Commentary - Judges 16:4-22

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, we come to the catastrophic moral collapse of Samson, a man who was a walking paradox of spiritual calling and carnal appetite. The story of Samson and Delilah is not primarily a romance gone wrong; it is a stark illustration of how a man consecrated to God can be brought to ruin by toying with sin. Samson, whose strength was a direct result of his Nazirite vow, a covenant sign, treats that vow like a plaything. He is a man who can snap new ropes like thread but is utterly unable to govern his own passions.

Delilah, whose name is now synonymous with treacherous seduction, is simply the instrument the Philistines use to discover the secret of Samson's power. But the real conflict is internal. Samson is not defeated by Delilah's cunning or the Philistines' might; he is defeated by his own foolishness. He dances on the edge of the cliff, telling lie after lie, each one inching closer to the fatal truth. The climax is one of the most sobering verses in all of Scripture: "But he did not know that Yahweh had left him." His downfall is total: blindness, bondage, and humiliation. Yet, in the final verse, a seed of hope is planted. God's grace begins its slow work, even in the ruins of a self-destructed life.

Outline

Context In Judges

The book of Judges chronicles a dark and chaotic period in Israel's history, characterized by a repeating cycle: the people sin, God sends an oppressor to discipline them, the people cry out for deliverance, and God raises up a judge to save them. Samson is the last of the major judges, and his story represents the spiritual decay of the era. Unlike other judges who led armies, Samson is a solitary figure, a one-man wrecking crew against the Philistines. His miraculous birth and Nazirite calling set him apart as a man uniquely consecrated for God's purposes. However, his life is a tragic tale of squandered potential. This episode with Delilah is the culmination of a pattern of behavior seen earlier with the woman of Timnah and the prostitute in Gaza. Samson is a man at war with the enemies of God, but he consistently seeks intimacy in the enemy's camp. His fall is not a sudden event but the predictable end of a life lived in rebellion against his own sacred calling.

Key Issues

Verse by Verse Commentary

4 Now it happened afterwards that he loved a woman in the valley of Sorek, and her name was Delilah.

Samson's story is a repeating loop of being governed by his eyes and his appetites. He sees, he wants, he takes. "He loved" here is not the language of covenantal faithfulness but of infatuation and lust. He finds this woman in the valley of Sorek, which means "choice vine." For a Nazirite, who was forbidden from any product of the grapevine, the location is dripping with irony. He is settling down in the very heart of temptation, making his bed in the vineyard of his own downfall. Her name was Delilah. That is all we need to know.

5 And the lords of the Philistines came up to her and said to her, “Entice him, and see where his great strength lies and how we may overpower him that we may bind him to afflict him. Then we will each give you 1,100 pieces of silver.”

The world is always watching. The enemies of God see the compromised believer as an opportunity. They don't approach Samson directly; they go to his weakness, Delilah. Their request is straightforward: find the source of his strength so they can neutralize him. Notice their goals: overpower, bind, and afflict. This is what sin always promises to do. And the price is astronomical, a king's ransom. This shows us two things: how desperate the Philistines were, and how cheaply Delilah valued Samson. She is a hireling, and her love is for sale.

6-9 So Delilah said to Samson, “Please tell me where your great strength is...” But he snapped the cords as a string of tinder snaps when it touches fire. So his strength was still not known.

The game begins. Delilah's question is direct, yet Samson doesn't see the trap. He thinks he can play along. He is arrogant, confident that he can control the situation. His first lie involves seven fresh cords. He is toying with the sacred number seven, the number of his locks, the number of covenant completion. He is mocking his own consecration. When the trap is sprung, he breaks free with contemptuous ease. This initial success is dangerous. It hardens his heart and inflates his pride, making him think he is invincible. He believes he can manage his sin.

10-12 Then Delilah said to Samson, “Behold, you have deceived me...” But he snapped the ropes from his arms like a thread.

Round two. Delilah now employs the classic tactic of the manipulator: she plays the victim. "You have deceived me and told me lies." She accuses him of the very thing she is doing. The irony is thick. Samson, instead of waking up to the danger, plays along again. His second lie involves new ropes. The result is the same. He snaps the bonds effortlessly. He is still stronger than the Philistines' ropes, but he is getting weaker in his own resolve. He is being worn down, rope by rope, lie by lie.

