And he said to her, If they should bind me fast with new ropes, with which no work has been done, then should I be weak, and be as another man.
Delilah has already tied Samson up once and shouted that the Philistines were on him. Her aim is no secret. Yet he answers her again, handing her a second false recipe for his own capture. The real question is not why the ropes failed, but why he lay down beside the same trap twice.
His first answer named fresh bowstrings. This one names something stronger. One writer sees that escalation as Samson's own work: each answer adds a strand to the rope that will hold him:
The next time he gets a little stronger. If he only knew it, he is simply adding another cord to those with which he was to be bound. He has got on further in the downward way. I think we see God's mercy in that, laying His hand on him to bring him back and restore him. But he refuses to listen, and takes a deeper step into evil. So here with these ropes he is now bound, and if he breaks himself loose again, he is more tightly held than he was before.
Samson never means to tell the truth here. So was the lie the failure? One writer puts it earlier — in the fact that he is playing along at all:
There was no excuse for Samson in yielding himself to the flattery of Delilah. But she had caught him in her trap, or he would have drawn back in horror from her request. "The secret of God, the possession of His confidence, is the highest of all privileges. To betray it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position in which His grace has placed us: it is to lose it." Samson did not want to reveal it. He could not give up his pleasures, so he used one excuse after another to keep it. His fatal mistake was that he played with the temptress instead of resisting her. The result was that he was hunted out again and again from his refuge of lies, until at last the way into his strong fortress was found.
One writer applies that loss to the reader:
If the soul's separation from the spirit of the world breaks down, the secret is given up. You have handed your secret to the enemy. And just as surely, you have lost your strength; you have lost all spiritual power.
Samson breaks the new ropes too. One writer asks what that escape really proved:
Three bindings had not been able to quench the power of the Spirit: the seven green cords that had never been dried, the new ropes that had never been used, and the seven locks of his head woven with the loom. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. But when his secret was made known, the mark of his dependence removed, the bond of communion between his soul and God broken, what was left for him? All his strength had vanished. Despite his moral bondage, God had delivered him in the past. Those deliverances only deceived him and lulled him into a false sense of safety. Three times he had got himself free at the critical moment. Why not a fourth?
Samson says he would be weak, like any other man. He lies about the method, not about the principle. The strength was never his own. But why should it hang on uncut hair?
There was one separated to God, set apart for the LORD. He was therefore placed under a defined obedience: his hair was not to be cut. While he kept the command, his strength was with him. There might have seemed little connection between long or uncut hair and all-conquering strength. But God was in it. A God we obey and honour is a God of strength to us. It was God's strength, given to a man who clearly recognised Him. It was a gift, and keeping it hung on obedience — on staying true to the vow of separation to God that he had taken.
Here is a man going back to a snare he has already escaped. The escape should have taught him. Instead it dulled him:
Has God ever used your conscience to deliver you from a snare, and yet you have gone back to that same snare? Then I know your conscience is less sensitive than it was before, just as Samson's was.
- Gift — Samson's strength was God's, given to a man set apart to Him, and held on the condition of obedience to the vow.
- Game — He never means to betray that secret. His fatal mistake is playing with the temptress instead of resisting her.
- Grip — Every fresh answer adds another cord. He breaks the new ropes, and is held tighter than before.
- Grace misread — Three escapes were God still sustaining an unfaithful servant. Samson read them as safety: three times free, why not a fourth?
- Grief — A conscience that has escaped a snare and walks back into it comes back less sensitive than it went.
And Delilah took new ropes, and bound him with them, and said to him, The Philistines are upon thee, Samson! Now there were liers in wait abiding in the chamber. And he broke them from off his arms like a thread.
Samson has already broken one set of bindings, and instead of walking away he stays and plays the game again. Delilah asks again, he gives another false answer, and men wait in hiding for the ropes to hold — yet he snaps the new ropes like thread.
Samson's answer reaches back to a past victory, when ropes had already failed to hold him.
Have you boasted of some past victory in such a way that it has become the beginning of a fresh snare? Samson here is thinking of his past victory over the Philistines, how he snapped the cords... And so he did — he broke the cords, but, dear friends, he had a fresh cord around his soul. It was simply boasting about a past victory in front of someone who had no business knowing anything about it. And he had no business being with her at all. He did not tell her the truth. He did not give her the real secret of his strength. But he tampered with her, and in a little while she knows more.
The ropes fail. One writer counts three such escapes, then asks what was left once Samson told the secret.
Three things could not quench the power of the Spirit. They were the seven fresh bowstrings that had never been dried, the new ropes that had never been used, and the seven locks of his head woven into the web. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. But then he told the secret. That removed the mark of his dependence. It broke the bond of communion between his soul and God. What was left for him? All his strength had vanished.
