Ethics or Frank Miller’s The Book of Judges

 B y all rights, the book of Judges should be a victory lap. Israel has acquired everything God talked about, but without a leader like Moses or Joshua to chauffeur them around like Hoke Colburn, things come unraveled almost immediately. In the wake of Joshua’s death, they drop the Donny Donowitz routine and allow the surviving Canaanites to hang around (see 1:27-35). Even worse, they can’t resist a teen idol and Canaan is loaded with them. Soon every Israelite bedroom is decorated with posters of Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez and Demi Lavato. Chapter 2 begins with God revoking their Call of Duty cheat codes and dispatching a case officer to inform them that their shot at a peaceful existence just got nuked (vv. 1-3). That’s right. Israel doesn’t live happily ever after. In fact, it only takes one generation for them to turn the Promised Land into a Mega-City One dystopia.

Israel’s habit of going up against God kicks off a cycle more repetitive than Dr. Strange’s encounter(s) with Dormammu. They screw up. God writes them off. They get desperate. God bails them out. They screw up again. As repeat offenders go, Israel makes H.I. McDunnough look reformed (see Judg. 2:11:15, 19-22; 3:5-8, 12-14; 4:1-3; 6:1-6; 8:33-35; 10:6-9; 13:1). It would appear they’ve forgotten everything God outlined back in Leviticus 26. But every time it looks like Israel is about to become a footnote in history, God steps in at the last minute to select an enforcer to play Judge Judy and executioner (v. 18). Interestingly, Moses and Joshua’s kids are never mentioned. None of the obvious choices are considered. Instead, God takes the Amanda Waller approach by enlisting unlikely candidates from the rogues’ gallery at Belle Reve Penitentiary. He picks the youngest, the outcast, the disabled and even a few chicks to bring Israel back from the brink. Despite its title, Judges isn’t a courtroom drama. These men and women are closer to Judge Dredd than Judge Joe Brown.

Scripture chronicles the series of unfortunate events with NC-17 candor. One of the first judges it introduces is a one-armed man named Ehud. According to chapter 3, he’s tasked with rescuing Israel from the Moabites (v. 15). Like John J. Macreedy, Ehud doesn’t let his disability hold him back. He scores a private audience with Moab’s leader, King Eglon, and uses the opportunity to play Agent 47. Since Eglon tips the scales harder than Mr. Creosote, the only weapon Ehud really needs is a thin mint. But after 18 years of oppression, he decides revenge should come at the tip of a Hattori Hanzō sword. Luckily, Moab hasn’t instated a stop and frisk law yet, so he’s able to sneak the sword past security and stick the whole thing, hilt and all, into the king-sized king (v. 22). Scripture doesn’t mince words. It says Eglon shits himself and dies. His attendants return to find the doors locked and assume he’s on the porcelain throne when they smell his final decree (v. 24). By the time they realize he’s dead, Ehud has slipped out the back and rallied the Israelite army for a surprise attack (vv. 26-29). The plan works. Israel turns the tables on Moab and regains its freedom.

But the trend continues in chapter 4 when Israel dumps God again and ends up breaking rocks for the Canaanites for 20 years. Enter Israel’s next leader, Deborah. That’s right. It’s a girl. The Hebrew text hails her as a fiery woman, because, apparently, she can handle a flamethrower better than Ellen Ripley (v. 4). Looks like ancient Israel forgot to install that glass ceiling. Not only do Israelite men not have a problem with taking orders from a woman, they won’t go into battle without her. When the guy she picks to lead them against General Sisera and the Canaanite army hesitates, Deborah lets down her hair and marches into No Man’s Land like Wonder Woman (vv. 8, 9). It’s a ballsy move. They’re completely outgunned and Sisera is a regular Miles Quaritch on the battlefield, but Israel still scores a first round knockout when God conjures up some whatevermancy on their behalf (v. 15). When Sisera sees his army on the ropes he slips away and hides out with a woman named Jael. Her June Cleaver hospitality lures him in and the warm milk and cookies she serves convinces him to stay (vv. 17-19). But as soon as he thinks it’s safe to catch a few z’s, she breaks out her Van Helsing quick-start kit and hammers a spike through his skull with more prejudice than Buffy Summers (v. 21). It’s a good day for Israel and women in general. Deborah commemorates it in chapter 5 by belting out a celebratory tune. Like Katy Perry, you’re gonna hear her roar.