13-14 Then Delilah said to Samson, “Up to now you have deceived me and told me lies; tell me how you may be bound.” ... he awoke from his sleep and pulled out the pin of the loom and the web.

The third test gets perilously close to the truth. Samson now brings the very sign of his Nazirite vow, his seven locks of hair, into the game. He tells her to weave them into a loom. This is breathtaking foolishness. He is taking the emblem of his relationship with God and weaving it into the machinery of his own destruction. He is asleep, both literally and spiritually, while Delilah does the work. When he awakes, he still has the strength to pull the whole apparatus apart. But he should be terrified. The enemy has now put her hands on the sign of his covenant, and he let her. He is completely blind to his peril.

15-17 Then she said to him, “How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when your heart is not with me?” ... So he told her all that was in his heart...

This is the final assault, and it is not on his body, but on his heart. Delilah uses the language of covenant love to break him. "How can you say, 'I love you,' when your heart is not with me?" This is the voice of the serpent, twisting the desire for intimacy into a tool of destruction. She pressed him daily. Sin is often a war of attrition. It is the constant, nagging pressure that wears down the soul until it is "annoyed to death." And so, he breaks. He tells her everything. He explains the Nazirite vow, the razor, the source of his separation unto God. He has handed the enemy the keys. He has betrayed his God for the affection of a treacherous woman.

18-19 And Delilah saw that he had told her all that was in his heart... she made him sleep on her knees... and his strength left him.

The enemy knows when the surrender is real. The money is delivered. The trap is set. The image of Samson sleeping on Delilah's knees is a grotesque parody of rest and intimacy. He is finding comfort in the lap of the one who is about to destroy him. While he sleeps, the barber comes and the seven locks, the sign of his covenant with God, are shorn off. Notice the text says, "she began to afflict him, and his strength left him." The power was gone before the Philistines even entered the room. The moment the covenant was broken, the blessing was removed.

20 And she said, “The Philistines are upon you, Samson!” And he awoke from his sleep and said, “I will go out as at other times and shake myself free.” But he did not know that Yahweh had left him.

This is one of the most chilling verses in the Bible. Samson wakes up and goes through the motions. He relies on past experience, on muscle memory. "I will go out as at other times." He is presuming upon the grace of God. He has become so comfortable with his sin, so accustomed to God's blessing despite his disobedience, that he cannot imagine it ever being removed. "But he did not know that Yahweh had left him." The presence of God is not a light switch we can flip on and off. By deliberately and finally severing the sign of his covenant, Samson had stepped outside the circle of God's manifest power. He was on his own, and he didn't even know it.

21 Then the Philistines seized him and gouged out his eyes; and they brought him down to Gaza and bound him with bronze chains, and he was a grinder in the prison.

The consequences are swift and brutal. The wages of sin is death, and here we see a living death. The man who was led by his lustful eyes is now blind. The man who could break any chain is now bound with bronze. The mighty judge of Israel, the champion of God, is now doing the work of an animal, grinding grain in a Philistine prison. This is where sin always leads: blindness, bondage, and utter humiliation. God is not mocked. What a man sows, that he will also reap.

22 However, the hair of his head began to grow again after it was shaved off.

But the story does not end in the darkness of that prison. Here, in this simple statement, is the gospel. "However..." God's grace is at work, even in the rubble. The hair begins to grow. This is not about magic hair. It is about the sign of the covenant being restored. It is a picture of God's patient, stubborn, redeeming grace. Samson's greatest failure will become the context for God's greatest victory through him. This small shoot of hair is a promise that God is not finished with His servant yet.

Application

The story of Samson is a cautionary tale for every believer. We are all consecrated to God, set apart by the blood of Christ. Our strength for life and godliness does not reside in ourselves, but in our covenant relationship with God. Samson's great sin was presumption. He thought he could play with sin, manage it, and still enjoy the blessing and power of God. He was tragically wrong.

We must learn to flee temptation, not flirt with it. We cannot make our bed in the valley of Sorek and expect to remain pure. We must guard our hearts, because the world, the flesh, and the devil will use our misplaced affections to destroy us. When we are pressed and "annoyed to death" by temptation, we must run to God, not surrender to the enemy.

And if we fall, as Samson did, we must remember that final verse. Our God is a God of restoration. His grace is greater than our sin. Even in the blindness and bondage of our own making, He can cause new life to grow. The path back begins with repentance, a turning away from the sin that ensnared us and a turning back to the God whose covenant love endures forever.