Breaking free looks like success. One writer reads the second escape as God's mercy reaching for Samson, and as a step further down.
The next time he gets a little stronger. Let them bind me with ropes. He is getting stronger, and, if he only knew it, he is simply adding another cord to the ones he is to be bound with. He has gone further down the road. I think we see God's mercy laying His hand on him, to bring him back and restore him. Yet he refuses to listen to that mercy... Here he tampers a second time, after his conscience has been awakened — and above all, awakened a second time by the mercy of God. He still goes on with the thing. That shows the man to be in greater danger than ever before.
Another writer traces the same downward steps, and what they do to a man's eyes.
He takes one step after another, drawing nearer and nearer to the cliff. At last he throws himself over it recklessly. Each step taken makes the next easier. Each step seals his eyes further. Then, when his ruin is complete, he is unaware of it until the consequences catch up with him.
Twice now men have waited in hiding at Delilah's call. Anyone could read that. Samson does not.
Delilah sells herself to the Philistine lords to trap the champion of Israel, who is now led astray by his lusts. Otherwise the repeated efforts to seize him would have opened his eyes to her trickery and their murderous hatred... Such is the blinding power of sin; for was he ignorant of her vileness, or of his own danger?
No binding works, because his strength was never in his arms. It hung on one thing, and that is what Delilah is hunting.
Here was a man separated to God, set apart for the Lord. That placed him under defined obedience: his hair was not to be cut. While he kept the command, his strength was with him. There might have seemed little connection between uncut hair and all-conquering strength. But God was in it, and a God who is obeyed and honoured is a God of strength to us. It was God's strength, given to a man who recognised Him so clearly. Keeping that gift hung on obedience — on staying true to the vow of separation he had taken.
Ridout turns the scene into a rule that reaches well past Samson.
Any playing with what is not of God, which is no help to my communion with Him, will in the end bring shipwreck and ruin. So will any trifling with it. So will any linking of the things of God with the things of the world — just as Samson found.
- Secret. Samson's strength rested on obedience to his vow of separation to God. That is the secret Delilah is after.
- Trifling. He answers with a lie drawn from an old victory. He keeps the real secret back, but he stays where he should not be.
- Rescue. The ropes snap, but that is God still sustaining an unfaithful servant, not approval of the game.
- Warning. Each escape is mercy knocking. Refused, it becomes another cord. Every step down makes the next one easier.
- Blindness. Two ambushes should have opened his eyes. Sin sealed them instead, and ruin came before he knew it.
And Delilah said to Samson, Hitherto thou hast mocked me and told me lies. Tell me with what thou mightest be bound. And he said to her, If thou shouldest weave the seven locks of my head with the web.
Samson has already put Delilah off twice with a lie about cords and ropes. This third reply is different: for the first time he names his hair.
Then comes his third answer to her. He is still trifling with her, but the moth is drawing ever closer to the candle, and now he touches what is the secret of his strength. He says, if you weave the seven locks of my head with the web. He is speaking about his hair; he is not going to tell her that if they shave off that hair, or anything of that kind. But the hair was the source of his strength. Now you can see how close he had come to giving away the secret of it… He is telling her falsely, but he is talking about the very thing.
The hair itself was not the power. It was the sign of a vow: Samson was a Nazarite, a man consecrated to God, and uncut hair was the mark of it.
Samson's great strength lay in his seven locks. They were the symbol of his unbroken vow — of his consecration to God… While Samson's seven locks stayed uncut, no enemy could gain any advantage over him. The Spirit remained in power with him, so long as he kept the secret of his communion with God. But alas, alas, how difficult for a Nazarite to retain his locks in the lap of Delilah!
Even a false answer about the locks was a step too far. Ridout puts it in everyday terms:
It is as if a man were talking to the world about his faith. He may not quite give away the secret itself. He may not be fully joined to the world, but he is talking about the one thing that separates him from the world. What right had Samson to talk to a Philistine about his Nazarite vow? None at all.
Another writer states the principle behind that:
To hold a secret and keep it proves close friendship. But the secret of God — having His confidence — is the highest of all privileges. To betray it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position in which His grace has placed us; it is to lose it. What have the enemies of God to do with the secret of God? That is how Samson gave himself up to his enemies.
Samson broke free from the loom just as he had broken the cords. The rescues were real, and they were God's — but they became the very thing that made him careless.
Three attempts had failed to quench the power of the Spirit: the seven green cords that were never dried, the new ropes that were never used, and the seven locks of his head woven with the web. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant… Despite his moral bondage, his past experience of God's deliverances only deceived him. It lulled him into a sense of security. Three times he had freed himself at a critical moment. Why not a fourth?
