Jephthah's Daughter

Fr. Paul Steffan, (RIP) a wonderful friar, taught public speaking while I was in high school.  One of the techniques he used in the debate club to help us think broadly and openly was to have us argue for and against every topic we encountered.  Last week, as our Congress debated endlessly about our federal budget, I wished Paul could have had a few minutes to suggest this technique to the leaders of both political parties.  Putting ourselves in the shoes of our opponents is not only good debating technique, it reminds us of Jesus' command to, "Do to others as you would have them do to you." Luke 6:31

Why this opening to a scripture reflection?  Because I think Fr. Paul’s advice would have helped Jephthah in the book of Judges. (Judges 11: 29-391) Today’s text tells us that Jephthah vowed to God, if he was successful in battle against the Ammonites, to sacrifice the first thing he saw when he returned home after the battle.  When Jephthah arrives home, he sees his only daughter dancing in joy because of her father's success. Though heartbroken, Jephthah felt like had no choice.  A promise is a promise, after all.  He would have to sacrifice his daughter!

Though the book of judges never says what Jephthah does, the rabbinic commentary for the first millennium was clear. Jephthah had to sacrifice his only child.  Only later, a thousand years later, did the rabbis ask: Why didn’t Jephthah know that human sacrifice was expressly forbidden by the Torah and seek an alternate solution? (Lev 18:21)   And why didn’t Jephthah’s rabbi remind him of the law?   

In a fascinating Midrash,(1) the rabbi’s of the 11^th century suggested that both Jephthah and his rabbi were both too proud to speak with one another.  Jephthah says: I am a conquering hero, why should I consult a rabbi. I can talk directly with God. And Phineas, the name given to Jephthah’s rabbi says: Why should I share the wisdom of Torah with someone so uncultured and unlearned?  Clinging to a power that belongs only to God condemns both men.

Are you thinking the same thing as me?  How often my rigidity and need to be right makes it impossible for me to let go of my own righteousness and arrogance?  How foolish of me not to listen to others and seek counsel?  Are you guilty of the same fault? Are we as a nation and a church so committed to being right that we fail to hear the views and passion of others?