Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

The offer seemed nearly too good to be true, too simple to be trusted. They had never liked him. They despised his parentage, chased him off their land, vowed he would receive no portion of his father’s inheritance. Now his half-brothers, legitimate sons of his father, were calling for his return. Begging. Pleading. Promising. They needed him. His strength. His commanding presence. His head for battle. The Ammonites were on the war path, and Israel was scared. Terrified, really. The army encamped against them was worrisome. At the end of their wits and the bottom of their resources, the worried men of Gilead sent word to Jephthah. If he would come defeat the Ammonites, they would make him their ruler. Simple as that.   

Jephthah’s reputation clearly preceded him. He was a mighty warrior, a strong leader. He’d had to be. His life had been spent fighting. For a space at the table, a place to belong, an area where he was recognized for who he was, not for who his parents were. The son of a prostitute, his father may have taken him in, but his half-brothers despised him. Bearing the brunt of his mother’s scorned profession and his father’s indiscretion, Jephthah lived ready to fight. After being unceremoniously ushered from his father’s land without an ounce of inheritance, his ability to lead had been proven by the formation of his own ragtag group of rebels. Jephthah wasn’t sitting around waiting for his half-brothers to come calling. He was building a life for himself. Married a wife. Had a daughter. No other children had come along, but that was fine. He adored his daughter. And now, just as his life seemed to be settling into a decent rhythm, the people who had pushed him out of Gilead were back begging for his help and making promises he wasn’t sure they could keep. 

Not that he wasn’t interested in testing the theory. He was. Jephthah was absolutely interested in becoming the leader of the people who had kicked him out. What a boon that would be! And the Ammonites were being ridiculous. They had no claim to the land. If they had a claim, if they really wanted it, they wouldn’t have waited 300 years to come and try to take it. Not once in that time had the Ammonites attempted to take it back, by force or any other means. What stirred them up now was anyone’s guess. Yet here they were, claiming the land had been stolen from them generations past and demanding that it be peaceably handed back. As if that was going to happen. 

It wasn’t. Not today. Not any day. Not so long as Jephthah had any say about it. The way he understood the story, Israel had never taken the land. They had never been anything but peaceable about things. Asking permission to cross lands rather than simply barging across. Going out of their way to appease the kings of Edom and Moab. Trying to work with King Sihon. Unfortunately, his response to their request was to start a war against Israel. A war God finished. In response to the military attack by King Sihon, Israel defended itself. And God brought an astonishing victory. One that gave Israel control of the entire region. They had been there ever since. God’s victory. God’s land. God’s gift to Israel. The Ammonites were welcome to come try to take it. And they did. (Numbers 21:21-35)

The Ammonite king wasn’t picking up what Jephthah was laying down. Perhaps the man was daft. He was bent on war. And he got it. Gathering fighting men from throughout the land, Jephthah built a mighty army. He lined them up in a battle array. Then Jephthah did something that seems completely unnecessary given his seemingly faith-filled speech to the king of Ammon. Something that seems to indicate his heart might have been more interested in that position of power than he previously let on. Something that appears to reveal doubt lurking just below the surface of his brave facade. Jephthah bargains with God. Not just any bargain, either. Jephthah makes an “If you…I will…” vow. If God will give them victory over the Ammonites, Jephthah will give God the first thing that comes out of his house to meet him when he returns. As a sacrifice. A burnt offering. 

The Bible does not record a response from God to this vow. Nothing verbal. No special sign. Lightning doesn’t flash to seal the deal. The earth doesn’t shake. God seems to remain silent where the vow is concerned. But He does give them victory. Jephthah and his army crushed the Ammonites. Devastated their towns. Scattered their armies. Left absolutely no question as to who now owned that land. God gave Israel victory. And Jephthah had a promise to keep.  

Returning home, Jephthah should have been riding high on the wave of glorious victory. He wasn’t. His heart was heavy. His soul was burdened. His mind kept replaying the rash vow he made to God. What had he been thinking? Why had he said those words? What momentary blip occurred in his brain to make him vow such a thing? It had the potential to end badly. He knew it. In his spirit, he knew things could go enormously wrong. And they did. 

