And Jephthah came to Mizpah to his house, and behold, his daughter came out to meet him with tambours and with dances; and she was an only child besides her he had neither son nor daughter.
Jephthah comes home from the war a winner. The first person through his door is his daughter, dancing and playing a tambourine. Then comes the line that turns the victory into grief: she was his only child, and her father had already promised away whatever met him first.
The Hebrew word behind "only child" carries more than a number. One writer follows it into the New Testament as well:
To sum up, the words YACHID in the Old Testament, and MONOGENES in the New, both seem to join the meanings of "only," "solitary," and "dear." Of the eternal Son, He stands out in affection, as an only child would with a loving human parent.
Jephthah made his promise before the battle. He worded it so widely that a person, not an animal, was likely to meet him at the door.
Here the man's rashness enters the scene, and the result is painful in the extreme. We have seen the power of God at work in deliverance. But man on his own cannot even make a safe vow to the Lord... If he had stopped to think, he could hardly have expected an ox or a sheep to walk out of the house.
God had already given Jephthah grace and power. The vow added terms to that:
He was not content with God's grace and power. He did not know what God is really like, so he made a vow to the Lord. He struck a deal with God, as if the two of them were making a mutual agreement. By binding himself before Him in this legal way, he fell into the same error Israel made in the wilderness of Sinai.
Readers have long divided over what Jephthah did next. Some hold that the plain sense of the story is the true one, and that his character fits it:
I have never been able to shake the conviction that Jephthah did what every simple reader of the passage believes he did... I could never think that a man of Jephthah's makeup was too tender-hearted to do just what he said he would do. Soon afterwards this same man took the fords of the Jordan and, with a clear conscience, cut the throats of forty-two thousand of his fellow Israelites.
Others argue from the law that no one could have carried out such a sacrifice. They read the vow as a life given to God unmarried:
There is not a word about death in her case... But Jephthah's words to the king of Ammon show that he knew the law, and the law forbade such an offering as something detestable. No altar was available for it. No priest would have performed it. And the two months of mourning in the mountains gave plenty of time for news of the planned sacrifice to spread far in Israel. The Hebrew also allows "or I will offer it up" in place of "and I will offer it up."
Another father was once told to offer his only child. One writer sets the two side by side, then looks at what the daughter herself gave up:
God said to Abraham, "Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love." But Abraham offered up his son "by faith," at God's command. Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, and that was simply a lack of faith. The words "only," "only begotten," remind us again of a greater than Isaac... When faith was lacking in the father, it shone out brightly in his poor child. She suffered in another way too, one that was deeply painful for every woman of faith in Israel, whose desire was to be the mother of descendants who might become the family line of the Messiah. But this only daughter agreed to be cut off from the scene with no children.
One writer traces a line from what Jephthah did to his daughter on to what he did next:
Is it not true that Jephthah first offers up the daughter of his heart, and then slaughters his own countrymen?... So you will find that this sternness and harshness carried the man past simple faithfulness to God, on into the destruction of his own people.
- Vow. Jephthah bargained with God instead of resting in the grace and power already given him. He worded the bargain so widely that no animal was likely to meet it.
- Victory. God's power gave the victory. The vow added nothing to it, and Jephthah was left with the cost of his own words.
- Cost. The child at the door was "only," "solitary," and "dear" — the same range of meaning Scripture uses of God's only Son.
- Contrast. Abraham offered his only son by faith, at God's command. Jephthah offered his only daughter by his own will. The faith shone in the child, not the father.
- Consequence. Hardness does not stop at one person. The sternness Jephthah showed at home he soon turned on his fellow Israelites.
And it came to pass, when he saw her, that he rent his garments, and said, Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low, and thou art one of them that trouble me; for I have opened my mouth to Jehovah, and I cannot go back.
Jephthah has just won a crushing victory over Ammon. The first person through his door is his only child, dancing to meet him. He tears his clothes and tells her she has ruined him. His words raise two questions: what had he promised, and was he right to keep it?
