Samson: The Conan of the Bible
The story of Samson is one of the most unique in the Bible. Or, perhaps I should say, it’s one of the most cinematic. From his feats (feets?) of strength to a tragic downfall at the hands of the woman he loved, to his redemption in death, Samson’s story perfectly represents that of a “tragic hero.” His story is one of passion, betrayal, and redemption, and it tells us a little something about the complicated nature of people with “a calling.”
Samson was a Nazarite, meaning he took a unique vow (or rather, his parents took it on his behalf) in order to demonstrate his devotion to God. It was threefold. 1. He would not drink alcohol, 2.He would not cut is hair, 3. He would touch a dead body. Okay, weird, but fair enough. In return, God gives Samson special strength- which he will keep so long as he keeps his vows.
These vows seem odd to us, perhaps. But think of it less like an odd combination of strange requests that God is making of someone and more like a concrete way of demonstrating your commitment to God. Think of these vows as being like a wedding ring, a symbol of commitment to another person. There is nothing particularly special about the ring being on the finger. It certainly doesn’t do anything to protect or preserve the relationship. But it is a concrete and visual sign that something has been promised. Samson is doing the same, in his old-timey way. He is demonstrating his commitment to God through a certain kind of lifestyle.
This has always been a part of God’s relationship with people. He wants them to be “holy”, aka set apart, distinct, a little bit different. By virtue of living a life that is a little bit different people call attention to themselves. They don’t do it in a show-y, “look at me louie” kinda way. They simply live a unique life and, by doing so, their lives in very obvious and concrete ways point others to the goodness of God. That’s the idea anyway. And even if it seems weird to us, this is the dynamic at play back then and people got it. So we can just roll with it.
Regardless of all this, Samson, of course, breaks each of his vows. A fact we’ll return to later.
Samson was also just not a good dude. He used his strength to get what he wanted and he murdered and slaughtered somewhat indiscriminately. He was arrogant and lustful, and he had little regard for the vows he had made to God. Not exactly heroic.
You all know the story. He gets a gf who is secretly in cahoots with his enemies- and they’re pretty invested in getting this strong man to be, uh, weak. They recruit Delilah to figure out the source of his strength (odd they don’t assume it’s just muscles) so that they can take Samson down. Eventually this is what happens. Samson tells Delilah about his hair, she cuts it, he loses his strength, he is blinded and put in prison. He’s later pulled out of prison to perform for his enemies- and Samson prays to God that his strength return. His dying act is to knock over pillars that are supporting the ceiling of the structure he’s in and so Samson dies, along with a good chunk of his enemies. This is interpreted as being an act of self sacrifice in order to save God’s people.
According to the book of Hebrews, Samson is a hero of the faith. I suppose this is likely for the role he played in saving his people in death. It was most certainly not a lifetime achievement award. As far as we know, Samson basically did one good (bad) deed that involved killing a group of people who were trying to wipe God’s people off the earth. That one good deed is enough to make him a hero. There’s a lot of scandalous stuff in his life. Not just food and wine but sex and murder and, more broadly, having little regard for the vows he makes to God. And yet, one good deed is enough to overshadow all this.
Should we all be so lucky as to have our legacy stem from our best moments as opposed to our worst ones. It’s hard for us to imagine our legacies being based on our best moments when we live in the midst of a “gotcha” culture that’s really only interested in our mistakes. But- God does not seem to work this way.
On the one hand, I don’t want to make any sweeping generalizations about what “one good deed” can do. On the other- perhaps it’s enough to know that one good deed can overshadow a lifetime of thumbing your nose at all the things God holds dear. And, if that’s all it takes, perhaps God isn’t as concerned with our pasts as we might think. And, perhaps, atoning for our sins isn’t so difficult to do.
I’m thinking through all the conversations I’ve had with people where they express regret at how they’ve lived and how they can’t imagine that God could accept them given all they’ve done. But maybe it’s not that hard for God. Maybe all he needs is one good deed. And I bet you’ve got one left in you.
