Judges 19:20-20:26

Hook

We gather today in the quiet space of remembrance, a space carved out for the echoes of lives lived and the enduring imprint they leave upon us. This occasion meets us at the threshold of a deeply unsettling and tragic narrative from the book of Judges. It is a story that plunges into the darkest corners of human behavior, a stark reminder of societal breakdown and the horrific consequences that can arise when foundational principles of hospitality and justice are abandoned. While the text before us is not a prayer for the departed in the traditional sense, it serves as a profound and challenging contemplation on vulnerability, the shattering of trust, and the ripple effects of violence. It invites us to sit with discomfort, to acknowledge the raw pain that can surface when we confront the depths of human failing, and to consider how we might find meaning and even a glimmer of hope amidst such profound sorrow. This passage, though grim, can become a vessel for our own remembrance, allowing us to hold our personal losses within a larger human narrative of struggle and resilience.

Text Snapshot

"In those days, when there was no king in Israel, a certain Levite residing at the other end of the hill country of Ephraim took to himself a concubine from Bethlehem in Judah. Once his concubine deserted him, leaving him for her father’s house in Bethlehem in Judah; and she stayed there a full four months. Then her husband set out, with an attendant and a pair of donkeys, and went after her to woo her and to win her back. She admitted him into her father’s house; and when the young woman’s father saw him, he received him warmly. His father-in-law, the young woman’s father, pressed him, and he stayed with him three days; they ate and drank and lodged there. Early in the morning of the fourth day, he started to leave; but the young woman’s father said to his son-in-law, “Eat something to give you strength, then you can leave.” So the two of them sat down and they feasted together. Then the young woman’s father said to the man, “Won’t you stay overnight and enjoy yourself?” The man started to leave, but his father-in-law kept urging him until he turned back and spent the night there. Early in the morning of the fifth day, he was about to leave, when the young woman’s father said, “Come, have a bite.” The two of them ate, dawdling until past noon. Then the man, his concubine, and his attendant started to leave. His father-in-law, the young woman’s father, said to him, “Look, the day is waning toward evening; do stop for the night. See, the day is declining; spend the night here and enjoy yourself. You can start early tomorrow on your journey and head for home.” But the man refused to stay for the night. He set out and traveled as far as the vicinity of Jebus—that is, Jerusalem; he had with him a pair of laden donkeys, and his concubine was with him. Since they were close to Jebus, and the day was very far spent, the attendant said to his master, “Let us turn aside to this town of the Jebusites and spend the night in it.” But his master said to him, “We will not turn aside to a town of aliens who are not of Israel, but will continue to Gibeah. Come,” he said to his attendant, “let us approach one of those places and spend the night either in Gibeah or in Ramah.” So they traveled on, and the sun set when they were near Gibeah of Benjamin. They turned off there and went in to spend the night in Gibeah. He went and sat down in the town square, but nobody took them indoors to spend the night. In the evening, an old man came along from his property outside the town. (This man hailed from the hill country of Ephraim and resided at Gibeah, where the locals were Benjaminites.) He happened to notice the wayfarer in the town square. “Where,” the old man inquired, “are you going to, and where do you come from?” He replied, “We are traveling from Bethlehem in Judah to the other end of the hill country of Ephraim. That is where I live. I made a journey to Bethlehem of Judah, and now I am on my way to the House of GOD, and nobody has taken me indoors. We have both bruised straw and feed for our donkeys, and bread and wine for me and your handmaid, and for the attendant with your servants. We lack nothing.” “Rest easy,” said the old man. “Let me take care of all your needs. Do not on any account spend the night in the square.” And he took him into his house. He mixed fodder for the donkeys; then they bathed their feet and ate and drank. While they were enjoying themselves, the townsmen, a depraved lot, had gathered about the house and were pounding on the door. They called to the aged owner of the house, “Bring out that man who’s come into your house, so that we can be intimate with him.” The owner of the house went out and said to them, “Please, my friends, do not commit such a wrong. Since this fellow has entered my house, do not perpetrate this outrage. Look, here is my virgin daughter, and his concubine. Let me bring them out to you. Use them, do what you like with them; but don’t do that outrageous thing to this fellow.” But the others would not listen to him. So the man seized his concubine and pushed her out to them. They raped her and abused her all night long until morning; and they let her go when dawn broke. Toward morning the woman came back; and as it was growing light, she collapsed at the entrance of the very house where her husband was. When her husband arose in the morning, he opened the doors of the house and went out to continue his journey; and there was the woman, his concubine, lying at the entrance of the house, with her hands on the threshold. “Get up,” he said to her, “let us go.” But there was no reply. So the man placed her on the donkey and set out for home. When he came home, he picked up a knife, and took hold of his concubine and cut her up limb by limb into twelve parts. He sent them throughout the territory of Israel. And everyone who saw it cried out, “Never has such a thing happened or been seen from the day the Israelites came out of the land of Egypt to this day! Put your mind to this; take counsel and decide.” Thereupon all the Israelites—from Dan to Beer-sheba and [from] the land of Gilead—marched forth, and the community assembled as one, before GOD at Mizpah. All the leaders of the people [and] all the tribes of Israel presented themselves in the assembly of God’s people, 400,000 fighters on foot.