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Context No. 2382 of 4322 · Judges

Context · Reflection

Judges 12:1-6: in context

1The men of Ephraim were gathered together, and passed northward; and they said to Jephthah, “Why did you pass over to fight against the children of Ammon, and didn’t call us to go with you? We will burn your house around you with fire!” 2Jephthah said to them, “I and my people were at great strife with the children of Ammon; and when I called you, you didn’t save me out of their hand. 3When I saw that you didn’t save me, I put my life in my hand, and passed over against the children of Ammon, and the LORD delivered them into my hand. Why then have you come up to me today, to fight against me?” 4Then Jephthah gathered together all the men of Gilead, and fought with Ephraim. The men of Gilead struck Ephraim, because they said, “You are fugitives of Ephraim, you Gileadites, in the middle of Ephraim, and in the middle of Manasseh.” 5The Gileadites took the fords of the Jordan against the Ephraimites. Whenever a fugitive of Ephraim said, “Let me go over,” the men of Gilead said to him, “Are you an Ephraimite?” If he said, “No;” 6then they said to him, “Now say ‘Shibboleth;’” and he said “Sibboleth”; for he couldn’t manage to pronounce it correctly, then they seized him and killed him at the fords of the Jordan. At that time, forty-two thousand of Ephraim fell.

Judges shows the ugliness that can follow even a victory. Jephthah has just defeated Ammon, and the tribe of Ephraim comes not to celebrate but to pick a fight: why didn't you call us? They threaten to burn his house down. The quarrel escalates into civil war between Gilead and Ephraim, and it ends at the Jordan fords, where a man's life hangs on whether he can pronounce one word, Shibboleth. Forty-two thousand of Ephraim fall.

The wound underneath is bruised pride, the feeling of being left out of something that went well. Ephraim would rather burn a brother than sit out a win they were not part of, and the sound of a single mispronounced syllable becomes a death sentence. It is a grim picture of God's own people turning their strength against each other over slighted ego. Nothing about it was inevitable; it grows entirely out of the refusal to let someone else's victory be enough.

When something good happens without me, does slighted pride make me resent the people who did it?

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