Then the lords of the Philistines gathered together to sacrifice a great sacrifice to Dagon their god, and to rejoice; for they said, Our god has given Samson our enemy into our hands.
The Philistine lords throw a victory party, and they hand Dagon the credit for capturing Samson. That one boast turns a local defeat into a public claim about which god rules. It forces an answer the Philistines never expected.
Dagon had temples in the main Philistine cities. He turns up more than once in Israel's history.
The national god of the Philistines, whose main temples were at Gaza and Ashdod. Some trace the name to dag, "fish"; others trace it to dagan, "corn," making him a god of farming. This was the idol that fell to pieces before the ark of Israel. Later the Philistines hung the head of Saul in its temple.
Samson had failed, and his enemies had reason to celebrate. But they did not stop at Samson. They named their god as the one who handed him over.
But as for Samson, his dependence grows. He gets his weakness, and so he gets his strength. Then as to God's side of it. Ah, the Philistines always make mistakes. Satan always overreaches himself. The Philistines are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give it to Dagon their god. So now it is not a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
Israel had seen this pattern before, when the Philistines captured the ark of God.
The Philistines took God's ark from Israel. So long as it was a question between Israel and the Philistines, God lets His ark go. Israel had turned away from Him and were a sinful people; they had no right to the ark. But they carry the ark into the house of Dagon and set it before Dagon, as if admitting that Dagon rules. Then God must speak for Himself, as He always will, and Dagon falls. So when they hold a great celebration for Dagon and give him the credit for the victory over Samson, they are defying God. They are throwing in His face what they had done. Therefore God must speak. He does speak — and to great effect.
Samson is the one in chains, blinded and mocked. Yet the insult reaches past him.
Samson is now only a poor blind slave, the sport of the enemies of Jehovah. Let us not be mistaken about this. The enemy was more hostile to God than to Samson. To all appearance, the defeated Nazirite now stood as 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. In despising the unfaithful believer, the world is really seizing its chance to despise Him.
(A Nazirite was someone set apart to God by a special vow.)
The boast forces God to answer. That answer comes through the very man they are laughing at. His losses turn out to be gains.
The Philistines call it the triumph of their god that Samson has fallen into their hands. So Jehovah must show Himself. Samson too, though blinded, begins to see more clearly than when the lust of his eyes held him captive. His chains set him free; his darkness gives him light. It is the goodness of God that leaves His people to the consequences of their sins. He does it so that the bitter fruit may condemn the tree, and so that they may find fellowship with Him by experience, however painfully. How much better to learn by His word through faith!
God defends His name, and He does not abandon the man who has ruined himself. Still, Samson does not escape untouched.
God remembers His own glory, and His poor servant humbled under the chastening of his sin. The Philistines gather to enjoy their victory and glorify their false gods. But Jehovah had His eye on all this. In his humiliation, the thought of the Lord had more power over Samson's heart; his Nazirite separation was regaining strength. … A slave and blind for life, his condition gives him an opportunity that his strength had never won for him. But he is blind and enslaved, and he must himself perish in the judgment he brings on the wickedness of his enemies. He had identified himself with the world by listening to it, and he must share the judgment that falls on the world.
- Credit misplaced. The Philistines hand Dagon the credit for a victory their idol never won. That boast, not Samson's failure, is what provokes God.
- Contest transferred. Once the credit goes to Dagon, the fight is no longer Samson against the Philistines. It is Dagon against God.
- God speaks. God lets His own people suffer for their sin. But He will not leave His name in an idol's temple — the ark had already proved that.
- The real target. An unfaithful believer becomes the world's weapon against Christ. The mockery aimed at Samson lands on God.
- Strength returned. Blinded, Samson sees. Chained, he is free. But he had tied himself to the world, so he goes down under the judgment that falls on it.
And when the people saw him, they praised their god; for they said, Our god has given into our hands our enemy, and the destroyer of our country, even him who multiplied our slain.
In Dagon's temple the crowd is not just mocking a prisoner — they are worshipping. Their song gives their idol the credit for beating the man who wrecked their country, and that raises the real question: whose name gets the credit?
The moment the Philistines put their god's name on this victory, the dispute stopped being a local one. Commentators note that in doing so the enemy overplays his hand.
