I picked up the phone and within ten seconds wished I hadn’t.  I was a new bride and it was my first experience with a telemarketer. I couldn’t fathom someone who had an answer for every reason to say “No.” 

              I’d been taught to always be polite so as long as he talked I listened.  Finally I said, “I couldn’t spend this much money without talking to my husband first anyway.”

              Yes, he even had an answer for that one.  “Don’t you think it’s about time you learned how to make decisions on your own?”

              He had finally gone too far.  “How we run our marriage is our business, not yours,” I replied and hung up.  He found out in short order that my acceptance of my husband’s authority didn’t mean I was spineless.

              Too many women today seem to think it does, and worse, care far too much about what other people think about them.  I feel the same way about that as I do about men who won’t help with child care and housework because, “That’s woman’s work.”  Shakespeare put it best:  “Methinks thou doth protest too much.”  It takes strength to submit; weakness cannot overcome the natural tendency to want attention and power.

              Sarah comes to mind.  In a misguided attempt to help God fulfill his promises to Abraham, she and Abraham arranged a surrogate mother.  Hagar was “her handmaid,” Gen 16:1,3, a personal servant of Sarah’s, not a simple slave girl who would have been under Abraham’s authority (Growth of the Seed, Nathan Ward).  When Hagar’s attitude toward Sarah eroded into hateful disrespect--“her mistress became despised in her eyes” v 4—Sarah was ready to throw her out.  At that time, in that culture, Hagar as her handmaid was her business, not Abraham’s.  Yet Sarah, in her submission as a wife, still went to Abraham first.  Even he said, “Behold, your maid is in your hands.  Do what you think is best,” v 6.

              Please note, the surrogacy arrangement did not change Hagar’s status.  She is still called “handmaid” by the writer and by God (21:12), and the angel of Jehovah told her she was wrong to have fled, that the right thing was to return to her mistress (16:7-9), just as it was for Onesimus to return to Philemon.  Sarah did not have to ask Abraham for permission, but she went the extra mile in her submission to him.

              So how am I doing at this submission business?  Do my friends know that my husband is the head of the house, or would they throw their heads back in gales of laughter at the very thought?  Am I embarrassed to say, “I need to talk with my husband,” before making a major decision?

              Even the New Testament recognizes that a woman has a realm of authority in the home.  Widows are to remarry and “rule the household,” 1 Tim 5:14.  That word “rule” is not the same Greek word as the one in 3:4, elders should “rule well their own household.”  The word in 5:14 is one that means “manage [the home specifically] under a master.”  Just as the store manager does not expect to be micromanaged by the owner of the business, he still understands that he must ultimately answer to that owner.  Would anyone expect otherwise?

              It is time to stop being cowed by our increasingly godless culture, afraid to admit that we actually believe what the Bible says about unpopular things.  The next time someone insults you for your voluntary subjection to your husband, show them just how much spine you do have.
 
For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, by submitting to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord. And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening, 1 Peter 3:5-6
 
Dene Ward

I was driving back from Bible class, coming down the last hill before the river, rolling green fields dotted with black cattle on the right, and a couple of old trailer houses perched on the left, their yards littered with rusty old farm equipment, screens hanging loose on porches covered with peeling paint, and black and brown frosted-off weeds standing knee high.  It may surprise you that I was driving.  I have reached that point where the doctor is the one who decides if I can have a driver’s license, and it seems the general consensus is that it doesn’t matter if you can tell if that thing by the side of the road is a garbage can, a mailbox, or a midget, as long you know it’s there and don’t hit it.

              But I was really tired.  Most of my medications are beta blockers of one sort or another, or poisons that affect my heartbeat.  Sometimes I am lucky to have a pulse rate of 52 and blood pressure just scraping the bottom side of 100, the top number that is.  The bottom one might be half that. 

              I had just bought groceries for the week, picked up a prescription and some dry cleaning, stood in line at the post office for twenty minutes and taught a Bible class, not to mention driving the hour and a half round trip back and forth to town.  I was ready to sit out the rest of the day, after I got home and unloaded.

              But my weary mind forgot that I was driving and told me to lean back and relax.  I know my eyes weren’t closed longer than half a second, but when my brain caught up with what I was doing and I snapped to, my pulse was racing along just fine.  Good thing I was only five miles from home.              

