I was recently asked to teach a class on the life of Samson. I admit, it’d been a while since I’d thought of the judge and upon reviewing his brief biography, a wrestling match ensued. What was I to make of this guy? More specifically, what was I to make of Samson given my tribe’s (and my) occasional tendency to 1) reduce complex and nuanced Old Testament narratives into something akin to a Veggie Tales episode, and 2) read any significant biblical character as normative?
On the one hand, Samson was a horrible human being. Let’s review the narrative as found in Judges 13-16.
In a time when the Philistines ruled over the Israelites, Samson married a Philistine woman because he was spoiling for a fight with the powers that be. Ever the trickster, he tricked the Philistines, and when they out-tricked him, he killed them all. After this, he deserted his wife only to become enraged when he found out her father had married her to someone else (you know, because he deserted her). More violence ensues, Samson kills more people, and the Philistines burn his wife(?) and father-in-law(?) alive. The Israelites don’t appreciate Samson stirring up trouble, so they bind him and turn him over to the Philistines. Violence. Bloodshed. Carnage.
And then, there’s the one about Samson visiting a prostitute before making a clever and daring escape from those pesky Philistines lying in wait. And this happens just before he meets Delilah, who manages to get the secret of his strength out of him, takes advantage of his vulnerability, and helps the Philistines capture him. His eyes are put out and he is humiliated before praying to God to give him the strength to get his revenge and knocking the building down on thousands of Philistine men, women, and children.
Violent. Selfish. Impulsive. Dishonest. Vindictive. Demeaning.
Who’s excited when their kid brings Samson home as their new friend, or heaven forbid, “the one”?
But, the truly vexing part of Samson’s story is that God appears to be with the man. Before he was born, an angel visits his parents to say that God will use Samson, that he is a Nazarite from birth, that he belongs to God. The Spirit of God rushes on Samson as he accomplishes great feats of impulsive and vengeful rage. God grants him the strength to knock the building down on all those women, children, and men. And, most befuddling, Samson shows up in the so-called Honor Roll of Faith in Hebrews 11.
What gives? What should we do with Samson? A few thoughts:
Samson is not a role model.
I mean, I get why Samson is a popular story. “You mean he killed a lion with his bare hands and then he killed a thousand Philistines with a what!?! Kewl!!!” Plus, the dude gets more ladies than James Bond. Samson represents so many of the things we value in our culture – and in his – and that’s the catch. Samson lived in a dark time of Israel’s history. The book of Judges closes: “In those days, there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” To say Samson is heroic by the standards of his culture (or popular Western culture) isn’t saying much, because one of the main points of Judges was to demonstrate the faithfulness of God in the face of Israel’s utter faithlessness. The inspired writer wants us to read this chapter in Israel’s history and think, “There’s got to be something better than this. And, why in the world is God sticking with them through all of this!?!” While there are exceptions to the rule (Samson’s parents come to mind), to dig through Judges looking for heroes and role models is to miss the point of what the book seeks to do.
But, there’s a more fundamental point to be raised here as well. When it comes down to it, the only reason I find much of Samson’s story troubling is because of my commitments to Jesus. Take, for example, Jesus’ commands we “turn the other cheek,” and “love your enemies.” I don’t really like either of these commands. In line with much of our culture’s moral reasoning, I would much rather go the route of violence, domination, and retaliation. That is, I am drawn to the notion that we can only fix what needs fixing with more power. This is, after all, what we find most striking and alluring about Samson the Strong Man (and wouldn’t this make a terrific action movie!). But, the way of Jesus remains what it is and I have committed myself to that Way, to the way of suffering love that moves forward in the world by laying power down – even for one’s enemies. This commitment, made and confirmed in the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist, creates a deep tension in me when I read Samson’s story.
I can be like Jesus or I can be like Samson. But, I can’t be like both.
God uses evil, but that doesn’t make evil good.
But, God uses Samson! Surely, that validates his life in some way?
Except, there is a lot in Scripture to suggest this is not the way it works. Put succinctly, God is big enough to bring accomplish his purposes through the evil actions of rebellious people without approving of what those people are doing. That probably deserves a little unpacking, so I’ll do my best.
We might begin, for example, in the short little book of Habakkuk. Habakkuk lived and worked during a rough patch in Judah’s history. Corruption, violence, oppression, and immorality abounded and the prophet’s work begins with the cry, “How long!?!” That is, how long will God allow Judah’s evil to go unchecked? God’s answer comes quickly: “Not long, actually. I’ve already raised the Babylonians to come and bring judgment on Judah for their evil.” But, Habakkuk objects because Babylon is more evil than Judah. How can God use such evil to punish evil? God assures the prophet that 1) he is big enough to use Babylon’s evil to accomplish a given purpose, and 2) his use of Babylon doesn’t mean he’s okay with what Babylon is doing. They will be judged for their violence and domination just as Judah is being judged.