The Philistines always make mistakes. Satan always overreaches himself. They are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give it to Dagon, their god. So now it is not a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
The same pattern shows up with the ark of the covenant, the chest that stood for God's presence with Israel. The Philistines captured it and set it in front of Dagon.
While it was only a question between Israel and the Philistines, God let His ark go. Israel had turned away from Him and sinned, and they had no right to the ark. But the ark is carried into the house of Dagon and set before Dagon, as if Dagon were supreme. Then God must speak for Himself, as He always will, and Dagon falls. So when the Philistines hold a great feast for Dagon and give him the credit for the victory over Samson, they are defying God, pure and simple. They throw in His face what they have done. So God must speak. And He does speak — how powerfully!
A Nazarite was a person set apart to God by a vow, with uncut hair as the mark of it. Samson, blind and in chains, looked like proof that Dagon was the stronger god — and one writer turns that on God's people.
His enemies have blinded him. To them, at least, this proves that Dagon is stronger than God! Have not God's people done the same? Have they not fallen into the hands of the uncircumcised? Have they not lost their Nazarite separation by mixing with worldly people? And so, by accepting the evil, they testify without words that evil is greater than good, and that the world holding them captive is stronger than God.
The feast goes on as if God had nothing to say about it. Yet He was remembering two things there, and neither one was Dagon.
The Philistines give their false god the credit for their success. God remembers His own glory, and His poor servant humbled under the discipline of his sin. The Philistines gather to enjoy their victory and glorify their false gods. But Jehovah had His eye on all this. In his humiliation, the thought of the Lord had more power over Samson's heart; his Nazarite strength was returning. Who would fear a blind and suffering prisoner? But who in this world knows the secret of Jehovah?… He had joined himself to the world by listening to it, and he must share the judgment that falls on the world.
Samson's lowest moment is that he becomes the entertainment. One writer sees the same thing happening today.
They gather in huge crowds to hold a feast to Dagon, and they want Samson to entertain them. How low that man Samson has sunk, to be the entertainment for the Philistines! … I see a gifted man, a man who can speak well, a man who knows the Scriptures. I see him — shall I say it? — playing up to a worldly spirit in the professing church… Many a man who looks like a real Samson is really a poor, blinded slave of the Philistines.
The judgment that followed fitted what the crowd was doing.
It was fitting that such an awesome judgment should fall on the Philistines just then. They were enjoying the humiliation of a man who had once been strong and had lost his strength. More than that, they were offering sacrifice to Dagon, their idol, and so insulting and challenging the God of heaven and earth. Their god had no power to deliver them from a catastrophic end under the judgment of the God of Israel.
- Credit misplaced. Once Dagon got the credit, the fight was no longer the Philistines against a fallen man. It was Dagon against God.
- Credit demanded. Give an idol God's honour to His face, and God answers for Himself. He did it when the Philistines set the ark before Dagon, and Dagon fell.
- Credit lost. A believer tangled up with the world preaches without words. The message is that evil beats good, and that the captor beats God.
- Credit hijacked. A gifted speaker can end up amusing the very crowd his gifts were meant to resist. The man who looks like a Samson may be the blind slave.
- Credit restored. God remembered His own glory and His humbled servant. The feast that insulted Him ended with Dagon unable to save anyone in the building.
And it came to pass when their hearts were merry, that they said, Call for Samson, that he may make us sport. And they called for Samson out of the prison-house, and he played before them; and they set him between the pillars.
Samson's last public appearance is a joke at a religious party — blind, shaved, and dragged out of prison to amuse the crowd. How did God's strong man become the world's entertainment, and what is God doing while the Philistines laugh?
One writer measures how far Samson has fallen, then turns it on any gifted believer today:
They gather in great crowds to hold a feast to Dagon, and they want Samson to entertain them. Oh how low that man Samson has sunk, to be the entertainment of the Philistines! I see a gifted man, a man able to speak well, a man with a knowledge of Scripture, and I see him — shall I say it? — flattering a worldly spirit in the professing church. To me it looks like either grinding corn for the Philistines, or entertaining them. Many a man who looks a real Samson is in fact a poor, blinded slave of the Philistines.
