And it came to pass afterwards that he loved a woman in the valley of Sorek, whose name was Delilah.
After years of astonishing strength, the man set apart to God gives his heart to a Philistine woman. Commentators read this verse as the last step of a slow decline, and it raises one question — what happens when our love settles where God's heart is not set?
Samson had failed before through his eyes and his appetites. This time one word in the verse marks something new.
One word, which the Spirit of God uses, gives the key to this last trap. It says, "After this he loved a woman in the Valley of Sorek, whose name was Delilah." This word "loved" shows that Satan had now found Samson's special weakness. He combined the two earlier temptations into one. He drew Samson to Delilah through his natural affections and through his bodily desires at the same time.
The same writer applies this to us. The moment our hearts are set on what the Lord's heart is not set on, we are out of communion. And out of communion, we soon become easy prey to every passing temptation.
The fall did not begin in this verse. Samson was a Nazirite: a man under a vow that set him apart to God. One writer traces three women, and three steps down.
In Samson's life, three women mark the three stages that led to the loss of his Nazirite standing. The first pleased his eyes. He formed a passing connection with the second (Judges 16:1), and he loved the third (Judges 16:4). When he gave his affections, the last hour of his Nazirite life had sounded.
The place itself carries the message. A Nazirite's vow forbade him the fruit of the vine.
Sorek means "the vine." It is a sad sight. The victorious Nazirite, who had lived on the rock and drunk from the well there, now goes down to drink from the brook that ran through the valley of the vines. As a Nazirite he had refused the fruit of the vine, and at the start of his career he had killed a lion in the vineyards. There he overcame the strong one. Now, in the valley of the vines, he falls victim to Delilah, whose name means weakness.
Commentators differ on the name. Another reads Sorek as "a snare," and hears in the going down a moral descent, not just a change of place.
Her name carries the point. Weakness brings down Israel's strongest man.
Here is the strong man caught in the trap, and the weak woman — whose very name seems to mean "weakness" or helplessness. That very woman, in her weakness and helplessness, is the one who draws him and holds him. Nothing can free him from her power, because his own heart has come under that power.
Samson had every warning. Delilah tried more than once to hand him over, and he stayed.
Here we meet more than the old sin repeated, and in its most corrupt form. With it comes an infatuation as extraordinary as his disgrace. Without that infatuation, the repeated attempts to seize him would have opened his eyes to her trickery and their murderous hatred. But the way of those who break God's law is hard, and the guilty man falls under this strange woman's spell again and again. Such is the blinding power of sin. Was he ignorant of her vileness, or of his own danger?
Strip away the drama and one thing was on trial. Samson's uncut hair was not a magic charm but a visible sign of a life given to God.
His unshaven hair carried his unbeatable strength, by God's will. Only one thing was really involved — obedience... It is the perfection of the creature, giving God His place and man his own. It is the lowliest place for anyone here on earth, and at the same time the morally highest, as it is for the angels above.
Kelly adds that Samson fell as Adam fell, and as everyone since has fallen. Only Christ stood, though He was tried as no one else ever was.
- Descent — The fall came slowly. One woman pleased his eyes. One he visited briefly. The third he loved, and each step went deeper than the last.
- Affection — The word "loved" is the hinge. Earlier traps caught his senses. This one caught his heart — and once the heart is caught, the last hour has sounded.
- Location — He went down to the valley of the vine, the very thing his vow forbade. Another reading of the name is "a snare." Moral descent has a geography.
- Blindness — He had plenty of proof of Delilah's design, and stayed anyway. Such is the blinding power of sin.
- Obedience — Behind the hair, the strength and the secret stood one issue: obedience. It gives God His place and man his own. Samson lost it; Christ never did.
And the lords of the Philistines came up to her, and said to her, Persuade him, and see in what his great strength is, and with what we may prevail against him, that we may bind him to overpower him; and we will each give thee eleven hundred silver-pieces.
The five Philistine rulers do not attack Samson. They go to the woman he loves and put a price on the one thing they cannot break: the secret of his strength.
