Did Jephthah sacrifice his daughter - the answer
11:35 Jephthah’s reaction in verse 35 indicates that he has not been expecting his daughter to be the first one to greet him. When Jephthah sees his daughter, he expresses his anguish in the typical Jewish fashion by tearing his clothing, acting like a man grieving the loss of his only child. Marcus, arguing that Jephthah is delivering his daughter to perpetual celibacy, asserts that Jephthah is actually grieving the loss of his family line. Many commentators follow suit. However, modern interpreters who argue for the end of Jephthah’s line fail to acknowledge that lineage is not passed through daughters. The most Jephthah could have then been grieving would be the loss of grandchildren and his daughter’s unhappiness, but not the loss of his lineage. If this is so, rending his clothes seems a vast overreaction.24
Jephthah tells his daughter that her arrival has made him miserable and wretched. The literal translation of the Hebrew is more emphatic. Jephthah tells his daughter, “Oh, my daughter! You have forced me to my knees and you are my agony!” Jephthah’s love for his daughter will be the source of his suffering.
Jephthah’s daughter has become a source of pain to Jephthah because he has made a vow that he cannot retract. The Hebrew makes a wordplay at this point. Jephthah says that he has opened his mouth to the LORD: פָּצִיתִי־פִי (pāṣîthî-phî). Jephthah’s name, יִפְתָּח (yiphthāḥ), comes from the root פָּתַח (pāthaḥ), meaning “He [God] opens.”25 The verb is usually linked to the opening of the mouth.26 Jephthah, “God Opens,” has opened his mouth to the detriment of his own family. The sense of the narrative is “If only He Opens had not opened his mouth!”
11:36 Strangely, Jephthah’s daughter supports his intention to fulfill his vow. She, too, attributes her father’s victory to Yahweh and will willingly participate in the sacrifice. The reason for her willingness is uncertain. Reis suggests that Jephthah’s daughter is not a victim, but a presumptuous and rebellious teen who, aware of her father’s vow, deliberately interjects herself into the situation. Reis suggests that Jephthah intended to vow and redeem one of his servants for the LORD and that Jephthah’s daughter deliberately interferes. Jephthah’s daughter would then be a young teen with a sense of drama who wants to be immortalized, which she achieves with the annual festival in her honor.
11:37–38 The only request Jephthah’s daughter makes is that she be allowed to mourn her fate with her friends for two months. The time away in the mountains around Mizpah is a “time to be filled with lamentation, not for death, but for unfulfilled life.”28 The text later emphasizes her virginity (11:39), leaving Jephthah’s daughter bereft of every young woman’s hope at the time: husband and family.
11:39a The author’s summary of Jephthah’s fulfillment of the vow is vague. Jephthah is described as doing to her as he had vowed. The narrator’s omniscient perspective in Judges 11:29–40 often seems to shroud details and obscure information, as two millennia of debate over the interpretation of this passage have aptly demonstrated. The narrator provides no insight into the specific activity of the Spirit of the LORD’s coming on Jephthah—no miraculous activity is seen on Jephthah’s part. Further, the language of the vow leaves its details open to confusion. Perhaps the biggest ambiguity in the passage is the exact nature of the vow fulfillment. Ehud’s bowel-spilling endeavors and the Levite’s dismembering of his concubine are presented in gory detail. Why the ambiguity here? Olson insightfully suggests,
The effect of the ambivalence is to heighten suspense, to draw the reader into wrestling with the moral dilemmas and ambiguities of the story, and to increase the sense of horror at a possibility so repulsive that it is not described but left only as an imagined potentiality. This central ambiguity of the entire story—whether Jephthah killed his daughter or not—reflects the overall ambiguity of Jephthah’s [foolishness].
Several inclusions and clarifications omitted from the text would also have proven useful.
- In what activity is the Spirit of the LORD involved?
- Is Jephthah intending a human sacrifice?
- Does Jephthah’s daughter know about the vow?
- Is the commemoration ceremony Jewish or Canaanite in nature?
The biggest question surrounding the passage regards the nature of the vow’s fulfillment. Does he or doesn’t he? Jephthah makes a vow to sacrifice “whatever comes out of the door” of his house to greet him should he return successfully from battle. His daughter greets him, and the text concludes with the vague statement that Jephthah “did to her as he had vowed.”
