The Judgeship of Ehud

Judges 3:12-30

The second of Israel's judges was Ehud, one of the first great judges whom God raised up to save his people. In spite of the grand work of Othniel, the cycle of declension begins with the familiar refrain, 'the people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord' (v12).

Indeed, that is part of the tragedy of Judges; in spite of isolated, albeit grand, moments of deliverance, no judge is able to deliver from the tyranny of sin. Nor, for us, is it enough to know that God stepped in at particular moments to give us deliverance in particular situations. We need to be freed from sin's grip, from its power and its bondage.

What a blessing for us that we may read the story of Judges in the light of the great salvation which this book was intended to illustrate and to which it points forward. For, in the fulness of time a deliverer did, in fact, come, who was able, and is still able, to take the idols of sin out of our heart and bring us alive to God. No other saviour can do that but him.

So the story opens with the destructive, distortive effects of sin. Instead of God being for his people and against their enemies, he is for the enemy and against his people! The rise of Moab is ascribed not to the power of Moab's hand, but to that of God! He strengthened his people's enemies, and they were oppressed.

Moab is always portrayed as the enemy of the people of God. The Moabites were descended from the child born out of the incestuous relationship of Lot and his daughter (Genesis 19:37). From that sinful union came a sinful seed, who were always trying to attack the people of God. Remember King Balak of Moab? In the Book of Numbers he hired Balaam, a prophet, to curse God's people. It could not be done, but the attempt was there.

Yet Moab is in the hand of God, an instrument for the good of his people. 'Moab is my washbasin' God says in Psalm 60:8, and in it he is going to wash his people. It is so strange to us that God should strengthen the enemies of Israel, yet what is the alternative? Leave them in the grip of evil and rebellion? NO! God refuses to do that, instead strengthening these foreign powers against his people, precisely so that they will see their need, their ruin, their sin, and be washed of it.

So the enemy changes; Othniel was needed because Mesopotamia was the problem; Ehud is needed because Moab is the problem; Shamgar will be needed when the Philistines become a problem. We can never be sure what the problem will be, can we? Nor can we be sure about the direction from which it will come. We are never safe, even though in God's hand we are always safe. Yesterday's needs may not be today's; today's problems may not be tomorrow's.

And look -- Moab finds friends when it comes to attacking Israel! See these disparate groups -- the Moabites, the Ammonites, the Amalekites, with all their own pet needs, foibles and petty, political concerns, all coalescing in league against Israel. Like Herod and Pilate who became friends when Jesus stood trial before them (Luke 23:12), so these warring factions find common cause in their assault on the people of God. It was ever thus: the kings of the earth and its princes are still combined to plot against Jehovah and his Messiah (Psalm 2:1-2).

The final offensive is the taking of the city of palms (v13), that is Jericho (Deuteronomy 34:3). Jericho, of course, had been razed by Joshua, which is probably why it is now named for the oasis and the fertile plain nearby. But you see the implication -- Moab is no longer outside, looking in; he is inside, with a base among God's people, looking around to see how he can best attack. And he is successful; Balak's successor, Eglon, is successful in keeping Israel in bondage for 18 years.

If the 'then' at the beginning of v15 means that it was only after 18 years that the people of Israel cried to God, then they were slow in learning their lesson. However, God raised a deliverer, who slew the king, rallied the troops and cut down 10,000 Moabites in one military campaign.

The Difficulty of the Story

But it's not an easy story. What is a story like this, full of murder, lies and gore, with all its bloodshed and intrigue, doing in God's holy book? Surely it ought not to be here? Does it not raise moral and ethical questions about God -- hard questions about the kind of God we worship? Or is the God of the Old Testament different from the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ?

Actually, I suspect that the inclusion of this kind of story is proof for the divine origin of Scripture, rather than an argument against it. Would you have included such a story in a theological, sacred book? Probably not; and nor would I. Yet it is here, which makes me think that someone extraordinary was directing what should be recorded in His book.

So we must approach these stories from a twofold perspective. The first is that of Paul in 2 Timothy 3, that all Scripture is given by God and is profitable for us. That was the view Jesus had of the Bible, and it is the view that God's people have consistently held to. Whatever questions may arise in our minds, we do not start with them. We begin with a commitment to the lordship of Christ over the Old Testament Scriptures.

Peter Craigie puts it like this, in his discussion of The Problem of War in the Old Testament:

Our role is more to explain than to defend the warlike material of the Old Testament. We need to explain its theological richness, its implications for our understanding of God, and its relevance to Christian living (PWOT, p103).

If we begin with the premise that God has given us the revelation of the Old Testament for our profit, then we are called to find its relevance, not defend what we consider to be its questionable character.

Related to this is the second perspective: this is a story about salvation. God raised up a saviour for his people (v15); as Ralph Davis says, 'not a murderer, or an assassin, or a liar or a deceiver -- but a savior ... we are not to see the problems God creates but the salvation he brings' (Judges, p59). There may be dark threads in the weave, but the pattern is one of deliverance. Shadows contribute to the picture; indeed, they are created by the light. The light of God's salvation causes long shadows to fall, but we must never lose sight of the fact that they are caused by the healing rays of the Sun of Righteousness.

That is no more and no less the perspective we must keep on the cross itself, the 'measure of all things', according to Luther. Who can justify the deceit of the false witnesses? The treachery of Judas? The injustices of Pilate? The rabble cry 'Crucify him'? Yet the story remains one of salvation. Though they ought never to have crucified the Lord of glory, nonetheless his death on the cross was indispensable for their -- and our -- salvation. Let's not lose that perspective on things.

