No King in Israel (20)

Abimelech means some combination of the words “father” and “king”. We first encounter it in scripture as the name of two Philistine kings in Genesis. Why Gideon named the son of his Ephraimite concubine after the manner of Israel’s oppressors is a bit of a mystery, but Abimelech grew up with aspirations far above his station in life, notions that came not from God but from the nations.

His father had been a judge. Abimelech would be king, or so he determined. He began to plot accordingly.

Gideon was an Abiezrite from the tribe of Manasseh, though his family lived in the territory of the tribe of Benjamin. The Benjamites of Ophrah were likely no different from other Benjamites, a pugnacious bunch, and ferocious warriors despite their small numbers. They would probably have defended one of their own in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for Gideon’s family, they were not Benjamites. When they needed help from their neighbors, there was none to be had. But let’s allow the author of this portion of Judges to tell the story.

II. Twelve Judges in Chronological Order (continued)

5. Gideon (continued)

Judges 9:1-2 — The Straw Man Argument

“Now Abimelech the son of Jerubbaal went to Shechem to his mother’s relatives and said to them and to the whole clan of his mother’s family, ‘Say in the ears of all the leaders of Shechem, “Which is better for you, that all seventy of the sons of Jerubbaal rule over you, or that one rule over you?” Remember also that I am your bone and your flesh.’ ”

When offered the kingdom, Gideon wisely declined not only for himself, but also on behalf of his family. “I will not rule over you,” he said, “and my son will not rule over you; the Lord will rule over you.” He understood quite well that being judge was not like being king, in that God was the power behind the judge, and he raised up judges when he pleased without respect to dynastic claims. To date, Israel had five judges, each from different families. There was no reason to believe any son of Gideon should rule over Israel, let alone that all seventy would. No previous judge’s son had ever done so, and we have no indication Gideon’s sons expected to.

Thus Abimelech’s argument was a classic straw man designed to steer his mother’s Ephraimite relatives in the direction he wanted. What really made his case was his appeal to tribal loyalties.

Judges 9:3-6 — Israel’s First King?

“And his mother’s relatives spoke all these words on his behalf in the ears of all the leaders of Shechem, and their hearts inclined to follow Abimelech, for they said, ‘He is our brother.’ And they gave him seventy pieces of silver out of the house of Baal-berith with which Abimelech hired worthless and reckless fellows, who followed him. And he went to his father’s house at Ophrah and killed his brothers the sons of Jerubbaal, seventy men, on one stone. But Jotham the youngest son of Jerubbaal was left, for he hid himself. And all the leaders of Shechem came together, and all Beth-millo, and they went and made Abimelech king, by the oak of the pillar at Shechem.”

The men of Shechem first financed Abimelech’s murder of his brothers from the treasuries of their false god, then declared him king once all potential competition had been eliminated. It’s questionable whether all Israel accepted this. In earlier posts, we’ve examined evidence that as many as three judges may have ruled concurrently in different areas of Israel during these years, and Gideon was one of these. His three-year reign over Israel appears to have been almost exclusively an Ephraimite affectation, one that may not have caught on with the rest of the nation. No later Jewish historians ever refer to him as Israel’s first king. That dubious honor would later go to Saul. Perhaps Abimelech was mostly king in his own mind and in the minds of those who arrogated themselves the right to declare him royalty.

Judges 9:7-15 — Anointing a Bramble

“When it was told to Jotham, he went and stood on top of Mount Gerizim and cried aloud and said to them, ‘Listen to me, you leaders of Shechem, that God may listen to you. The trees once went out to anoint a king over them, and they said to the olive tree, “Reign over us.” But the olive tree said to them, “Shall I leave my abundance, by which gods and men are honored, and go hold sway over the trees?” And the trees said to the fig tree, “You come and reign over us.” But the fig tree said to them, “Shall I leave my sweetness and my good fruit and go hold sway over the trees?” And the trees said to the vine, “You come and reign over us.” But the vine said to them, “Shall I leave my wine that cheers God and men and go hold sway over the trees?” Then all the trees said to the bramble, “You come and reign over us.” And the bramble said to the trees, “If in good faith you are anointing me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shade, but if not, let fire come out of the bramble and devour the cedars of Lebanon.” ’ ”

The worst leaders are people desperate to lead. This is not a new problem, but it’s exceedingly common today. In democratic countries, politicians are stereotypically less credible than used car salesmen, TV evangelists and the mainstream media. People who aspire to run the show are invariably the worst people to actually do it.