Verse 13 is not the end of the story. What begins as playing with the truth ends with handing it over.
So he takes the last step. She will have it all out of him. You may be sure of this. Anyone who plays with evil, anyone who tampers with it, will go all the way with it, unless God in His mercy steps in. That is what poor Samson did here.
The Nazarite vow covered three things — no wine, no contact with death, and uncut hair. Samson mentions only the last.
Is it not significant that he does not speak of his abstinence from wine, or separation from death? His past life would show that he had not been careful about those parts of his Nazarite separation. The long hair suggested conscious weakness, a spirit of dependence on God. Is it not possible for these to remain after a man has lost the holy separation of heart?
- The secret — Samson's strength lay in a vow, not in muscle. The seven locks were the symbol of his consecration. While they stayed uncut, no enemy could touch him.
- The slippage — Two lies were about ropes. This one names his hair. He is still lying, yet he is now discussing the very thing that separates him from his enemies.
- The sin — Handing God's secret to a stranger is not a small slip. It despises the place grace gave you, and it loses it.
- The sparing — He broke the loom just as he broke the cords, because God kept sustaining an unfaithful servant. But past rescues became a pillow. He assumed there would always be a fourth.
- The surrender — Whoever plays with evil goes the whole distance unless God intervenes. You can keep the outward sign of dependence long after the heart's separation is gone.
And she fastened it with the pin, and said to him, The Philistines are upon thee, Samson! And he awoke out of his sleep, and tore out the pin of the beam, and the web.
Delilah has demanded Samson's secret twice, and twice he has lied. His third answer comes far closer to the truth, and he still gets away — which is the very thing that deceives him.
The first two replies were about cords and ropes — things outside himself. This one is about his hair, and one commentator marks the shift.
He is still playing games with her, but the moth is drawing ever closer to the candle. Now he touches the secret of his strength. He is speaking about his hair... But the hair was the source of his strength, and now you can see how near he had drawn to disclosing the secret of it. He is talking about his own spiritual strength, and he is telling her, as it were, how that strength can be taken from him. He is telling her falsely, but he is talking about the very thing. It is as though a man were talking to the world about his faith. He may not fully belong to the world. But he is talking about the one thing that separates him from it. What right had Samson to talk to a Philistine about his Nazirite vow? None at all. It reminds us of Eve talking with the serpent.
A lie that circles the truth is still a conversation about the truth.
A Nazirite was a man set apart to God by a vow: uncut hair, no wine. Of all the parts of that vow, hair is the one Samson reaches for.
Is it not significant that he does not speak of his abstinence from wine, or separation from death? His past life suggests that he had not been careful about those parts of his Nazirite separation. The long hair spoke of conscious weakness and a spirit of dependence on God. Is it not possible for these to remain after the holy separation of heart has been lost?
The outward sign can outlive the inward reality. Another writer draws out what that sign meant to the onlookers:
His strength stayed a mystery to his enemies. They saw what it could do, but only as it struck them. That made them all the more eager to tear the secret out of him. They wanted to know what weapons would work against this servant of the LORD. His long hair, a look no one else had, was also a public declaration of separation to God. But if he had not given his secret away, the world would never have guessed the truth. What pictured dependence and self-forgetfulness was, for the Nazirite, the source of his strength.
Samson held on to his secret, but he held it with excuses instead of walking away.
"The secret of God, the possession of His confidence, is the highest of all privileges. To betray it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position His grace has placed us in. It is to lose it." Samson was not willing to reveal it. Unable to give up his pleasures, he used one excuse after another to keep it. His fatal mistake was to play with the temptress instead of resisting her. So they hunted him out of one refuge of lies after another, until at last they found the way into his stronghold.
Verse 14 is one of those refuges of lies.
The loom gives way, the pin comes out, and nothing appears to have changed. That appearance is the trap.
Three times the power of the Spirit held. Seven fresh bowstrings that had never been dried, new ropes that had never been used, the seven locks of his head woven with the web — none of these could quench it. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. God had delivered him before, even while he was in moral bondage. Those past rescues only deceived him and lulled him into feeling safe. Three times he had got himself out at a critical moment. Why not a fourth?
Surviving a sin is not the same as being clear of it.
Verse 14 is not a stopping place; it is the step before the last step.
So he takes the last step. She will have it all out of him. You may be sure that anyone who plays with evil, who tampers with it, will go the whole length of it, just as poor Samson did here, unless God in His mercy steps in. Yes, he says, take my hair. That is the point. He has come to the end, and if my hair goes, if my Nazirite separation is lost, I shall be as weak as any other man.