— The Benjaminites heard that the Israelites had come up to Mizpah.—The Israelites said, “Tell us, how did this evil thing happen?” And that Levite, the husband of the murdered woman, replied, “My concubine and I came to Gibeah of Benjamin to spend the night. The citizens of Gibeah set out to harm me. They gathered against me around the house in the night; they meant to kill me, and they abused my concubine until she died. So I took hold of my concubine and I cut her in pieces and sent them through every part of Israel’s territory. For an outrageous act of depravity had been committed in Israel. Now you are all Israelites; produce a plan of action here and now!” Then all the people rose as one and declared, “We will not go back to our homes, we will not enter our houses! But this is what we will do to Gibeah: [we will wage war] against it according to lot. We will take from all the tribes of Israel ten of every hundred, a hundred of every thousand, and a thousand of every ten thousand to supply provisions for the troops—to prepare for their going to Geba in Benjamin for all the outrage it has committed in Israel.” So Israel’s entire force, united as one, massed against the town. And the tribes of Israel sent agents through the whole tribe of Benjamin, saying, “What is this evil thing that has happened among you? Come, hand over those scoundrels in Gibeah so that we may put them to death and stamp out the evil from Israel.” But the Benjaminites would not yield to the demand of their fellow Israelites. So the Benjaminites gathered from their towns to Gibeah in order to take the field against the Israelites. On that day the Benjaminites mustered from the towns 26,000 fighters, mustered apart from the inhabitants of Gibeah; 700 elite troops of these forces—700 of the best troops—were left-handed. Every one of them could sling a stone at a hair and not miss. Those on Israel’s side—other than Benjamin—mustered 400,000 fighters, every one of them a warrior. They proceeded to Bethel and inquired of God; the Israelites asked, “Who of us shall advance first to fight the Benjaminites?” And GOD replied, “Judah first.” So the Israelites arose in the morning and encamped against Gibeah. Israel’s side took the field against the Benjaminites; those on Israel’s side drew up in battle order against them at Gibeah. But the Benjaminites issued from Gibeah, and that day they struck down 22,000 of the Israelites. Now the army—Israel’s side—rallied and again drew up in battle order at the same place as they had on the first day. For the Israelites had gone up and wept before GOD until evening. They had inquired of GOD, “Shall we again join battle with our kinsmen the Benjaminites?” And GOD had replied, “March against them.” The Israelites advanced against the Benjaminites on the second day. But the Benjaminites came out from Gibeah against them on the second day and struck down 18,000 more of the Israelites, all of them fighters. Then all the Israelites, all the army, went up and came to Bethel and they sat there, weeping before GOD. They fasted that day until evening, and presented burnt offerings and offerings of well-being to GOD. The Israelites inquired of GOD (for the Ark of God’s Covenant was there in those days, and Phinehas son of Eleazar son of Aaron the priest ministered before [God] in those days), “Shall we again take the field against our kinsmen the Benjaminites, or shall we not?” GOD answered, “Go up, for tomorrow I will deliver them into your hands.” Israel set up ambushes against Gibeah on all sides. And on the third day, the Israelites went up against the Benjaminites, as before, and engaged them in battle at Gibeah. The Benjaminites dashed out to meet the army and were drawn away from the town onto the roads, of which one runs to Bethel and the other to Gibeah. As before, they started out by striking some of the troops dead in the open field, about 30 of the Israelites. The Benjaminites thought, “They are being routed before us as previously.” But the Israelites had planned: “We will take to flight and draw them away from the town to the roads.” And while everyone else on Israel’s side had moved away from their positions and had drawn up in battle order at Baal-tamar, the Israelite ambush was rushing out from its position at Maareh-geba. Thus 10,000 of the best troops from all Israel came to a point south of Gibeah, and the battle was furious. Before they realized that disaster was approaching, GOD routed the Benjaminites before Israel. That day the Israelites slew 25,100 of the Benjaminites, all of them fighters. Then the Benjaminites realized that they were routed. Now the rest of Israel’s side had yielded ground to the Benjaminites, for they relied on the ambush that they had laid against Gibeah. One ambush quickly deployed against Gibeah, and the other ambush advanced and put the whole town to the sword. A time had been agreed upon by the rest of Israel’s side with those in ambush: When a huge column of smoke was sent up from the town, the rest of Israel’s side was to turn about in battle. Benjamin had begun by striking dead about 30 men on Israel’s side, and they thought, “They are being routed before us as in the previous fighting.” But when the column, the pillar of smoke, began to rise from the city, the Benjaminites looked behind them, and there was the whole town going up in smoke to the sky! And now Israel’s side turned about, and Benjamin’s side was thrown into panic, for they realized that disaster had overtaken them. They retreated before Israel’s force along the road to the wilderness, where the fighting caught up with them; meanwhile those from the towns were