The difficulty over interpretation stems from the lack of certainty about the exact nature and fulfillment of Jephthah’s vow. Suggestions for resolution are many, although two in particular dominate the discussion.
- The simplest reading of the text indicates that Jephthah fulfills his vow by sacrificing his daughter. If this is true, then reconciling the Judges 11 account with Hebrews 11:32 where Jephthah is presented as a definitive example of faith becomes difficult.
- Another option is that Jephthah does not sacrifice his daughter at all, but instead forbids her to marry, dedicating her to a life of celibacy. Below is a summary of some of the most popular arguments for both positions.
Arguments that Jephthah Sacrifices His Daughter
Response. This interpretation is the plainest reading of the text. The text is deliberately ambiguous. ‘ôlāh has no other meaning than a literal burnt offering.
Jephthah intends a burnt offering for an animal OR a dedication for human being. The text was understood as describing a literal sacrifice until the Middle Ages. An early interpretation is not necessarily correct.
Jephthah’s reaction to his daughter demonstrates his sorrow over his vow. Jephthah is mourning the loss of his line and descendants, not his daughter’s sacrifice.
The text heavily emphasizes that Jephthah has only one child. Jephthah’s vow leaves him with no children to carry on his line. In the Old Testament, tearing clothes usually symbolizes grief over death or impending death.
Tearing clothes may symbolize grief over the end of a line (1 Kgs 21:20–29). There are many ancient stories similar to the Jephthah account in which a hero’s daughter is tragically sacrificed.
Myth is a poor standard through which to evaluate Scripture. Connection between Jephthah’s daughter and Isaac; both are only children, only with Jephthah’s daughter, there is no angel to intervene. This is conjecture; the text nowhere makes an overt connection between Judges 11 and Genesis 22. Human sacrifice is unthinkable for the Hebrews (Deut 12:31). Gen 22:2; 2 Kgs 3:27
Human sacrifice is forbidden by the Law of Moses. Jephthah is demonstrably ignorant of or indifferent to the Law. Jephthah’s daughter is too willing to submit to being sacrificed. The daughter may be as foolish as her father.
The Spirit of the LORD is on Jephthah, and so he is incapable of disobeying God’s law. The Spirit of the LORD is not a permanent manifestation and assisted in accomplishing feats, not righteousness; see the life of Samson.
God apparently approves Jephthah’s vow by delivering victory over the Ammonites. The text makes no mention of God’s response to Jephthah; God’s activity is not mentioned again in the life of Jephthah.
The text nowhere condemns Jephthah’s actions. Nor does it condemn Samson’s or the Levite’s in Judges 19; a lack of condemnation does not emonstrate the presence of morality.
11:39 adds the phrase, “And she was a virgin,” suggesting that she remained that way.Jephthah’s daughter’s virginity is linked in the text to the festival that grew up in her memory, not to her sacrifice. The Israelites would have reacted strongly against human sacrifice. Perhaps Ephraim’s complaint against Jephthah in chapter 12 is a smokescreen to do just that.
The debate about how Jephthah actually fulfilled his vow dates back to the twelfth century A.D., when it was first suggested that Jephthah shut his daughter up in a house, forcing on her a celibate life. Earlier Christian and Jewish sources all attested to literal human sacrifice. Richard Rogers acknowledges the virginity-sacrifice debate in the seventeenth century, and responds that a vow of virginity is unheard of in Scripture (no doubt betraying his Protestant paradigm). Rogers also mentions argument of the limitations of the definition of ‘ôlāh, as well as the focus of the text on Jephthah’s daughter being an only child.
Human sacrifice is uncommon in Iron Age Israel, but not unknown.Soggin bluntly says, “Here we have one of the very rare cases of human sacrifice attested in the Old Testament, which not only is not censured in any way, but is even considered necessary as the fulfillment of a vow.” Israel would have had the burnt offering of human sacrifice embedded in their very identity, with the sacrifice of Isaac in Genesis 22. The echo narrative on the part of the author is difficult to miss: both Isaac and Jephthah’s daughter are the only children of their parents. The difference in Isaac’s case is, the sacrifice is initiated by God, and God ultimately intervenes.