The Spirit of the Lord had already come on Jephthah before he said a word about a vow. One writer sees the vow as the flesh breaking out in a man who already had all the grace and power he needed.
"The Spirit of Jehovah came upon Jephthah." How often the flesh shows itself in us, as it did in him. He was not content with divine grace and power. Not knowing the true character of God, he "vowed a vow to Jehovah," made an arrangement with God on the footing of a mutual agreement. By binding himself before Him in a legal way, he fell into Israel's error in the wilderness of Sinai.
Notice where his grief lands. She is the one who has brought him low, he says. One writer points out where the fault really lay, and what to learn about making promises.
Jephthah fell into the trap of making a vow. He did not think through what the result might be… This was certainly a rash vow. Did he expect his wife or daughter to meet him? No. But why not? When his daughter came out, he was shocked and blamed her for bringing him very low, instead of blaming his own foolishness… We may be asked to make a pledge or a promise, but how much better to do good than to promise to do so!
His last words are the ones people argue over. Did keeping the promise show integrity, or was it a second mistake? Commentators differ. One says a promise that commits you to wrongdoing should be confessed, not carried out.
He said that since he had given his word to the Lord, he could not go back on it. It is true that when a promise is made it should be kept. But since the promise involved wrongdoing, it would only be right for Jephthah to confess before the Lord the foolishness of his vow, and so not keep it. This is similar to the vow of Herod, who promised the daughter of Herodias whatever she wanted. When she asked for the head of John the Baptist, he was sorry, but for his oath's sake — supposing this would preserve his integrity! — he ordered the murder of the prophet.
Another writer gives him credit for standing by his word, while still calling the vow rash.
Jephthah was rash in the vow he made, but he stood to it and bore the consequence… We must weigh carefully what we say before God, and not take back what we said for selfish reasons.
The chapter never says outright whether she died or lived on unmarried, and writers take both sides. One writer weighs a literal sacrifice against what the law allowed.
If she was really offered as a sacrifice, that would have been contrary to the law, since only certain clean animals and birds were eligible. One of these may have been offered for her… and she may have been devoted to perpetual virginity. To an Israelite this would have been calamity enough to account for Jephthah's grief.
Another writer warns against softening the story to make it easier.
Scripture nowhere guarantees that even those who acted in faith were spotless. It does not throw a veil, as people love to do, over what is ugly and distressing in those who bear the Lord's name. The very thing the Spirit of God has in view here is to show the frightful results of a vow so little weighed before God… The restraint of the Holy Spirit is as strikingly in keeping with God as the rashness of Jephthah is a solemn warning to us.
He tears his clothes; she does not argue. One writer sets his act beside Abraham's, and finds the faith in the wrong person.
Abraham offered up his son "by faith" at God's command. Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, and this was simply a lack of faith… When faith was missing in the father, it shone out brightly in his poor child. This only daughter… submits herself instead of rebelling or blaming her father… She counted her life as nothing in view of the victory.
- Words — The trouble began with words. Jephthah made his vow before he weighed it, and it had already failed before his daughter appeared.
- Bargain — He was not content with the grace and power God had already given him. He struck a bargain with God instead.
- Blame — He told his daughter she had brought him low, when the foolishness was his own.
- Bind — Commentators differ. Some say a promise to do wrong should be confessed, not kept. Others credit him for standing by his word.
- Contrast — Faith failed in the father and shone in the child. Scripture leaves the outcome in shadow and the rashness in full light, as a warning.
And she said to him, My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth to Jehovah, do to me according to that which has proceeded out of thy mouth; forasmuch as Jehovah has taken vengeance for thee upon thine enemies, upon the children of Ammon.
Jephthah has just come home from victory over Ammon, and his only child has walked out to meet him. His vow now binds him to give her up — yet her answer neither resists nor blames him.