              And that’s when I forgot that these medications are a blessing, that without them I wouldn’t see at all, and wouldn’t have for several years now.  That’s when I railed against a gift of God.  It’s not enough that I have no energy.  I must also put up with the discomfort of follicular conjunctivitis every minute of every day as a side effect, and nearly constant headaches from the blurry vision that accompanies it.  How can this be a blessing?

              Down days happen, usually when things pile up.  Once again we needed something we couldn’t afford.  Once again we had received bad news about a parent’s health.  Once again something broke down.  My vision had decreased another line at my last checkup.  Keith’s RA had broken through the latest, the third, layer of medication and we weren’t sure it could be knocked down without another layer.  And now I come dangerously close to an accident that could have hurt not just me but an innocent bystander.

              So down I spiraled.  When even blessings—like the medications that keep you seeing—become something you want to curse because all you can focus on are the side effects, you are too far down, and it’s time to find your way out.

             Down days aren’t so much about a lack of faith as they are about a moment’s forgetfulness.  They are about looking for the wrong things, or looking at the right things the wrong way.  This wretched medicine makes me feel horrible, I sometimes think on a down day.  On an up day I remember, this wonderful medicine has kept me seeing long enough to see my grandchildren.

              I don’t for a minute compare myself to John, and I certainly have no idea what his feelings were, but if I had been in his shoes—or in his cell—I might have needed a reminder too.  He had given up so much to fulfill his role in God’s plan as the forerunner of the Messiah.  Yet now, when he has done all that was expected of him, he is cast into prison for speaking the truth.  Surely God would save this righteous man, the one of whom the Messiah himself would say, “Of those born of women, none is greater than John,” Luke 7:28.  But no, day after day he languishes in a prison cell at the mercy of a wicked woman and her weak husband. 

              I would have had a down day or two as I came to realize that my work was finished, that perhaps I, too, was finished, at the completely un-ripe young age of 31 or so.  I don’t know if that is why or not, but he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” (7:20) 

              The Lord sent him what he needed to hear.

              "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me." Luke 7:22-23.

              John already knew those things; he had probably seen many of them.  He just needed to be reminded, and there is no shame in that. 

            God can remind each one of us too.  He does it by the providential words and actions of your brethren.  He does it when a hymn suddenly wafts through your mind.  He does it by giving us His Word, a resource of constant refreshment when we need it.  How many of us don’t have verses we go to in difficult moments?  If you don’t, then you need to make some time today to find one.  Find it before you need it.  Find it, and let the Lord remind you about all of your blessings, both now and to come. 

              You can come up from a down day, but only if you reach out and take hold of the help that is offered.
 
They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31.
 
Dene Ward

We eat a lot of soup.  It’s cheap, filling, and healthy.  Even a 400 calorie bowlful is a good meal, and most are far less fattening, coming in at about 200 per serving.  You won’t get tired of it because of the nearly infinite variety. 

              We have had ham and bean soup, navy bean soup, and white bean and rosemary soup.  We’ve had cream of potato soup, baked potato soup, and loaded baked potato soup.  I’ve made bouillabaisse, chicken tortilla, pasta Fagioli, and egg drop soups.  For more special occasions I have prepared shrimp bisque, French onion, and vichyssoise.  We’ve warmed our bones with gumbo, mulligatawny, and clam chowder.  I’ve made practically every vegetable soup there is including broccoli cheese soup, roasted tomato soup, and lentil soup.  And if you want just plain soup, I have even made chicken noodle.  You can have soup every week for a year and not eat the same one twice.

              Not only is it cheap to make, it’s usually cheap to buy.  Often the lowest priced item on a menu is a cup of soup.  I can remember it less than a dollar in my lifetime.  Even now it’s seldom over $3.50.  So why in the world would I ever exchange a bowl of soup for something valuable?

              By now your mind should have flashed back to Jacob and Esau.  Jacob must have been some cook.  I have seen the soup he made that day described as everything from lentils to kidney beans to meat stew.  It doesn’t really matter.  It was a simple homespun dish, not even a gourmet concoction of some kind.

