Bird's-eye view
We come now to the ugly conclusion of an ugly story. The book of Judges ends with Israel in a state of moral and spiritual freefall, and this final episode is the capstone. Having nearly annihilated the tribe of Benjamin for their depravity in Gibeah, the rest of Israel is now faced with the consequences of their own rash oath, an oath that prevents them from giving their daughters to the surviving Benjamites. Their solution is not to repent of their foolish vow, but rather to find a violent loophole. What follows is a brutal display of what happens when men, even God's covenant people, do what is right in their own eyes. They identify a city that failed to join their assembly, Jabesh-gilead, and visit upon it the same kind of destruction they brought against Benjamin. This is not righteous zeal; it is pragmatic butchery designed to solve a problem of their own making. This passage reveals a people who are zealous, but without knowledge; a people who can swing from near-genocidal rage to sentimental sorrow in a moment. It is a stark portrait of our own fallen nature, and it cries out for a true King to come and save us from ourselves.
Outline
- 1. The Problem of the Oath (Judg 21:1-7)
- 2. A Violent and Pragmatic Solution (Judg 21:8-15)
- a. Identifying the Offender: Jabesh-gilead (Judg 21:8-9)
- b. The Sentence of Destruction (Judg 21:10-11)
- c. A Remnant for a Remnant (Judg 21:12)
- d. A Fragile Peace and an Inadequate Provision (Judg 21:13-14)
- e. Sorrow Over a Breach Made by God (Judg 21:15)
- 3. A Final, Lawless Solution (Judg 21:16-25)
Context In Judges
This passage is the climax, or rather the anti-climax, of the entire book of Judges. The refrain, "In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes," finds its most potent illustration here. The civil war against Benjamin (chapter 20) is over, but the consequences are just beginning to unfold. Israel has acted as the Lord's instrument of judgment against the wicked men of Gibeah and the tribe that protected them. But in their zeal, they have overstepped with a foolish oath. This chapter shows us that the heart of Israel is just as corrupt as the heart of Benjamin. Their attempts to "fix" the problem only dig them deeper into sin. This is the final demonstration that Israel does not need a better strategy or a new committee; they need a Messiah, a righteous King who will not just judge sin but will atone for it and deliver His people from its power.
Key Issues
- Corporate Guilt and Punishment
- The Nature of Rash Oaths
- The Perversion of Holy War (Herem)
- The Sovereignty of God in Human Sin
- The Desperate Need for a King
Commentary (Clause-by-Clause)
8 So they said, “What one is there of the tribes of Israel who did not come up to Yahweh at Mizpah?” And behold, no one had come to the camp from Jabesh-gilead to the assembly.
Israel is in a self-inflicted bind. They have sworn before God not to give their daughters to Benjamin, but they also recognize that this will wipe a tribe out of Israel. So, they begin to reason like fallen men. Instead of repenting of their oath, they look for someone else to punish. The question is a legal one. The assembly at Mizpah was not a casual get-together; it was a formal summons by Yahweh for the covenant nation to act as His judicial agent. To refuse this summons was an act of high treason. It was to functionally secede from the nation of Israel. They do a roll call, and they find their scapegoat: Jabesh-gilead.
9 Indeed the people were numbered, but behold, not one of the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead was there.
The fact is confirmed. This is not a rumor. A formal census, a numbering, proves the guilt of the city. In the economy of the Old Covenant, solidarity was everything. The individual did not exist apart from his family, his clan, his tribe, his city. The entire city of Jabesh-gilead had thumbed its nose at the rest of the nation, and by extension, at Yahweh who had called the assembly. Their absence was a loud declaration of rebellion.
10 And the congregation sent 12,000 of the men of valor there and commanded them, saying, “Go and strike the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead with the edge of the sword, with the women and the little ones.
The sentence is passed, and it is brutal. The congregation, acting as the government, sends a detachment of the army, a thousand men from each tribe, to execute judgment. The command is to put everyone to the sword, including women and children. This is the language of herem, or holy war, the kind of judgment commanded against the Canaanites. The crime of Jabesh-gilead is considered so severe that it warrants total annihilation. They had broken covenant in the most profound way, and the penalty for breaking covenant is death. This is not mob violence; it is a formal, though horrific, act of capital punishment on a corporate scale.