massacring them in it. They encircled the Benjaminites, pursued them, and trod them down [from] Menuhah to a point opposite Gibeah on the east. That day 18,000 of the Benjaminites fell, all of them brave men. They turned and fled to the wilderness, to the Rock of Rimmon; but [the Israelites] picked off another 5,000 on the roads and, continuing in hot pursuit of them up to Gidom, they slew 2,000 more. Thus the Benjaminite fighters who fell that day numbered 25,000, all of them brave men. But 600 others turned and fled to the wilderness, to the Rock of Rimmon; they remained at the Rock of Rimmon four months. Those on Israel’s side, meanwhile, turned back to the rest of the Benjaminites and put them to the sword—towns, people, cattle—everything that remained. Finally, they set fire to all the towns that were left."

Kavvanah

As we hold this challenging text, our intention is to find a path toward understanding and integration, not through facile comfort, but through a courageous witness to suffering and its aftermath. We are not seeking to condone the horrific acts described, nor to diminish the profound pain they represent. Instead, our kavvanah is to open ourselves to the experience of grief that this narrative evokes, both for the individuals directly harmed and for the broader societal breakdown it signifies.

Acknowledging the Unspeakable

We approach this text with the awareness that some memories are too painful to speak aloud, and some experiences too traumatic to fully comprehend. Our intention is to create a sacred space where these unspoken sorrows can be acknowledged without judgment. Just as the concubine's broken body was dismembered and sent as a stark message, so too can we acknowledge the ways in which profound trauma can feel like a fracturing of the self, a scattering of peace. Our kavvanah is to hold this sense of fragmentation with gentle awareness, recognizing that healing is not always linear, and that moments of deep pain are valid and deserving of our compassionate attention.

Witnessing the Absence of Justice

The absence of a king, the breakdown of communal responsibility, and the horrific violation of hospitality create a landscape where justice is absent. Our intention is to bear witness to this void, to the silence where accountability should be, and to the resulting chaos. In our own lives, we may have experienced moments where justice felt absent, where the wrongs committed against us or those we love went unaddressed. Our kavvanah is to hold these experiences with the understanding that the human capacity for both great cruelty and deep suffering is immense, and that acknowledging this reality is a vital step in our own process of remembrance and healing.

Seeking Threads of Humanity

Despite the darkness, this text also presents moments of unexpected connection and compassion. The old man in Gibeah, though ultimately unable to prevent the atrocity, embodies a profound act of kindness and hospitality in a time of lawlessness. Our intention is to seek out these small, yet significant, flickers of humanity within the narrative, and to allow them to illuminate our own capacity for empathy and care. In our remembrance, we can honor the good that existed, even in the shadow of great evil, and find strength in the enduring human spirit that seeks to offer solace and protection.

Practice

In this moment, we will engage in a practice designed to honor the memory of those lost, not only in the narrative before us, but in our own lives. This practice invites a mindful connection to the echoes of grief and the enduring legacy of love.

The Resonance of a Name

We will begin by bringing to mind the name of a loved one whose memory we wish to honor today. This may be someone whose passing is recent, or someone whose absence has become a quiet, constant companion. There is no right or wrong way to feel, no prescribed timeline for grief. Simply bring the name to your awareness.

The Unfolding of a Story

As you hold this name, consider a single, simple memory of this person. It does not need to be a grand event. It could be the way they laughed, a shared meal, a quiet moment of understanding, a phrase they often used. Choose one small detail, a sensory impression – the scent of their perfume, the warmth of their hand, the sound of their voice.