              Usually people focus on Jacob, tsk-tsk-ing about his conniving and manipulation, but think about Esau today.  Yes, he was tired and hungry after a day’s hunt.  But was he really going to starve?  I’ve had my men come in from a day of chopping wood and say, “I could eat a horse,” but not only did I not feed them one, they would not have eaten it if I had.  “I’m starving,” is seldom literal.

              The Bible makes Esau’s attitude plain.  After selling his birthright—his double inheritance—for a bowl of soup, Moses writes, Thus Esau despised his birthright, Gen 25:34.  If that inheritance had the proper meaning to him, it would have taken far more than any sort of meal to get it away from him.  As it was, that was one expensive bowl of soup!

              The Hebrew writer uses another word for Esau—profane--a profane person such as Esau, who for one mess of meat sold his own birthright, Heb 12:16.  That word means “unholy.”  It means things pertaining to fleshly existence as opposed to spiritual, things relevant to men rather than God.  It is the exact opposite of “sacred” and “sanctified.”  Jacob understood the value of the birthright, and he also understood his brother’s carnal nature.  He had him pegged.  So did God.

              What important things are we selling for a mess of pottage?  Have you sold your family for the sake of a career?  Have you sold your integrity for the sake of wealth?  Have you sold your marriage for the sake of a few “I told you so’s?”  Have you sold your place in the body of Christ for a few opinions?  Have you sold your soul for the pleasure you can have here and now?

              Examine your life today, the things you have settled for instead of working for, the things you have given up and the things you gave them up for.  Have you made some really bad deals?  Can you even recognize the true value of what you have lost?  Don’t despise the blessings God has given you.  Don’t sell your family, or your character, or your soul for a bowl of soup.
 
Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, Phil 3:17-20.
 
Dene Ward
 

Then Elijah became afraid and immediately ran for his life. When he came to Beer-sheba that belonged to Judah, he left his servant there, but he went on a day’s journey into the wilderness. He sat down under a broom tree and prayed that he might die. He said, “I have had enough! LORD, take my life, for I’m no better than my fathers.” Then he lay down and slept under the broom tree…” (1Kgs 19:3-5)

              If you don't recognize the citation above, it's probably because you have made the same mistake everyone else does.  You have read the account of the contest on Mt Carmel and simply stopped at the end of the 18th chapter of 1 Kings.  You have exulted in the victory Elijah won and left it at that.  Which means you missed this:  it wasn't a victory after all.  Yes, Elijah thought it was too, but as soon as he got home from his God-assisted sprint to Jezreel, he found out otherwise.  All that had happened was the temporary pumping up of a people who lived only in the passion of the moment.  The passion faded almost immediately.  Jezebel was still in control and Elijah was threatened and running for his life.  Nothing had changed!

              What a letdown.  If his flashy victory couldn't save the people, what could?  And so he fell into a deep depression.  "Just let me die, God," he requests, and lies down to sleep.

              The point this morning is not the answer to why the big show didn't work.  See "Pep Rally Religion" for that.  The point this morning is something much more practical.  Times of depression are normal.  They do not mean you are weak.  If ever there was a spiritually strong man of God, it was Elijah.  Yet he, too, fell prey to low morale.

              "Look at all I've done.  I've tried and tried and I am a failure.  I am all alone.  No one cares.  Why should I bother?" (19:4)

              Tell me you haven't had those moments.  Well, you are in good company.  So what was the problem?

              First, he was counting on the wrong thing.  He made a big splashy show, thinking it would turn the people around.  Yes, they may have chanted "Jehovah he is God" 17 times or more, but it didn't last past the rainstorm.  Passion always diminishes.  It cannot be maintained at a fever pitch.  It will simply wear you out.  If passion is the basis of your faith, you are in for a big fall, probably sooner rather than later.

              Second, he focused only on himself.  For those brief moments, a man who had spent his life serving God and reaching out to others, turned his attention inward and forgot the point of it all. "I'm a failure.  I'm no better than my fathers." Paul reminded the Corinthians that he planted, and Apollos watered, but it was God who gave the increase.  We aren't to worry about results. That's God's business.  We just keep working.

              And third, just as it always does, depression became pessimism and pessimism became cynicism, and those things steal your hope.  "I'm the only one left."  Nonsense.  What about Obadiah and the 100 prophets that faithful man had hidden from Jezebel?  It had only been a few days since he and Obadiah had spoken about it.  Surely he knew of others.  He had to for God to be able to speak of a symbolic 7000 who "have not bowed their knee to Baal" and not be overstating the matter.