He is there because he gave away a secret that belonged to God.
To hold and keep a secret proves you are close to a friend. But the secret of God, being trusted with His confidence, is the highest privilege of all. 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. What do the enemies of God have to do with the secret of God? That is how Samson gave himself up to his enemies. Every attempt against him was powerless as long as he kept his Nazirite separation. When he lost that separation, Samson still looked as strong and impressive as before. But the LORD was no longer with him. "I will go out as at other times and shake myself free." But he did not know that the LORD had left him.
His chains and his darkness do more than punish him:
Samson, now blinded, begins to see more clearly than when the lust of his eyes held him captive. His bonds set him free; his darkness gives him light. It is the goodness of God that leaves His people to the consequences of their sins. He does it so the bitter fruit may condemn the tree, and so they may find fellowship with Him through experience, however painful. How much better to learn by His word through faith!
Recovery is not the same as full restoration:
His hair began to grow again. He was learning all over again that there was no strength in himself. But he has lost something that will never come back. He has lost his eyesight, and he can never get it back. God never fully restores what a person has once thrown away by his own deliberate, repeated fault.
By giving the credit to their idol, the Philistines change who they are fighting:
The Philistines always make mistakes; Satan always overreaches himself. The Philistines are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give it to Dagon their god. Now the question is no longer between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is between Dagon and God.
The helplessness they laugh at is what puts him in position, and it decides how he dies.
Who would be afraid of a blind, broken prisoner? But who in this world knows the secret of the LORD? He is a slave, robbed of his sight for ever. Yet his state gives him an opportunity his strength could never win before his unfaithfulness took that strength away. But he is blind and enslaved, and he must himself perish in the judgment he brings on the wickedness of his enemies. He had identified himself with the world by listening to it, and he must share the judgment that falls on the world.
God answers the mockery Himself:
What a God we have to deal with, as Samson had! How He magnified Himself in that hour of deep humiliation and agony. They put Samson on show before those uncircumcised haters of Israel, who wrongly hoped they were watching their idol triumph over the LORD. Samson found it easier to die for His name than to go on living like this in Philistia. But God kept great things for his death. What a picture of — and yet what a contrast to — the death of Him who carried His complete devotion to the will of God to the very end. He did not only do that will; He suffered it to the uttermost.
- Secret — Samson's strength hung on a confidence kept with God. Once he handed it to an enemy, he looked the same but had no power.
- Sport — a gifted man who loses that separation ends up entertaining the world. The same danger meets anyone who uses real ability to please a worldly spirit.
- Sight — his eyes never came back. God does not fully restore what deliberate, repeated sin has thrown away.
- Seeing — yet the blind prisoner sees more clearly than he ever did with two good eyes. God lets consequences teach what His word could have taught first.
- Showdown — once the Philistines gave the credit to Dagon, the fight was no longer about Samson but about God. Their great celebration became the hour of their ruin.
And Samson said to the lad that held him by the hand, Let loose of me, and suffer me to feel the pillars upon which the house stands, that I may lean upon them.
Samson stands in Dagon's temple as a blind prisoner, brought out to entertain the crowd that once feared him. He asks the boy leading him to let him feel the pillars that hold up the building, and that small request is not what it seems.
The detail that measures Samson's fall is the hand he is holding. One writer traces the whole slide, from the loss of his hair to the loss of his freedom:
Samson lost his hair, and his power was gone. "He did not know that the LORD had left him." How far we may get from God without knowing it! His hair gone, his power gone, he was at once easy prey for his enemies, who put his eyes out. His disobedience left him a helpless creature, led by a boy.
His ruin came in stages, and not all of it was the enemy's doing:
Samson first loses his strength, and that is his own folly. Next the Philistines put out his eyes, because a religion of mere outward form cannot bear open eyes. He has lost his discernment, and this he never regains. What a humiliation! What an irreparable loss. One writer has called this three-stage ruin the "binding, blinding, grinding" bondage of sin.
Losing his eyes did something for Samson that having them never did:
Samson also, blinded, begins to see more clearly than when the lust of his eyes held him captive. His bonds set him free; his darkness gives him light. God is good, and that goodness leaves His people to the consequences of their sins. The bitter fruit condemns the tree. Then, through that experience, however painful, they find fellowship with Him. How much better it is to learn by His word through faith!
