By and by came Samson’s last and most
disastrous love-affair. It seems likely that Delilah was not a Philistine (as is
often assumed) but one of his own people. She is not specified as of Philistine
race, whereas the others are. Her home was in the valley of Sorek, hard by
Samson’s own home. And when the lords of the Philistines sought her
cooperation, the narrative says they “came up unto her”, as though
implying that she did not live in their territory, but in the hill-country.
Other details in the story will be seen to support this
conclusion.
Delilah does a deal
The Philistines had now come to recognize clearly
that if they were to have any success at all against Samson, it must be achieved
by taking advantage of his weakness for women. Delilah, whose name means either
‘she who brings low’ or ‘night vulture’, was probably a
common harlot. She had no scruples whatever about agreeing to betray Samson. Was
she not in the trade for what she could make out of it? And a quarter of a
million pounds (by modern inflation) was not to be sneezed at as payment for a
night’s work. It seems likely that the strange figure of 1,100 pieces of
silver which each Philistine lord offered Delilah was due to monetary exchange
differences between the two peoples.
So, on three separate occasions, Samson found
himself once more the butt of incessant cajolery, teasing and petulance. Strange
that he was so slow to learn the lesson from his earlier experience at Timnath.
Thus there developed between the two of them a half-joking, light-hearted game
with a queer, rather grim, undertone to it. Samson would mislead Delilah with
his plausible explanations and then suffer himself to be bound, the while
enjoying her pouting and assumed childlike ingenuousness. She in turn was acting
the part in deadly earnest with all the arts and wiles at her command, for the
prize was no triviality.
Her commission was: “Entice him, and see
wherein his great strength lieth”; whence it may be inferred that Samson
was no brawny mass of muscle; he had none of the extraordinary physique of
Goliath, or surely it would not have been necessary for these Philistines to
probe for the secret of his strength. Samson, then, should be pictures as
a man of normal physique and appearance rather than as a great muscular
giant.
At the third attempt Delilah came near to
learning the truth when Samson, still with tongue in cheek, had her weaving the
seven long plaits of his hair into the warp and woof of the piece of cloth in
her loom. But again she found herself thwarted. The very force with which Samson
roused himself to go against the Philistines dismantled the primitive
contraption as he rushed out dragging the material and half the machine after
him.
So it continued each time he visited her, the
light-hearted game degenerating into vexation and ill-temper as she
“pressed him daily with her words”.
The secret divulged
At last, goaded beyond control, Samson blurted
out his secret, and immediately Delilah knew that at last she had the the truth.
Had she been a daughter of the Philistines, this Nazarite vow of Samson’s
would have been meaningless to her. But being a Jewess, she saw at once the
connection between his vow and his unique gift from God. Doubtless she marvelled
at her own lack of perception in not earlier connecting the two
together.
By this time the Philistine lords had washed
their hands of Delilah, having satisfied themselves that she was in league with
Samson to fool them in a manner after his own heart. Probably it was only her
connection with Samson which saved her from nasty treatment. But now she sent
hastily unto them to renew the contract, and they — impressed by the
urgency of her message — complied. They “brought the money in their
hand.”
That night “she made him sleep upon her
knees”. It was a ticklish operation and full of risk. So, most probably,
she doped him, for cutting his hair in normal sleep would be the biggest of
risks. “She made him sleep.” As he slept, she beckoned for
the one who was to help her, and together they hastily and unevenly lopped off
his plaits, all the time anxious and fearful lest he should awake. It is
unlikely that he was shaved in the modern sense of the word, especially since
the word employed to describe the process is used also of the shearing of
sheep.
Then came the cry, as on former occasions:
“The Philistines be upon thee, Samson.” Whereupon Samson bestirred
himself, saying self-confidently (and egotistically?): “I will go out (I
will get off scot free?) as at other times before, and shake myself” from
this strange drowsiness. But now his strength was gone, not because his strength
was in his hair but because the life-long covenant with the God of his
fathers which he had so many times abused and disgraced was now utterly broken.