Some have argued that Jephthah is an upright servant of God who could not have performed human sacrifice. Jephthah’s character actually does allow him to fulfill this vow. He kills 42,000 of his own countrymen, after all.35 Although Leviticus 18:21 and 20:2 prohibit human sacrifice, Jephthah’s awareness of and compliance with the law are a separate issue (to be discussed below).
Extrabiblical sources also contain multiple references to a father’s sacrifice of his daughter. It is often supposed that the story of Jephthah’s vow is purely etiological, a tale originally told to rationalize a defunct lamentation festival (vs. 40). There is a number of parallels to the tragic sacrifice of the hero’s daughter in comparative folklore, and so the question of the shaping of the record must remain an open one. That there is no other trace of such a “festival” suggests that the tale is told for other than etiological purpose. It heightens the tragic dimension of the story of Jephthah.…
It should be noted that the presence of mythological parallels do not necessarily negate the historicity of the Judges account.
One interesting argument against literal sacrifice is the anticipated reaction of Jephthah’s fellow Israelites who would have strongly resisted and opposed human sacrifice. Goslinga notes that in 1 Samuel 14:45 the people resist Saul’s attempt to kill Jonathan in fulfillment of his oath. Judges 20 demonstrates what Israelites opposed to human sacrifice are prepared to do. The people’s strong reaction to the Levite who dismembers his concubine might also be considered as an example of what could happen to someone who acts outside the bounds of appropriate Israelite law and culture. Would not the people of Israel react violently against human sacrifice? Perhaps they do. Interestingly, chapter 12 begins in much the same way as chapter 20—with a group of Israelites assembled to punish someone who commits a heinous act. In Judges 20, the Levite has not only dismembered his concubine, but he has proactively advertised his actions. In Judges 12, the Ephraimites show up, ostensibly to execute Jephthah for his failure to include them in the fight against Ammon. Perhaps Ephraim, aware of Jephthah’s sacrifice of his daughter, decides to act. They are in a difficult position to punish a vague vow that Jephthah has obediently fulfilled, because God would be understood to be the one who caused his daughter to walk out the door. With a needed smokescreen to conceal their desire to remove such a brutal man from their midst, Ephraim arrives at Jephthah’s doorstep with a lame excuse. Perhaps adding to Ephraim’s offense is the implication that Jephthah’s vow would not have been necessary had they been included in the war party.
In the debate between sacrifice and celibacy, Marcus represents the definitive work. “The text, as it stands now, admits the possibility of either conclusion.” Ultimately, Marcus suggests that the narrator deliberately obfuscates the truth to allow for either conclusion.38 But surely biblical Hebrew has easier ways to express a vow than with a concrete term like ‘ôlāh.
Ridout cuts through the debate best: “I must confess, that with all I have read on the subject, I have never been able to disabuse my mind of the fact that Jephthah did what every simple soul who reads the passage believes he did.”39 The best way to understand the text is the plainest reading: Jephthah offers his own daughter as a burnt offering as a fulfillment of the vow he made at Mizpah.
But even the way the vow is fulfilled is not the most crucial aspect in understanding the text. “The fact of human sacrifice in Jephthah’s story is secondary to the theme of the irrevocability of the vow.” Jephthah makes a vague and subsequently difficult vow, and he keeps it anyway.
11:39b–40 Jephthah’s daughter is commemorated through an annual celebration that is mentioned in Scripture only here. The text provides little information regarding the nature of the celebration. The annual event is more than a “custom.” It is in some way given an official legal status. The NIV’s translation of וַתְּהי־חֹק בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל (wattəhîḥōq bəyiśrā’ēl) is better translated, “It was a statute in Israel.” The annual event surrounding the fate of Jephthah’s daughter is more akin to legislation than custom.
Since there is no known Jewish celebration linked to the event, James Martin is likely correct when he suggests (along with Pamela Tamarkin Reis) that the four-day festival is likely linked to a fertility religion. Although Reis’s suggestion of the daughter’s manipulation of Jephthah’s vow is questionable, her suggestion regarding the ascendance of a fertility cult in connection with Jephthah’s daughter is a likely possibility. There are no other references to the festival in the Hebrew Bible, and the festival itself is limited to women, itself suggestive of a fertility cult. Unfortunately, the narrator does not provide more information since the original audience was surely familiar with both the ceremony and the statute-festival.