              So God asks Elijah the question in our title:  "What are you doing here?"  He's a few hundred miles from Samaria, the capital of the people he is supposed to be preaching to, and in an unpopulated wilderness where he cannot serve anyone at all.  So God sends him back.  Get busy doing my work, He tells Elijah.  And there was plenty left to do.  You are most certainly NOT the only one left, God reminds him.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself and trust me, just like you always did before.

              Obviously we are not talking about mental illness or clinical depression.  But sometimes that ordinary old down in the dumps feeling can seem just as bad.  It's normal in the ups and downs of life to feel like that—once in a while.  Even strong people have those days.  But the cure is the same every day, whether you are in the doldrums or out of them.  Concentrate on serving God and serving others.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.  God doesn't.  He let Elijah get some rest, then fed him, and finally, taught him the lesson of the power in the "still, small voice" of His Word rather than big splashy shows.  "It isn't your power—it's mine that accomplishes things.  Trust me."  Then He said, "Get to work!" (19:5-18).

              If you're feeling a little blue today, read 1 Kings 17-19.  When you see it in someone else, it's easier to see how ridiculous it all is.  Get some rest, nourish your body, and then do like Elijah and get back to work.  God may even have a chariot waiting for you someday.
 
Lord, they have killed Your prophets and torn down Your altars. I am the only one left, and they are trying to take my life! But what was God’s reply to him? I have left 7,000 men for Myself who have not bowed down to Baal. In the same way, then, there is also at the present time a remnant chosen by grace. (Rom 11:3-5)
 
Dene Ward

Now that we have Jephthah’s vow straightened out, maybe it’s a good idea to look at his daughter.  (See posts on 8/28 and 29.)

              First, let’s realize her age.  If she was not married in that culture, she had not yet, or had barely reached the age of puberty.  The custom was to marry the daughters off once they reached that age.  John MacArthur says they were generally betrothed at 13 for one year and then married, so this girl could not have been over 14.

              Let’s take a side trip here to forestall a few wrong conclusions.  Even if puberty arrives earlier nowadays than it did in ancient times, as some scientists seem to believe, it doesn’t mean maturity does.  One is physical and the other mental.  In that time those young people were expected to be responsible enough to raise and provide for children as soon as they were able to have them.  Do we expect that of our children?

              Even as late the 19th and early 20th centuries young men were working to help provide for the family as young as 12 or 14.  Boys brought up on farms were doing men’s work at 8 or 10.  Girls were caring for baby brothers and sisters, and working as hard as their mothers in the house and field at the same age.  No wonder they were ready to marry in their early teens, and no wonder they could make a valid commitment to God at an early age.  They weren’t pining to be a fireman one day and an astronaut the next.  They understood responsibility and lifetime commitment and were ready for it.  Maturity isn’t about knowing facts and answering questions.  Neither is spirituality.  Be careful what you equate.  Culture does make a difference.

              So this very young teenager has just found out that her life is going to be different than she ever expected because of a decision her father has made, not one she has made.  Can’t you just see the TV depiction of a teenager today?  Standing hipshot, she crosses her arms, rolls her eyes and whines, “Da-uhd!”  This isn’t fair.  This isn’t what I planned.  I had dreams and you ruined them all!  It’s my life not yours!

              Don’t think for a minute that a child has no responsibility to his parents’ vows.  As soon as a man accepts the office of an elder, his family is accepting extra scrutiny, extra inconvenience as he performs his work, and less of his time.  The same is true of a deacon though in a lesser way.  The same is certainly true of a man who gives his life to preaching the gospel.  It doesn’t lessen his own obligations to his family, but it does increase his family’s obligations to God.  It also means their behavior must be above reproach. 

              Let’s be realistic here.  No, it isn’t only elders, deacons, and preachers’ families who must behave themselves, but the ramifications are much worse since they represent the local church, and the Lord, in the eyes of the world.  The world may very well be wrong about what they expect of these men, but it is simply naïve to think it doesn’t work that way.