And the loom is worked while he sleeps — a detail one writer turns into a general warning:
The saint's sleeping time is Satan's tempting time. Every fly dares to creep on a sleeping lion. Even the weakest temptation is strong enough to overthrow a Christian who is napping in false security. Samson asleep, and Delilah cut his locks.
- Nearer. Each answer brings Samson closer to the real secret. The third names his hair — the one thing that separates him from the world.
- Sign. The long hair stood for dependence on God and self-forgetfulness. That is why the world could never guess it was his source of strength.
- Secret. Holding God's confidence is the highest privilege; handing it to a stranger is to despise it, and to lose it.
- Sleep. Delilah weaves while Samson sleeps. Even the weakest temptation can overthrow a believer who naps in false security.
- Snare. Three escapes did not teach him; they lulled him. One lie after another is hunted out, until at last his enemies find the way in.
Then she said to him, How canst thou say, I love thee, when thy heart is not with me? these three times hast thou mocked me, and hast not told me in what is thy great strength.
Delilah has already tried three times to bind Samson, and each time he has escaped. Now she changes tactics. Instead of asking for his secret, she attacks his love for her. She uses the word "love" to pry at the one thing he has never given away.
Her complaint is that his love cannot be real while he keeps something back. One writer weighs that complaint against her own record, and adds a warning for anyone who stays in such a tie.
She kept pressing him daily, asking him how he could say he loved her when he withheld this information from her (v. 15). Of course this was hypocrisy, for she had proved she had no love for him. But if we stay in evil relationships we will soon give in to evil.
Delilah says his heart is not with her. A writer finds a deeper division behind that, and explains why it could not last.
Samson loved Delilah. His heart was divided, and God could not go on with this. It is impossible for our affections to go out to the world and likewise to God. "No servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other" (Luke 16:13). In loving Delilah, Samson as much as said that he hated and despised God; when, in actual fact, he belonged to Him. This woman's influence over him increased more and more. From then on his heart was taken captive, and before long he gave up his whole secret.
The Philistines had felt Samson's strength but could not explain it. A writer shows why that unsolved puzzle made them press so hard for the secret.
Up to now Samson had guarded his close and secret relationship with God, despite everything. He had something the world could not understand, and it could not reach the source of it. His strength stayed a puzzle to his enemies. No doubt they saw its effect, but they saw it aimed at themselves. That made them all the more eager to force the secret out of him, so they could learn what weapons to use against this servant of the Lord.
By his third answer Samson was talking about his hair. The detail he gave was false, but the subject was the real one. A writer shows what that kind of talk amounts to.
He is talking about his own spiritual strength. In effect, he is telling her how that strength can be taken from him. He is telling her falsely, but he is talking about the very thing. It is as though a man were talking to the world about his faith. He may not quite give out the secret itself. He may not be fully joined to the world, but he is talking about the one thing that keeps him apart from it. What right had Samson to talk to a Philistine about his Nazirite separation? None at all.
Verse 15 is not an argument. It is pressure applied until resistance breaks. A writer sets Samson beside Nehemiah, who met the same tactic and escaped it.
Delilah "pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him, so that his soul was vexed to death." Finally Samson gives way under the persistence of his treacherous wife and "told her all his heart." As a result he was robbed of his strength, the Lord left him, and he fell prey to his enemies (Judges 16:15-21). The devil knows how weak human nature is. Under constant pressure it will often betray the believer into giving way from sheer weariness. Nehemiah escapes this trick by simply repeating his former answer: "I answered them in the same manner."
Samson's uncut hair marked him as a Nazirite — a man set apart to God. One writer names the one thing that sign was really testing.
By God's will, his unbeatable strength hung on his uncut hair. There was only one thing really involved — obedience... Do we know what obedience is in God's eyes, even when it may be shown in the simplest way? It is the perfection of the creature, giving God His place, and man his own.
- Heart given. Samson's love went to a Philistine woman. A heart cannot be given to the world and to God at once.
- Heart accused. Her question is hypocrisy from a woman who had proved she had no love for him. Stay in an evil tie, and you will give in to it.
- Heart hunted. His enemies could not explain his strength, so they worked to drag its secret out of him.
- Heart worn down. Daily pressure, not argument, broke him. Nehemiah escaped by repeating the answer he had already given.
- Heart surrendered. It all came down to obedience — dependence on God shown by one simple mark, and gone the moment he gave it up.
And it came to pass when she pressed him daily with her words and urged him, that his soul was vexed unto death;
Delilah has already asked Samson three times where his strength lies, and three times he has lied to her. Now she changes weapons: no force and no cleverness, just daily pressure, until he is worn out and sick of living.
