There are moments when I read the Bible and have deep theological questions. Then there are moments when I read the Bible and simply want to ask, “Samson, what are you doing?” Judges 16 is one of those moments.
Most of us know the story. Samson meets Delilah. She discovers the secret of his strength. His hair is cut. The Philistines capture him. Samson loses everything. It is one of those Bible stories that has become so familiar that we can almost forget how strange and heartbreaking it really is.
Because when you slow down and actually read the story, something becomes painfully obvious: Delilah does not exactly hide what she is doing. She asks Samson where his great strength comes from and how he can be subdued. Samson gives her a false answer. She immediately uses that information against him. The Philistines show up, and Samson escapes. That should probably be enough information to end the relationship. But it is not.
She asks again. Samson gives her another answer. She tries it again. The Philistines come again. This pattern continues until eventually I want to crawl into my Bible, grab Samson by those seven luxurious locks, and yell, “My guy. She is trying to kill you.” And yet, Samson stays. Eventually, he tells her the truth. For years, I think I read this story believing Samson’s greatest failure was trusting the wrong woman.
Delilah betrayed him.
Samson should have seen it coming.
Samson should have walked away.
Lesson learned.
But the more I sit with Judges 16, the more I wonder if the deeper issue was not that Samson trusted Delilah. Maybe Samson trusted Samson. Samson had spent his entire life experiencing God’s strength in impossible situations. He had survived his own impulsiveness. He had survived his anger. He had survived his appetite. He had survived moments where his own decisions should have destroyed him, yet somehow he continued to walk away victorious.
Again and again, when Samson needed strength, strength came. And perhaps that became the problem.
Maybe Samson’s greatest weakness was not Delilah.
Maybe Samson’s greatest weakness was believing Samson was invincible.
After Delilah finally discovers the truth and Samson’s hair is shaved, she wakes him and tells him the Philistines are coming. Samson responds with a sentence that reveals exactly what he believes will happen next. “I will go out as at other times and shake myself free” (Judges 16:20).
As at other times. Those words stop me.
Samson is not afraid. Why would he be? He has been here before. He has faced impossible situations before. He has been surrounded before. He has made questionable decisions before. He has gotten himself into situations he probably never should have been in before.
And every single time, God showed up. So why would this time be any different?
This is where Samson’s story becomes a warning for all of us.
He assumed tomorrow’s grace because of yesterday’s grace.
He assumed yesterday’s strength would cover today’s compromise.
He had gotten away with so much that he no longer believed consequences could find him.
I think there is something incredibly dangerous about experiencing the mercy of God over and over again without allowing that mercy to change us.
Mercy is supposed to lead us closer to God, but if we are not careful, we can begin treating mercy like permission.
We cross a boundary and nothing happens. We compromise and nothing immediately falls apart. We make a poor decision and God graciously rescues us. Then we do it again.
Eventually, we can start believing that because God rescued us before, He will rescue us the exact same way again. We mistake mercy for immunity.
And I wonder if that is where Samson was. “I will go out as at other times.” Those words reveal someone who had become confident in yesterday’s experience without recognizing what was happening in him today. Then comes one of the saddest sentences in Scripture. “But he did not know that the LORD had left him” (Judges 16:20). He did not know.
That part is what breaks my heart.
Samson did not realize anything had changed. He got up expecting the same strength, the same escape, and the same outcome. He assumed what had always happened would happen again. But this time was different.
I have wrestled with this verse because I believe deeply in the faithfulness of God. I believe the promise that God will never leave nor forsake His people. I do not believe this moment means God stopped loving Samson or abandoned him.
Samson’s strength had always been connected to God’s empowerment and to the calling Samson had been entrusted to carry. His hair was never magic. The power was never in Samson. The strength was always from God. And perhaps that is what Samson forgot.
The strength was never his. Something that had once been received as a gift slowly became something Samson expected as a right. And that is where this story becomes painfully personal.
How often do we do the same thing? How often do we start treating God’s blessings as things we are entitled to simply because we have experienced them for a long time?
- Our marriage.
- Our family.
- Our opportunities.
- Our influence.
- Our calling.
- Our gifts.
Even tomorrow. None of these things are owed to us. They are grace. And grace should produce gratitude, not entitlement. There is a difference between trusting God’s faithfulness and presuming upon it.
Trust says, “God has been faithful, so I will follow Him.”
Presumption says, “God has been faithful, so I can do whatever I want and He will clean it up.”
Those are not the same thing.
Samson’s “as at other times” makes me examine the places where I have assumed that because God covered something yesterday, I can be careless with it today. It makes me ask whether repeated mercy has made me more grateful or simply more comfortable.
Because yesterday’s grace was never intended to finance today’s compromise.
God’s mercy is enormous. His patience is astounding. His ability to redeem our worst decisions is one of the reasons I love Him. But I never want His goodness to make me careless.
I want it to make me grateful.
I want every rescue to make me wiser.
Every second chance to make me more humble.
Every experience of mercy to pull me closer instead of convincing me I can wander farther.
Samson walked into that moment believing he would shake himself free just like he always had. As at other times. But this was not other times. And maybe that is the warning I am carrying with me from Samson’s story. I do not want to live afraid that consequences are waiting around every corner. But I also do not want to live as though I am invincible simply because God has been merciful. I am not invincible. I am just deeply loved by a very merciful God. And I never want to confuse the two.
Onward, Chari x