What Makes Israel Desire a King?
Jackson Wilson
Executive Students Pastor
November 16, 2024
Judges 19-21 records a blight upon Israel, concluding the text of this book in a most painful, shocking, grievous manner. It’s a fitting close to a book marked by the great need of mankind for God, and as we begin this journey together through these chapters, we will evaluate the story and ask the question: where is God, and what lesson are we to glean from this dark moment in history?
They are deeply depraved As in the days of Gibeah; He will remember their guilt, He will punish their sins.
Hosea 9:9 (NASB)
Welcome to the history of Israel. Here we find ourselves considering the time of Israel when there was no king - the starting and closing line of Judges 19 and 21. Why is that significant? Because it sets the tone for everything that’s about to be conveyed - a time in which people walked not by the leading of God and His ways, but in whatever way they thought best. No one ruled people, and they did as seemed best.
Judges 19 introduces us to a concubine, a woman with legal standing as the partner of a man but without the full rights of a wife (ie a woman of a secondary class, such as one of a sojourner). Why did the Levite, a man from the chosen tribe to minister to the Lord, not have a wife? As a man of the chosen tribe, consecrated to serve the Lord, it was likely due to her class more than his, and while having a concubine was often considered acceptable, it was not God’s best. Oneness was always God’s plan. (Matt 19:4-6)
The introduction to the depraved story that follows is that this concubine-wife departs from her husband for her father’s house. Commentators have evaluated this text over time, and while some hold that she was unfaithful to her husband, many agree that her return to her father’s home and the inference of the original language more likely would be translated as “became angry”. Early church commentator Josephus believes she became fed up with her husband’s frequent brawls, while others believe she revolted against the way in which she was treated at home. Regardless, she has broken relationship with her husband, and he pursues her to her father’s house after some time has passed and seeks to win her over again (literally “speak to her heart”). As was tradition, which is essential for the text that follows, her father follows the high standard of hospitality in those times and seeks to wine and dine his Levitical son-in-law. One could surmise the hope was not only in having a Levite stay in the family and the social standing that provided, but the reunifying of his daughter and the Levite.
The couple is joined together once again, and sets off: a Levite with his concubine and his servant. They make it to the town of the tribe of Benjamin known as Gibeah, but find no hospitality awaiting them. This is significant to note, because part of Levitical laws outlines the standard of hospitality that should be found among the people of God, to the Israelite and foreigner. This is our first sign that something is not right: the people of Gibeah are not living according to God’s standard. In those times, travelers would wait in the city square for someone to invite them to take shelter in their home, and this would happen in city after city. But - not here. It is not until a fellow traveler, staying in this town for some time, sees them and beckons them to stay with him (and so fulfills the standard of hospitality in this culture) that they find a place to stay.
Once in the traveler’s home, it is not long before what the Bible calls “men of worthlessness” come pounding at the door. We’re taken back to a scene right out of Sodom & Gomorrah, and the men demand to know carnally (sexually) the men staying within those walls. The fellow traveler whose residence they are staying is the picture of hospitality: how could they want such a thing? No, please don’t desire something so perverse. Instead, what if you did a “less wicked” thing - here, take my virgin daughter and the Levite’s concubine.
This is abhorrent to our reading today, yet read through the lens of the times we can see a very amiss desire of the host. Desiring to uphold the sacred standard of hospitality, he was looking in one direction and hoping to live righteously, yet erring greatly on another end of God’s standards. The text that follows is difficult to stomach - to save the men from rape, the concubine is offered up to the men of the town, and they rape her all night until she dies. The next morning, the Levite is eager to leave and opens the door to find her dead, with her arms on the threshold, outstretched towards help.
A horrific scene follows: the Levite takes her home and divides her into twelve parts as an in-one’s-face call for judgment from the people of Israel upon the men of Gibeah who defiled his concubine. It’s unusual, it’s grotesque, yet it’s effective. Without any central leader, this creates a unified response. Israel responds with thorough examination of the sin that’s taken place and comes to an agreed upon judgment in unity, as one man.