Delilah does not defeat Samson by argument. She refuses to stop asking. One writer sets this beside Nehemiah, who met the same tactic from his enemies and survived it:
Nehemiah gave a firm answer, but the enemy would not be put off. He repeats the same demand "four times." Satan used this trick to bring about Samson's fall in an earlier day. Delilah "pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him," until "his soul was vexed to death." Finally Samson gives way to the persistence of his treacherous wife and "told her all his heart." This robbed him of his strength. The Lord departed from him, and he fell as prey to his enemies (Judges 16:15-21). The devil knows how weak human nature is. Under constant pressure it will often betray the believer into giving way out of sheer weariness. Nehemiah escapes this trick by repeating his former answer, as he says, "I answered them after the same manner."
A dull defence, but it holds. What was true the first time is still true the fourth.
The pressure worked because of where Samson was standing. Both the valley and the woman carry names, and one writer reads them:
Grace resisted hardens the heart. Samson has still not learned his lesson, and we find him now in the vale of Sorek — "entanglement." No strong city holds him here. There is nothing but a weak woman's arms, and they are stronger than the gates of Gaza. Delilah means "exhausted, weak." We are often overcome by what looks weak to us, for here at least we credit ourselves with a strength we do not have… He takes one step after another, drawing nearer and nearer to the cliff he plunges over at last. Each step taken makes the next one easier. With each one his eyes are more completely sealed.
His three false answers were not innocent games. By the third he was circling the truth, talking about his hair with the woman who had trapped him:
He is still playing with her, but the moth is drawing ever closer to the candle. Now he touches the real secret of his strength… But the hair was the source of his strength. You can see how near he had come to giving that secret away. He is talking about his own spiritual strength. In effect, he is telling her how to take that strength from him. He is telling her falsely, but he is talking about the very thing. It is as though a man were talking to the world about his faith. He may not quite give out the secret itself. He has not fully joined the world, but he is talking about the one thing that separates him from it.
Samson got what he wanted, and it is killing him:
Samson was not very happy under Delilah's yoke. "When she pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him, his soul was vexed to death" (v. 16). That was all he got from what had attracted him most! He would gladly have refused, but he was no longer able to. A man of the world may find his joy in the world; a believer, never. Deep down, Samson's heart was in some measure with God and with the Israel of God. From that fact came all this conflict, struggle, vexation and misery. Our conscience speaks and we have no real rest; our joy is spoiled.
The next verse says he "told her all his heart." One writer weighs what that betrayal really cost:
The secret of God, the possession of His confidence, is the highest of all privileges. To betray it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position His grace has placed us in: it is to lose it.
Samson's strength came from his Nazarite separation — a life set apart to God. Here is what he lost with it:
As long as he kept his Nazarite separation he was unbeatable, for the power of God worked with great force through His servant. But once he lost this, he was weak, like any other man. And not only that — "he did not know that the LORD had left him." The surest sign of backsliding is not knowing your own condition. The backslider slowly gets used to losing the enjoyment of the Lord's presence.
- Pressure. Satan's weapon here is not argument but repetition. Constant pressure makes people give way out of sheer weariness.
- Position. It worked because Samson was already in "entanglement," the valley where each step made the next one easier.
- Proximity. He kept talking about the one thing that marked him off from the world, and the moth drew closer to the candle.
- Pain. The thing he wanted most left his soul vexed to death, because a believer can never find real joy in the world.
- Poverty. Telling the secret cost him the place grace had given him. The worst sign of the loss: he did not know it had happened.
and he told her all his heart, and said to her, There has not come a razor upon my head; for I am a Nazarite of God from my mother's womb; if I should be shaven, then my strength would go from me, and I should be weak, and be like all mankind.
Samson's last defence falls here. Worn down by Delilah, he hands over the secret that had kept him unbeatable: his hair had never been cut. So where did his strength come from, and why did telling it end it?
Delilah did not overpower Samson. She wore him down by asking day after day.
Satan used this same trick — asking again and again — to bring about Samson's fall long ago. Delilah "pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him," until "his soul was vexed to death." In the end Samson gave way to the persistence of his treacherous wife and "told her all his heart." He lost his strength, the Lord left him, and he fell prey to his enemies. The devil knows how weak human nature is. Under constant pressure it will often betray the believer into giving way from sheer weariness.
He had wanted to refuse and could not. And what the telling cost him went far beyond his hair.
But when he gave away his secret, the mark of his dependence went with it, and the bond between his soul and God ended. What was left for him? All his strength had vanished... He would gladly have refused, but he was no longer able to. A man of the world may find his joy in the world; a believer, never.
a Nazirite — someone set apart to God by vow — Samson wore in public a sign that would have looked like humiliation to anyone else.