Chapter 6 opens with Deborah’s song still charting on Billboard’s Hot 100, but Israel is already in the soup again. There’s no need to hire Joey Greco. Everyone knows they’re cheaters. Thanks to their commitment issues, Israel’s relationship with God is more on again off again than Elaine Benes and David Puddy. Trouble is they nearly get exterminated after every break up. This time Midian shows up swinging its iron fist harder than Danny Rand. They force Israel to retreat into the mountains, where they live in caves on the brink of starvation (vv. 2-5). This goes on for seven years before God recruits a guy named Gideon to play universal soldier.

Gideon is another unlikely hero. He lives in Israel’s 8 Mile district and is quick to inform God that he’s too young and poor to do the job (v. 15). Gideon finds the request so laughable he’s convinced there’s a hidden camera on the premises. He even requests a sign to prove he’s not being punk’d by Ashton Kutcher (v. 17). God has to resort to paranormal activity to win him over. No sooner does Gideon accept the position than Midian cranks up the war machine. Defeat is more immanent than an Olympiad face-off with Camp Mohawk. It just doesn’t matter. With nothing to lose, Gideon assembles 32,000 soldiers by channeling his inner Tripper Harrison.

Israel is already outnumbered, but chapter 7 begins with God telling Gideon to reduce the size of the army: “The people who are with you are too many for Me to give Midian into their hands” (v. 2). According to Scripture, God doesn’t want Israel patting itself on the back just because it blows up one TIE Fighter. As Han Solo would say, “Great, kid! Don’t get cocky.” God instructs Gideon to excuse everyone who is “afraid and trembling” and 22,000 guys immediately chicken out (v. 3). But there’s still too many, so God devises an unusual selection process that narrows them down to a paltry 300 men (vv. 5-7). Gideon is about to go full-on King Leonidas. Say it with me: “This. Is. Sparta!” That night, they spy on Midian’s camp, where they find the soldiers more anxious than Steve McCroskey. It looks like Midian picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue. Gideon capitalizes on their frayed nerves by placing men around the camp in a Jericho-esque strategy that sees them scaring off the entire army with little more than trumpet blasts and shouting (vv. 20-22).

After a successful run as Israel’s leader, the people ask Gideon to be president for life in chapter 8, but he doesn’t bite: “I will not rule over you … [God] shall rule over you” (v. 23). To emphasize the point, he makes a monument so they won’t forget what God did for them. Then he retires and spends the rest of his life on Mt. Hump. The text confirms this when it says he has seventy sons (v. 30). It appears that kids come cheaper by the dozen in Gideon’s house. Eat your heart out, Tom Baker! The bad news is most of his accomplishments die with him. In an ironic twist, Israel starts worshipping the very monument he built to remind them of God (v. 27). And, according to chapter 9, his son Abimelech goes rogue and murders all but one of his 70 brothers (v. 5). Yep. Somebody’s been watching too much Game of Thrones. Gideon’s legacy is practically eradicated overnight. Abimelech goes on to have a contentious reign that ends on the battlefield when “a certain woman” drops a rock on his head (v. 53). Turns out, the book of Judges is full of women getting their G.I. Jane on. This unnamed female soldier—we’ll call her Jordan O’Neil—has Abimelech begging his armor-bearer for a mercy kill so it won’t be said that a woman got the better of him. Apparently, he doesn’t know that you can’t outrun a Nelson Muntz laugh.

