August 15, 1999 | 9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

Looks (and Locks!) Can Be Deceiving

Deborah J. Kapp
McCormick Theological Seminary

Judges 16:15–31

Prayers of the People by Sarah Jo Sarchet

---

This is one of the Bible’s oldest stories, and it is full of references to times and practices we’ve long forgotten. So, before I read it, let me set the scene and update the characters, so we are all on the same page.

Time: about 3,000 years ago.

Place: Palestine, present-day Israel.

Politics: local skirmishes. The Israelites, who are newly arrived in the land, are trying to get a political and cultural foothold in the territory to which they believe God has led them. The particular skirmish that involves Samson is the same one that will involve Saul and David and Goliath a few generations later. The people of Israel, who live in the mountain communities running from the north to the south of the country, are fighting the Philistines, who live along the Mediterranean coast.

People: Besides the Philistine casts of thousands, there are three main characters in this part of the story. God, of course, is a main character. This is the Bible. But, as in many Old Testament stories, God stays pretty much in the background. Delilah is a second character. Delilah. Her name, according to the commentaries, means “flirtatious.” Samson is our protagonist. He is quite a guy. His story is the stuff of legend, and his attributes are almost superhuman. He is the world’s strongest man. He is a judge, a political and military leader in Israel. His life has been dedicated to God since before he was conceived. A sign of his dedication is his long hair, never cut, worn in locks. Samson is bigger than life, as the story goes. He is legendary. Unfortunately, so is his sexual appetite. In only four chapters, Samson is hooked up with three different women. So, strength and dreadlocks—think Ricky Williams, Mike Ditka’s first and only 1999 draft pick. Politics and sex—think Bill Clinton. Put them together and you have a kind of modern day Samson—someone really powerful and even brilliant in some ways, and very stupid in some others.

Our text opens in the middle of the story. The Philistines have bribed Delilah, Samson’s most recent love interest, to betray Samson into their hands. Three times she’s asked him the secret of his strength, and three times he’s lied to her. He is also really good at lying. We pick up the story there.

Then she said to him, “How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when your heart is not with me? You have mocked me three times now and have not told me what makes your strength so great.” Finally, after she had nagged him with her words day after day, and pestered him, he was tired to death. So he told her his whole secret, and said to her, “A razor has never come upon my head; for I have been a nazirite to God from my mother’s womb. If my head were shaved, then my strength would leave me; I would become weak, and be like anyone else.”

When Delilah realized that he had told her his whole secret, she sent and called the lords of the Philistines, saying, “This time come up, for he has told his whole secret to me.” Then the lords of the Philistines came up to her, and brought the money in their hands. She let him fall asleep on her lap; and she called a man, and had him shave off the seven locks of his head. He began to weaken, and his strength left him. The she said, “The Philistines are upon you, Samson!” When he awoke from his sleep, he thought, “I will go out as at other times, and shake myself free.” But he did not know that the Lord had left him. So the Philistines seized him and gouged out his eyes. They brought him down to Gaza and bound him with bronze shackles; and he ground at the mill in the prison. But the hair of his head began to grow again after it had been shaved.

Now the lords of the Philistines gathered to offer a great sacrifice to their god Dagon, and to rejoice; for they said, “Our god has given Samson our enemy into our hand.” When the people saw him, they praised their god; for they said, “Our god has given Samson our enemy into our hand, the ravager of our country, who has killed many of us.” And when their hearts were merry, they said, “Call Samson, and let him entertain us.” So they called Samson out of the prison, and he performed for them. They made him stand between the pillars; and Samson said to the attendant who held him by the hand, “Let me feel the pillars on which the house rests, so that I may lean against them.” Now the house was full of men and women; all the lords of the Philistines were there, and on the roof there were about three thousand men and women, who looked on while Samson performed.

Then Samson called to the Lord and said, “Lord God, remember me and strengthen me only this once, O God, so that with this one act of revenge I may pay back the Philistines for my two eyes.” And Samson grasped the two middle pillars on which the house rested, and he leaned his weight against them, his right hand on the one and his left hand on the other. Then Samson said, “Let me die with the Philistines.” He strained with all his might; and the house fell on the lords and all the people who were in it. So those he killed at his death were more than those he killed during his life. Then his brothers and all his family came down and took him and brought him up and buried him between Zorah and Eshtaol in the tomb of his father Manoah. He had judged Israel twenty years.” (Judges 16:15–31, NRSV)

I can’t resist the observation that this story puts a whole new twist on the phrase “a bad hair day.”