The Best and Brightest

It might be more prudent to draft our leaders against their wishes rather than allowing them to volunteer. The best and brightest have a tendency to be doing something more constructive than self-promotion in the year and a half before any given election. Not only that, most people who characteristically produce value in this world prefer to continue producing so long as any choice is given them, as Jotham’s parable reminds us.

Jotham probably had to shout his parable, because he was standing on the top of nearby Mount Gerizim in what is now the West Bank — the place where twelve curses had been pronounced by the Levites when Israel first entered Canaan — and addressing people in the valley below him. The setting was singularly appropriate; he too had a curse to pronounce. But the top of Gerizim was the safest place for him. Once he had finished his parable and explained it, Jotham would pronounce his own curse on Abimelech and Shechem and promptly run away.

Come and Take Refuge in My Shade

The parable is an insult in that the trees symbolize the leaders of Shechem and the bramble symbolizes Abimelech. The bramble is a thorny bush substantial enough to burn for cooking but not useful for much else, and bound to be an annoyance when clearing land for settlement. The bramble’s line, “Come and take refuge in my shade” is probably sarcasm. Notwithstanding the fact that it was entirely unsuited to be king of the trees, every other tree that was asked — every one the least bit qualified, desirable or otherwise appealing — felt they had better things to do. So the bramble was the only game in town.

In some situations, being leaderless beats the alternative. The leaders of Shechem would find this out the hard way.

Judges 9:16-21 — Fire and Devouring

“ ‘Now therefore, if you acted in good faith and integrity when you made Abimelech king, and if you have dealt well with Jerubbaal and his house and have done to him as his deeds deserved — for my father fought for you and risked his life and delivered you from the hand of Midian, and you have risen up against my father’s house this day and have killed his sons, seventy men on one stone, and have made Abimelech, the son of his female servant, king over the leaders of Shechem, because he is your relative — if you then have acted in good faith and integrity with Jerubbaal and with his house this day, then rejoice in Abimelech, and let him also rejoice in you. But if not, let fire come out from Abimelech and devour the leaders of Shechem and Beth-millo; and let fire come out from the leaders of Shechem and from Beth-millo and devour Abimelech.’ And Jotham ran away and fled and went to Beer and lived there, because of Abimelech his brother.”

Empty Words?

Most curses are just empty words. After all, a curse can’t do any real damage without the cooperation of the divine Third Party whose power they attempt to invoke. In any case, we’re not big on curses in our modern world. Oh, I don’t mean profanity: as a culture we’re pretty much over the top with that, as anyone with Netflix will easily confirm. But the real deal — the Old Testament “God is gonna getcha” kind of curse — is rare. And that’s a good thing, I think.

All the same, some curses are very powerful indeed. You and I are more likely to see a movie about a voodoo hex or an ancient Egyptian mumbo jumbo than we are to encounter a real-life set of words that bind or release genuine spiritual forces. But there was a time when a curse meant something. Men did not pronounce a curse casually or without virulent intent.

The Effective Attack Prayer

An Old Testament-style curse was basically an “attack prayer”; an impotent human being calling upon his God to act on his behalf in vengeance on his enemy or enemies. Which comes back to my original point: in the event the heavenly Third Party failed to respond and take up his cause, a man’s curse was nothing more than hot air.

Solomon lays this out in Proverbs, saying, “Like a sparrow in its flitting, like a swallow in its flying, a curse that is causeless does not alight.” Most modern imprecations are like this. I hear them around the office all the time, and their damage is effectively nil, however colorful may be the language in which they are uttered (the Québécois have some beauties). But the power of a human curse is in its meaningfulness to God. An illegitimate, random invocation of harm “does not alight”. It fails to hit the mark.

Right On Target

Balaam confirms the same thing to King Balak, who wanted him to curse Israel: “How can I curse whom God has not cursed? How can I denounce whom the Lord has not denounced?” Without God to back it up, a curse simply does not work. David says in the Psalms, “Let them curse, but you will bless!” He had no fear of the rantings of his enemies, knowing that they would not be ratified in heaven. It is God who is the author of vengeance, and he is not influenced by human whims, baseless grudges or grumpy old men.

Jotham’s curse was the rare “attack prayer” that was right on target, as we will see next week.