The vow was the father's idea, not God's command. One writer sets Jephthah beside Abraham, whom God told to offer Isaac:
Abraham offered up his son "by faith" at God's command. Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, and that was simply a lack of faith… Faith was lacking in the father, but it shone out brightly in his poor child. This only daughter was marked out for sacrifice beforehand by a rash vow. Yet she submits herself instead of rebelling or blaming her father.
Her answer looks past her father to God, and what it cost her ran deep:
She submitted because of the LORD. Her submission was a faint reflection, no doubt, of Him who said, "I have come to do your will, O God." She counted her life as nothing beside the victory… She suffered in another way too, one deeply painful for every woman of faith in Israel, whose desire was to be the mother of descendants who might become the family line of the Messiah. But this only daughter agreed to be cut off from the scene as a childless woman.
Her words put the weight back on the vow: he spoke to the LORD, so he must act. But commentators say this is where Jephthah went wrong:
It is true that a promise should be kept. But this promise involved wrongdoing. So the right thing for Jephthah was to confess his foolish vow before the Lord and not keep it. This is like the vow of Herod, who promised the daughter of Herodias whatever she wanted (Matt. 14:7). She asked for the head of John the Baptist. He was sorry, but he kept his oath — as if that would preserve his integrity! — and ordered the murder of the prophet.
Her words raise the question that has divided readers ever since: was she killed, or given to God in another way? Commentators differ. Some hold that the plain words of the story allow only a literal sacrifice:
Luther already remarked, "Some maintain that she was not sacrificed, but the text is too clear to allow that interpretation." The plain words of the vow are strong evidence. Stronger still are the distress of the father, the noble resignation of the daughter, and the yearly remembrance and mourning of the daughters of Israel. The law forbade human sacrifice as the worst of all pagan horrors (Lev. 18:21; Deut. 12:31). But the age of the judges had sunk far below the high ground of the law.
Arno Clemens Gaebelein, quoting another writer
Others argue that the language, the law and the two months of mourning point the other way. On this view she was set apart to God, unmarried for life:
There is not a word about death in her case… But Jephthah's words to the king of Ammon show that he knew the law, and by the law such an offering was forbidden as something detestable (Lev. 18:21). No altar could have been found for it, and no priest would have performed it. The two months of mourning in the mountains would also have given plenty of time for news of the planned sacrifice to spread far in Israel.
The same writer notes that the Hebrew word usually translated "burnt offering" means "an offering that ascends" — all of it goes up to God. So the vow itself never promised to burn what he offered.
Whatever happened to her, the vow cast a shadow over a day of deliverance. That is the warning the chapter leaves behind:
Our Lord now plainly forbids such vowing: "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.' But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all." God's will does not need man's will to add to it, only to obey it. Taking on obedience God never asked for only puts you in bondage to your own weakness.
- Rash word. The vow was Jephthah's own idea, not God's command; his own will, not faith, put his daughter under it.
- Willing child. Where the father's faith failed, hers shone. She submitted to God, not just to her father, and counted her life as nothing beside Israel's victory.
- Faint likeness. Her surrender is a small reflection of the One who said, "I have come to do your will, O God."
- Wrong promise. Keep your word — but a promise to do evil is one to confess and break. Herod's oath over John the Baptist shows the cost.
- Disputed end. Did she die, or did she live on unmarried, set apart to God? Commentators differ. Both sides agree the law never asked for such a vow.
And she said to her father, Let this thing be done for me leave me alone two months, that I may go and descend to the mountains, and bewail my virginity, I and my companions.
Jephthah has just beaten the Ammonites, and the first person out of his house to greet him is his only child — the very person his vow claims. She does not protest; she asks for two months in the mountains with her friends, which raises the questions readers still argue over: what was she grieving, and what became of her?
The words are not about a ritual so much as about a future that has been taken away. One writer reads the request as a delay before an offering she believed would end her life:
Jephthah's daughter showed a remarkable submission to her father. She did not protest against this deliberate case of human sacrifice (v. 36). God never gave instructions for such a thing, but Jephthah meant to keep his vow. The girl asked him to put the offering off for two months. In that time she would wander on the mountains with her friends, mourning her virginity — mourning that she would die without ever marrying (v. 37).