Why drag such an ancient story into the light of modern day? What is there about this text, apart from its rather juicy plot, that makes it worth our time and attention? It seems to me that there is something about Samson and his hair that is worth a closer look—not the dreadlocks themselves, but rather the fact that he never cut his hair—because Samson’s hairstyle was one way he worked out his relationship with God. Not cutting his hair was Samson’s way of praying, his way of going to church, his way of tutoring a child or helping someone, his way of staying connected to God. Samson grew his hair as an expression of his devotion to God. A razor had never come upon his head. So far, so good. The problem, though, and the reason we need to look at this story, was that somewhere along the line what was a perfectly good devotional practice for Samson became something else. It became a good luck charm, a kind of magical thinking that threw Samson’s relationship with God off-kilter and spelled his doom.

Scholars of religion argue that there are essential differences between religion and magic (see Max Weber, Sociology of Religion). Let me elaborate briefly. In magic, believers manipulate material things (like hair) in an attempt to charm God into doing what they want; in religion, believers worship God, and try to follow God’s will. Put simply, in magic, believers think they can control the course of events by manipulating God; the order of influence is first humans, second God, then subsequent events. In religion, believers think the order of influence is different. It is first God, second humans, then subsequent events.

We see outlines of magical thinking in Samson’s story and in his assumption that he was in charge. He thought he was strong because he grew his hair. And he used his strength to get what he wanted—attractive women, or revenge on people who had hurt him. It all revolved around his hair, a kind of magic charm for him through which he could control God.

Magical thinking, that tendency to think that we can manipulate things to get what we want or need, is an issue because it has not gone away. It creeps into my life, and possibly into yours as well. I brought a frivolous example with me this morning. This is my terrible towel. It is the good luck charm of Pittsburgh Steeler fans, and has been for about twenty years. This is how it works. When the Steelers are playing football, you use this towel. You wring it when the quarterback gets sacked. You put it in your mouth and bite it when they are fourth and one. You drape it over the TV. If enough of you do this, they win. Really. Twenty years ago, it worked almost every Sunday. You take a towel—any towel, this is, after all, a bunch of blue-collar fans who can’t afford expensive souvenirs—and wave it, wring it, drape it, and you have your charm. Fans first, players second.

Samson’s charm was his hair. “Samson, what is the secret of your strength?” asked Delilah. “A razor has never come upon my head,” he replied.

Let me ask you the same question. What is the secret of your strength, or your success? When asked that, some people, maybe even a few of us, will give a faithful answer, and say that we pray daily, or that we have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. We are successful, we imply, because we are faithful. The people who recently won the battle in the Kansas board of education believe this. Jesus will reward them when he comes again, a woman was quoted as saying, because they got evolution out of the public school curriculum. Most of us, though, would probably give more practical answers. We are successful, we might say, because we are well-educated, honest, and we work really hard. Any of these are fine answers to give when asked the secret of our strength or success. The implication of our answers is pretty consistent. We are successful because of what we do.

If we are not careful, this becomes almost a charmed, magical kind of thinking that puts us first and God second. If I pray devotedly, or if I tutor a child, or if I am honest and work hard, then I will inevitably be rewarded. This magical thinking is especially easy to slip into when we live pretty upright lives, as most of us do, and if we are fortunate in life. We begin to think that our good fortune is a reward for our integrity and our devotion. Terrible towels make more sense when the Steelers are winning. Samson, as long as he was strong, could connect his strength with his long, beautiful hair. And you and I, especially when things are going well, can begin to attribute our success and happiness to our own hard work or faithfulness alone. Some of this may be true, work and faithfulness make a difference, but it can tip over into magical thinking. Things like hard work or prayer can become contemporary charms, locating control and fate more in human hands than in divine hands. Sometimes this leaves God out of the equation, and ignores the fact that God is the one who made us capable of doing these things in the first place.

Let me be clear about what I am saying. I do not want to deny that moral rectitude has a good effect on human life and community. Living life with honor and integrity is good for each of us, and it is good for our world. It makes a huge difference, and it should be promoted at every turn. So, keep up the good work. You make the world a better place, and I thank you. I don’t want to imply anything different. The point I want to make is simply that good fortune and life’s blessings are not in our hands alone. We are not first in the order of influence of God and humans and fortune. We don’t control God’s blessings. When we begin to think we do, we become as blind and unknowing as Samson was to the true source of life’s goodness. “Samson, what is the secret of your strength?” asked Delilah. “A razor has never come upon my head,” he replied. Well, he got it wrong, and the Biblical author knew that. “Samson did not know that the Lord had left him,” the text says. Samson didn’t know a lot of things.

The Bible is very clear about the source of life’s goodness and blessing. It all comes from God. The Bible is also clear about God’s freedom to dispense goodness and blessing however God chooses. There is no controlling this God. Our faith is not a magical system, however connected our devoted practice and our good fortune appear to be. Do you know what demonstrates that best? What best demonstrates God’s freedom and generosity, God’s first place in the order of influence, is how God behaves when our devoted practice is dropped, or when our vows are broken, as they are in this story. If magical thinking really worked, broken vows and failed devotional practice would completely disconnect people from God. But they don’t.

