Jephthah had a difficult childhood. The son of a harlot, he was rejected by his half-brothers and fell into unsavory company (Judges 11:1-3). But he had impressed someone along the way, because when the Ammonites came to war against Israel, the leaders found him and pleaded with him to lead their army. He agreed to come, on the condition that he be allowed to lead the country after the war (Judges 11:4-11).
This proclivity for dealmaking worked well with desperate people, but it proved catastrophic in Jephthah’s relationship with God. As he led the army into battle…
Jephthah vowed a vow unto the Lord, and said, If thou shalt without fail deliver the children of Ammon into mine hands,
Judges 11:30-31
Then it shall be, that whatsoever cometh forth of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace from the children of Ammon, shall surely be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up for a burnt offering.
What did he think would happen? Surely he wasn’t envisioning a sheep or a cow running out the door to congratulate him after a successful battle! The answer is probably that he didn’t think about it at all. It sounded brave, and it probably energized his army to know that their captain had put so much on the line.
So the battle ended, and when he returned home, “his daughter came out to meet him with timbrels and with dances: and she was his only child; beside her he had neither son nor daughter” (Judges 11:34). In horror, he explained to her his oath. She requested two months to mourn with her friends, which he granted. After that, the author of Judges doesn’t dare to describe what happened, merely that her father “did with her according to his vow which he had vowed” (Judges 11:39).
What is this story? A morality tale? A Greek tragedy? Was Jephthah the victim of fate or of his own bad decisions? And did God actually expect him to fulfill that oath?
First, we should be clear that the oath itself violated the law of Moses. As the Israelites prepared to enter the promised land, Moses warned them against imitating the practices of the current inhabitants:
Take heed to thyself that thou be not snared by following them, after that they be destroyed from before thee; and that thou inquire not after their gods, saying, How did these nations serve their gods? even so will I do likewise.
Deuteronomy 12:30-31; see also Leviticus 18:21; 20:2-5
Thou shalt not do so unto the Lord thy God: for every abomination to the Lord, which he hateth, have they done unto their gods; for even their sons and their daughters they have burnt in the fire to their gods.
The practice of offering a human as a burnt offering, as Jephthah vowed to do (Judges 11:31) was not unheard of in that region, but it was specifically forbidden by God.
Second, the law provided an off-ramp. Leviticus 27 specifies monetary values to be given to the Lord in the place of a person. If she was younger than twenty years old, the price would have been ten shekels of silver (v. 5). If older, it would have been thirty (v. 4). Perhaps Jephthah wasn’t aware of this provision, or perhaps he didn’t think it applied to his situation. Worse, he might have felt the need to follow through because the oath was widely known, fearing the opinion of other men more than the will of God.
However, it is true that oaths under the Law of Moses were binding. “If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond; he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that proceedeth out of his mouth” (Numbers 30:2). Jephthah’s anguished response to his daughter, “I have opened my mouth unto the Lord, and I cannot go back” (Judges 11:35) was not melodrama; he genuinely believed he was trapped.
The descendants of Lehi in the Book of Mormon inherited this immutable adherence to oaths. From the beginning, when Nephi and Zoram allayed one another’s fears with solemn oaths (1 Nephi 4:32-37) to the Anti-Nephi-Lehies swearing never to fight again (Alma 53:11), and even to the dark oaths of the Gadianton Robbers (Helaman 6:25-30), it is evident that keeping oaths was more important than life itself. Even Captain Moroni’s repeated practice of freeing prisoners of war if they swore never to attack his people again (Alma 44:20; 50:36; 62:16-17) presupposes the fundamental role of oaths, even among enemies.
All of which leads to a Jephthah-like event in the Book of Mormon. After a couple of false starts in which Amalickiah’s armies were unable to conquer the well-defended cities of the Nephites, he redoubled his recruiting efforts, swearing with an oath “to drink the blood of Moroni” (Alma 49:27; 51:9). He should have known better; his chief captains had all been killed after swearing to capture the well-fortified city of Noah (Alma 49:13, 17, 25). Mormon even editorializes on this decision:
We shall see that his promise which he made was rash; nevertheless, he did prepare himself and his armies to come to battle against the Nephites.
Alma 51:10
Amalickiah personally led his army in conquering many Nephite cities. Nevertheless, soon after, he was assassinated in his own tent by Teancum (Alma 51:33-34).
Jephthah and Amalickiah both made rash promises, and both paid a tragic price. Jephthah lost his daughter; Amalickiah lost his life. No wonder the Savior would later counsel His disciples on both continents, “Swear not at all; … but let your communication be Yea, yea; Nay, nay, for whatsoever cometh of more than these is evil” (3 Nephi 12:34, 37; see also Matthew 5:34, 37). Take your promises seriously, so seriously that you are careful what you commit to. Don’t make rash promises that you may later regret. It may feel courageous at the time, but you may discover that what seemed like courage was actually folly.
Today I will be thoughtful about my commitments. I will “count the cost” (Luke 14:28) before making promises, and I will think about the possible impact of those promises on myself and on others.
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