Another writer explains why this loss cut so deep for a woman in Israel:
She suffered in another way that was deeply painful for every woman of faith in Israel. Their desire was to be the mother of children who might become the family line of the Messiah. But this only daughter agreed to pass from the scene as a childless woman.
One writer applies her two months to anyone carrying a loss they did not choose:
In a way, being single — perhaps for life — can be a form of suffering, loss and deprivation. So it is natural to feel this and to mourn about it. It is not a sign of being 'unspiritual'… She wanted time to mourn her situation, and then she would surrender to God's ways. There is a time for everything — also for mourning. But sooner or later the time must come when we surrender to God's ways.
This is the great question of the chapter, and writers do not agree. Some hold that the plain sense of the story is the right one, and that Jephthah's character makes it credible:
I must confess that, with all I have read on the subject, I have never been able to shake off the fact that Jephthah did what every simple soul who reads the passage believes he did. I would be glad to think otherwise, but I cannot. He was a stern, self-righteous, self-opinionated man, and there is no tyranny like the tyranny of a self-righteous conscience. A little later he could take the fords of Jordan and with a good conscience cut the throats of forty-two thousand of his fellow Israelites. A man of that makeup was not too tender-hearted to do to his daughter just what he said he would do — offer her up as a burnt offering to the Lord.
Others argue that Jephthah set her apart to the Lord as unmarried for life. This verse is part of their evidence — where she chose to spend those two months:
An animal burnt offering is never called something that "should be to the LORD", for the simple reason that as a burnt offering it already is. But that wording does appear where people are offered to the LORD, as with the firstborn of Israel and with Levi (Num. 3:12-13). Yet no one has ever claimed there was real human sacrifice in those cases. If the loving daughter had given herself up to death, it is next to incredible that she would have wished to spend her last two months in the mountains with her companions, and not with her broken-hearted father.
Arno Clemens Gaebelein, quoting Alfred Edersheim
Either way, the mourning traces back to a promise the father never needed to make:
In any case the history remains a witness to and against the terrible legality of the human heart, which could shadow the joy of such a deliverance at the very moment God granted it… God's will does not need man's will to add to it, only to obey it. To take on obedience that was never asked for is only to put yourself in bondage to your own weakness.
Two fathers in Scripture faced the loss of an only child. One acted in faith, the other by his own will:
Abraham offered up his son "by faith" at God's command; Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, which was simply a lack of faith. The words "only", "only begotten", remind us again of One greater than Isaac… When faith was lacking in the father, it shone out brightly in his poor child. A rash vow had marked out this only daughter for sacrifice beforehand. Christ, on the contrary, was marked out by the settled purpose and foreknowledge of God. Instead of rebelling or blaming her father, she submitted… She submitted because of the LORD, a faint reflection, no doubt, of Him who said, "I have come to do your will, O God."
- The vow. The sorrow starts with a promise God never asked for. It stands as a witness against "the terrible legality of the human heart", which shadowed the joy of victory at the very moment it came.
- The cost. She asks for time to mourn her virginity — no marriage, no children, no share in the family line Israel's women hoped for.
- The mourning. Her two months in the mountains show that grief over a loss you did not choose is natural, not unspiritual. There is a time for mourning.
- The surrender. Mourning has an end. Sooner or later the time comes to surrender to God's ways, as she did.
- The witness. Where the father's faith failed, the daughter's shone. She submitted rather than blamed — a faint reflection of the One who said, "I have come to do your will, O God." Commentators differ: did she die, or did she live on, unmarried and set apart to the Lord?
And he said, Go. And he sent her away for two months. And she went with her companions, and bewailed her virginity upon the mountains.
Jephthah had promised the LORD an offering if He gave him victory over Ammon, and his only child came out to meet him. This verse is the pause before the vow is kept: he agrees to her request, and she goes to the hills to grieve.