“The Lord was departed from him”, and he was become “as one
man” (16:7 mg; what a contrast with 13:25; 14:6,19;
15:14).
There, in the place where he had wasted God-given
time and strength and responsibilities, he now writhed in futile, feeble
impotence in the grip of incredulous Philistines whilst Delilah, a bag of
shekels in one hand, “afflicted” him with scorn and insults in
inexpressible relief that her make-believe game of love was at last brought to a
successful conclusion. It is evident that she really hated him
intensely.
Shame and helpless
captivity
The Philistines were taking no chances. At any
moment there might come to Samson one of those incredible accessions of
superhuman strength which had made his name to be feared from Ekron to Gaza. So,
there and then, as he lay bound in the very place of his sensuality and
self-indulgence, they ruthlessly and savagely gouged out his eyes — those
eyes that had been his downfall from the beginning (for almost the first thing
that is written concerning him is that “he saw a woman”). And,
tortured as he was by the searing pain of this cruel and vengeful deed, and
tortured yet more by bitter self-reproaches, Samson was brought to Gaza and led
in triumph through the crowd of spiteful jeering Philistines.
It is possible that Peter makes reference to this
enticement and capture of Samson: “They allure through the lusts of the
flesh, through much wantonness….While they promise them liberty, they
themselves are the servants of corruption: for of whom a man is overcome, of the
same is he brought in bondage. For if after they have escaped the pollutions of
the world….they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter end is
worse with them than the beginning” (2 Pet. 2:18-20). If the allusion is
to Samson these phrases take on a good deal more force; compare also 2 Timothy
2:4,5.
Once the initial humiliations were over —
and how vile they would be can be left to the imagination — Samson settled
down to the weary wretchedness of the prison-house where, hour after hour,
blanketed by the misery of ‘total eclipse’ and the treadmill boredom
of grinding, grinding, grinding, he pondered a thousand times the paths his feet
had trod. He realised with renewed humiliation how ignobly he had let egotism
and animal appetite lure him from his high and holy calling as a saviour of his
people.
New birth
He would realise, too — and with
thankfulness — that in giving him his life, even as a blinded prisoner,
God was graciously giving him an undeserved opportunity to start afresh. For had
he died summarily in Sorek by a thrust from a Philistine spear, he had died a
reprobate. Even so, there seemed but little that he could do in token of his
belated spiritual renewal. He could only renew in his penitence the Nazarite vow
which he had so signally disgraced. So “the hair of his head began to grow
again after he was shaven”, and with it grew his restored fellowship with
the God whose Name he had besmirched among the heathen. God gave him also once
again the strength he might have used in earlier days to better
purpose.
But why were the Philistines such fools as to
allow him his hair again? One can only assume that Delilah had explained to them
the spiritual significance of his unshorn locks, and thus they reasoned:
‘His God cast him off, and will now have no more use for him.’ They
little knew the graciousness of the God of Israel!
And meantime, in his penitence, Samson renewed
his Nazarite vow. Did he get word through to his fellow-Israelites that the
appropriate sacrifices (Numbers 6) be offered on his behalf?
Before long there came round the great religious
festival of Dagon, the god of the Philistines. Opinion is divided as to the
character of Dagon worship. On the basis of a doubtful derivation from the
Hebrew word for ‘fish’ and the finding a half-man, half-fish deity
in Syria, it has been conjectured that Dagon was ‘of fishy form and
mind’, perhaps indirectly reminiscent of Philistine origins in Crete
across the sea.
However, it is now pretty firmly established that
Dagon was a god of harvest (the Hebrew word for corn is dagan). Hence,
when the Philistines captured the ark of the covenant in the time of Samuel they
were punished with a plague of rats in time of harvest, and, as corollary, the
ravages of bubonic plague (1 Sam. 5:9-12; 6:4). Temples dedicated to Dagon have
been found at Mari (18th Century) — far away from Philistia, at Ugarit in
Syria (14th Century), and at Bethshan (11th Century). And it may well be that
Sam-son’s grinding of corn — woman’s work — was a device
for consecrating his labour to Dagon, their god of harvest.
