The story of Samson is the story of lost possibility.  Unlike any other person in history, Samson was a Nazarite from birth.  Normally, when someone wanted to make a life vow to God, they would proclaim themselves a Nazarite and this would bind them by three things: they would not touch a dead animal, they would drink no drink made from grapes, and they would never cut their hair for the duration of the vow (see Num. 6 for details).  Samson was declared a Nazarite not by his own will but by his mother before he was born.  Maybe that was why he despised his vow.

Though chosen as a judge to save God’s people from their enemies, Samson was not by any means a “man of God”.  When we first meet him, Samson is pining after a foreign girl, something God has warned against repeatedly, for foreigners introduced idols and false teachings and drew good Jews away from God.  On the way, he is attacked by a lion and with his God-given strength (not normal for a Nazarite), he kills the lion, thereby touching a dead animal and breaking the first of his Nazarite vows.  Later as he returned to marry the Philistine, he took some honey out of the dead lion and gave it to his parents, making them unclean as well.

Next came the wedding feast, where the wine flowed freely.  Samson broke the second of his vows at his own wedding.  Finally, as the story progresses, his wife is killed and so Samson visits a prostitute who entices him to allow his head to be shaved, violating the third vow.  He cheats guests in his house, kills many, steals from them, burns down all of his enemies crops, and finally is blinded by them.

Yet through it all, God uses Samson to free His people.  Apparently God can use anyone to accomplish His will.  Maybe even you or me.

The story of Samson is the story of lost possibility.  Unlike any other person in history, Samson was a Nazarite from birth.  Normally, when someone wanted to make a life vow to God, they would proclaim themselves a Nazarite and this would bind them by three things: they would not touch a dead animal, they would drink no drink made from grapes, and they would never cut their hair for the duration of the vow (see Num. 6 for details).  Samson was declared a Nazarite not by his own will but by his mother before he was born.  Maybe that was why he despised his vow.

Though chosen as a judge to save God’s people from their enemies, Samson was not by any means a “man of God”.  When we first meet him, Samson is pining after a foreign girl, something God has warned against repeatedly, for foreigners introduced idols and false teachings and drew good Jews away from God.  On the way, he is attacked by a lion and with his God-given strength (not normal for a Nazarite), he kills the lion, thereby touching a dead animal and breaking the first of his Nazarite vows.  Later as he returned to marry the Philistine, he took some honey out of the dead lion and gave it to his parents, making them unclean as well.

Next came the wedding feast, where the wine flowed freely.  Samson broke the second of his vows at his own wedding.  Finally, as the story progresses, his wife is killed and so Samson visits a prostitute who entices him to allow his head to be shaved, violating the third vow.  He cheats guests in his house, kills many, steals from them, burns down all of his enemies crops, and finally is blinded by them.

Yet through it all, God uses Samson to free His people.  Apparently God can use anyone to accomplish His will.  Maybe even you or me.

The story of Samson is one of the most mis-presented stories in all of scripture.  Think about all you have been taught about Samson.  Here’s the Sunday school version: he had long hair, it gave him strength, he was betrayed by a seductress named Delilah, captured by the evil Philistines, and then he prayed and God gave him strength to defeat his enemies.  We consider it pushing the limits to tell the kids that the defeat was by pushing a few pillars over and bringing down a building on his enemies, and only the most risky teacher will mention that his enemies blinded him.

Unfortunately, for many this is the only version they learn of this story.  We learn what we’re forced to learn in Sunday school and then we stop learning, stop reading, and just listen to a sermon or two.  As Covenanters we claim to be People of the Book, so we really need to not only read the Book, but study it so we know what it says beyond our first-blush reading.  And when we do, we learn the real story of Samson.

Throughout the book of Judges, we’ve seen the Sin Cycle (go back a few days for a description of this phenomenon) played out again and again.  But rather than just cycling, history repeating itself, we find that each time through the cycle the victories are a little less effective, the people are quicker to turn away, and the judges are less and less Godly.  Samson is the last judge of the book, and so is the least Godly of them all.  In fact, this guy is a terrible person.