The two months were a delay, not a reprieve. Jephthah would not take back what he had said to God, whatever it cost him.
Jephthah was rash in the vow he made, but he stood to it and bore the consequence... We are bound to weigh seriously what we say before God, and not to retract for selfish reasons.
God says nothing through these two months. No voice stops him, and none approves him.
God, leaving Jephthah to the responsibility and consequences of his vow, did not show either approval or disapproval of it. Heaven seemed closed to the voice of the leader of Israel. Still, the Spirit of Jehovah granted him the victory.
Her sorrow is not over dying young in general, but over one specific loss.
The girl asked him to delay the offering for two months. During that time she would wander on the mountains with her friends, weeping for her virginity — that is, grieving that she would die without ever being married.
There was a second loss behind the first.
She suffered in another way too, one deeply painful for every woman of faith in Israel, whose desire was to be the mother of a line that might become the ancestry of the Messiah. But this only daughter agreed to be cut off from the scene as a childless woman.
She asked for time to grieve before she gave herself up. Grief over an unwanted single life is not a sign of weak faith.
In a certain way the condition of singleness (maybe for life) can be a form of suffering, loss and deprivation. Therefore, it is natural and not a sign of being 'unspiritual' to feel this and to mourn about it... She wanted time to mourn her situation and then she would surrender to God's ways. There is a time for everything — also for mourning. But sooner or later the time must come when we surrender to God's ways.
Commentators differ on what Jephthah did when the two months ended. One view reads the story as a real human sacrifice. It points to the weight of grief in the account.
The plain words of the vow point to a real sacrifice. Stronger still is the grief of the father, the noble surrender of the daughter, and the yearly remembrance and mourning of the daughters of Israel. Strongest of all is the account itself: the writer cannot clearly describe the terrible scene he looks at with both admiration and horror. The Law certainly forbade human sacrifice as the worst of all pagan practices.
Arno Clemens Gaebelein, quoting J. H. Kurtz
Others argue that she was set apart to a life without marriage. They point to this verse — to where she chose to spend those two months.
Suppose the loving daughter had given herself up to death. It would then be almost unbelievable that she wanted to spend her last two months in the mountains with her companions, and not with her heartbroken father.
Arno Clemens Gaebelein, quoting A. Edersheim
The wording of the vow is also part of the argument. The Hebrew word translated "burnt offering" means an offering that goes up. By itself it does not promise that the offering would be burned (Numerical Bible Notes).
The father's faith failed. His daughter's did not.
When faith was lacking in the father, it shone out brightly in his poor child. This only daughter, promised beforehand to the sacrifice by a rash vow, submitted herself instead of rebelling or blaming her father... She submitted for Jehovah's sake — a faint reflection, no doubt, of Him who said: "I have come to do Your will, O God." She counted her life as nothing, in view of the victory.
Jephthah blamed his daughter for what his own mouth had done.
Jephthah fell into the snare of making a vow without proper thought about what the result might be... When his daughter came out, he was shocked and blamed her for bringing him very low, instead of blaming his own foolishness... We may be asked to make a pledge or a promise, but how much better to do good than to promise to do so!
- Words first. The sorrow of these two months began with a vow spoken in haste. Careless promises come with a bill, and often someone else pays it.
- Silence next. God neither approved nor forbade the vow. He gave the victory and left Jephthah to carry the cost of his own words.
- Grief allowed. Two months on the mountains show that mourning a real loss is not unspiritual. There is a time to grieve, and then a time to surrender.
- Dispute noted. Commentators differ on whether she died as a sacrifice or lived on unmarried. Some point to the horror in the account. Others point to where she spent her last weeks — with her friends, not her father.
- Faith last. Where the father's faith failed, the daughter's shone. She counted her life as nothing beside the victory God had given.