His guards put him right where he wanted to be, and his excuse is thinner than it sounds:
When they brought Samson out to their huge idol temple, they gloated over his humiliated condition (v. 25). But they placed him in just the position that he wanted, between two pillars that supported the temple. These pillars must have been close together... The boy was unsuspecting, though Samson would not need two pillars to lean on.
Commentators read his posture — feeling for the pillars, then bowing — as the act of a man at the end of his own resources:
God is going to intervene, and He does it through this very man whose weakness is now so obvious. He has been crushed; he has been brought to the end of himself... he says, in effect, I must get free of this bondage. But there is only one way, and that is by getting free of himself. Samson reaches the end of his bondage when he reaches the end of himself. He takes hold of those pillars. The Philistines have no Jachin or Boaz holding up their temple, as God's temple is upheld by the everlasting truth of their names: "He will establish" and "In Him is strength." Then, bowing himself, as if admitting his own utter folly, he tears down the whole wretched building. He is crushed under the load that crushes his enemies too.
The Philistines have given their idol the credit for beating Samson:
The Philistines are going to give the credit to Dagon their god. So now it is not a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines, but a question between Dagon and God... When they hold a great celebration for Dagon, and credit him with the victory over Samson, they are doing nothing but defying God. They throw in His face what they have done, and so God must speak. He does speak — and how effectively.
The chapter does not close on the failure. Another writer notes how rare prayer was in this man's life, and how much weight his last one carries:
Samson got back his place as a man set apart to God in this state of bitter humiliation... Samson was not a man of prayer. Only twice in all his history do we hear him speaking to God. Here, while his enemies were celebrating their triumph, Samson cried to the LORD. For my own part, I value in a man of God an end brighter than the beginning... Yes, Samson's end was a splendid victory.
- Bound — the fall came in three stages: binding, blinding, grinding. His own folly cost him his strength, and his enemies took his eyes.
- Blind — with his eyes gone he began to see more clearly than when his eyes ruled him; his darkness gave him light.
- Leaning — feeling for the pillars looked like a tired man steadying himself. No one needs two pillars to lean on.
- Emptied — he got free of his bondage only when he got free of himself.
- Answered — the Philistines gave their idol the credit. The quarrel was no longer with Samson but with God, and God spoke.
Now the house was full of men and women; and all the lords of the Philistines were there; and upon the roof there were about three thousand men and women, who looked on while Samson made sport.
Samson stands blind and chained between two pillars while a nation crowds in to watch him. The verse pauses to count the audience — and that count becomes the measure of the judgment about to fall.
One writer describes the scene:
The temple was full of people, including the lords of the Philistines. About 3,000 men and women were on the roof. It seems to have been a viewing deck, giving them a clear view of what was happening inside.
The rulers and the crowd had come for one reason: to watch him perform.
Brought as low as he could be, Samson becomes their entertainment as well as their slave. But God was about to magnify Himself and His own ways.
The crowd had not simply beaten a man. They gave the credit for their victory to Dagon, their god. That changed who the real opponent was.
The Philistines always make mistakes; Satan overreaches himself always. The Philistines are now going to give credit to someone else. They are going to give credit to Dagon their god. So now it is no longer a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
Every eye in the building was on Samson, yet nobody in the building understood what they were looking at. His helplessness was what gave him his opening.
The Philistines ascribe their success to their false god. God remembers His own glory, and His poor servant humbled under the chastisement of his sin... Who would fear a blind and afflicted prisoner? But who in this world knows the secret of the Lord? A slave, and blind for life, his condition gives him an opportunity. His strength had never been able to win it, before his unfaithfulness took it from him... He had identified himself with the world by listening to it, and he must share the judgment that falls on the world.
The timing is the point. One writer applies it to the world and to the assembly of God's people:
If the unfaithfulness of the assembly has given the world power over it, the world for its part has attacked the rights of God by corrupting the assembly. So the world brings judgment down on itself at the very moment of its greatest triumph. That judgment puts an end to the existence of the Nazarite, and to his misery as well. At the same time it destroys the whole glory of the world in one common ruin.