Nearing his home, Jephthah watched in disbelief as the door flew open and his daughter rushed out. His only child. His cherished girl. Beautiful. Vibrant. Full of life and joy. Her tambourine was in her hand. Her feet were dancing. Her face was brimming with celebratory joy and pride in her father. And Jephthah’s heart shattered. The blood drained from his face. He fought to keep himself upright. When he made the vow, he was only thinking of wheedling and cajoling God into giving them victory so he could be the ruler over the people who wronged him. He hadn’t considered the consequences. Until now. Until he stood facing the daughter he loved more than his own life and realized he had promised God he would offer her as a sacrifice to Him. Jephthah didn’t consider the ramifications of his vow until it came time to perform it. Now he was hesitant to do so. (Judges 11:1-35)

One wonders if Jephthah’s hesitancy would have been the same had something or someone else exited his home. If an animal had come out the door and down the path, would he have fulfilled his vow on the spot with no remorse? If someone of whom he was not fond exited as he approached, would he have found his promise as difficult to keep? Probably not. It doesn’t work that way for us, either. When the promises we make to God are easy and palatable to keep, we have no problem fulfilling them. When they cost us little or nothing, we fulfill our vows and move on. But what about the ones that cost us? The ones we make in the dark of night when our prayers are urgent, our situation dire, our needs and wants so pressing we will do anything to bribe God into doing what we want done. What about those promises? Will you really give extra money to missions if God rescues you from joblessness with a six-figure income? Will you dedicate your free time to charity work if He heals your crippling illness? Will you devote your entire life to spreading the gospel all over the world if God grants you whatever wish you have at this moment? Do you really believe the God who made everything and needs nothing is selling His blessings for the paltry sum of your good intentions? When it is all said and done, when God has given you what your heart desires, when your promise is lying next to your trouble in the rearview mirror, do you truly intend to keep the vow you made, or is your heart already searching for a way to renege? 

It seems Jephthah’s heart was looking for a way around his vow. A loophole. A caveat. An opportunity for alteration. At least his daughter thought so. And she wasn’t having it. Although the brunt of the vow fell on her, she bravely took it up. Looked her waffling father straight in the eyes and told him to keep the vow. He had to. He promised. And he did. After two months of roaming the hills, mourning the fact she would never marry and have children, devastated though they were, Jephthah’s daughter came back, and he kept the vow he made to God. Not because it was easy. Not because he wanted to. Not only because he couldn’t find a way around it. Jephthah kept his promise to God because God had done what he asked when he promised. (Judges 11:36-39)

Admittedly, there is no limit of argument among scholars over the vow of Jephthah. Why he made it. Whether or not he was obligated to keep it. How he fulfilled it. The posture of his heart when he did. I’m not really interested in the argument. What interests me, what feels very real for us today, is the pointed way this account depicts for us the truth of Proverbs 20:25, “Don’t make promises to God rashly. Consider the cost first.” I find we are no better at following this advice than Jephthah. (Proverbs 20:25)

Caught in the tension of our own desires and the possibility that God’s plans do not match our own, we often find ourselves bargaining with God. We wrestle. We beg. We plead. We attempt to manipulate. If He will give us the money, the miracle, the motivation, we will give Him something, anything in return. Sitting in that space where our fear outweighs our faith, those promises get out of control. When the clouds finally part and our minds are clear, we look back on them with regret. We search for loopholes, for caveats, for opportunities to alter the wording. Unfortunately, the truth of Deuteronomy 23:21 still holds. God doesn’t take your promises to Him lightly. He doesn’t look at them as possibilities. He expects you to keep them. All of them. (Numbers 30:2; Ecclesiastes 5:4-5; Psalm 76:11; Deuteronomy 23:21) 

So are you? Are you living the life you promised HIm you would when you first came to Him in repentance? Are you following the career path you promised to follow when you heard His call? Have you made the changes you vowed to make when He lovingly highlighted the error of your ways? When conviction settles in your heart, are you obediently keeping the promises you made to salve your conscience and restore your peace? When your desperation to manipulate the outcome of your situation had you throwing yourself on your knees and making promises to God, are you keeping those promises? Are you keeping the promises you made to God in the middle of your storm, your sadness, your suffering? In the face of God’s unfailing love that will not force you to do something against your will, is your word still your bond? Does your integrity show? Are you keeping your promises to God? All of them? Even the ones made in secret and known only to Him? (I John 2:5; Proverbs 11:3, 20:27; Psalm 66:13-14; Malachi 1:14; I Kings 8:39)