Another example: When you read through Jeremiah, one of the little refrains you will find is the prophet telling the people 1) the Babylonians are coming to destroy Judah, and 2) that the faithful will not fight against them because God is using Babylon’s lust for war making for his own purposes. In fact, it is through the faithful’s submission to Babylonian exile that God preserves a remnant among his people.
One more: In the gospel accounts, the Roman and Jewish powers crucified Jesus for their own evil ends. The Jewish powers saw a threat to their way of life. Pilate was threatened by the possibility of another riot. (That, and it was Roman policy to put down pretenders to the throne.) Just to be clear, the New Testament attributes the actions of Jerusalem and Rome here to Satan. But, God uses their actions against them – uses Satan’s actions against him – to bring about the redemption of God’s good, embattled creation. And, clearly, this doesn’t justify what the Romans and Jews did to Jesus.
Rather, this is cosmic jiu jistsu. God uses the fallen powers’ own choices, agendas, and evil against them to bring about his purposes. That doesn’t make their choices, agendas, or evil good. It is a demonstration of God’s sovereignty. This, by the way, helps us make sense of what Paul is doing in Romans 13. To say God ordains the powers and uses the powers is not to say the powers are good. It is not to say the powers are justified in their actions. And, in this broader view of how God works in the world, it certainly is not to say God caused their evil actions. It says that God can use them – like he did Babylon and Rome and Jerusalem. It says that God will not even let their violence, corruption and oppression be for nothing.
It also helps me make sense of Samson. That God used his impetuousness, rage, lust, violence, and vengeance does not mean God demanded or approved of those things. It may just mean God used a wicked man’s actions in wicked times to bring judgment against other wicked people. The narrative is, after all cast as a redemption story; but God is the redeemer, not Samson.
But, Hebrews 11?
But, Samson is included in the list of the faithful in Hebrews 11. What are we to make of that? I confess this has been the deepest source of tension for me looking at the man’s life.
It seems clear enough from the narrative in Judges that this faithfulness comes into play at the very end of his life. Samson had been very much self-willed up to this point, and I suspect it’s significant that the Philistines took his sight from him. That is, it was only in his blindness that Samson began to see. But, if this is his moment of faith – and I think it is – what are we to make of the guy using this moment of trust to pray for the strength to take revenge before killing thousands? I’m still working through my thoughts on this, but here’s my best shot: In a broken, sinful world, our expressions of faith will be distorted at best. Samson is no exception to this rule.
To illustrate, let me point to the slightly easier example of Abraham and Sarah. In Genesis 12, God comes to patriarch and tells him to set out on a journey:
“Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation and I will bless you. I will make your name respected, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, those who curse you I will curse; all the families of the earth will be blessed because of you.”
If I’m Abraham of Sarah, I’m cool with most of this except the part about God building a nation through my lineage. That part I wonder about because I’m getting up in years and have no lineage. But, and this is the part I want you to see, in verse 4, they got up and left. They didn’t know how God was going to do what he said he would do, but they trusted him.
As the narrative unfolds, you can see they’re trying to puzzle it out. God will do it, they knew, but how? In Genesis 15, God initiates the conversation by telling Abraham not to be afraid. Abraham responds by asking God if he will keep his promise by building a nation through Abraham’ right hand man, his de facto heir in the absence of children. God promises Abraham that this isn’t how the promise will be fulfilled, that Abraham would father the child of promise, and Abraham believed God. With the right hand man option ruled out, they move on to the next possibility. Abraham would father the child, but God had said nothing about Sarah, so she gives Hagar to Abraham (a terribly common practice in the day) and he gets her pregnant. We soon find out that this is not what God intends either, that he plans on marching past all the possibilities – “This is how it works!” – to perform impossibilities.
But, what I want you to see here is that Abraham and Sarah acted out of faith – not a lack of it. They believed God, so they were actively trying to figure out how to establish a lineage. But, they were fallible and broken humans, so their faith was expressed in fallible and broken ways. I think something similar was going on with Samson. “But,” you rightly object, “his expression of faith was killing thousands of people for revenge!” Yes and that was wrong, but also remember, the man had just developed this faith. After a lifetime of vengeance and violence, is this really surprising?
The amazing thing of it is, though, that if God can find some time for that expression of faith, there is also hope for people like me – a participant in a culture that is every bit as violent and death dealing as Samson’s. If we can speak of Samson having faith as he brings the palace down around him, there may be a glimmer of hope for all of us who are complicit in so much pain and suffering in our world.
That complicity isn’t good, not by a long shot, and the point of the story isn’t that Samson should’ve (or would’ve) stayed in that place had he lived longer. You see, the question isn’t, “How should we be like Samson?” but “How are we already like Samson?” And, as we wrestle with that, perhaps there’s a hint of God’s faithful sovereignty for us too – a faithfulness that can even redeem people like me … er … I mean, Samson.
robrsparks 