11 Now this is the thing that you shall do: you shall devote to destruction every man and every woman who has known, that is lain with, a man.”
And here we see the corrupt, pragmatic twist. True herem was about utterly devoting something to the Lord, removing it from human use. But Israel here modifies the terms. They are not simply executing judgment; they are harvesting wives. They introduce a loophole that serves their own purposes. Every male is to be killed, and every woman who is not a virgin is to be killed. This is a grotesque utilitarianism. They are using the tool of divine judgment to solve their political problem. It shows how far they have fallen. They are wielding the sword of God, but for their own ends.
12 And they found among the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead 400 young virgins who had not known a man by lying with him; and they brought them to the camp at Shiloh, which is in the land of Canaan.
The mission is grimly successful. The army returns, not with plunder of gold and silver, but with 400 young women, now orphans, whose families have just been slaughtered by these very men. They are brought to Shiloh, the religious center of Israel, where the Tabernacle was. This juxtaposition of horrific violence and the center of worship is jarring. It highlights the spiritual blindness of the people. They believe they are doing something necessary, perhaps even righteous, while engaging in an act of calculated brutality. These 400 virgins are a remnant, saved from the destruction, but saved for a purpose that has nothing to do with their own well being.
13 Then the whole congregation sent word and spoke to the sons of Benjamin who were at the rock of Rimmon and called out peace to them.
With the "brides" now secured, the congregation makes an overture of peace to the surviving Benjamites, who are holed up in their mountain fortress. The whiplash is severe. One moment, they are hunting these men down to kill them. The next, they are offering shalom. This is not the peace that comes from repentance and reconciliation. This is the peace of pragmatism. "We have a solution to our mutual problem." It is a man-made peace, and like all man-made peace, it is built on a foundation of violence and compromise.
14 Then Benjamin returned at that time, and they gave them the women whom they had kept alive from the women of Jabesh-gilead; yet they did not find enough for them.
The transaction is completed. The remnant of Benjamin accepts the offer and returns from their exile. The 400 women of Jabesh-gilead are handed over. They are treated as chattel, spoils of war to be distributed. And even after all this bloodshed, the solution is inadequate. The math doesn't work. There are 600 Benjamite men and only 400 women. Man's best and most brutal efforts to fix his own sin always come up short. The ledger never quite balances.
15 And the people were sorry for Benjamin because Yahweh had made a breach in the tribes of Israel.
Here, at the end, is the theological conclusion of the matter. The people felt pity, or repented, for Benjamin. And the reason given is crucial: "because Yahweh had made a breach." They finally, dimly, recognize the sovereign hand of God in this calamity. This was not just a series of unfortunate events or political miscalculations. God Himself had torn a hole in the fabric of His people. Their sin, from Gibeah to Mizpah, had consequences, and God was the one who brought those consequences to bear. He is the Lord of history, and He governs all things, even the sinful and chaotic actions of His people. Their sorrow is appropriate, but it is a sorrow that comes after the fact, a sorrow that led them to more sin instead of to true repentance. This breach in Israel is a picture of the breach that sin makes between God and man, a breach that no amount of human scheming or violence can fix. Only the Son of God, broken for us, can heal such a wound.
Application
The end of Judges is a dark and bloody mirror. When we look into it, we see our own hearts. We see what happens when human beings are left to their own devices, when they attempt to solve the problem of sin with more sin. We are masters of the pragmatic atrocity, the necessary evil. We justify our own foolishness and compound our own errors, all while perhaps thinking we are serving God.
This passage drives us to one central conclusion: we need a King. We don't just need a leader, but a Savior. The men of Israel tried to provide brides for a remnant through slaughter and abduction. This is a grotesque and twisted type, a dark shadow, of what our true King does. Christ, the heavenly bridegroom, secures His bride, the Church, not by killing others, but by being killed Himself. He does not seize His bride by force; He wins her by love and sacrificial death.
The breach in the tribes of Israel was made by Yahweh because of their sin. The breach between us and God is also made by our sin. And God Himself is the one who heals it. He does not offer a partial, inadequate solution. He sends His own Son to be broken in our place, to heal the breach forever. The peace He offers is not a fragile, man-made truce, but an everlasting covenant sealed in His own blood. Where Israel's best efforts fell short, Christ's work is gloriously sufficient.