And it came to pass at the end of two months, that she returned to her father, and he performed on her the vow that he had vowed; and she had known no man. And it became a fixed custom in Israel,
Judges 11 ends with one of the hardest lines in the Bible: Jephthah came home and kept his vow. What he did — and why God allowed it — has divided readers ever since.
Commentators differ. One reading takes the words at face value: this man's own character makes the plain sense the likely one.
I must confess that, with everything I have read on the subject, I still cannot shake the conviction that Jephthah did what every simple soul who reads the passage believes he did. I would be glad to think otherwise. But this man was stern, self-righteous and set in his own opinions. I cannot believe he was too tender-hearted to do just what he said he would do with his daughter, and offer her up as a burnt offering to the Lord.
The other reading rests on the vow's own wording. Jephthah promised two things: whatever met him "shall be the Lord's, and I will offer it up for a burnt offering." The second clue is where she spent her two months — away from her father.
The great Jewish commentators of the Middle Ages have pointed out that these two last clauses are not identical. No one says of an animal burnt offering that it "should be to Jehovah." As a burnt offering, it already is. But Scripture does use that expression when human beings are given to Jehovah, as with the firstborn in Israel and with Levi. In those cases no one has ever suggested actual human sacrifice. And if the loving daughter had been giving herself up to death, it is next to incredible that she would spend her last two months in the mountains with her companions rather than with her broken-hearted father.
Arno Clemens Gaebelein, quoting A. Edersheim
Notice what is missing from the story: any word from God about the vow.
God left Jephthah with the responsibility and the consequences of his vow, and showed neither approval nor disapproval of it. Heaven seemed closed to the voice of Israel's leader. Yet the Spirit of Jehovah granted him the victory.
She is the only child, and she makes no protest. Abraham and Isaac come to mind, but the two fathers acted from opposite motives.
Abraham offered up his son "by faith," at God's command. Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, which was simply a lack of faith… The father lacked faith, but it shone out brightly in his poor child. A rash vow had marked out this only daughter for sacrifice, and she submits instead of rebelling or blaming her father… She submitted for Jehovah's sake — a faint reflection, no doubt, of Him who said, "I have come to do Your will, O God."
Jephthah's story does not end with his daughter.
Is it not true that Jephthah first offered up the daughter he loved, and then slaughtered his own countrymen? The man, it seems, reduced everything to one dead level. He had his sword drawn. He had killed the Ammonites, so he would kill his daughter, if he had promised God to do it. And having killed his daughter, he would take the fords of the Jordan and kill the Ephraimites… Have we not seen too much of that — treating the people of God exactly as we would treat the enemies of God?
The story is a standing warning against binding yourself by promises God never asked for.
In any case, the history stands as a witness to and against the terrible legal spirit of the human heart. That spirit could darken the joy of such a deliverance at the very moment God gave it. Our Lord now forbids such vowing outright: "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.' But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all." God's will does not need man's will added to it, only obeyed. To take on obedience that was never asked for is only to put yourself in bondage to your own weakness.
The verse ends by noting that this became a custom in Israel. That custom holds a lesson for us.
After Jephthah's daughter was gone, the daughters of Israel took up a custom of going to the mountains four days each year to lament for her. Is there not a lesson in this for us today? One may be the victim of an unfair action, and we can do nothing about it. At least we can remember that injustice in self-judgment before the Lord. This is different from raising an indignant outcry against injustice — a common practice today — but learning to judge ourselves will bear much more good fruit than judging others.
- The vow — a promise made in the heat of victory drives the whole story. Nothing costs Jephthah as much as his own mouth.
- The debate — did she die, or live out her life unmarried? Commentators differ. The case turns on the vow's two clauses and on how she spent her two months.
- The silence — God gave the victory but no verdict. Jephthah carried the full weight of his own promise.
- The daughter — her father acted from self-will. She submitted for Jehovah's sake, echoing the One who came to do God's will.
- The lesson — hardness toward an enemy turned next on his own child, then on his own people. Make no rash vows, and judge yourself before you judge others.
that from year to year the daughters of Israel go to celebrate the daughter of Jephthah the Gileadite four days in the year.
