I GREW UP IN THE SIXTIES, when one of the worst accusations you could make was to say to someone, “You’re judging me.”
I thought of that as I read Lawson Younger’s excellent commentary on the biblical book of Judges, especially his discussion of what the word “judges” meant in the biblical context. As Younger points out, it meant something quite different from what it does now—not someone who decides cases in a court of law, but someone who helped deliver people from enemies and encouraged them to stay on the morally straight and narrow path. To put it another way, a biblical judge was a leader who helped save people from external and internal enemies.
Thus, I found myself reflecting on two questions: Does this book have anything to say to our modern discomfort with the concept of being morally judged? And, is there anything in the biblical understanding of “judges” that can help us cope with that discomfort?
I am not sure about the answer to the first question. Many have speculated wisely on why moral judgment became such a debated topic among anti-authoritarian, freedom-seeking Baby Boomers. It is fair to observe that they were not upset primarily with the idea of judgment itself since it occurs all the time and, indeed, is probably necessary for rational thinking to take place. Moreover, no one was more judgmental than the Boomers themselves when it came to decrying the injustices of the war in Vietnam, the dangers of nuclear weapons (and power), and the pervasive control of the growing multinational corporations and big government. Baby Boomers were more upset with who were the judges and with how that judging was done.
Is there, then, anything in the biblical understanding of judges that can help us cope with the modern discomfort with moral judgment? Absolutely! The core issue in Judges is not whether or not judging is done, but rather with who is God’s viceroy in doing the judging—that is, the judges, then the kings, and after them the prophets. The Bible anticipated the Baby Boomer discomfort with individual judges. Although we often hold up the prominent judges in this book as models of ethical integrity—e.g., Samson and Gideon—closer examination doesn’t warrant that “judgment.” The judges were flawed men and women who delivered Israel only because they were doing the work of the true Judge. One understands the book of Judges only when the focus is put on the necessity of righteous living rather than on the “heroes” of the story.
Thus, the Baby Boomers were right, I think, to question the rights of individuals to judge others in a legal sense when it comes to morality. They were right on target in seeing that some universal moral law is at work, a law that the governments and businesses of the world tend to ignore. We cannot trust these individual judges to get in tune with that universal law. Matthew 7 makes it clear that this kind of judgment is reserved for the Lord alone.
Here is where the contribution of Judges becomes especially helpful today. The most important issue is for us to recognize that judgment gets done by God no matter what. God’s people must figure out how that judgment is best communicated to the church and to the whole world. Who is the best vehicle for such judgment? Is it possible that the entrepreneurial and individualistic emphases of our culture make it even more improbable that individuals in any role can be judges? The temptations of power and the technology tend to accentuate the flawed nature of judges. Samson’s flaws today would become too large to be offset by his good works. Perhaps we should put less emphasis on training individual leaders to be the “next Billy Graham” or the next “pope” or whatever, and develop instead a delivery system that focuses on the community of believers as the models of what God’s standards for us are.
Perhaps the model here for us is not one of the Judges but Ruth. Why is it that when the great leaders of the biblical texts are listed, Ruth is rarely on the list? Not that she is ignored. Almost anyone who reads the story of Ruth notices an extraordinary person. But “leader” is not the label we usually affix to her name. We more often see Ruth as a model of a good citizen, ready to help any and all so that the “family” remains strong, faithful, effective.
Perhaps this is where the functions of protecting the community from external enemies and keeping us all aware of the righteousness demanded by God should lie today. Failure of individuals to do so in such a context does not have the disastrous consequences as the fall of a leader. Abuses of leadership can be handled by the overall strengths and commitments of the group. God’s judgment—rather, God’s righteousness—will reign as his flawed creation moves toward reconciliation.
Terry C. Muck