The existence of a fertility cult that undermines Israel’s loyalty to Yahweh as a result of Jephthah’s foolishness fits with similar occurrences throughout the book. Gideon’s ephod becomes a snare to Israel, as do Samson’s indiscretions, as does the Levite’s dismembering of his concubine that leads to the near elimination of a tribe, as does this fertility cult. The successful warrior Jephthah making and keeping his foolish vow leads to heresy in Israel. Jephthah causes all Israel to suffer in the form of false worship. A blasphemous fertility cult is the result of Jephthah’s well-intentioned and thoughtless vow. Ironically, Jephthah’s lack of discretion undermines the very things he hopes to preserve: the life of his daughter and the community of Israel.
Much of the argument about the entire narrative revolves around Israelite culture and Law. If the Israelites were ignorant of the Law, a human sacrifice wouldn’t be out of place. With a syncretistic religious context, almost anything goes. Many commentators, however, assume Jephthah and his culture possessed the ideal in both understanding and implementing the Law. As has already been noted, however, Jephthah has spent his life neglecting the Law through theft. Following the narrative in Judges 11, he will oversee the murder of his fellow Israelites after a battle. Considering Jephthah’s activities, his knowledge and/or practice of the Law is safely questionable.
Another barrier to interpreting this passage is the erroneous attempt to eliminate tension. Many have a strong desire to reconcile the apparent conflict between Judges 11 and Hebrews 11:32. How can a man sacrifice his own daughter in violation of the Law and still be held up as an example of faith? Jephthah is much more easily esteemed as a man of faith if he has shed no innocent blood. But Jephthah is only one of many imperfect men of faith. One need look no further than David, a man after God’s own heart who committed adultery and murder. Tension in Scripture is not problematic. It forces us to wrestle with our small, limited understanding of God and our relationship with him. Wrestling with paradox will always reveal that our actions and existence are much less significant and the grace of God far more vast than we ever imagined. The narrative of Jephthah’s daughter in Judges 11:29–40 is more than a story about a reckless warrior who attempts to manipulate God with a vow that backfires. The narrative is not about Jephthah’s foolishness, but about the larger story running through the book of Judges: God is faithful, active, and sovereign among a faithless and disobedient people. Jephthah’s lack of faith is somehow faith enough for God. Rather than undermining Jephthah, the narrative actually exalts God for his graciousness.
In seeking application from the narrative of Jephthah’s daughter, stepping away from the debate swirling around the text is important. Richard Rogers in his 1615 sermon commentary on Judges focuses on the individual responsibility to God and others in spite of injustice. Jephthah wanted to please God in his limited understanding, which doesn’t excuse his ignorance, but it is still important to be faithful with the amount of knowledge one possesses. Similarly, Rogers understands Jephthah’s daughter as an example of submitting to authority even in the face of injustice. His simple application is refreshing after being bogged down in the debate over the text.43
Application derived from this passage tends to ruffle modern sensibilities. Even so, the Jephthah narrative provides some valuable instruction. First, followers of Christ must labor against syncretism. Jephthah’s religious expression is amazingly inconsistent. He refuses to break a vow, but he will steal. He is generous granting his daughter two months more of life, but mercilessly kills his fellow countrymen. It remains debatable whether Jephthah’s religious understanding is some kind of syncretism—Yahweh worship blended with cultic practices around him—or whether he simply chooses those elements of religious expression he deems significant. Either way, Jephthah represents a self-centered approach to theology. Those filling churches in the current era are no less susceptible to a syncretized belief system, obtaining beliefs about grace from Romans, marriage from television soap operas, and politics from talk radio. Syncretism is often rooted in ignorance, but it also arises from stubbornness—thriving in the hearts of those who are unwilling to bow the knee all the way to the ground before the throne of God.