They lay this plot while Samson is away. One writer treats that hidden meeting as the hinge of the whole story.
The most important thing in the story may be a conversation Samson never heard and never knew about. The five lords of the Philistines came to Delilah and said, "Entice him, and see where his great strength lies" (Judges 16:5). This is very like the time when Satan asked the Lord's permission to deal with Job, to test him and afflict him. As far as we can see, from the start of that story to the end, Job never knew what lay behind his terrible suffering.
Earlier the Philistines had used terror on someone close to Samson. With Delilah they change the currency.
He goes down there and links himself with her, and the Philistines make full use of that. If he has put himself under the power of a principle that is not according to God, a visible power will soon take hold of him — something more than the power over his heart. They offer this woman pay. Philistines are not very careful about how they do things. The first time, they appealed to one of Samson's friends with a threat: they would burn her and her father's house with fire. Now they appeal to this one with silver — eleven hundred pieces of it — if she will only entice from him what he had never yet disclosed: the secret of his strength.
The rulers do not say "seize him" or "frighten him." Where the ESV has "seduce him," older translations read "entice him" — and that word had already appeared once in Samson's story.
Samson's weakness was now plain to see. Even the lords of the Philistines, Satan's instruments, had found the quickest way to trap their enemy. "Entice him," they say to Delilah, "and see where his great strength lies, and by what means we may overcome him." Notice the word "entice." It is the same word Samson's "companions" used at his wedding feast. It unfolds the secret of Satan's method. He will terrify where possible; but failing that, he always turns to enticements. Many a servant of the Lord has stood in the front line of the battle. By God's grace he never flinched under Satan's fiercest attacks. Yet afterwards he fell an easy victim to this more subtle temptation.
The Philistines had felt Samson's power without ever understanding it.
Until now, Samson had guarded his close and secret relationship with God, despite everything. He had something the world could not understand. The world could not rise to its source. His strength remained a riddle to his enemies. No doubt they saw its effect, but that effect was aimed at them. So they were all the more eager to wrest the secret of it from him, and to learn what weapons to use against this servant of the Lord.
Samson had already failed openly and often. Yet the enemy still had ground to take.
It seems strange, almost unthinkable. Samson had failed so openly, and yet the stronghold of his heart was still on the right side. It was not in the hands of the enemy, although it had been unfaithful time and again. But the stronghold, the innermost soul of the man, was still for God, who in mercy had so far stepped in on his behalf. Now Delilah is to lay siege to that stronghold of his heart. She is to draw the key from him, so that the enemy may rush in and take full possession.
One writer weighs what a person loses by handing God's secret to a stranger.
Samson had no excuse for yielding to Delilah's flattery. But she had trapped him in her snares; otherwise he would have drawn back in horror from what she asked. "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."
- Secret targeted. His strength was a riddle his enemies could feel but not explain. So they set out to wrest its secret from him and learn what weapon would work.
- Secret besieged. His heart's stronghold was still on God's side; Delilah's task was to get the key to it so the enemy could rush in.
- Secret enticed. They do not say "seize him" but "entice him" — Satan terrifies where he can, and where he cannot, he allures.
- Secret priced. They threatened one woman with fire; this one they paid — eleven hundred pieces of silver.
- Secret betrayed. To hold God's confidence is the highest privilege; to hand it to a stranger is to despise that place — and to lose it.
Then Delilah said to Samson, Tell me, I pray thee, in what is thy great strength, and with what thou mightest be bound to overpower thee.
Delilah asks Samson straight out what makes him strong, and how an enemy could tie him down and beat him. The Philistine rulers have bribed her to ask, and the strange thing is not the question but that Samson stays to hear it.
The rulers went to Delilah because nothing about Samson accounted for what he did. His power was not in his build. It came from his place before God as a Nazirite — a man set apart to God, marked by hair that was never cut.
We should not imagine Samson to be a giant with an impressive physique. Samson's strength was a mystery to the Philistines. They had to turn to Delilah: "Persuade him, and see in what his great strength is." But that great strength depended entirely on his consecration as a Nazirite. When his hair was cut off, he became as weak as a child.