A Nazirite was a man set apart to God by a vow. Samson does not walk away from this ruin; he dies in it.
One writer turns the scene on the reader. Gifts of speech and Bible knowledge can be spent pleasing the crowd.
How low has that man Samson sunk, to make sport for the Philistines! I see a gifted man, a man with abilities of eloquence, a man with a knowledge of Scripture, and I see him — shall I say? — flattering a worldly spirit in the professing church... Many a man who looks like a real Samson is really a poor, blinded slave of the Philistines.
The way out of that room was not more strength. It was the collapse of self-confidence.
He has been crushed, he has been brought to the end of himself. And there, as he performs for the Philistines, he says, in effect: I must get clear of this bondage. But there is only one way, and that is by getting clear of himself. Samson gets to the end of his bondage when he gets to the end of himself.
Commentators differ over what was in Samson's heart at that moment. One reads his prayer as still self-centred. "Even at the end of his life it was not God's glory that meant most to him, but revenge for personal harm" (Leslie M. Grant). Others see real faith there, and point to Hebrews:
Perhaps he was the person the writer, by the Spirit of God, had in mind when he wrote of those who "by faith ... were made strong out of weakness" (Hebrews 11:34). We read of the deep groaning prayer in which Samson called to the Lord to give him back his strength. He asked it so that he might fulfil his purpose at the end.
- Watched. The house was full, and three thousand more lined the roof to stare at a broken man.
- Worshipped. The crowd gave Dagon the credit for the win. That turned a local victory into a challenge against God Himself.
- Written off. No one feared the blind prisoner. No one in that building knew the secret of the Lord.
- Wrecked. The world's judgment fell at the very peak of its celebration, burying its glory in one common ruin.
- Warned. A gifted believer can end up entertaining the crowd that holds him captive. Freedom starts when he comes to the end of himself.
And Samson called to Jehovah, and said, Lord Jehovah, remember me, I pray thee, and strengthen me, I pray thee, only this once, O God, that I may take one vengeance upon the Philistines for my two eyes.
Samson's last recorded words are a prayer. A blind prisoner stands between two pillars while a crowd laughs at him. It is a real cry to God, and God answers it. Yet what he asks for raises a hard question: can God hear a prayer when the heart behind it is still wrong?
He asks for strength to pay the Philistines back for the loss of his sight. Commentators do not smooth this over.
He prayed to the Lord for special strength, so that he could take vengeance on the Philistines for his two eyes (v. 28). Even at the end of his life it was not God's glory that meant most to him, but revenge for personal harm. Yet he was a believer, as Hebrews 11:32 shows, and God answered his prayer by giving him superhuman strength.
The same weakness shows even here, and yet the prayer does not go unheard.
I am far from doubting that God worked in the man He had made the champion of His people. I feel sure that in moral terms he saw more clearly without them than he ever had with them. He had far too often made a wretched use of them in the past. And even now, despite God's work in his soul, was there nothing weightier to lament over than the loss of those two eyes? Nothing deeper? It was Samson feeling for himself, yet not unpitied by the Lord; for there was One above Samson who heard.
The Philistines had gathered to celebrate their win. Their own boasting turned the day against them.
Ah, the Philistines always make mistakes. Satan always overreaches himself. The Philistines are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give the credit to Dagon their god. So now it is no longer a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
His strength was never his own muscle. It hung on his vow of separation to God, marked by uncut hair.
Here was one separated to God, set apart for the Lord. So he was placed under a defined obedience: his hair was not to be cut. While the command was kept, his strength stayed with him. Uncut hair and all-conquering strength might seem to have little to do with each other. But God was in it. A God whom we obey and honour is a God of strength to us. It was God's strength, given to one who recognised Him so plainly. Keeping the gift hung on obedience.
Something came back to him. Something did not.
As to Samson, his hair began to grow again. Ah, he had learnt. He was learning over again that there was no strength in himself. The badge of dependence, the badge of separation, is coming back — but he has lost something that will never come again. He has lost his eyesight, and he can never get it back. God never fully restores what a person has once thrown away by deliberate, repeated fault. He may restore in part.
The ending, though, is not a defeat. One writer weighs a life by how it closes.