At this festival, naturally enough, Samson was
brought out so that all might gloat over his discomfiture. Had he not been the
chosen representative of Jehovah, the God of Israel? And was not this
humiliation of Samson the humiliation of Jehovah also and the exaltation of
Dagon who had brought the redoubtable enemy into their power? So they rejoiced
in a shout and hymn of praise: “Our God hath delivered into our hands our
enemy, and the destroyer of our country, which slew many of us.” In the
original the words rhyme.
They little realized that this gloating against
the God of Israel decided their fate, and that of Dagon, for no man can indulge
in that sort of vainglory and get away with it. Four hundred years later
Sennacherib, mighty monarch of Assyria, was to find that out (Isa. 37:12-20;
“Isaiah”, HAW, p. 47ff).
Climax!
Samson was brought to the temple, the roof of
which was packed with spectators. The Hebrew text says three thousand. This
would imply a structure twenty times as big as the average ecclesial hall. The
Sinaitic LXX says seven hundred (a hundred for each lock of Samson’s
hair!). There in the open space before it, for the entertainment and jubilation
of these uncircumcised, he danced an Israelite war-dance (s.w. 2 Sam. 2:14).
There is no hint in the text that he performed feats of strength to glorify
their capture of him.
Then, the show over, they led Samson into the
temple itself that there he might be inspected at closer quarters by the
nobility: “And they set him between the pillars”, the twin pillars
(their Jachin and Boaz) in the middle of the building which bore the main load
of the roof and fulfilled the function of the keystone of an arch.
Macalister’s excavations at Gezer, not many miles away, revealed that
there was some such plan about the heathen temple there. Other digs at Gaza and
Tel-en-Nasbeh have shown chiefs’ houses built to a similar
pattern.
Samson had evidently been in that temple in the
days of his sight, and there he had noted the structural weakness. Now, at last,
here was an opportunity to work for the deliverance of his people the like of
which would never come his way again. In his day he had wasted many an
opportunity of using his great strength to a good end. The lesson had now been
learned. He would not waste this one. But, now, if there was to be achievement,
it must not be for vainglory but by strength from God and to the glory of
God.
So he prayed as he had never prayed before. The
Septuagint Version says he wept. It was a double prayer. First, for himself as a
miserable sinner, unfit to stand there as the representative of the God of
Israel, unfit to be aught but a castaway from His presence: “O Lord God,
remember me!” Remember me! — as David was remembered.
“Remember, O Lord, thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses; for they
have been ever of old. Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions:
according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness’ sake, O
Lord” (Psa. 25:6,7). Remember me! — as the thief on the cross was
remembered: “Thou shalt be with me in Paradise.”
And as these two were both justified by their
faith, so also in this hour was Samson; so that his name also is
inscribed in the Lamb’s Book of Life: “And what shall I more say (of
those who pleased God by their faith)? For the time would fail me to tell of
Gideon, and of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthah; of David also, and Samuel,
and of the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness,
obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire,
escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed
valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens” (Hebrews
11:32-34). To his first prayer Samson added another which was not so much for
himself as it might seem: “Strengthen me, I pray thee, only this once, O
God, that I may be avenged of the Philistines for one of my two eyes”
(RVmg).
It has to be remembered that from the point of
view of the Philistines, Samson’s cause was the cause of the God of
Israel; humiliation of Samson was the humiliation of Jehovah. So it follows that
the obvious way, maybe the only way, in which the Lord would be vindicated
before that unholy crew, was through the vindication of His servant. And yet
— as Samson’s prayer makes plain — the finest thing that could
happen now could not wipe out entirely the ignominy of the past. So he could not
regard this final stroke for which he sought divine help as, at best, more than
vengeance for one of his two eyes.