Man is selfish by nature, and nothing matters more to him than himself and his own dignity. Long hair separated the Nazirite, as a picture, from all that. It was at the same time the sign of dependence and of dishonour. The long hair declared openly that he had given up his dignity and personal rights as a man, to devote himself to the service of God... Without this dependence there can be neither service for God nor power for it. What was a sign of weakness for the Nazirite became the source of his strength.
Paul learned the same lesson.
The Apostle Paul was a true Nazirite when he wrote: "I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me... For when I am weak, then I am strong." He had learned that complete dependence meant true power. The Lord had said to him: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
Samson never meant to tell her. He played with the danger instead of ending it.
"The secret of God, the possession of His confidence, is the highest of all privileges. To betray it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position His grace has given us. It is to lose it." Samson indeed was not willing to reveal it... His fatal mistake was that he toyed with the temptress instead of resisting her.
The strength was never magic in the hair. It hung on one thing, and God stayed true to it.
His unbeatable strength hung on his uncut hair, because God had willed it so. Only one thing was really involved — obedience... Whatever his low state through unchecked appetites, whatever his failures before, God's strength never failed him while he kept the secret with God. The strain made no difference. The Lord at least stayed true to the secret; He could not do otherwise.
His own words name what he lost.
Up to this point his path had been one of strength and victory. That was because it had been a path of holy Nazirite separation. But Delilah's lap proved too much for Samson's heart. One woman's trap did what a thousand Philistines could not do. Samson fell from the high position of the Nazirite down to the level of an ordinary man.
He mentions the razor only. The rest of his vow goes unmentioned.
Is it not significant that he does not speak of his abstinence from wine, or separation from death? His past life shows that he had not been careful about those parts of his Nazirite separation. The long hair suggested conscious weakness and a spirit of dependence on God. Is it not possible for these to remain after the heart has lost its holy separation?
- Dependence — the uncut hair was a public sign that Samson had given up his own rights to belong to God. The mark of weakness was the source of his strength.
- Pressure — no enemy overpowered him. Delilah's daily asking wore him down until he gave way from sheer weariness.
- Betrayal — sharing God's secret with a stranger is despising the place grace gave you, and losing it.
- Faithfulness — his failures never stopped the strength. It went only when he gave the secret away, for God stayed true to it longer than Samson did.
- Descent — set apart from birth, he ends the verse calling himself ordinary. That is what he became.
And Delilah saw that he had told her all his heart, and she sent and called for the lords of the Philistines, saying, Come up this time, for he has told me all his heart. And the lords of the Philistines came up to her, and brought the money in their hand.
Samson had lied to Delilah again and again about the source of his strength. This time she knows the lying has stopped, and the Philistine rulers arrive with the payment already counted out.
Twice over, the verse says Samson told her all his heart. A shared secret is the proof of a close friendship, and the highest secret of all belongs to God.
To hold a secret and keep it proves you are close to a friend. But the secret of God — having His confidence — is the highest privilege of all. To hand it to a stranger, whoever he may be, is to despise the precious position His grace has given us. It is to lose that position. What have the enemies of God to do with the secret of God? It was in this way that Samson gave himself up to his enemies. Nothing they tried could touch him as long as he kept his Nazarite separation.
A Nazarite was someone set apart to God, marked out by uncut hair.
Delilah's earlier attempts had all failed on Samson's lies. This time she sends for the rulers without testing him first. She could tell the difference.
He had told her so many lies that the Philistines did not believe him any more; but, dear friends, she believed him. This wretched prostitute of a world knows when you have told your secret. It knows well when the Christian has given up separation from it. It knows when everything has broken down.
The rulers bring silver with them, and the size of the payment says something about the woman who took it.
A Philistine prostitute from the valley of Sorek, loved by Samson. The Philistines bribed her, and she teased Samson until he told her where his great strength lay (Judges 16:4-18). The size of the reward offered her — 5,500 shekels — makes it likely that she was a political courtesan. We wonder at Samson's folly. He had plenty of proof of what she was planning. But he was far from God, so his light had become darkness — and how great that darkness was! The "lap of Delilah" should be a clear warning to everyone.
Samson was not overpowered. He was worn down.
Satan used the trick of constant asking to bring about the fall of Samson in an earlier day. Delilah pressed him with her words day after day until he was sick to death of it. In the end Samson gave way to his treacherous wife's endless pressing and told her all his heart. The result was that he lost his strength. The Lord left him, and he fell prey to his enemies (Judges 16:15-21). The devil knows how weak human nature is. Under constant pressure it will often betray the believer into giving way out of sheer weariness.
