Samson
The Book of Judges: A Cycle on Repeat
Let's start by zooming out a bit. Judges is a fascinating—and frankly, messy—book. It’s a cycle, not just going in circles but spiraling downward, like water circling a drain. God’s people start out blessed, then forget the source of those blessings, turn to idols, and end up oppressed by neighboring nations. When pain gets overwhelming, they cry out to God, who graciously raises up a deliverer—a “judge”—to save them. There’s a momentary return to blessing…and soon, the cycle repeats, each time worse than before.
By the end of Judges, it’s chaos and anarchy. The people who were supposed to be God’s light to the world find themselves overwhelmed by darkness, dragged down to the level of the nations around them.
Meet Samson: A Miraculous Birth and a Messianic Echo
You probably know Samson as the guy with the superhuman strength and epic hair. But his story begins with echoes of something much deeper. An angel appears to a woman (whose name, notably, isn’t even given—her husband Manoah gets all the credit) and announces she’ll have a special son who will be a Nazarite—a person dedicated to God from birth. Think “miracle child” with a mission.
The way this is described? It’s practically Messianic. We see clear parallels between Samson’s birth and the coming of Jesus: angelic announcement, glimmers of great promise, the Spirit stirring in this child from the start.
But friends, that’s where the similarities end.
A Blessing Gone Sideways: Samson’s Choices
Samson kicks off his adult life by doing almost everything God warned his people not to do. He insists on marrying a Philistine woman—directly defying God’s wisdom against intermarriage. See, God’s desire has always been that His people would eventually bless the nations, but because of their immaturity, He protects them for a time from outside influences. But Samson, headstrong as can be, insists. The tragedy? God allows him his free will, just as He always does. God doesn’t force obedience; love has to be chosen.
And yet, here we see God’s mysterious, gracious “left hand” at work. Even when Samson’s choices are out of alignment, God weaves those very failures into His bigger story. As Judges 14:4 puts it, God was “seeking an occasion to confront the Philistines,” folding Samson’s impulsive marriage into His redemptive plan.
The Nazarite Vow: More than Just Not Cutting Hair
Samson’s identity is marked by his Nazarite vow: no wine or grapes, no touching dead bodies, no haircuts. But as the story unravels, so does Samson’s commitment. He scoops honey out of a lion’s corpse (breaking the vow), likely indulges in drink, and lets his hair—his last remaining symbol—be shorn in a moment of spiritual confusion.
It’s a slow fade. That’s how disobedience always works—step by small step, closer to the edge, until you don’t even recognize how far you’ve drifted.
Escalation and Isolation: Samson versus the Philistines
From the bizarre (killing a lion with his bare hands) to the vengeful (sending foxes with torches into Philistine fields, smiting enemies with a donkey's jawbone), Samson’s story becomes a relentless cycle of retaliation. The violence escalates, but victory is always short-lived. The Philistines return, stronger, angrier, and the cycle repeats.
But here’s a telling twist: when the Philistines come after Samson, his own people hand him over. The tribe of Judah—God’s people!—conspire with their oppressors, just to keep the peace. If you’re picking up on shades of the Gospel—God’s deliverer betrayed by his own, handed over to the enemy—you’re right. But unlike Jesus, who conquers through forgiveness and self-giving love, Samson conquers through endless, destructive violence.
Charisma Without Character
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: Samson is no hero. He’s got charisma, for sure. He’s magnetic, gifted, a force of nature. But his character never catches up to his calling. He craves revenge, disregards God's boundaries, and lives a life out of alignment with God. The Spirit works through him, but it’s as if God is maneuvering around him—not with him.
There’s a haunting line in Judges 16:20:
"He did not know that the Lord had left him."
That should sober every one of us. It's possible to be so numb, so spiritually insensitive, that you’re still “doing the stuff” but God’s presence is nowhere to be found.
The Tragic End—and the Glimmer of Redemption
Blinded and beaten, Samson hits bottom. He’s a cautionary tale: the man who “had it all” and lost everything. But even here, God’s grace shows up. Samson’s hair (and hope) begins to grow again. In his final act, he calls out to God, bringing the house down—literally—on the Philistines and himself.
His victory? A mixed bag. There’s deliverance, yes, but also tragedy. No peace, no happily ever after. Just longing for something more.
The True Gospel: Longing for a Better Judge
That’s why the story of Samson matters. It exposes the lie that charisma is better than character, that outward success trumps inward faithfulness. It does what the Book of Judges does best: leaves us hungry for the real rescuer. The One not just anointed with power, but filled with obedience, humility, and sacrificial love.
Where Samson failed, Jesus triumphs. Where cycles of violence doomed God’s people to repeat their mistakes, Jesus forgives, heals, and shatters the cycle once and for all.
Are You Living in Step With the Spirit?
Friends, the story of Samson is a warning and an invitation. It’s possible to see God work through you while you’re missing God entirely. Character matters more than charisma. God isn’t calling us to be successful by worldly standards—He’s calling us to be faithful. As Mother Teresa once said, “God has not called me to be successful, but faithful.”
So here’s my encouragement: Seek alignment with God. Don’t settle for being the “strongest” or the “most gifted.” Long for the deeper work—walking hand-in-hand with Jesus, the True Deliverer. Where Samson leaves us longing, Christ satisfies.