Second, enthusiasm must be tempered with wisdom. Enthusiasm is a wonderful motivator. It has the advantage of providing emotional security (“I’m zealous, so my theology is correct”) and is useful in accomplishing tasks. The enthusiastic dreamer achieves. Jephthah’s faith is actually proven by his willingness to keep his vow (no matter the interpretation of the nature of the vow). So sacrificing his daughter could really have been the greatest expression of his faith. On the one hand, the same could be said of Abraham. On the other hand, Jesus’ words in John 16:2, “An hour is coming for everyone who kills you to think that he is offering service to God,” suggests that zeal is not the only qualification for obedience to God. If it were, radical religious extremists would likely possess the correct theology. Enthusiasm is the most effective when it is tempered with understanding and the wisdom from above spoken about in James 3.
To temper enthusiasm, wisdom is a must. In Judges, the Spirit of God shows up sporadically, fills a man to perform a task, and then moves on. Fortunately for followers of Christ, a different arrival of the Spirit of God is present. Within the Christian paradigm is the belief that access to the heart and mind of God is available through the ongoing indwelling presence of his Spirit. So the supernatural wisdom described in James 3, Galatians 5, and John 16 cannot help but modify and mature enthusiasm to avoid foolishness like Jephthah’s. The discussion about Jephthah’s faith-vow connection is only a discussion about degree. Forcing celibacy on his daughter or her actual burnt offering—both are foolish because his vow was not thought out. The Christian perspective is that God himself provides the guidance to the believer, enabling that believer to serve God appropriately.
On the flip side, God paradoxically seems often to honor ignorant enthusiasm. This does not provide an excuse for indifference or ignorance. But growing in faith can be a messy, dirty, and confused process, and faith is often held strongly by messy, dirty, and confused people. The Jephthah narrative is yet one more of the many beautiful examples that demonstrate that faith is not determined by singular and even significant failures. God’s perspective on human faith seems to be transtemporal, stretching beyond individual incidents, looking at the faith represented by an entire lifetime. A perusal of the great men of faith in Hebrews 11 reveals sin and foolishness similar to those in Jephthah’s life. Noah is an exhibitionist drunkard. Abraham tries to disguise his wife as his sister, and he attempts in his own wisdom to father a son. Isaac learns from dad, and lies about Rebekah. Jacob “the Supplanter” steals his brother’s birthright. Joseph is arrogant and practices divination. Moses is a murderer. The Israelite people cross the Red Sea on faith, Hebrews 11 tells the reader, but those same people die in the desert because of their disobedience. Barak is a coward. Gideon is an idolatrous coward. David is a murdering adulterer. And Jephthah sacrifices his only daughter.
Christians tend to equate faith with perfect performance. Reaching some ideal seems deeply entrenched in our minds and hearts, so much so that we’re uncomfortable considering the alternative: that immoral people might just be people of powerful faith. This is not to suggest that we are free to ignore character, but rather to remind us that God’s activity does not depend on holiness. It depends on faith.
Third, God is impossible to bribe. Bribing or bargaining with a particular deity is common in the ancient world, and Jephthah gives it a try. But a bribe is only effective when the superior values the object of the bribe. We often attempt to manipulate God in the way we manipulate others. But God has no need to respond to vanity, or being liked, the monetary value of an offering, or our holiness. Perhaps a better way to think about God is with a parent-child metaphor. Most children do not attempt to offer anything to their parents in exchange for a granted request. Children might attempt to behave for Santa’s arrival, but they ultimately lack the attention span and capacity. Gifts are given from love, not for an exchanged value.
Finally, speech has the power to affect reality, so speak well. Without agreeing with the theologically unorthodox who claim reality may be spoken into existence by human beings, spoken words do have the power to affect reality. The Tower of Babel, Proverbs, the Prophets, the Incarnation, Pentecost, the Epistles—all testify to the power words have. Language is God’s chosen vehicle for specific revelation. Scripture is filled with encouragement to speak wisely, whether in keeping silent or keeping vows, the spoken word carries spiritual implications. Consequently, believers are responsible for what and how they speak. And believers’ speech should reflect the nature of God—all the love, all the optimism, and all the holiness of the Giver of language.
Jephthah is a flawed man with an imperfect faith whom God uses anyway. Christians can easily relate to him, even as God draws them into a deeper faith through his Spirit.
Fleenor, R., & Ziese, M. S. (2008). Judges-Ruth (pp. 179–190). Joplin, MO: College Press Publishing Company.