One loss opened the door to the next.
The Philistines sent Delilah money, and what was the next thing? Off came Samson's hair. The first thing he lost was his separation. The next thing he lost was his strength. Then he lost his liberty. This time they truly captured him. Had they not bound him before? Yes, with new ropes, but the ropes were like cobwebs to him. Next he lost his eyes, and last of all he lost his life. Lose your separation, and your strength, your liberty, your eyesight and your life all follow.
Samson's fall did not stay private. It became a public argument about whose God was stronger.
Let us not be mistaken about this. The enemy was more hostile to God than to Samson. The defeated Nazarite now looked like proof that the false god Dagon had beaten the true God. The lack of reality in Christians is the world's most powerful weapon against Christ. When the world despises the unfaithful believer, it is really Him that it gets the chance to despise.
- Told — Samson gave away the secret of God. To hand that to a stranger is to despise the place grace has put you in, and to lose it.
- Sold — the rulers come with the money ready. The world pays only when it is sure the secret is out, and Delilah's fee was large enough to mark her as no ordinary hire.
- Worn down — force never broke Samson. Daily pressure did, and the enemy still counts on weariness rather than strength.
- Shorn — the losses came in order. First his separation, then his strength, then his liberty, then his eyes, then his life.
- Scorned — the target behind Samson was God Himself. An unfaithful believer becomes the world's best weapon against Christ.
And she made him sleep upon her knees, and called a man, and she caused him to shave off the seven locks of his head; and she began to overpower him, and his strength went from him.
Judges 16:19 is the turning point of Samson's life. He falls asleep on Delilah's lap, his seven locks are cut, and his strength drains away. The verse raises the question the whole story has been circling: where did that strength come from, and what did hair have to do with it?
The shaving does not happen to a man on guard. It happens to a man who has stopped being awake. One writer links telling the secret with falling asleep.
At last he took the final step, and "told her all his heart" (v. 17). Then came sleep: "She made him sleep on her knees" (v. 19). The soul loses all sense of its relationship with God, and falls into a heavy sleep in the polluted air of corruption. Then the enemy, waiting in ambush for this moment, moved in. They bound the strong man, put out his eyes, and treated him as one of their most miserable slaves.
Samson had lied to Delilah again and again, and the Philistines had stopped believing him. This time she was certain, and she acted while he slept.
He had told her so many lies that the Philistines did not believe him any more, but, dear friends, she believed him. This world is a wretched prostitute, and it knows when you have told your secret. This wretched world knows well when the Christian has given up separation from it, and when everything has broken down. After that it is a little more sleeping, a little more of the laziness he had long since fallen into. He puts his head on this poor wretched world's lap, and then all is gone. He wakes only to find his strength gone forever. Gone, not to be restored in any true sense. His strength is gone, and gone by his own fault.
Uncut hair was the visible mark of Samson's vow as a Nazirite — a man set apart for God. One writer reads that hair against 1 Corinthians 11, where long hair is a woman's glory and a man's shame.
Long hair separated the Nazirite, as a picture, from self and personal dignity. At the same time it was the mark of dependence and of dishonour (1 Cor. 11). The long hair of the Nazirite announced that he had given up his dignity and his personal rights as a man. He did this to devote himself to the service of God. What was glory for the woman was shame for him... Without this dependence there can be neither service for God nor power for it. What was a sign of weakness for the Nazirite became the source of his strength.
Paintings give Samson a bodybuilder's frame. The verse itself argues against that reading, since a haircut is what undoes him.
In pictures Samson is always shown as a man of huge build, but that isn't the idea at all. The Philistines said to Delilah, "Entice him, and see where his great strength lies." They couldn't understand where Samson's strength came from. It didn't come from his body. It lay in his separation to God, so that "the Spirit of the LORD rushed upon him." Once Delilah had his hair shaved off, he was as weak as a child. Even Delilah "began to overpower him."
That last phrase follows an older translation. The ESV reads that she "began to torment him."
If the long hair stands for a dependent spirit, what does losing it look like now? One writer points to a habit we drop quietly.
Dependence finds its natural and normal expression in prayer... Let us be sure of this: there is no greater danger than losing a sense of the need of prayer. Neglected private prayer means the loss of the dependent spirit — the long hair... The enemy can even use our knowledge of grace to weaken our sense of dependence, and so make prayer less constant.
The losses do not stop with the hair and the strength.
He had lost his separation, and now that his strength was gone he lost his liberty. Next he lost his eyes, and last of all he lost his life. Lose your separation, and your strength, your liberty, your eyesight and your life all follow. Samson is the awful picture of a man who went right down from the top to the bottom.
