13 Then the trees said to the vine, ‘You come, reign over us!’ But the vine said to them, ‘Shall I leave my new wine, which makes God and men glad, and go to wave over the trees?’
The third candidate is the vine. Wine in Scripture is a symbol of joy and celebration. It "makes glad the heart of man" (Ps. 104:15). Sacrificial libations of wine were also poured out to God, so it was a source of gladness for both heaven and earth. The vine, like the others, understands its purpose. Its glory is not in ruling, but in producing joy. To forsake this calling for the sake of "waving over" the others would be to trade substance for shadow. These three trees together represent the best of what a society can be: honorable, sweet, and joyful. They represent godly men like Gideon in his prime, who understand that true greatness lies in service, not in status.
14-15 Then all the trees said to the bramble, ‘You come, reign over us!’ And the bramble said to the trees, ‘If in truth you are anointing me as king over you, come and take refuge in my shade; but if not, may fire come out from the bramble and consume the cedars of Lebanon.’
Having been turned down by all the worthy candidates, the trees make a desperate and foolish choice. They turn to the bramble, a worthless thornbush. It produces no fruit. It provides no timber. It is a nuisance. And unlike the noble trees, the bramble is more than willing to be king. Its acceptance speech is a perfect distillation of tyranny. First, there is the pretense of offering protection: "come and take refuge in my shade." This is a laughable offer. A bramble provides no meaningful shade. It is a false promise of security from a source that has none to give. Second, there is the immediate threat. The bramble's acceptance is conditional and laced with menace: "but if not, may fire come out from the bramble and consume the cedars of Lebanon." The bramble, being dry and flammable, is good for nothing but starting fires. It threatens to destroy even the greatest and noblest of trees, the cedars of Lebanon. This is the political platform of Abimelech: follow me in "truth" (a word he has no right to use), and I will give you a worthless security; cross me, and I will burn everything down.
16-18 “So now, if you have dealt in truth and integrity and made Abimelech king, and if you have dealt well with Jerubbaal and his house and have dealt with him according to the bountiful works of his hands, for my father fought for you and risked his life and delivered you from the hand of Midian; but you have risen against my father’s house today and have killed his sons, seventy men, on one stone, and have made Abimelech, the son of his maidservant, king over the lords of Shechem, because he is your relative,
Jotham now drops the parable and applies it with surgical precision. He puts the men of Shechem on trial. The charge is a breach of covenant faithfulness, what the Bible calls "truth and integrity." He lays out the evidence. First, the goodness of his father, Gideon (Jerubbaal). Gideon risked his life to deliver them. They owed him a debt of gratitude and loyalty. Second, their heinous response. They have risen up against their benefactor's house and participated in the systematic slaughter of his seventy sons. Third, their motive for making Abimelech king. It was not based on character or merit, but on crass tribalism: "he is your relative." They elevated the son of a maidservant, a man of no standing, over the legitimate heirs of their deliverer, simply because his mother was from their town. This was a complete betrayal of justice and covenant loyalty.
19-20 if then you have dealt in truth and integrity with Jerubbaal and his house this day, be glad in Abimelech, and let him also be glad in you. But if not, let fire come out from Abimelech and consume the lords of Shechem and Beth-millo; and let fire come out from the lords of Shechem and from Beth-millo and consume Abimelech.”
Here is the curse, framed as a conditional outcome. Jotham speaks with biting irony. "If you have acted righteously, then by all means, enjoy your new king. May your relationship be a happy one." This is the blessing portion of the covenant sanction, offered with the full knowledge that they do not qualify for it. Then comes the curse, which directly mirrors the threat of the bramble in the parable. "But if not..." and of course they have not. If you have acted treacherously, then let the very fire you have kindled consume you. Let Abimelech turn on you, and let you turn on Abimelech. Let your unholy alliance devour itself. This is not just Jotham wishing them ill. This is a prophetic declaration of how God's moral universe operates. Treachery is inherently unstable. A political order built on murder and betrayal will eventually collapse into a fire of mutual destruction.
21 Then Jotham escaped and fled and went to Beer and remained there because of Abimelech his brother.
Having delivered his message, the prophet flees. He has spoken the truth from the mountain of blessing, but the valley below is not yet ready to receive it. He has planted the seed of God's judgment, and now he must withdraw and let it grow. His work is done. The curse has been pronounced, and the rest of the chapter will be the grim historical record of its fulfillment. Jotham disappears from the narrative, his faithfulness a stark contrast to the treachery of his brother and the foolishness of Shechem.
Application
Jotham's fable is a perennial word for the people of God. We are constantly tempted to choose a bramble for a king. We do this whenever we value political expediency over righteousness, whenever we are seduced by promises of security from men who have no fear of God, and whenever we elevate leaders based on charisma and swagger rather than on proven fruitfulness and integrity.
The church is called to be an orchard of olive trees, fig trees, and vines. Our leaders, particularly our elders and fathers, are to be men who reject the allure of "waving over" others and instead embrace the hard, patient work of cultivating fruit that honors God and blesses those around them. We are to be known for our fatness, our sweetness, and our joy. When we look to the state, we must not ask for a bramble to protect us. We should desire godly magistrates who understand that their role is to punish evil and praise good, creating a stable environment where fruitful people can flourish.
But ultimately, this passage points us to the one true King who did not grasp at power. Jesus Christ is the true vine, the source of all joy. He is the one who, though He was King of all, did not come to wave over us, but to serve us and give His life as a ransom for many. Unlike the bramble, He offers true refuge. Unlike Abimelech, He builds His kingdom not by shedding the blood of His brothers, but by shedding His own blood for them. The choice before every generation is the same choice that faced Shechem. Will we anoint a bramble, a son of man who promises the world and delivers only fire? Or will we bow the knee to the Son of God, who laid down His life and now offers us the fruit of eternal life?