Samson is in this conversation because he gave way to his own heart. Even so, his secret had held until now.
This is where the path ends for the child of God who gives way to the first stirrings of his natural heart, instead of judging them. Until now Samson had guarded his close, secret relationship with God, despite everything. He had something the world could not understand, and its source was beyond the world's reach. His strength remained a riddle to his enemies. No doubt they saw its effects — effects aimed at themselves. That made them all the more eager to wrench the secret out of him, so they could find out what weapons to use against this servant of the Lord.
The rulers send a woman, not an army. That choice shows how the enemy usually works.
He will terrify where possible. Failing that, he always turns to enticements. Many a servant of the Lord has stood in the front line of the battle. By God's grace he never flinched under Satan's fiercest attacks. Yet afterwards he fell an easy victim to this more subtle temptation.
She states her purpose openly, so the fault here is Samson's.
Samson had no excuse for giving in to Delilah's flattery. But she had caught him in her net, 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 neither tells the truth nor walks away. He answers with a boast about an old victory.
Have you boasted of some past victory in such a way that it has become the start of a fresh trap? Samson here is thinking of his past victory over the Philistines, how he snapped the cords. He says, I will do it again... And so he did — he broke the cords, but he now had a fresh cord around his soul. It was boasting in 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.
Nothing in nature links long hair to power. The link was obedience to what God had commanded.
There might have seemed little connection between uncut hair and all-conquering strength. But God was in it. A God who is obeyed and honoured is a God of strength to us. This was God's strength, given to a man who recognised Him so clearly. It was a gift he kept only by obeying — by staying true to the vow of separation to God that he had taken.
The same secret holds for anyone serving God today, and the danger to it is quiet, not loud.
The secret of his strength is what we have been seeing all through. It is the secret of a judged self, of weakness, of utter helplessness leaning on almighty strength... there is no power he need fear so much as hidden alliances with what is not according to God.
The same question can be put to Christ Himself.
We must now ask our beloved Lord Delilah's question: "Please tell me the secret of where your great strength lies." The answer comes at once. He always walked His pathway with the "joy of the Lord" as His strength.
- The secret is separation. Samson's power was never muscle; it rested wholly on his consecration to God, marked by uncut hair.
- The secret stays hidden. His enemies saw the effects but not the source, so they had to buy the answer from someone close to him.
- The secret draws enticement. Where the enemy cannot frighten a servant of God, he charms him — and front-line men fall to that more easily.
- The secret dies when you tell it. To hand God's confidence to a stranger is to despise the position grace gave you, and so to lose it.
- The secret is safest in Christ. Ask Him Delilah's question, and the answer comes at once: the joy of the Lord was His strength.
And Samson said to her, If they should bind me with seven fresh cords which have not been dried, then should I be weak, and be as another man.
The Philistine rulers have paid Delilah to find out where Samson's strength comes from. His first answer is a lie dressed up as a confession. Why would a man who could see the trap still play with it?
Older translations call the ESV's "fresh bowstrings" "green withs". One writer looks at what the words mean and at how little Samson meant by them:
He first of all tells her an untruth, when she asks to know the secret of his strength and how he might be bound. What he first tells her is plainly not serious. He seems to have no intention of letting her know the real secret of things. He says, If they will bind me with seven green withs — the margin says seven new cords that were never dried — then I shall be as weak as another man.
He was not fooled about who wanted him tied up:
Samson should certainly have seen the motive behind Delilah's demand. Who would want him stripped of strength except the Philistines? In fact, he very likely did see it, for he deceived her with his answer (v. 7).
Samson had failed often before this. Yet one part of him had still not gone over to the enemy.
It seems strange, almost unthinkable, that a man who had failed as openly as Samson should still have a heart whose citadel was on the right side. It was not in the hands of the enemy, although it had been unfaithful time and again. But the stronghold, the inmost soul of the man, was still for God, who in mercy had so far stepped in on his behalf. Now Delilah lays siege to that citadel of his heart. She means to get the key from him, so that the enemy may rush in and take full possession.