That Samson’s assessment of the situation
was a correct one is shown by the signal response to his prayer. “And he
bowed himself with all his might.” The situation is such as to set the
imagination racing. There in the gaudy obscene temple of Dagon, crowded with
hundreds of the stalwart swash-buckling nobility of the Philistines accoutred in
all their finery, this long-haired unimpressive Israelite with the featureless
face of the blind braced himself between the two central pillars, with shoulders
against one and his feet against the other (for the Hebrew word means ‘he
stretched himself’).
The Israelite captive boy whose duty it was to be
eyes to Samson realised now what his revered fellow-countryman sought to
achieve, and darting nimbly through the throng, he was out to the open sky and
safety before any could hinder him. To him, surely — under God — is
owed the record of the Nazarite’s prayer of faith. Samson’s effort
caught the attention of some who at first laughed uproariously at what he
attempted, and spat on him with contempt. But Samson strained again, the muscles
bulging stiff and hard in every part of his body. One of the pillars shifted
slightly. A woman screamed and pointed in terror. Two young braves swore
vigorously and threw themselves frantically on the naked straining Israelite,
but in vain; as he made his final effort they might just as well have tried to
bend a block of granite.
Another muttered prayer escaped from
Samson’s lips: “Let me die with the Philistines.” The pillars
shifted again, and yet again. Then, with a resounding crash, that overloaded
roof came thundering down bringing with it more pillars, masses of masonry and a
dense crowd of Philistines whose holiday was now ended. Screams of fright and
yells of pain rent the air, but from most there was just — silence. And a
great cloud of dust ascended up to heaven. Samson’s God had avenged him of
one of his two eyes.
News of this last and greatest exploit was
carried by Samson’s faithful, fleet-footed friend to the villages of Dan,
and, mustering in a body, they marched fearlessly into Gaza. Unmolested by the
Philistines (busy looking for fragments of Dagon), they disinterred his body
from the mighty heap of rubble and carried it reverently back for interment in
the tomb of his parents who had lived only long enough to be bitterly
disappointed in the hopes they centred in their child of promise. Yet, one day,
they will have rejoicing in him.
Learning from Samson
The two main lessons from the life of Samson are
simple and clear:
- The consecrated life must be a consecrated life. Facing
simultaneously in opposite directions is impossible, although many still attempt
it. There can be no serving God and Mammon. Wherefore, “Choose ye
this day whom ye will serve.”
- “There is
forgiveness with Thee, that Thou mayest be feared.” There is no life so
foul that it cannot be made sweet by the grace of God. Let there be only a
humble facing of the fact that “in me(that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no
good thing”, and with it a prayer that God will do with one’s
life what no amount of single-handed effort can ever achieve. These lessons must
be learned. Must!
Notes
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4.
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Sorek, the valley where Samson was born. A
few miles away Beth-Shemesh commemorates Samson.
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15.
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Thine heart. Bible idiom for
‘mind’; see also v. 17.
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21.
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Eyes….fetters of brass. Compare king
Zedekiah (2 Kgs. 25:7), another sample and type of the folly of Israel. Now they
could safely have secured Samson with small twine.
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22.
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Destroyer. The verb means ‘to dry
up, to reduce to a wilderness’ (so also LXX) — a hint of some of
Samson’s activities in recent years.
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24.
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Our god hath delivered. This seems to
suggest that this method of taking Samson, through a woman, had been counselled
by an astute priest of Dagon.
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25.
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Made sport. Heb. sachaq definitely
means ‘dance’; but shachaq means ‘beat small’!
LXX evidently read the Hebrew with one letter different: s.w. Matt. 26:67 (cp.
Psa. 69:12; Isa. 50:6).
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29.
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Pillars. Probably of cedar on stone
sockets: 1 Kgs. 7:2.
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RVmg: One of my two eyes is not
certain.
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30.
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The house fell. Tacitus records that in
the reign of Tiberius 50,000 people died in the collapse of a big wooden
amphitheatre. But when it came to numbers, perhaps Tacitus was as big a liar as
Josephus.
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31.
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Brought him up. Perhaps this should read:
‘exalted him’.
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