Judges 11:1-11

God's Use of Cast-Off Men Text: Judges 11:1-11

Introduction: The Stone the Builders Rejected

The book of Judges is a raw and rugged account of Israel's downward spiral. The refrain of the book is that "everyone did what was right in his own eyes," and the results were predictably disastrous. But in the middle of this grim landscape, God continually raises up deliverers, saviors for His people. And the striking thing about these saviors is that they are almost never the men you would pick. They are left-handed assassins, fearful farmers hiding in winepresses, and in our text today, a social outcast, the son of a prostitute, rejected by his own family.

This is a foundational principle of God's economy. He delights in using the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He picks up the stones that the builders reject and makes them the head of the corner. This is not just a quaint biblical theme; it is the very structure of the gospel. The ultimate rejected stone, of course, is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and we esteemed Him not. And yet, it was through His rejection that our salvation was accomplished.

The story of Jephthah is a story of God's sovereign grace reaching down into the mess of human sin and folly. It is a story of profound hypocrisy, desperate negotiations, and the elevation of a flawed man to a place of leadership. It shows us that God's purposes are not thwarted by our messy genealogies or our checkered pasts. In fact, He often uses those very things to display His power. We live in a world that is obsessed with pedigrees, resumes, and respectability. But God is in the business of picking up rough-hewn, discarded men and using them for His glory. This should be a profound encouragement to us, because we are all, in one way or another, cast-off men. We are all sons of a harlot, spiritually speaking, born outside the covenant of promise until Christ found us.


The Text

Now Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty man of valor, but he was the son of a harlot. And Gilead became the father of Jephthah. And Gilead’s wife bore him sons; and when his wife’s sons grew up, they drove Jephthah out and said to him, “You shall not have an inheritance in our father’s house, for you are the son of another woman.” So Jephthah fled from his brothers and lived in the land of Tob; and worthless fellows gathered themselves about Jephthah, and they went out with him. Now it happened after a while that the sons of Ammon fought against Israel. So it happened that as the sons of Ammon fought against Israel, the elders of Gilead went to get Jephthah from the land of Tob; and they said to Jephthah, “Come and be our chief that we may fight against the sons of Ammon.” Then Jephthah said to the elders of Gilead, “Did you not hate me and drive me from my father’s house? So why have you come to me now when you are in distress?” And the elders of Gilead said to Jephthah, “For this reason we have now returned to you, that you may go with us and fight with the sons of Ammon and become head over all the inhabitants of Gilead.” So Jephthah said to the elders of Gilead, “If you take me back to fight against the sons of Ammon and Yahweh gives them up to me, will I become your head?” And the elders of Gilead said to Jephthah, “Yahweh is witness between us; surely we will do as you have said.” Then Jephthah went with the elders of Gilead, and the people made him head and chief over them; and Jephthah spoke all his words before Yahweh at Mizpah.
(Judges 11:1-11 LSB)

A Mighty Man with a Tainted Past (vv. 1-3)

We begin with the introduction of our protagonist.

"Now Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty man of valor, but he was the son of a harlot. And Gilead became the father of Jephthah. And Gilead’s wife bore him sons; and when his wife’s sons grew up, they drove Jephthah out and said to him, 'You shall not have an inheritance in our father’s house, for you are the son of another woman.' So Jephthah fled from his brothers and lived in the land of Tob; and worthless fellows gathered themselves about Jephthah, and they went out with him." (Judges 11:1-3)

The text immediately establishes a tension. Jephthah is a "mighty man of valor." This is high praise. It's the same description given to Gideon and Boaz. He has character, courage, and martial skill. But this commendation is immediately followed by the great "but" of his life: "he was the son of a harlot." His father, Gilead, had an illegitimate son. This was not Jephthah's fault, but it was his shame. It was the stain on his identity that defined how others saw him.

When Gilead's legitimate sons grew up, they acted on this prejudice. They drove Jephthah out, disinheriting him with cold, legalistic cruelty. Their motive was greed, plain and simple, dressed up in the robes of social propriety. "You are the son of another woman." They used his parentage as a weapon to secure a larger inheritance for themselves. This is a picture of the world's system. It judges by externals, by bloodlines, by things over which a person has no control. It is a system of works-righteousness applied to social standing.

So Jephthah becomes an outcast. He flees to the land of Tob, a place outside the ordered society of Israel. And there, he attracts a following. The text says "worthless fellows gathered themselves about Jephthah." The Hebrew here means "empty men." These were other outcasts, men without property, without prospects, without a place in respectable society. They were likely debtors, fugitives, and malcontents. But in this band of misfits, Jephthah's leadership qualities shine. He becomes a sort of Robin Hood figure, leading raids and forging a formidable fighting force out of society's rejects.

This is a crucial pattern. The man God intends to use is first rejected by his own people. Joseph was thrown into a pit by his brothers. Moses was driven out of Egypt. David was hunted by Saul. And Christ Himself came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. God often prepares a man for leadership by first leading him into the wilderness of rejection. It is there, away from the comforts and corruptions of the establishment, that true strength and reliance upon God are forged.


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures (vv. 4-8)

The scene shifts. The Ammonites, perennial enemies of Israel, are making war. And suddenly, the respectable elders of Gilead find themselves in a bind.