Samson was not a man of prayer. Only twice in all his history do we hear him addressing God. Here, while his enemies were celebrating their triumph, Samson cried to the LORD. For my part, in a man of God I value an end brighter than the beginning — though this is surely not the highest thing. Yes, Samson's end was a splendid victory.
But he cannot escape the ruin he brings down.
Who would fear a blind and afflicted prisoner? But who in this world knows the secret of the Lord? He is a slave, blind for the rest of his life. Yet his position gives him an opportunity that his strength had never been able to win, back before his unfaithfulness took that strength away. But he is blind and enslaved, and he must perish himself in the judgment he brings on the wickedness of his enemies. He had identified himself with the world by listening to it, and he must share the judgment that falls on the world.
Samson's death achieved more than his life. Commentators see here a picture that points beyond him — and a sharp contrast.
What a figure of — and contrast with — the death of Him who carried His complete devotedness to the will of God all the way to that final point. He did not merely do God's will; He suffered it to the very end. So by His death He righteously secured what no living obedience could have touched.
- Weakness prays. Samson's request still carries his old self-interest — revenge "for my two eyes." Yet God did not throw out this flawed cry. One above Samson heard.
- Strength is a gift. He asks for strength because the power was never his own. It hung on his separation to God, and God gives it.
- Recovery is partial. The hair grows back, the eyesight never does. God may restore in part, but deliberate, repeated fault costs what He does not fully give back.
- God's glory decides it. The Philistines gave the credit to Dagon. So the contest was no longer Samson against his enemies. It was Dagon against God.
- Victory costs him. He kills more in dying than in living. But he had joined himself to the world, so he shares its judgment — unlike the One whose death secured what no living obedience could touch.
And Samson took hold of the two middle pillars upon which the house stood (and he supported himself upon them), the one with his right hand and the other with his left.
Samson is blind and in chains. His captors have brought him out of prison to amuse a crowd in the temple of Dagon, the god of the Philistines. He reaches for the two pillars that hold the building up. This is his lowest moment, and it is where God acts. Two questions follow: where does strength come from, and why did this victory cost Samson everything?
The Philistines chose where to stand him. One commentator points out that they chose the one spot Samson wanted, and that the boy leading him suspected nothing.
When they brought Samson out to their huge idol temple, they gloated over his humiliated condition. But they placed him in just the position that he wanted, between two pillars that supported the temple. These pillars must have been close together. Samson asked a boy who was guiding him to let him feel the pillars so he could lean on them. The boy suspected nothing, though Samson would not need two pillars to lean on.
The Philistines gave the credit for their victory to their own god. One writer says that changed who the real contest was between.
The Philistines always make mistakes. Satan always overreaches himself. The Philistines are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give the credit to Dagon their god. So now it is not a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
The same writer sets two buildings side by side. The Philistine house rests on pillars that can be pulled down. God's house rests on two pillars called Jachin and Boaz, and their names say what God does.
He has been crushed, he has been brought to the end of himself. There, as he performs feats of strength in front of the Philistines, he says in effect: I must get clear of this bondage. But there is only one way, and that is by getting clear of himself. Samson gets to the end of his bondage when he gets to the end of himself. He takes those pillars. The Philistines have no Jachin or Boaz at their temple to hold it up. God's temple is held up by the everlasting truth of "He will establish" and "In Him is strength."
Samson had very little left. One writer turns that into a charge for believers who also feel they have little left.
All Samson had was two pillars, and he held them fast and made use of them. What a responsibility we have. Some features of the church may be out of reach now, because of the ruin that has come into it. That does not mean we should give up. We must seek to keep what belongs to the whole church — but in simplicity, not claiming any greatness for ourselves, and recognising how feeble our effort is, as Samson did.
One writer weighs the manner of this death, and what it showed about Samson and about Israel.
Though the dying hour of Samson brought more honour to God than all his life, its manner was in itself a chastening. In this, too, we can see a picture of the condition Israel had come to, like what was seen in the life and person of Samson. For what can be more humiliating than that a man's death should matter more than his life? Things had come to this point, and it brought no glory to anyone involved. The best thing for Israel and Judah, the best thing for God's glory, and the best thing for Samson himself, was that he should die.
