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.