By the time chapter 11 rolls around, it’s clear God’s patience is wearing thin. The leaders he uses don’t appear as well vetting as before. Enter Jephthah. The Hebrew text calls him the son of a strange woman, which isn’t meant to describe her Phoebe Buffay quirkiness but rather her profession as a prostitute (v. 1). By default, this makes Jephthah an outsider in his family. His siblings even band together to run him out of town. But when Ammon declares war on Israel, they’re quick to invite him back to lead the charge. As it turns out, Jephthah is a regular Tony Soprano, known for his questionable associates and reputation for, uh, taking out the trash. For Jephthah, it’s the invitation of a lifetime. He can’t resist the chance to go home and shed his Mike Donnelly black sheep credentials. But in his eagerness to win, he initiates a stupid “if you do this for me, I’ll do that for you” deal with God, vowing that whatever greets him upon his return “shall be [God’s]” (vv. 30, 31). This backfires worse than one of Elliot Richard’s seven wishes when his daughter is first to greet him when he returns from battle. The English-language translation rewards readers with a bloody finale that sees Jephthah go Mola Ram on his daughter, removing her still beating heart before giving her the extra crispy treatment. But the original Hebrew indicates the only thing Jephthah’s daughter loses is the opportunity to ever get laid: “[He] did to her according to the vow … and she had no relations with a man” (v. 39). The indication is she’s committed to the service of God, not baked at 450°. The downer story ends with an annual girls’ weekend to lament with her (v. 40). It’s basically Scripture’s version of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, only, you know, not funny.

But when it comes to questionable leaders, the book of Judges saves the worst for last with Samson. In chapter 13, Israel is still sneaking around on God with more regularity than Mark King, which leads to them being overthrown by the Philistines. Israel doesn’t know it yet, but they’ve just met their arch-nemesis. The Philistines are like Lex Luthor, Darkseid and Doomsday all rolled into one. They stick it to Israel for 40 years before God answers the red phone, but even then he doesn’t rush the process. He takes time to develop a legitimate superhero to confront the villain. But if you’re expecting a goody two-shoes like Steve Rogers, prepare to be disappointed. The era of a staff-wielding Gandalf is over. The time has come for Harry Callahan.

Samson’s origin notably begins with another standout female character: his mom. Like so many of the scriptural matriarchs before her, she’s as barren as Bethany Sloane when God dispatches Metatron to tell her she’s about to have a kid—a boy she’s instructed to raise as a Nazirite (v. 5). This means he’ll have to avoid liquor stores, barber shops and the morgue for life (see Num. 6:1-6). She tells her husband, Manoah, the news, but apparently his wife’s word isn’t good enough and, in true Al Bundy form, he requests Metatron’s return without ever taking his hand out of his pants. In response, the angel visits Samson’s mom again, verifying who really wears the pants in the family. She has to go get Manoah off the couch so that the angel can tell him to do everything he already told her (v. 13). Manoah is too dim to figure out he’s talking to an otherworldly being, so when the angel exits the scene like Chato Santana he freaks out: “We will surely die, for we have seen God” (v. 22). His wife is quick to point out the flaw in his logic, once again confirming why God picked her in the first place (v. 23). Looks like James Brown was right. This is a man’s world, but it wouldn’t be nothing without a woman or a girl.

The text skips Samson’s formative years and, in chapter 14, immediately introduces us to a girl-crazy strongman with Fabio hair. In fact, the first time we see him he’s hanging out on the wrong side of the tracks putting the moves on a Philistine chick (v. 1). He even puts his parents in the awkward position of arranging a marriage. As the story goes, he’s on his way to see his fiancée when he encounters a lion that goes all The Ghost and the Darkness on him (v. 5). And while most guys would cut and run in the name of self-preservation, Samson kills it with his bare hands like Hercules and still makes it to his date on time (v. 6)! Even Samson can’t believe what he’s pulled off. He goes back later to admire his handiwork and finds the dead lion swarming with bees. Then, in what can only be described as a Fear Factor stunt, he takes some honey from its carcass to snack on (vv. 8, 9). He doesn’t even need Joe Rogan to egg him on.