Yet, here in Judges 20, we see the next example of humanity: the tribe of Benjamin is unwilling to take part in the judgment on the men of Gibeah, and the other tribes join together to come against the sin as one.
This chapter once again presents text that can be hard to understand: in the battles that follow, why does this small tribe cause overwhelming losses for the much greater armies of the rest of the tribes of Israel? Because it is not expressly notated, we should take care in our considerations: is it because there is great cost in doing what is right? Is it because Israel needed to come to the end of themselves? Is it because obedience to the voice of God goes beyond what seems to make sense? While these may be true, we also find the turning point in the battle following a key response by Israel: they wept before the Lord and repented with sacrifices as a nation. They didn’t continue in a stance of harsh judgment at an “other”, but turned and saw themselves as the very nation in need of repentance, for this terrible deed had been done by them as a people. They fasted, denying self, and turned their faces in repentance before a holy God.
At the directive of God, they go out once again and see God fulfill His word and hand over the Benjaminites until only 600 are left. But, alas. Humanity doing what seems best enters the picture once again. Israel suddenly becomes aware that their thorough destruction of the tribe of Benjamin is about to blot out one of the tribes of Israel, and they relent. And yet, in their judgment without grace (reiminiscient of another holy vow, made before the Lord in Judges 11) they have created Benjamin’s downfall - how will the tribe remain without the wives that they’d vowed not to provide?
The slaughter of an entire city is the solution, part of the retribution for the great distaste in the mouth of Israel for what has happened at Gibeah. And yet, the 400 young virgins are not enough. There’s need for more very human solutions, more heartache, more tragedy.
So in a final error in this chronicle of terror, the tribes of Israel scheme to provide the remaining hundreds of wives from the young women who will be dancing and enjoying a festival of the Lord. The picture of men pouncing out from behind the treeline to snatch a wife of his liking, without her family’s blessing, safety, or bodily autonomy, creates an echo of despair that is carnal and destitute to its core.
And here, at the end of Judges, we are reminded of that summation of the times:
“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”
Judges 21:25 (NASB)
So, where is God in the book of Judges?
He is letting people experience the end of themselves.
Israel had a king - God. In the text to follow, Israel asks for a king and God says they have rejected him. Psalm 10:16 calls God king forever and ever, as does Jeremiah 10:7 (“King of the nations”). The Kingship of God is eclipsed from the view of a people wanting what they want, when they want, and how they want. A people doing what seems best in their own eyes.
When we zoom out, the story of Judges is the depravity of mankind apart from God, over and over again. God judges and restores Israel, they fall away, they are judged and restored again, and away they go, again and again and again. It’s a picture of how God never forces Himself on us - but just as we can see in the stories of David (a boy born in a time without a king), Moses, Abraham, Daniel, Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego, those who turned their hearts towards God’s beckoning found Him.
And in this, we find a lesson. This specific instance in history colored the history of Israel, in such a way that hundreds of years later this was quoted twice in the book of Hosea as a measuring stick of depravity. There were translations of the Bible that watered down the language due to how shocking they found the recurrent rape and perverse desire of the men of Gibeah. And a handful of Bible commentators have recommended the skipping over of these chapters, that we might just take the first verse and remember men did what they felt was best and take the lesson from there. But, this is included in sacred Scripture for a reason and we do well to learn a lesson from it: We aren’t less depraved that the men of Gibeah. Without God, we are capable of all kinds of evil, and there isn’t a measuring stick that makes one sin more blemishing than another. It’s only by the grace of God we are called out of sin into His glorious light, and in His rich mercy, we can turn the page and become new. So how do we respond to the tales of the time of Judges? We turn our hearts towards God, are moved to repentance, marvel at His mercies and forgiveness once again, and say, “God, how we need You!”
Thank God for King Jesus!