The false answer was not random. Samson reached back to a fight he had already won — and that reaching cost him more than he knew.
Samson here is thinking of his past victory over the Philistines, how he snapped the cords. He says, I will do it over again. I will tell her just what the men of Judah did to me, and then I will show what wonderful power I have. And so he did — he broke the cords; but he had a fresh cord around his soul. It was boasting in a past victory in front of a woman who had no business knowing anything about it. He had no business being there 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 before long she knows more.
The secret she was digging for looked trivial from the outside: uncut hair. Why should that hold any strength?
Here was a man separated to God, set apart for the LORD, and so placed under a defined obedience. His hair was not to be cut. While he kept the commandment and the precept, his strength was with him. There might seem to be little connection between long or uncut hair and all-conquering strength. But God was in it, and an obeyed, honoured God is a God of strength to us. It was God's strength, given to a man who so plainly recognised Him. Keeping the gift hung on obedience — on staying true to the vow of separation to God he had taken up.
The bowstrings snapped, and so did the next two traps. Those escapes were not Samson's cleverness.
Three things had failed to quench the power of the Spirit: the seven green withs that were never dried, the new ropes that were never used, and the seven locks of his head woven into the web. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. But when he gave away his secret, the mark of his dependence gone and the bond of communion between his soul and God broken, what remained for him? All his strength had vanished. God's past deliverances, despite his moral bondage, only deceived him and lulled him into security. Three times he had got himself out at the critical moment. Why not a fourth?
- Secret — Samson's power was never in his muscles. It lay in a vow, and his uncut hair was the sign of the obedience God tied the gift to.
- Siege — the citadel of his heart was still God's here. Delilah's whole work is to get the key to it.
- Trifling — his answer was a lie, told to a woman who had no business asking. The real cords snapped, but a fresh cord went round his soul.
- Mercy — three false answers met three rescues. God kept sustaining an unfaithful servant, and Samson read that patience as proof he could always shake himself free.
- Silence — when the secret went, communion and strength went with it. The escape that had worked three times did not work a fourth.
Then the lords of the Philistines brought up to her seven fresh cords which had not been dried, and she bound him with them.
Samson is living with Delilah in the valley of Sorek. The Philistine rulers have paid her to find the source of his strength. Here they act at once on the false answer he gave her.
Samson does not hand over his secret here. He plays with the question, and borrows his answer from his own past.
He first tells her an untruth when she asks the secret of his strength and how he might be bound. It is clearly said in fun. He apparently has no intention of letting her know the real secret. He says, if they bind me with seven green cords that were never dried, then I shall be as weak as any other man. I have thought that Samson had this in mind: the men of Judah once bound him with cords and handed him over to the Philistines. No doubt he remembered how he snapped those cords like a strand of flax.
Behind the lie sits a boast, and the boast tied him tighter than the cords did.
Have you boasted of some past victory in such a way that it has become the start of a fresh trap? Samson here is thinking of his past victory over the Philistines, how he snapped the cords. And so he did have that power. But he had a fresh cord around his soul. It was boasting about a past victory in front of someone who had no business knowing about it. And he had no business being with her at all.
Delilah did not supply the cords. The Philistine rulers brought them, and they had already paid her. Their method had changed since the last time they went after Samson.
They offer this woman pay. Philistines are not too troubled about right and wrong in the way they do things. The first time, they went to one of Samson's friends with a threat: they would burn her and her father's house with fire. Now they come to this one with silver — 1,100 pieces of it. She has only to draw out of him what he had never yet disclosed: the secret of his strength.
While Delilah tied him, armed men waited out of sight. Grant asks why they did not kill him where he lay.
When he was asleep Delilah tied him up with these cords while Philistine men were waiting. Then she called his name, telling him that the Philistines were upon him. We may wonder why the Philistines did not simply go in while he slept and kill him. But it seems they wanted to take him alive, to gloat over him in front of the crowd. Samson broke the cords as though they were mere strands of yarn.
The cords gave way, but the Philistines were after something ropes cannot reach.