"So it happened that as the sons of Ammon fought against Israel, the elders of Gilead went to get Jephthah from the land of Tob; and they said to Jephthah, 'Come and be our chief that we may fight against the sons of Ammon.' Then Jephthah said to the elders of Gilead, 'Did you not hate me and drive me from my father’s house? So why have you come to me now when you are in distress?' And the elders of Gilead said to Jephthah, 'For this reason we have now returned to you...'" (Judges 11:5-8)

Notice the bitter irony. The very men who likely sanctioned or at least permitted Jephthah's expulsion are now knocking on his door. Why? Because they are in trouble. Their comfortable, respectable world is threatened, and they realize they don't have a "mighty man of valor" among them. Their piety and social standing are useless against the Ammonite army. They need a fighter. They need the man they threw away.

This is a picture of rank hypocrisy and pragmatism. Their principles only extend as far as their prosperity. When their lives and property are on the line, their previous objections to Jephthah's birthright vanish into thin air. They are not coming to him out of repentance. They are not apologizing for their sin. They are coming to him out of sheer, self-interested desperation.

Jephthah, rightly, calls them on it. "Did you not hate me and drive me from my father’s house? So why have you come to me now when you are in distress?" He exposes their hypocrisy with a sharp, pointed question. He is not just a blunt instrument for them to use and discard. He understands their motives perfectly. Their answer is telling. They don't deny their past actions. They simply say, "For this reason we have now returned to you." In other words, "Yes, we drove you out. But now we need you. Our desperation is the reason for our return." It is a confession of utility, not a confession of sin.


The Covenant at Mizpah (vv. 9-11)

Jephthah is in a position of strength, and he uses it to negotiate a binding agreement. He is not going to be their disposable hero.

"So Jephthah said to the elders of Gilead, 'If you take me back to fight against the sons of Ammon and Yahweh gives them up to me, will I become your head?' And the elders of Gilead said to Jephthah, 'Yahweh is witness between us; surely we will do as you have said.' Then Jephthah went with the elders of Gilead, and the people made him head and chief over them; and Jephthah spoke all his words before Yahweh at Mizpah." (Judges 11:9-11)

Jephthah lays out his terms. He is not just asking to be a temporary military commander. He demands to be their "head," their permanent ruler. The outcast will now rule over those who cast him out. This is a stunning reversal of fortune, and it is a picture of divine justice. The stone the builders rejected is being offered as the cornerstone.

Notice Jephthah's theology. He says, "If Yahweh gives them up to me." He recognizes that victory comes from the Lord. Despite his rough life and questionable companions, he has a grasp of God's sovereignty that the "respectable" elders seem to lack. They are trusting in a man, a mighty warrior. Jephthah is trusting in Yahweh to give him the victory.

The elders agree, and they seal their agreement with a solemn oath, calling on God as a witness. "Yahweh is witness between us." They are making a covenant. The deal is struck, and the people ratify it. Jephthah, the son of a harlot, is now the head and chief in Gilead. The final sentence is crucial: "and Jephthah spoke all his words before Yahweh at Mizpah." This was not just a political deal. Jephthah brings the entire agreement into the presence of God. He is placing himself, his new position, and his upcoming battle under the authority and blessing of Yahweh. He is consecrating his leadership to the Lord.


The Gospel for Outcasts

This story is a powerful illustration of the gospel. In our natural state, we are all Jephthahs. We are sons of a harlot. Our mother is the fallen Eve, and through her, we are born into sin, outside the house of God, with no rightful inheritance. We are spiritual bastards, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise (Ephesians 2:12).

And the respectable world, the world of the self-righteous, casts us out. The law condemns us. Our sin separates us. We are driven into the land of Tob, a place of exile and emptiness. We gather to ourselves "worthless fellows", our own sins, our own follies, our own rebellions.

But then the enemy comes. The Ammonites of sin, death, and the devil lay siege to the human race. And the respectable systems of this world, the moralism, the religion, the self-help, are all powerless. In their distress, they have nowhere to turn. And God, in His astonishing grace, provides a deliverer. He provides His own Son, Jesus Christ.

And who was Jesus? He was the ultimate outcast. He was born in a stable because there was no room for him in the inn. He was from Nazareth, from which nothing good was thought to come. He was called a friend of tax collectors and sinners. His own brothers did not believe in Him. He was rejected by the elders of Israel, the chief priests, and the scribes. They cast Him out of the city and crucified Him.

But God took this rejected stone and made Him the head of the corner. He raised Him from the dead and made Him head over all things for the church (Ephesians 1:22). And now, this rejected Savior is the only one who can deliver us from our enemies. He is the only one who can lead us into the inheritance we had forfeited. When we are in distress, when we are besieged by our sin, we must do what the elders of Gilead did, but we must do it with true repentance. We must go to the one we have rejected and say, "Be our chief. Be our head. Save us."

And when we do, He does not just become a temporary captain. He becomes our everlasting Head. He makes a covenant with us, sealed not with a simple oath, but with His own blood. He takes us, the worthless fellows, the sons of a harlot, and He gives us His name, His inheritance, and His Father's house. He takes the outcasts and makes them sons.