The Candle of Legacy

If you have a candle, light it now. If not, imagine a gentle, steady flame. This flame represents the light of the person you are remembering. It is a light that continues to shine, even in their absence.

• If you have a candle: As you light it, you might say, "I light this flame in memory of [Name]."
• If you do not have a candle: You can place your hand over your heart, or simply hold the image of a flame in your mind. As you do so, you might silently or softly speak the name of your loved one.

The Gentle Offering of Presence

Now, gently bring to mind that single memory you chose. Allow yourself to feel whatever arises. There is no need to force any particular emotion. If tears come, let them flow. If a smile emerges, allow it. If a sense of quiet contemplation settles, embrace it. This is a space for your authentic experience.

As you hold this memory, consider the impact this person had on your life, and perhaps on the lives of others. What qualities did they embody? What lessons did they impart, perhaps without even intending to? These are the threads of their legacy, woven into the fabric of your own being.

The Seed of Continuing Kindness

Finally, consider one small act of kindness you can offer to the world in their name. This does not have to be a grand gesture. It could be a moment of patience with another, a word of encouragement, a gesture of support. This act is a continuation of the love and light they brought into the world.

As you prepare to extinguish the candle (or to conclude the practice), you might say: "May the light of [Name]'s memory continue to inspire acts of kindness in the world. May their legacy be one of enduring love."

Community

In times of grief and remembrance, the weight of our experiences can feel isolating. Connecting with others, sharing our stories, or even simply knowing we are not alone can be a profound source of solace. This practice invites us to extend our circle of remembrance and to offer or receive support.

Sharing the Echoes

Consider how you might share a reflection or a memory of the person you are remembering with someone else. This could be:

• A brief conversation: Reach out to a friend, family member, or spiritual companion. You might say, "I've been thinking about [Name] lately, and I wanted to share a small memory with you..."
• A written message: Send a text, email, or card to someone who also knew your loved one. A simple message like, "Thinking of you and [Name] today. I remembered this about them..." can open a door for shared remembrance.
• A communal space: If there is a group or community you are part of, consider if there is a way to collectively honor those we remember. This could be through a shared reading, a moment of silence, or a contribution to a communal remembrance project.

The Strength of Shared Witness

If you are feeling overwhelmed or need additional support, consider reaching out to a trusted friend, a member of your faith community, or a professional counselor. There is immense strength in acknowledging our need for support and in allowing others to walk alongside us during difficult times.

• Ask for a listening ear: "I'm finding this time challenging, and I could really use someone to listen without judgment."
• Seek shared remembrance: "Would you be open to sharing a memory of [Name] with me, or perhaps participating in a small ritual together?"

The act of reaching out, or of offering a listening ear to another, can transform the solitary burden of grief into a shared journey of remembrance and healing. Even in the face of profound loss, community offers a beacon of hope and connection.

Takeaway + Citations

This journey through a difficult passage from Judges reminds us that remembrance is not always comfortable, nor is it always about finding easy answers. It is about bearing witness, about acknowledging the complexities of human experience, and about finding threads of meaning and connection that can sustain us. The story of the Levite and his concubine, while brutal, also highlights the enduring human need for safety, for hospitality, and for justice. Even in the deepest darkness, the memory of kindness, like the old man's offer of shelter, can serve as a reminder of our better selves.

May we carry the lessons of this text not as a burden, but as a guide. May we find the courage to confront difficult truths, to honor those we have lost with authenticity, and to nurture the seeds of kindness and compassion that can bloom even in the most barren landscapes. May our remembrance be a source of strength, connecting us to the past, grounding us in the present, and inspiring us toward a more just and compassionate future.

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Citations:

• Judges 19:20-20:26: https://www.sefaria.org/Judges_19.20-20.26
• Metzudat David on Judges 19:20:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Metzudat_David_on_Judges.19.20.1
• Metzudat David on Judges 19:20:2: https://www.sefaria.org/Metzudat_David_on_Judges.19.20.2
• Minchat Shai on Judges 19:20:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Minchat_Shai_on_Judges.19.20.1
• Malbim on Judges 19:20:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Malbim_on_Judges.19.20.1
• Steinsaltz on Judges 19:20: https://www.sefaria.org/The_Steinsaltz_Humash_on_Judges.19.20
• Abarbanel on Judges 19:20:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Abarbanel_on_Judges.19.20.1