The fortress of his heart was still unbreached. It seems strange, almost unthinkable. A man who had failed as openly as Samson still had a heart whose fortress was on the right side. It was not in the hands of the enemy, although it had been unfaithful again and again. But the stronghold, the innermost soul of the man, was still for God... Now Delilah lays siege to that fortress of his heart. She wants the key, so that the enemy may rush in and take full possession.
Delilah is hunting for a weakness in his body. Samson was a Nazarite — a man set apart to God, marked out by uncut hair.
The face of the true Nazarite had to be the face of a man: he had to be brave and unflinching in front of the enemy. But he also had to wear the long hair, like the hair of a woman, because all his power lay in dependence on God. This had to be the clearest of all the marks on him, even though it shamed him in the eyes of others. If he lost it, he became as weak as other men.
His reasons for refusing never changed. What wore down was his endurance.
Satan was working on the weakness of the human heart. He knew that souls are often betrayed by persistence. It was so with Samson. There was as much reason to refuse at the end as at the start. But Delilah pressed him daily with her words and urged him, until his soul was troubled to death and he told her all his heart.
- Bought. The cords came from the Philistine rulers. They had learned that silver worked where threats of fire had failed.
- Borrowed. Samson's lie recycled an old victory. Showing it off to someone with no right to hear it was the first binding.
- Besieged. The ropes were never the target. Delilah laid siege to the one thing still held for God — his heart.
- Bound to God. His strength lay in dependence on God, marked by uncut hair. Lose that mark and he was as weak as other men.
- Broken down. Delilah did not argue the secret out of him. She wore it out of him by daily pressure.
Now she had liers in wait abiding in the chamber; and she said to him, The Philistines are upon thee, Samson! And he broke the cords, as a thread of tow is broken when it touches the fire; and his strength was not known.
A bedroom becomes a trap. Men wait in the inner room, and Delilah shouts a warning she arranged herself. Samson snaps his bonds and never learns that she betrayed him. The verse leaves us with a puzzle — Samson lied, yet his strength held. Why did God still stand by him?
The ESV calls the cords "fresh bowstrings." An older translation calls them "green withs." One reference book explains the word:
Slender twigs twisted into a rope. Judges 16:7-9.
The men in the inner room were not there to kill him but to capture him, and they had to run for it:
We may wonder why the Philistines did not simply go in while he slept and kill him. But it seems they wanted to take him alive to gloat over him before the crowd. Samson broke the cords as though they were mere strands of yarn. Of course the men would quickly get out of there!
Samson's answer reached back to an earlier escape from cords. That memory cost 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. He says, I will do it over again... And so he did — he broke the cords, but he had a fresh cord around his soul. It was just that boasting in a past victory in the presence of one who had no business to know anything about it, and in whose presence he had no business at all.
Lies bought Samson time. They did not get him out of the room.
There was no excuse for Samson in giving in to Delilah's charms. He did not want to tell her his secret. But he could not give up his pleasures, so he used one dodge after another to keep it. His fatal mistake was that he played with the temptress instead of resisting her. So she drove him out of his refuge of lies again and again. At last she found the way into his strong fortress. Then, without a struggle, he fell into the hands of the Philistines.
The same danger reaches past Samson:
Playing with what is not of God is no help to my communion with Him. Trifling with it, or linking the things of God with the things of the world, will end in shipwreck and ruin, just as Samson found.
The cords broke because the real bond had not yet been cut. The mark of his dependence on God was still in place.
Three attempts had failed to quench the power of the Spirit: the seven green withs that were never dried, the new ropes that no one had ever used, and the seven locks of his head woven into the web. God still sustained His poor, unfaithful servant. But then he gave away his secret. That removed the mark of his dependence and destroyed the bond of communion between his soul and God. What was left for him? All his strength had vanished.
The verse ends with the secret still safe. One writer weighs what such a secret is worth:
Holding a friend's secret, and keeping it, proves you are close to him. 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 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. No attempt against him had any power as long as he kept his Nazirite separation to God.
Verse 9 ends in triumph, and that is the trap. The escape taught him nothing, and the next time he would answer more easily.