Commentators differ over reading this scene as a picture of the cross. One holds back. He says the comparison "seems too partial, too much contradicted by other parts" of the story (F. W. Grant). Another draws the link, but as a contrast rather than a likeness.
Samson found it easier to die for His name than to live like that in Philistia. But God kept great things for his death. What a picture of the death of Christ — and yet what a contrast! He alone carried His complete devotion to the will of God right to that final point. He did not only do God's will; He suffered it to the very end. So, by His death, He righteously secured what no living obedience could have touched.
- Bondage — his chains were the outward sign of an inner bondage. He got free of the Philistines only by getting free of himself.
- Pillars — two pillars were all he had left, and he held them fast. Weakness is no excuse for letting go of what remains.
- Dagon — the crowd had turned this into a contest between their idol and the God of Israel. God acted for His own name, not only for Samson's.
- Cost — the victory was real, but his death mattered more than his life, and that is a humiliation, not a trophy.
- Contrast — Samson died under the ruin of his own failure. Christ went to death in full obedience, and won what no living obedience could reach.
And Samson said, Let me die with the Philistines! And he bowed himself with might; and the house fell on the lords, and on all the people that were therein. So the dead that he slew at his death were more than those whom he had slain in his life.
Samson's story ends in a Philistine temple. He is blind and mocked, standing between two pillars in a building packed with his enemies. His last act killed more enemies than his whole life had. Was that a triumph, a tragedy, or both?
Samson's last act came after he had lost everything. One writer ties that emptiness to what God then did through him:
God is going to intervene, and He does it through this very man whose weakness is now so obvious. He has been crushed, he has been brought to the end of himself... Samson gets to the end of his bondage when he gets to the end of himself. He takes hold of the two pillars of the Philistine house. Then he bows himself, as if admitting his own utter folly, and tears down the whole wretched building. He is crushed beneath the load which crushes his enemies too.
The crowd had gathered to credit their god with Samson's capture. That celebration changed who the real opponents were.
The Philistines always make mistakes. Satan always overreaches himself. The Philistines are now going to give the credit to someone else. They are going to give it to Dagon their god. So now it is not a question between poor failing Samson and the Philistines. It is a question between Dagon and God.
The collapse settled the case. Another writer sums up what Dagon could do for his worshippers:
They were offering sacrifice to Dagon, their idol, and so insulting and challenging the God of heaven and earth. Their god had no power to deliver them from a catastrophic end under the judgment of the God of Israel.
Commentators do not read this ending as pure glory. One holds two things together: Samson's death honoured God, and the way it came was itself a discipline.
Though the dying hour of Samson brought more honour to God than all his life, the way it happened was itself a discipline... For what can be more humiliating than that one's death should be more important than one's life? Things had reached a shameful point for everyone involved. The best thing for Israel and Judah, the best thing for God's glory and for Samson himself, was that he should die.
Another writer reads the same ending more brightly, and compares it with how Solomon finished:
Samson was not a man of prayer. Only twice in all his history do we hear him speaking to God. Here, while his enemies were celebrating their triumph, Samson cried to the LORD... to end like that was far better than to finish as Solomon did, in idolatry, after a magnificent reign of wisdom and power. Yes, Samson's end was a splendid victory.
One writer sees a picture of Christ here, and the sharp difference too:
Samson felt it easier to die for His name than to live like this in Philistia. But God reserved great things for his death. What a picture of Christ's death, and yet what a contrast with it. He alone carried His complete devotion to the will of God right to that final point. He did not only do God's will; He suffered it to the very end. So by His death He righteously secured what no living obedience could have touched.
The pattern carries into Christian experience:
In practice Christ's death overcame all foes of every kind... Samson died with the wicked. But in that last terrible struggle he glorified God, for "the dead whom he killed at his death were more than those whom he had killed during his life." This is a true summary of every soul that has learned the power of Christ's death. The one who conquers there overcomes every foe, even him who has the power of death. It teaches us that death alone can deliver the strongest man from the place of temptation and failure.
Samson finished with almost nothing — and used it. One writer turns that into encouragement for anyone left with little:
All Samson had was two pillars, and he held them fast and made use of them... At the very end he bowed himself with all his might. His power was small by comparison, but bowing himself put it to real use.