- Secret. Samson's fall began when he told the secret. The world can tell when a believer has handed it over, and it acts at once.
- Sleep. The head laid on the enemy's lap comes before the razor. The soul loses its sense of nearness to God and slips into heavy sleep.
- Shearing. The uncut hair was the badge of dependence and of accepted shame. What looked like weakness was the source of his strength.
- Strength. It never lay in his muscles but in his separation to God, so the moment the sign went, he was as weak as a child.
- Slide. Separation goes first, then strength, then liberty, then his eyes, then his life. The guard against that slide is dependence kept alive in prayer.
And she said, The Philistines are upon thee, Samson! And he awoke out of his sleep, and thought, I will go out as at other times before, and disengage myself. And he knew not that Jehovah had departed from him.
Samson wakes from Delilah's lap and expects his old power to work as usual. It is gone. The saddest line in the story is that he did not know it had gone. So where did his strength come from? And how can a man lose God's presence without noticing?
Samson's power was never in his body. Commentators tie it to what his uncut hair stood for.
Pictures always show Samson as a man of huge build, but that isn't the idea at all. The Philistines said to Delilah, "Entice him, and see where his great strength lies." They couldn't understand where Samson's strength came from. It didn't come from his body. It lay in his separation to God, so that "the Spirit of the LORD came mightily upon him." Once they had shaved his hair off, he was as weak as a child.
The link between hair and might looks arbitrary until you see what held it together.
Samson was separated to God, set apart for the LORD, and his hair was not to be cut. While he kept that command, his strength was with him. There might have seemed little connection between long or uncut hair and all-overcoming strength; but God was in it: and an obeyed, honoured God, is a God of strength to us.
Nothing here happened in one night. One writer sets out the fall as a staircase:
Here are the downward steps: — He loved a woman in the valley of Sorek. Verse 4. He told her all his heart. Verse 7. She made him sleep upon her knees. Verse 19. They cut off the seven locks of his hair. Verse 19. The Lord departed from him. Verse 20. The Philistines took him. Verse 21. They put out his eyes, bound him with bronze chains, and he ground grain in the prison. Verse 21.
Three earlier escapes had taught Samson the wrong lesson.
Three things had not been able to quench the power of the Spirit: the seven green branches that had never dried, the new ropes that had never been used, and the seven locks of his hair woven into the web. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. But then he gave his secret away. The mark of his dependence was gone. The bond of communion between his soul and God was broken. What was left for him? All his strength had vanished. God had rescued him in the past, despite his moral bondage, and those past rescues only deceived him and lulled him into feeling safe. Three times he had got himself out at a critical moment. Why not a fourth?
Turpin marks the exact turning point. God helped Samson through every earlier crisis, "but the moment he gave away the secret, God helps him no more" (W. T. Turpin).
One small word in his boast had quietly stopped being true.
What a sad sight Samson was, going out to shake himself, "as at other times"! Sadly, the "as" was out of place. He might shake himself, but it was no longer "as at other times." The power was gone. The Lord had left him. The once powerful Nazarite became a blind prisoner. Instead of triumphing over the Philistines, he had to grind grain in their prison. Samson never regained his freedom. Through God's mercy he was allowed one more victory over his enemies, but that victory cost him his life. God's Nazarites must keep themselves pure or lose their power. For them, power and purity cannot be separated.
The danger belongs to those with a long record of success. The beginner knows he must lean on God. The veteran "is in danger of saying with Samson, 'I will go out as at other times and shake myself'" (H. Forbes Witherby).
Samson's shame was not his alone.
Do not mistake this. The enemy was more hostile to God than to Samson. The beaten Nazarite now seemed to be a witness that the false god Dagon had defeated the true God. The lack of reality in Christians is the world's most powerful weapon against Christ.
The point is not to study Samson but to check ourselves.
He did not even know that his power had gone. How many a soul has tampered with the world, and gone on tampering with it! He does not know that his spiritual strength is gone. He did not know that the Lord was not with him, and he goes out. He may shake himself, but if he has lost the secret of his strength, his dependence on God, he is as weak as the weakest.
- Source. Samson's strength was never physical. It lay in his separation to God — and a God obeyed and honoured is a God of strength to us.
- Slide. The fall came by steps — a love, a secret told, a sleep, a shearing — not by one sudden shock.
- Sleep. Earlier rescues came in mercy while he was already compromised. They only lulled him into feeling safe.
- Self-confidence. "As at other times" was his ruin: he trusted a past pattern instead of a present God.
- Sight. He lost his power without knowing it. The surest sign of decline is not feeling it — and the world sees the emptiness before we do.