              Then there is this point—every Christian has vowed his life to God.  So in a very real way, every Christian family is under the microscope.  As soon as a child crosses the line, you know what everyone thinks—wasn’t he raised better than that?  As soon as his life deviates from the life a Christian should live, the world suddenly looks at his parents differently.  Even if it is not their fault, even if they have done the best they possibly could have, someone will lose respect for that couple, and certainly for the life they have espoused.  No, it isn’t always fair, but what is it we always tell our children?  Life isn’t fair.

              Every one of us is someone’s child.  If you were blessed as I was to have godly parents, they vowed you to God just as surely as Jephthah vowed his daughter.  They said, “We will raise this child to serve you all his life.”  Have you honored that vow?
 
"Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children-- how on the day that you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, the LORD said to me, 'Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so.' Deut 4:9-10
 
Dene Ward
 

Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment. John 7:24
 
              What do you really know about Jephthah? All your life you have heard about the violent man who made a rash vow and lived to regret it when he killed his daughter as a burnt offering to God.  If you have not read the first of these two articles, close this one now and go do so.  No one knows anything good about Jephthah because we have let our preconceived notions keep us from looking at his life any further—who wants to use a man who killed his daughter as an example? Today we are going to fix that.

              One of the most obvious things about Jephthah is his desire for peace.  Jephthah—a peacemaker.  Does that surprise you?  Here is a man run off by his half-brothers because his mother was a prostitute, who takes up with a band of renegades out in the wilderness to survive.  Does that remind you of anyone?  David’s run from Saul comes instantly to mind—David, “a man after God’s own heart.”  So don’t judge Jephthah’s living arrangements harshly, unless you are willing to treat David likewise. 

              Despite his companions, when Jephthah was approached to save his people from the Ammonites, instead of rushing immediately to war, he tried to reason with the enemy.  He practically quoted two whole chapters of Numbers.  This man knew the writings of Moses—another reason we know he knew the law—and was not impulsive at all.  So much for “rashness.”

              How about us?  Do we know God’s word well enough to quote it when needed?  And do we try to keep the peace, even with our enemies, or are we chomping at the bit to get into a fight so we can strut our stuff?  Jephthah knew the cost of violence, and he didn’t want anything to do with it if he could stop it.  Spiritual fighting works the same way.  There will be casualties when the need arises.  Don’t rush into it if things can be settled peacefully and the truth remain unsullied.

              Jephthah kept his vow.  Don’t think for a minute that his daughter was the only one who lost out in this case.  Remember the culture.  She was his only child, the only descendant, and descendants and inheritances in the Promised Land were a big deal.  In fact, he knew that because of his vow, those half-brothers who had run him off in the first place would now receive his inheritance.  But this man who put God in every part of his life, kept the vow anyway.  “If Jehovah give me the victory,” he said to his half brothers.  “Jehovah our God gave us this land,” he told the Ammonite king.  “Whoever Jehovah our God dispossesses, we will dispossess,” he added.  He made the vow, “unto Jehovah.”  And notice this, “The Spirit of Jehovah came upon Jephthah…and Jephthah vowed a vow,” 11:29,30.  Surely the Spirit of Jehovah would have left him if he intended to sacrifice anyone in a bloody way.

              Jephthah was a man of faith.  The Hebrew writer holds him up as our example.  He remained faithful despite ill treatment from both his family and the people of God.  How many times have you heard the excuse for leaving the church, “They treated me wrong? If that’s the way the church is I don’t want anything to do with it.”  Jephthah put God first in every consideration.  He knew that God was with his people so that’s where he needed to be, despite how he had been treated.  His own feelings were not more important than the plan of God.

              Would you have ever known the examples this man set if you had not gotten past the barrier of ignorance surrounding his devoting his daughter to God?  It isn’t even logical to believe that he killed her.  Who would have offered the sacrifice?  Only a priest could offer an acceptable sacrifice, and which one would have ever dared?  Jephthah knew the law and would never have done it himself.  Saul did offer a sacrifice and lost his kingdom for doing so.  King Uzziah did burn incense on the altar of incense and was immediately struck with leprosy.  Jephthah did not know about them, but we do.  God does not stand for disobedience in the rituals of His service.  He would not have stood for it from Jephthah either.  The man obviously obeyed God’s laws in all its particulars, including the manner in which he devoted his daughter to God.

