Judges 11:30Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

It is thus recorded: Jephthah made a vow to the Lord, stating, "If you deliver the Ammonites into my hands, when I return peacefully from them, whatever comes out of the gate of my house to greet me shall belong to the Lord, and I will offer it as a burnt offering." In making this vow, Jephthah did not refer to any livestock that he could offer as a burnt offering according to the law. Additionally, it was not customary for victorious commanders returning from battle to be greeted by animals. While dogs, which are silent creatures, often rush out to welcome their masters, Jephthah did not have dogs in mind; such a vow would not only be unlawful but also regarded as contemptible and impure by the law. A sacrifice of that nature would have been offensive to the Lord.

Individuals tend to emulate those who perform righteous deeds, not out of genuine affection for those actions, but rather for their personal gain. The monarch of Moab became aware of Jephthah's message (See 2 Kings 3:26-27). However, the Lord extended mercy to him because he offered up his firstborn son, driven by desperation rather than love. In Jephthah's situation, had he encountered one of his servants first, he would have taken that life. To prevent the people from sacrificing their kin, he instructed that his daughter come to greet him, so that others who might make vows to the Lord would be cautious about the consequences for their community.

Jovinian applauds Jephthah's father's unwavering commitment to his promise, prioritizing it over the sorrow of his daughter, which aligns with our perspective. We emphasize the importance of purity for Christ rather than promoting the worldly idea of virginity. Many Jews criticize the father for his impulsive vow: "If thou deliver the Ammonites into my hands, then upon my return with peace from the Ammonites, what shall come out of the gate of my house to meet me shall be to the Lord, and I will offer this for a burnt offering." They argue that if it were a dog or a donkey, what would he have done? Their belief is that God orchestrated the events so that the one who made the hasty promise would come to recognize his error through the tragic fate of his daughter.

At times, actions taken may be contrary to one's moral obligations, especially when it involves fulfilling a vow or an oath. For instance, Herod, having sworn to grant his daughter Herodias any request she made, permitted the execution of John the Baptist to keep his word. In a similar vein, we find the example of Jephthah, who, upon his triumphant return, sacrificed his daughter—the first person to greet him—as part of a promise he made to God to offer the first living being he encountered. It would have been far wiser for him to refrain from making such a vow than to achieve its fulfillment through the tragic loss of his child.

Why did the Lord allow the daughter of Jephthah to be sacrificed? The pledge made by Jephthah was exceedingly unreasonable. It was likely that he would encounter a dog or a donkey, animals deemed unclean by the law. Thus, the Almighty, instructing others through Jephthah to make vows wisely and with discernment, chose not to intervene in this tragic outcome. The Lord's disapproval of such sacrifices is affirmed by the blessed David, who cries out: “And they devoured their sons and their daughters with devils. And they shed innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, which they burnt to the statues of Canaan, and the land was killed with their blood” (Psalm 105:37-38).

The vow of Jephthah in Sacred Scripture presents a unique situation. A deeply devoted father, to his profound dismay, pronounces a death sentence on his only child. Understanding the sanctity of oaths, he feels he cannot retract his solemn promise; instead, he honors it as a fulfillment of divine will. Should we reflect on the ways of Providence, which has marvelously steered human fate for higher purposes, or should we be taken aback by the folly of the father? Do we see here the trials of living faith, or do we lament over misguided superstition? Is it appropriate to criticize the harsh laws that permitted the shedding of innocent blood as an offering to the God of peace, or should we seek justification for them by exploring their ancient roots or revealing deeper spiritual meanings?