On his wedding day, Samson uses his experience with the lion to challenge the Philistine guests to a duel of wits: “Out of the eater came something to eat, [a]nd out of the strong came something sweet” (v. 14). The riddle makes Edward Nigma look like a rank amateur, but the Philistines take the bet anyway. If they can solve it in seven days, Samson will owe them all new clothes. But when they can’t figure it out, they convince his new bride to go home and play Alicia Huberman until he reveals the answer. It works. He spills the beans and she reports back to her countrymen who smugly present the solution at the eleventh hour (v. 17). Samson responds like any good 1980’s action hero. First, he delivers a bad one-liner: “If you had not plowed with my heifer, you would not have found out my riddle” (v. 18). Then he goes on a rampage not even Davis Okoye can prevent, single-handedly killing thirty Philistines for their clothes in order to pay off the ones who cheated him. This is what happens when you initiate a game of chicken with Samson: you end up wearing your neighbor’s khakis.

The situation gets worse in chapter 15 when Samson goes to make up with his wife only to find out she’s gotten remarried behind his back. But instead of confronting her, he takes out his frustration on the Philistines for allowing it to happen. Using his Beastmaster skills, he rustles up 300 foxes, straps torches to their asses and releases them where they’ll do the most damage to the food supply (vv. 4, 5). CSI: Philistia track the paw prints back to Samson, but his motive leads them to execute his wife and father-in-law instead (v. 6). Their Vice City tactics has Samson doubling back for round two. He’s not upset because they killed his wife. He’s upset because they waited to do it (v. 7). At this point, he’s picking fights with less provocation than Francis Begbie. The Philistines retaliate by threatening war and Israel has no choice but to hand Samson over. After some tense negotiations, he’s restrained and led away with more security than Garland Greene. Lucky for Samson, the Philistines make a classic bad guy mistake: they gloat. This gives him time to flex his muscles (v. 14). The Philistines are still busy listing all of the bad stuff they’re gonna do to him when he breaks free and goes John Carter on them. Seriously. The text says he takes out a thousand guys with the jawbone of a donkey (v. 15).

Samson dials it back a notch in chapter 16, but as far as the Philistines are concerned he’s still public enemy number one. He can’t go anywhere without them trying to catch him. In Gaza, he cruises the strip in his Lotus Esprit, where he bumps into Vivian Ward. They go back to her place, but Scripture yada yada yada’s over the best part. When local officials hear he’s bedded down in the red-light district they set out to trap him. Their plan looks good on paper, but once Samson gets his rocks off he just rolls out of bed, tears the city gates out of the ground and leaves uncontested (v. 3). I’m starting to think hero might not be the right description. With Samson, it’s more of a “who watches the Watchmen?” scenario.

Samson follows up his one-night stand by getting serious with a Philistine chick named Delilah. His interest in her appears legit, but Delilah is a regular Fiona Volpe. When Philistine authorities approach her about uncovering the source of Samson’s strength, she immediately goes to work (vv. 5, 6). Samson knows she’s up to something, but doesn’t seem to mind that she keeps Catherine Tramell’s ice pick under her bed. Delilah questions him non-stop about where his power comes from, but he keeps her guessing with a series of false confessions, like phlebotinum injections, eating Crumply Crunch for breakfast every morning and shouting “By the power of Grayskull!” But every time Delilah thinks he’s exposed his weakness and calls in the troops, she spends the rest of the afternoon sweeping their teeth out of her house. This scenario repeats itself until she finally wears Samson down and he reveals his Nazirite vows, namely that he’s never cut his hair (v. 17). As Ace Ventura would say, “Nobody messes with the ’do!” Sensing she’s finally gotten the truth out of him, Delilah lulls Samson to sleep and invites over Floyd Lawson to take a little off the top (v. 19). This time when the Philistines show up, they overpower him, because, according to Scripture, “[God] had departed from him” (v. 20). By the time Samson realizes God has disconnected the Venom pump, it’s too late. The Philistines gouge out his eyes and force him to slave away at the Wheel of Pain like Conan the Barbarian (v. 21).