              Remember context.  Remember word studies.  Remember to think.  And don’t ever forget the lessons Jephthah has to teach us.
 
And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets-who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight…Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, Heb 11:32-34; 12:1.
             
Dene Ward

Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment. John 7:24
 
              One of my women’s classes just reached the story of Jephthah’s daughter.  Once again I have enjoyed watching the dawning of realization in the eyes of those who thought they knew something but found otherwise, followed by the absolute joy of discovery as they looked again at old passages and found new things.  It’s addictive.

              Studying Judges 11 is about learning what “context” really means.  The context of that chapter isn’t just the chapters before and after.  It isn’t even just the whole book of Judges.  The context involves the Law of Moses, both the historical and legal aspects, the prophets, and even the gospels. 

              Jephthah did with his daughter “according to his vow,” 11:39.  If you want to know exactly what he did, you first need to investigate the laws about vows.

              There was absolutely nothing wrong with making a vow.  All my life I have heard about the “rash vow made in the heat of battle.”  Wrong.  The vow was well before the battle.  I have heard about “the lack of faith in making a deal with God—if you’ll do this God, I’ll do that.”  Wrong.  The law expected men to make such vows.  It was common and considered a sign of piety and devotion to God.  After all, they went to God with their requests, not to an idol.  In fact, Jacob and Hannah both made vows with the same formula (Gen 28 and 1 Sam 1), as did others.

              Jephthah did not expect an animal to greet him at the gate when he came home.  The correct reading of 11:31 is whosoever not whatsoever.  Perhaps he expected a servant to be outside working, to see him coming from a distance and meet him to help him unload his gear.  Whoever he expected, it was not his daughter. 

              The Law did make provisions for vowing people.  Just read Leviticus 27.  When a person was vowed to God, they were redeemed with a certain amount of money, and then their lives devoted to God.  Ever read the story of Hannah and Samuel?  Hannah did the same thing to Samuel that Jephthah planned to do to whoever came to meet him, vowed him to God, which to his dismay turned out to be his daughter.

              Besides knowing the law, it helps to know the meaning of the word “devoted.”  The Israelites were required to “devote” Jericho to God as the firstfruits of the land of Canaan.  To do this they burned it, Josh 6:18,24, except for a few things that were “devoted” to the treasury.  That Hebrew word for “devoted,” is also translated “cursed,” “destroyed,” “consecrated,” or “dedicated,” depending upon what is devoted.  It is found all through Lev 27, the very place we found how to vow people to God.  When Jephthah speaks of offering a “burnt offering,” he is simply using an idiom for “devoting” someone to God.  According to the law, she had to be redeemed instead of killed and burned.

              So how was she devoted to God?  Evidently it involved celibate service of some kind.  What was it she mourned?  Her virginity—the fact that she would never marry, 11:37, not impending death.  What happened immediately after he fulfilled his vow?  “She knew not a man” 11:39, evidently for the rest of her life.  That phrase makes no sense if she were killed. For men celibacy was not an issue--Samuel had sons--but I can well believe that for women in that culture who wished to vow themselves, or who were vowed by another, it had to be otherwise.  In fact, according to the law, a husband could undo his wife’s vow, so it made sense that she should not put herself in a position where that might happen if she truly wished to devote herself to God.  We read of women who served at the door of the tent of meeting in 1 Samuel 2:22.  In Luke we read of Anna who, after her husband’s death, instead of remarrying, spent her remaining days at the temple, which turned out to be several decades.

              And finally:  in the Law, human sacrifice was perhaps the most odious crime listed.  “Thou shalt not…” it plainly said, Lev 18:21.  It was “an abomination,” Deut 12:31.  Anyone who did was to be “put to death,” because God would “set his face against that man,” as well as the people who tolerated it, Lev 20:2-5.  Jephthah was not only not executed, he served as judge for six more peaceful years, Judges 12:7, and that was after successfully putting down a rebellion, 12:1-6.  Get out your Bibles and read your prophets, particularly Jeremiah 19.  God would never have allowed Jephthah to continue as judge, or succeed in battle (“and the Lord gave them into his hand” 11:32), if he had participated in human sacrifice.

