And after Abimelech, there rose up to save Israel Tola the son of Puah, the son of Dodo, a man of Issachar; and he dwelt in Shamir on mount Ephraim.
After Abimelech's violent grab at kingship, the book turns to a man whose whole record is a name, a family line, a hometown, and a span of years. He rose to save Israel, yet the verse never says from what — so why does God give this quiet man any space at all?
One commentator finds meaning in the very shortness of the record.
The Abimelechs are largely the ones who make the long chapters in the Bible. God has to break down and humble self-will, and that history needs many details. But where there is divine blessing, where there is a real work of God, a few words can often tell it. As the historian tells us, the most interesting and exciting chapters of history describe the worst times to live in. What seems dull and dreary on the page is really the best time to live in: the era of quietness and prosperity.
The verse names no enemy. One writer takes the missing details as a good sign in itself.
We are not told what he saved Israel from, and we learn nothing of his character or his actions. But if he saved Israel from the idol worship they had adopted, this was good work. Generally, where there is no recorded history the implications are good. He judged Israel twenty-three years and died. Nothing in the good he did particularly stands out, yet nothing stands against him either.
Another writer weighs the word "arose."
Of each of these men we read that "he arose," and of Tola that he "arose to save Israel" — more, perhaps, by what he was than by what he did. But the words clearly mark a resurrection time in Israel.
Tola's name means "a worm." One commentator sets that name against the pride it followed.
A worm to judge Israel! A striking contrast, is it not, with the self-assertion of pride? That pride boasts in its descent and in its own strength, and it lays its hand on everything that would not bow to its own will.
The verse names three generations. One writer traces the meaning of each name.
His name is that of the crimson "worm" — the small insect on the oak that gave the "scarlet" or crimson used in the tabernacle… He is the son of Puah, "utterance," who is himself the son of Dodo, "his beloved." So out of the awareness of divine love in the soul comes the "utterance," and in practical life that utterance becomes self-surrender to God.
He belonged to Issachar, but he lived outside his own tribe.
Tola is a man of Issachar, "reward" or "hire" — speaking of the recompense both now and hereafter of the life of faith. But it is striking that he does not live in any of the cities of his own tribe, but in Shamir of Mount Ephraim. In lowliness he leaves the thought of recompense behind. He does not serve for a reward, but in the fruitfulness of a self-surrendered life. A Tola in Ephraim is not in danger of the pride that tribe is especially open to.
One writer finds a clue in the name of his town.
The Shamir in Mount Ephraim where he lives… should speak of unchangeableness — yet not unchangeableness in God, but, as its place in Ephraim implies, unchangeableness of human character. If that was indeed Tola's character, it is easy to understand the twenty-three years' revival under his judgeship.
One writer places Tola among judges whose task differed from that of the deliverers before him.
Scripture mentions other judges who are rich, influential, or prosperous (Judges 10:1-4; Judges 12:8-15). God uses them, no doubt, but more to maintain results already gained than as deliverers… Yet the very weakness of these witnesses glorified the power of Him who could use them.
One writer sees this lowly name pointing beyond Tola himself.
Tola means "a worm." What a contrast with the proud, wicked, domineering Abimelech! Here is one who takes the place of self-abasement. It reminds us of Him whose voice we hear in the great psalm of atonement: "I am a worm and not a man." Tola, no doubt, is a picture of our Lord in His humiliation. When Abimelech's terrible rule ends, He who was obedient to death, even death on a cross, will come to reign in righteousness.
- Love first. Dodo means "his beloved," Puah means "utterance," Tola means "worm." Love awakens speech, and speech ends in self-surrender.
- Lowliness saves. Abimelech grasped at a throne; a man named "worm" rose and saved. Contrast is the point of the placement.
- Quiet is not empty. Long chapters trace the self-will God must break; a few words can cover years of real blessing. Dull pages are often the best times to live in.