The result outlived him. The Philistines fall silent in the record afterwards:
That day destroyed so many of them at once, and no doubt many of their leading lords and chiefs among them. It would have a subduing effect on their spirits.
- Emptied — Samson only gets free of his bondage when he gets to the end of himself. The load that crushes his enemies crushes him too.
- Prayed — Samson speaks to God only twice in his whole story, and the last time is here. Writers call his end a splendid victory; one also calls it a discipline.
- Challenged — the Philistines gave Dagon the credit. So the contest became their god against God, and their god could not save them.
- Foreshadowed — his death is a picture of Christ's death and its opposite. Christ secured by dying what no living obedience could reach.
- Multiplied — two pillars, held fast, were enough. He killed more at his death than in his life, and the Philistines stayed quiet for years.
And his brethren came down, and all the house of his father, and took him, and brought him up, and buried him between Zoreah and Eshtaol in the sepulchre of Manoah his father. And he had judged Israel twenty years.
Samson's story ends with a funeral, not a battle cry: his family carry him home and bury him in his father's grave. The verse then repeats an earlier line — twenty years judging Israel — and that raises the chapter's real question: what did his life achieve?
One writer treats the twenty-year note as a dividing line in Samson's record.
The note about his judgeship in Israel, which lasted twenty years, divides the story of Samson's deeds into two parts. The first part gives the heroic acts that win him the place of recognised authority, which he keeps for a time. The second shows his fall and ruin through being unfaithful to his calling as a Nazarite, though in his death he is victorious once more.
The phrase sounds national. The promise given before his birth spoke only of a beginning, and his area was one corner of the land.
The angel told his parents that he was to be a Nazarite (that is, a separated one) from his birth. Israel was in bondage to the Philistines, the internal enemies of God's people, and God had to raise up a Nazarite to work out their deliverance. The words "he judged Israel twenty years" no doubt mean the south-west parts of the land, near Philistine country. It was said of Samson before his birth: "He shall begin to deliver Israel out of the hand of the Philistines."
One writer weighs what those twenty years changed.
Samson's relatives were at least concerned not to leave his body in the rubble of the Philistine temple. The twenty years he had judged Israel did not relieve Israel of Philistine oppression, though he was a thorn in the side of the Philistines.
This ending is a victory, but one writer reads a rebuke in it too.
Samson's dying hour brought more honour to God than all his life. Yet the way he died was itself a kind of chastening… For what can be more humiliating than that a man's death should matter more than his life? Things had come to this point — a shameful one for everyone involved. The best thing for Israel and Judah, the best thing for God's glory and for Samson himself, was that he should die.
Another writer refuses to let the record close in defeat, and sets Samson's finish beside Solomon's.
Thank God, the history of the last of the judges does not close with this defeat. God will have the final victory in spite of the unfaithfulness of His witnesses… To end like Samson, whose life held so many contrasts… was far better than to end his career like Solomon, worshipping idols after a magnificent reign of wisdom and power. Yes, Samson's end was a splendid victory.
God gave Samson something back, but not everything.
As to Samson, his hair began to grow again. He had learned. He was learning over again that there was no strength in himself. The mark of dependence, the mark of separation as a Nazarite, is coming back. But he has lost something that will never come back. He has lost his eyesight and can never get it back. God never fully restores what a person has once thrown away by his own deliberate, repeated fault. He may restore in part.
Scripture's last word on Samson is not in Judges at all.
Despite Samson's failures, God achieved the purpose for which He had raised him up: He subdued the Philistines. But it only came about through Samson's own death. Scripture names Samson among the cloud of witnesses who "obtained a good report through faith," but it does not record his acts there. Heb. 11:32.
- Separation. He was a Nazarite — a man set apart to God — and the whole record turns on whether he kept that place or gave it up.
- Fall. The second half of his life is the story of being unfaithful to that calling, and it cost him his eyes.
- Recovery. The hair grew back, but the sight never did. God may restore in part; what a person throws away by repeated fault is not always given back.
- Victory. His death brought God more honour than all his living years. That is a real triumph, and a humbling verdict on the years before it.
- Verdict. The twenty years never lifted the Philistine yoke. Yet his name stands among those commended for faith — his acts unlisted, his faith counted.