              See what I mean about context?  Where did we go to find all this information about vows and devoting people to God?  We went to Leviticus, Deuteronomy, Joshua, 1 Samuel, Jeremiah, and Luke.  If you don’t know your scriptures, you can make some dreadful mistakes.  For one thing, you can misjudge a man and completely miss some of the lessons his faithful life can teach you—which we will look at next time.
 
American Standard Version (1901)--And the daughters of Israel went yearly to celebrate the daughter of Jephthah…
New World Translation--...the daughters of Israel would go to give commendation to the daughter of Jephthah…
King James Version, New Encyclopedic Reference Edition margin--And the daughters of Israel went yearly to talk with the daughter of Jephthah the Gileadite four days in the year. Judges 11:40.
 
Dene Ward

We don't do this in our culture.  The Native Americans did it.  Who has not heard the old country song about Running Bear and Little White Dove, or seen the movie "Dances with Wolves?"  No, generally speaking, we do not name our children based upon the English language.  In fact, there are few names in our culture that actually have a meaning in our language—names like Faith, Hope, Joy, April, or Tuesday.  But Bible names meant something in the language of the day.  If we translated Joshua, instead of just transliterating it, it would be "Jehovah saves" and that is what Mr. and Mrs. Nun were saying every time they called their little boy.

              I suppose most of us know that, but we still miss a lot when we don't stop to ponder the meaning of Bible names.  Take the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis.

              Too many people are so busy trying to make Joseph into the first coming of the Messiah that they won't let him be what he was:  a slightly spoiled, rich teenager who was probably scared to death when his brothers sold him.  Still though, I am sure he had hope.  He was, after all, a rich man's son.  And his favorite son at that.  "Surely Daddy will come get me," he must have thought, looking down the dusty road day after day as he literally slaved away.

              But even Joseph, after 13 years, gave up hope.  He had no idea his father thought he was dead.  So when Pharaoh rewards him with position, wealth, and a wife, at the birth of his first son, what does he name him?  "Manasseh."  So? You ask.  Manasseh means "to cause to forget."  "For God has made me forget…all my father's house" Gen 41:51   

             Joseph gave up on a family he thought had thrown him away. As second in the kingdom, he could easily have made the trip east to visit, but he never did.  When his brothers showed up, everything he did was to bring Benjamin, his only full brother and the only brother who did not sell him, down to Egypt to live with him.  He didn't know until he overheard the brothers talking that his father thought he was dead and that they were penitent of their horrible deed.  That is when he turned away from them and wept.  This is the human Joseph and you can understand exactly how he felt.

             But you can also learn this lesson.  He may have given up on his family, but he never gave up on God.  How easy would it have been to deny God because of all the hardship he endured, to enjoy the sin so extravagantly set before him by a promiscuous Egyptian woman, and to have curried favor among the pagans?  But he never gave up on God.  He never blamed God for his troubles.  Instead he continued serving to the best of his ability in whatever state he found himself. 

             Knowing the meaning of a name and allowing it to help you recognize a mindset can give you real encouragement, far more than ignoring the names and setting Joseph up on a pedestal from which he never had a negative thought or motive can.  These are real people God gave us as examples, not super-heroes.  They had real feelings and real motivations.  If Joseph can stay faithful, so can we.
 
The name of the second he called Ephraim, “For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.” (Gen 41:52)
 
Dene Ward

Peter still didn’t get it.

            "Lord, do you wash my feet?"

            Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

            Peter said to him, "You shall never wash my feet."

            Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no share with me."

            Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" (John 13:6-9)

            Typical Peter, we always say, always overdoing it.  No, he didn’t overdo it.  He didn’t go far enough, in fact.  None of them did.  Not a one of them said, “No, Lord.  We ought to be washing YOUR feet.”           

            It wasn’t that difficult a concept.  Two women had already figured it out, one identified as “a sinful woman” in Luke 7, and then Mary, Lazarus’s sister, in John 12. 

            One of those apostles should have said, “Why didn’t we think of that?” but none of them did, not even the three from that inner circle.  If ever they failed to show their understanding of who Jesus really was, it was that night in the upper room.  In fact, instead of serving him as Mary did a few days earlier, they all, not just Judas, resented the fact that so much was spent on that very gesture (Matt 26:8).