He takes one step after another, coming nearer and nearer to the cliff. At last he plunges over it recklessly. Each step taken makes the next easier. With each one his eyes are more completely sealed. Then, when his ruin is complete, he is unaware of it until the consequences overtake him.
- Secret kept. The secret of his strength was not known. While it held, no cord could hold him.
- Secret shared. God's confidence is the highest of privileges; handing it to an enemy is the way to lose it.
- Secret toyed with. He would not tell the truth, and he would not walk away. He played with the trap.
- Secret narrowed. Each dodge brought him a step closer to the edge, and each step made the next one easier.
- Secret gone. Boasting of an old victory put a fresh cord around his soul. When the bond with God went, the strength went too.
And Delilah said to Samson, Behold, thou hast mocked me and told me lies. Now tell me, I pray thee, with what thou mightest be bound.
Samson's first lie has just collapsed. Delilah now accuses him of making a fool of her, and she asks the same question again. The startling thing is not her persistence but his: he keeps answering, and treats a question about his own capture as a game.
The Philistine rulers had told Delilah to entice Samson. That one word explains how a strong man was undone by a conversation.
Notice the word "entice"; it is the same word used by Samson's "companions" at the marriage feast. It reveals the secret of how Satan works. He will terrify where he can. When that fails, he always turns to enticement. Many a servant of the Lord has stood in the front line of the battle. By God's grace he never flinched under Satan's fiercest assaults. Yet afterwards he fell an easy victim to this more subtle kind of temptation.
Samson's escape from the bowstrings was a mercy meant to wake him. His answer about new ropes shows he read it as a licence instead.
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 adding another cord to those that were to bind him. He has gone further down the road. In that I think we see God's mercy laying His hand on him, to bring him back and restore him, even though he refuses to listen. Instead he takes a deeper step into evil. So with these ropes he is now bound. If he breaks loose again, he is held more tightly than before. 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.
Samson never told Delilah the truth, so on the surface his secret was safe. Yet the danger lay in the bargaining itself, not in the secret.
Wherever a person tampers with evil, wherever he has anything to do with it at all — answering it, even if the answer is a wrong one, keeping some separation in the soul and yet at the same time being linked with it — the step has been taken, and the soul is in the hands of the enemy.
Delilah is accusing a man whose judgment had already failed. She had shown her hand once, and he acted as if she had not.
He should have known by now that she was working with the Philistines to destroy him. But his feelings had blunted his judgment.
Delilah asked outright how he could be tied up. Samson's lies were not a defence of his secret. They were a way to keep the secret and the woman at the same time.
Samson was not willing to reveal it. He could not give up his pleasures, so he used one evasion after another to keep it. His fatal mistake was that he played with the temptress instead of resisting her. So he was hunted out of his refuge of lies again and again. At last the way into his strong fortress was found, and without a struggle he fell into the hands of the Philistines.
Samson's strength held through all three bindings. The reason was not Samson himself.
Three things had failed to quench the power of the Spirit: 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. Despite his moral bondage, God had delivered him in the past. Those past deliverances only deceived him and lulled him into a false sense of safety.
This is the second time Delilah asks. The method is to ask again until the man is too tired to refuse.
By this device Satan brought about the fall of Samson in an earlier day. 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 before the persistence of his treacherous wife and "told her all his heart." The devil knows the weakness of human nature. Under persistent pressure it will often betray the saint into giving way from sheer weariness.
- Enticed, not attacked. Satan terrifies where he can. Where he cannot, he charms. Samson stood through open assault and fell to a friendly question.
- Answered, not refused. Samson never told the truth, yet answering at all was the surrender. Bargain with evil while keeping a little inward distance, and you are already in the enemy's hand.
- Hidden, not escaped. Each evasion was a hiding place. He was hunted out of it again and again, because he wanted the secret and the sin.
- Rescued, not warned. Three escapes showed God still sustaining him. Samson read them as proof he was safe. Past deliverances became the very thing that lulled him.
- Pressed, not persuaded. The devil's simplest device is repetition. Human nature gives way from sheer weariness. So the second question is the one to refuse.
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.