The chapter ends not with a victory parade but with grief. Year after year, the young women of Israel went out to remember Jephthah's daughter. That short note raises two questions. What happened to her? And why does Scripture leave the answer half in shadow?
One writer draws a lesson from this custom for anyone who has been wronged and can do nothing about it.
The daughters of Israel took up a custom of going four days each year to the mountains to lament for her. One may be the victim of an unfair action, and we can do nothing about it. At least we can remember this injustice in self-judgment before the Lord. This is different from raising an indignant outcry against injustice, which is common today. Learning to judge ourselves will bear much more good fruit than judging others.
Commentators differ here. One side reads the yearly mourning as evidence that she died.
Some maintain that she was not sacrificed, but the text is too clear to admit of this interpretation. But there is stronger evidence of her sacrifice than even the plain words of the vow. It lies in the distress of the father, in the noble resignation of the daughter, and in the yearly commemoration and lamentation of the daughters of Israel. Above all, it lies in the account of the historian himself. He cannot describe clearly the terrible scene he looks at with both admiration and horror. The Law certainly forbade human sacrifice as the worst of all heathen abominations. But the age of the judges had sunk far below the high position of the Law.
Others read the same verses as a life given up, not a life taken.
Most recent commentators agree, and believe that his daughter was simply consecrated to God, to live an unmarried life. Verses 37-39 seem plainly to show it. But Jephthah's words to the king of Ammon show that he knew the law; and by the law such an offering was forbidden as an abomination. No altar could have been found for it. No priest would have performed it. And the two months of mourning on the mountains would have given plenty of time for news of the intended sacrifice to spread far in Israel.
Much of that reading rests on the word usually translated "burnt offering."
After all, in Hebrew the word does not mean "burnt offering." It means simply an "offering that ascends" — all ascends — to God. And this makes a great difference. Jephthah did not pledge that the offering would be burnt, though that was how an animal sacrifice would "ascend."
The Bible does not tidy up the record of people who served God in faith.
Scripture does not throw a veil, as man loves to do, over what is ugly and distressing in those who bear the Lord's name. That is because the very thing the Spirit of God has in view here is to show the frightful results of a vow so little weighed before God, and not drawn from His guidance at all... As the vow was made without God, so an outcome was allowed that was deeply offensive to the Holy Spirit.
One writer traces the trouble back to what Jephthah did not know about God.
"The Spirit of Jehovah came upon Jephthah." How often the flesh shows itself in us, as it did in him. He was not content with divine grace and power. He did not know the true character of God. He "vowed a vow to Jehovah" and made an arrangement with God on the basis of a mutual agreement. Binding himself before Him in a legal way, he fell into Israel's error in the wilderness of Sinai.
The remedy is not better vowing but no vowing at all.
Our Lord now forbids such vowing outright. He said: "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.' But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all." God's will does not need man's will to add to it, only to obey it. To undertake obedience that was never asked for is only to put oneself in bondage to one's own weakness.
The father is the one who failed; the daughter is the one Israel commemorates.
Abraham offered up his son "by faith" at God's command. Jephthah offered his daughter by an act of his own will, which was simply a lack of faith... When faith was lacking in the father, it shone out brightly in his poor child. This only daughter... is seen submitting herself, instead of rebelling or blaming her father.
- Vow — Jephthah was not content with God's grace and power; he struck a bargain with God, binding himself in a legal way.
- Cost — that bargain, not the battle, is what brought the grief. Obedience never asked for only binds you to your own weakness.
- Question — did she die, or was she set apart to an unmarried life? Commentators differ. One side points to the Hebrew word, which means only "an offering that ascends."
- Silence — Scripture does not veil what is distressing in those who bear the Lord's name. The point is to show what a vow made without God produces.
- Memory — Israel's answer was four days a year of lament, not outcry. A wrong you cannot undo, you can still bring before the Lord in self-judgment.