            But just a few weeks later—“afterward,” as Jesus had said--they did get it.  All of them, even that apostle born out of season, figured out what service and humility meant.  For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake, 2 Cor 4:5.  Paul and all the others except John were ultimately martyred in their service to the Lord, along the way serving others at huge costs.  They washed their Lord’s feet, not with water, but with their own blood.

            Do we get it?  Do we understand humility, or is saving face more important?  Can we give it all up for Christ, or do our opinions and think-sos matter more than the body for which he died?  Can we subject ourselves, our preferences, our goods, even our lifestyles to others for their souls’ sakes, 1 Cor 9:20-22? 

            I once spoke about subjection at a women’s meeting.  As I was giving an illustration one of the women spoke out loud for all to hear, “That’s where I draw the line.”  No, we were not discussing Acts 5:29 where such a statement would have been appropriate.  We were just talking about sacrificing for others.  Yet she wasn’t even embarrassed to say such a thing.  She obviously didn’t get it.   If she had been next to Peter that horrible night, she would have been happy to sit back and let the Lord wait on her, as long as the water wasn’t too hot and the towel was nice and soft.

            Consider this thought for a moment: what would I have done that night?  Would I have gone at least as far as Peter and the rest, and let the Lord wash my feet, learning the whole lesson eventually?  Or would I have already been there with my pan in hand, as those two other women had been, ready to wait on him and his disciples, anxious to show my devotion to my Lord and Master? 

            Now take it a step farther:  what am I willing to do today?  Am I willing to wash feet, not just with time, effort, and money, but with my own blood?  If we would draw a line anywhere, Satan will make sure we come face to face with that line sometime in our lives.
 
Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.  Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven--for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." And he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Luke 7:44-48.
 
Dene Ward
 

I am sure you have experienced the feeling.  A favorite book is made into a movie, and then you find out who will play the starring role.  “No!” you think.  “Not him!”  He is too old, too young, too scrawny, too short, too “pretty.”  Whatever it is, you had already pictured the character in your mind and since this actor doesn’t fit your preconceived notions, you are not happy.

              It doesn’t really matter when it comes to movies.  It might very well matter when it comes to the Lord.

              I am sure we all picture Jesus in our minds.  Most of the time we need to scrap the picture entirely.  He was Jewish.  He was probably medium height for the day, which is considerably shorter than nowadays.  Isaiah plainly says he would not be handsome, and even that is predicated upon that culture’s view of things.  He certainly wasn’t pale and blue-eyed with a medium shade of brown hair as he is so often shown in pictures.

              He also didn’t act the way we think he did.  Too often we let modern society’s view of a milksop color our views of how he spoke and taught, how he interacted with others, and the emotions he might have shown.  Yes, he could be incredibly gentle, even with the sinners and especially with women and children.  But he could crack a stinging verbal whip as well.

              One of the ways I study, especially a passage that is already familiar to me, is to choose a word in it and look for every other use of that word I can find, trying to discover something new, or a deeper way of looking at a verse or event.

              Take the word “cry,” which is nearly as often translated “cry out.”  Strong’s says the word means “scream” or even “shriek.”  In Mark 9:27 two blind men cry out to Jesus, “Have mercy on us.”  In Mark 9:24, a desperate father cries out to Jesus because of his fatally ill child.  In Matt 27: 23 the mob cried out, Let him be crucified.  In Acts 19:28 and 32, in the midst of a riot and confusion, people cried out.

              Now let me make it even more obvious for you.  That Greek word is krazo, from which we get the English word “crazy.”  Are you getting the picture of what a person who did this would look like?  His voice would not be quiet.  His face would not be calm.  His actions would definitely be agitated.  It would probably not be a pleasant experience to be anywhere near him.  I learned all this years ago when I was studying John 7.

              Then cried Jesus in the temple as he taught…John 7:28.  Yes, it is the same word.  Jesus was not a mealy-mouthed preacher.  He could rant with the best of them.  Even his apostles occasionally followed his example (Acts 23:6).  No, this was not his only method as we have indicated above, but it would be a good idea to examine the people who caused this reaction in him.  I wouldn’t want him to speak to me that way.

              Don’t let a mistaken view of the Lord make you take less than seriously the things he says.
 
…when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus, 2 Thes 1:7,8.
 
Dene Ward