- Being over doing. He "arose to save Israel" perhaps more by what he was than by what he did — twenty-three years of blessing, with no deeds listed.
- Christ in the shadow. The worm who judges Israel points to the One who said, "I am a worm and not a man," and who will yet reign in righteousness.
And he judged Israel twenty-three years; and he died, and was buried in Shamir.
Abimelech's violent grab for power has just collapsed, and the man who follows him gets three lines. Twenty-three years pass with no battle and no recorded speech — so why does Scripture mention him at all?
One writer reads the length of a Bible chapter as a measure of the trouble God had to deal with:
The Abimelechs are largely the ones who make the long chapters in the Bible. It is the history of self-will, which God has to break down and humble, that makes so many details necessary. But when there is divine blessing, when there is a real work of God, it can often be described in a few words. As the historian tells us, the times that make the most interesting and exciting chapters of history are the worst times to live in. The stretch that looks dull and dreary on the page is the best time to live in — the era of quietness and prosperity.
Scripture says Tola saved Israel, yet records no battle he fought. One writer weighs what a short record means:
This was a flourishing time for the nation, and that fits well with there being so little history. Man's record is largely one of sorrows and crimes. Most men whose names stand in large letters across the page get their place there through their own sins or the sins of others. These men need no witness but their names, because the names fit them: they are what they claim to be. Of each it is said that "he arose," and of Tola that he "arose to save Israel" — more, perhaps, by what he was than by what he did.
Abimelech's name meant "my father is king." The name of the man who follows him says the opposite:
Tola means "a worm." A worm to judge Israel! A striking contrast — isn't it? — with the self-assertion of pride. Pride boasts in its ancestry and in its own strength, and lays its hand on everything that will not bow to its will.
His name comes third in a line of three, and each name in the line carries meaning:
Dodo, "his beloved," is the first; the second is his son Puah, "speech"; and Tola, "a worm," is the third. The love of God is the source from which everything flows. When someone realises he is the object of that love, he does not lack speech to express what his heart feels. And the fitting result is the lowly setting aside of self, suggested by the worm. Puah, "speech" or "utterance," comes from a root meaning "to breathe." That reminds us of the Spirit, who is breathed into everyone who believes in the love of God as shown in Christ. It reminds us too of praise and confession breathed out in the power of that same Spirit.
Shamir was both his home and his grave, and one writer takes that as a mark of character:
It is worth noting that Tola died and was buried where he had lived. This shows steadfastness and unchangeableness. Death, as we might say, made no change in the principles he stood for.
Tola and Jair each ruled for years, and Scripture records almost nothing of either. One writer sees a pattern in the kind of people God picks:
God made use of them, qualifying even Tola "to save Israel," but He did not glorify Himself by them in any special way. This reminds us of 1 Corinthians 1:26-29… God prefers to use weak vessels. That is why so many of the judges bear, in one way or another, the stamp of weakness. On the other hand, all the value of God's instruments lies in presenting the character of Christ.
One writer carries the worm forward to Christ Himself:
You remember that in Psalm 22 He speaks of Himself as a worm and not a man. He who had the place of highest glory in the heavens took the lowest place. He humbled Himself and made Himself of no reputation. In that we see the character of the One who truly rises to save the people. It is the One who takes His place in humiliation who can judge His people and gather them. All blessing radiates from the cross, and our hope of deliverance comes through Him whose lowliness brought Him there.
- Love first. Dodo means "his beloved," Puah means "speech," Tola means "a worm." Knowing you are loved makes you speak, and speaking ends in lowliness.
- Lowliness rules. A worm judging Israel is the exact reversal of Abimelech, who seized power because his father had held it.
- Lowliness is quiet. Self-will fills long chapters. A real work of God needs only a few words, and the dull page marks the good era to live in.
- Lowliness stays. He died and was buried where he had lived; death changed nothing about the principles he stood for.
- Lowliness saves. He rescued Israel more by what he was than by what he did — and points on to the One who called Himself a worm and not a man.