The Detail of the Story

So the story unfolds, with less detail than is to be given to Gideon or Samson, certainly, but with rather more than was given about Othniel in 3:7-11 or Shamgar (3:31). The Israelites had to pay tribute to King Eglon; on one occasion Ehud brought the tribute. He was the deliverer, the judge who slew the king. On the pretext that he had a secret message to give, he butchered him in his palatial surroundings.

But God is in the details of this narrative. That is something we must not lose sight of. Indeed, it is the very essence of faith to see God, and therefore great significance, in the smallest of details. Things that to other people are insignificant take on great significance when viewed in this way.

First, there is the fact of Ehud's left-handedness: 'a deliverer, Ehud, the son of Gera, the Benjaminite, a left-handed man' (v15). Our attention is drawn to this detail. Most people in Scripture seem to be right-handed; at least the right hand seems to be the place of prominence and of blessing, from the right hand of Jacob (see Genesis 48:17ff) to the right hand of God himself (Hebrews 8:1).

Yet here we have a left-handed deliverer. I think there are only two other places in the Old Testament where our attention is drawn to left-handedness. Both are drawing attention to the same fact, that of the skill of the Benjaminite warriors, who could sling with the left hand and not miss a hair (20:16), and Benjaminite archers who could use the bow with either hand (1 Chronicles 12:2).

Isn't it interesting that these skilled, left-handed warriors were from the tribe of Benjamin, whose name means 'son of my right hand'? When Benjamin was born, Rachel died. Her trial was so great that she wanted her son called 'Ben-oni', son of my sorrow. But Jacob named him 'son of my right hand', meaning that blessing would come out of the trial.

Now, among the descendants of the son of the right hand is a left-handed deliverer, who will save Israel. Is it spiritualising too far to say that among the descendants of the Son of the Right Hand of the majesty on high there are many left-handed warriors, unlike their great prince, yet able to be used by God and to be instruments in God's hand for the good of his people?

Second there is the detail of the sword. Ehud made this sword himself, 'a sword with two edges, a cubit in length, and he bound it on his right thigh under his clothes' (v16). Ehud was a skilled man, able to make this short, sharp sword. Normally the two-edged sword was a long sword, but this one was purpose-made.

Perhaps the left-handedness came into its own when Ehud strapped it to his right thigh. Is this how he was able to enter the presence of the king undetected? The absence of a sword on the left side perhaps gave the guards a false sense of security. So they waved Ehud past, little knowing his secret.

God uses every talent to further his cause. He gives gifts and callings to people, for which he does not repent. He has those who will serve him in every place and on every occasion.

Third there is the detail of Eglon's person: 'now Eglon was a very fat man' (v17). The detail lends a graphic detail to the scene. One pictures Eglon rolling round the palace, shouting orders and demanding obedience.

But this is surely more than just a physical description. In Scripture, fatness is a sign of wealth and of affluence; Asaph looked at the wicked and described their eyes as 'swelling out in fatness; their hearts overflow with follies' (Psalm 73:7). Eglon's physical frame is a symbol of his spiritual condition; he has gorged himself on the people of God, devouring them and making himself great at their expense. 'These are the wicked: always at ease, they increase in riches' (Psalm 73:12).

Yet God will not allow this king to become too comfortable in his luxury and wealth. His days are numbered.

Fourth, there is the graphic description of the slaying of Eglon, as Ehud deceives him into holding a private audience with him. Alone with the king, he takes the sword and plunges it into the fat king's belly: 'and the hilt also went in after the blade, and the fat closed over the blade, for he did not pull the sword out of his belly, and the excrement came out' (v22). Not much left to the imagination!

At one level the description repels: we have this graphic portrayal of a man ripped apart by a two-edged sword, unable to escape from its destructive effect. Not all his luxury, or greatness, or fatness, can protect him now. The little man from Benjamin topples the big man from Moab.

But there is, in fact, something sharper than a two-edged sword, and the Bible's description of it is no less graphic: 'the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart' (Hebrews 4:12). That is the power of the Bible!

And, after all, Ehud's message was a message from God: this was God's way of dealing with the king. God can topple men and nations by things, and by people, that the world despises. He remains God, and none of his purposes will fail.

Finally, there is the error of the servants, who saw Eglon's room all locked up, and concluded he must be in the toilet! How ridiculous; all the time he was lying in a heap on the floor. At the very moment that they imagined their king to be alive, God had struck him down. They will not find the living among the dead.

Yet in spite of the death-blow Christ has given to sin and death by the cross, men and women still live for that which will not satisfy. They are serving dead kings and queens, powers which Christ has vanquished. O that their eyes might be opened to see the true state of the king they serve!

The Development of the Story

Three things happen in consequence of Ehud's action. First, God's people are rallied and roused to fight. Ehud's courage has a contagious effect. The people of God are revived and strengthened, able to face the enemy with renewed vigour and courage. How much the church needs to hear the rousing, rallying trumpet all of our great Deliverer!

Second, God gives them victory. Grace restores what sin took away: now the hand of God is with his people as he promised. What blessings await us on the road of repentance and obedience, blessings of renewal, refreshing, revival and strengthening.

Third, God gave them rest. For eighty years the danger was past, and the land rested. That is always God's ultimate gift: rest after conflict. In the development of our story too, there will be rest, a calm after the storm, a haven after the voyage, peace after the storm, rest after conflict. Do we know the rest and the peace that only Christ can give?