Samson’s story, at every turn, is the story of broken vows. We see only one aspect of this in our text, as Samson set himself up for a hair-cut. But in the chapters that precede this text, he broke other parts of his vow. The Bible presents Samson as a man who couldn’t keep a promise, someone always falling short of the vows he made to God. Samson’s in good company, right? Lots of us make vows to God we fail to keep.

Recently I attended a regional church business meeting at which an amazing thing occurred. In front of about three hundred local clergy and lay leaders, a local pastor was publicly rebuked for sexual misconduct. In over twenty years of ministry and regular attendance at meetings like these, I have never seen this happen. There has been plenty of sexual misconduct among clergy, but I have never seen anyone publicly rebuked for it. After the rebuke had been made, he asked to speak to us. He confessed and asked forgiveness for the vows he had broken with his accuser, his wife and family, his congregation, and the wider church. It was an honest and courageous statement that affected people deeply. I think it affected us deeply, because probably everyone in that room knows what is like to make promises that we don’t keep. We haven’t all done what this guy did, but none of us has led a perfect life. None of us keeps every promise we make, not even our promises to God.

This is just part of who we are, as human beings. We want to do well. We genuinely hope and plan to. But it doesn’t always work. In our careers, in our private lives, in our life with God we fall short.

If our faith were a magical system, and we were first in the order of influence, we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. But we are not talking magic here. Our actions decide neither God’s presence and generosity nor God’s absence and punishment. God decides. God’s decision, mysterious as it is, is to remain devoted to people who fail with some frequency. God did force Samson to live with the human consequences of his behavior, I admit, but in the end God stayed connected to Samson and continued to use Samson as a servant. The same is true for this minister of whom I spoke. The same is true for us. We live with the human consequences of our behavior, yet God loves us still and will not let us go. In our success and in our failure, in our devotion and in our lack thereof, God works in and through our lives to stay connected to us and to achieve God’s purposes, whatever they may be.

Like Samson, and like the apostle Paul, we are perhaps most aware of this in our failure and in our weakness. It is then, when we can’t credit ourselves with achieving anything, that we understand the depth of God’s goodness, power, and faithfulness in our lives.

There is a moral to Samson’s story: Don’t let a bad hair day get you down. Really. Accomplishing what matters most in life is not about you, or how you look, or even what you do. It isn’t about me, either. When it comes to what is ultimately important in life, you are not in control, any more than I am, or than Samson was. There are no magic charms. God is in control, and God is faithful and loving, as God was in the beginning and as God ever shall be, world without end. Maybe, just maybe, it is on our metaphorical bad hair days that we are closest to knowing that truth.

Amen.

 

Prayers of the People
By Sarah Jo Sarchet, Associate Pastor

Beloved God,
How reassuring it is to know that we can come
to You who are the source of our lives.
How reassuring it is to know that we can come
honestly and faithfully,
leaving behind our recipes for achievement,
our formulas for success,
our good luck charms.
How reassuring it is to know that You call us and claim us
and will not shut us out or send us away or run from us
or rebuke us or speak a word without mercy.
How reassuring it is to know that if our sin and self centeredness
make us untouchable, You will reach out and touch us.
How reassuring it is to know that Your life is more powerful than death.
that Your grace is greater than we could ever expect or imagine.
that Your strength makes itself known in our weakness,
and it is in those weak places that we can know You best.
How reassuring it is to know that You call us to be
no more and no less than Your children.

Beloved God,
You are the God who lays hands on the diseased and the distressed.
We and those we know are under the bondage of so many demons,
sometimes it’s impossible to name them or understand their hold.
For some of us the demon is poverty,
while for others of us we are bound by our wealth.
Some of us are invaded by pride,
and others by humility.
Some of us are confined by illness,
others of us by our strength.
The demons possess us.
They fill our thoughts and guide our actions.
They own us at times, and we live in fear.

Free us, burst our chains and set us at liberty
that we would find power to serve You and find our strength in You.

Beloved God,
We come this day with many prayers in our hearts and in our minds and in our souls.
Prayers for ourselves,
prayers for one another,
prayers for those we love,
and prayers for the world we love.

In these moments we pray the silent prayers of our hearts
offering to You the people and places that cause us concern. . . .

Beloved God,
How good it is to know that in our silence You know us best.
How good it is to know that Your Holy Spirit intercedes for us
with sighs too deep for words
when we can but whisper our pain.
We trust Your grace with great hope, anticipating and claiming Your mercy.
In Jesus Christ You visited the most untouchable of people,
the most unclean of society.
You healed their wounded spirits and diseased bodies,
and You marveled at their faith.
Lord, we recognize You in our midst as You heal our spirits and bodies.
May we too marvel in faith.

These things we pray with confidence as the children of God
using the words Jesus gave us to say. . .

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church