Yet God used him to bring salvation to his people.  In fact, all of the judges brought salvation to their people, saving them from their enemies.  In that way, each of them was a precursor to Jesus.  Does that mean that we are called to be postcursor’s of Christ?  To reflect Him in our behaviors, our lifestyles, our worldviews, and our relationships?  Yes, it does, and we can take comfort from the fact that the judges, though varying in their Godliness, were used by God for His will.  No matter your level of Godliness, God can use you, too.  Whether untrusted like Deborah, anxious and fearful like Gideon, rash like Jephthah, or just a terrible person like Samson (more tomorrow), God can use you.  Your job is to be open to God’s will and prepared to follow wherever He may lead.

I love the beatitudes.  But like most, I like Matthew’s much better than Luke’s.  Maybe that’s because Luke shares both blessings and curses, and I stand in the place of those cursed, not those blessed.  Like the people of Israel when they entered the promised land, Luke stands on Mt. Gerizim to bless, and Mr. Ebal to curse, for both are appropriate.

We usually connect blessing with wealth, power, family, comfort, and happiness.  We connect curses with poverty, tears, pain, suffering, and mockery.  And this fits what we saw on the two mountains of Gerizim and Ebal.  From Gerizim, the blessings were all of these things, and from Ebal, the curses were all of these as well.  And as is expected, the blessings were for those who obeyed God’s Law and the curses were for those who didn’t.  So how do we interpret Luke’s rendition of beatitudes and woes in light of this?

Jesus blesses not the wealthy and powerful, and not the obedient.  No, Jesus’ blessings are for the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, and the persecuted.  There is no direct mention of the obedience of the people, and from what we read of His disciples, this was seldom the case.  Yet traditionally, blessings come to the obedient, so perhaps we can assume that.  On the other side, Jesus’ woes come to the rich, comfortable, full, laughing, and lauded.  While one would assume that these are the people blessed by God, they are in fact those cursed with woes.

Should we assume that obedience to Jesus will lead to such blessings?  Will truly following Jesus lead to poverty and weeping?  And is wealth and comfort a marker of His curse?  Have we completely flipped the scale here?  That does seem to be Jesus’ way, teachings, and lifestyle.  And if so, then woe to us indeed.

What do we do when the bible doesn’t fit our expectations?  When people are praised for killing their enemies?  When God turns His back on His people even when they cry out for help?  Or when God acts against His chosen people let alone against anyone?

What about when someone is healed by the faith of their friends?  Or Jesus sets the example of eating with the very people we tell our kids to avoid?  What do we do when the bible doesn’t fit our expectations?

I wrestle with this a lot in my field of study.  The bible isn’t always consistent, it doesn’t always makes sense, and sometimes it makes us wonder.  But usually, the problem we have with it is not a problem with God but with our own expectations.

The book I’m reading right now traces the difference between individualist and collective societies.  Given three images – a baboon, a porcupine, and a banana – someone from an individualist society will pair the animals, a functional pairing, while someone from a collective society will pair the baboon and the banana, a relational pairing.  It is hard for we individualists to think like a first century Jew, a collectivist.  So the idea that someone else’s faith might strengthen the community (versus every person’s faith helps themselves) makes for a strange thought for Americans, the ultimate individualists.  Yet it does.  This fits with the difficulty we have reading the bible as a communal document rather than an individualistic letter or instruction manual.  Yet this was not how Jesus, nor His audience, thought and processed the world.  A man being healed by the faith of his friends makes perfect sense to them, as seen by the Pharisees’ reaction against not an anti-individualist worldview but by Jesus claiming to forgive sins.

“The bible was meant to be read, discussed, and even debated in community,” Klyne Snodgrass says.  And that community must be global or we can’t understand the worldview of the scriptures.