When There’s No King: The Wild West of Ancient Israel

The last three chapters of Judges are difficult to read. There aren’t any clear heroes or redemptive moments. Instead, the stories move between personal trauma, collective violence, and decisions that feel increasingly desperate. Throughout it all, one phrase repeats:
“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

That line appears twice in these chapters. It seems to do more than mark time—it frames the whole section. These aren’t just chaotic events; they’re what life looked like when there wasn’t a clear source of leadership or shared understanding of what was right.

Trouble in Gibeah

Judges 19 begins with a Levite traveling to retrieve his concubine. They stop for the night in the town of Gibeah, where things quickly unravel. The story takes a deeply violent turn, and the woman is abused and left dead. The Levite’s response is shocking and ritualistic, sending a clear message to the rest of Israel about what has occurred.

Civil War and Collateral Damage

What follows is a civil war. The tribes of Israel gather to demand justice, but the tribe of Benjamin refuses to surrender those responsible. The conflict escalates quickly. Battles are fought. Towns are burned. By the end, the tribe of Benjamin is nearly wiped out.

A Desperate "Solution"

Then, in an attempt to preserve what remains of that tribe, the other Israelites resort to yet another troubling solution: the mass abduction of women. The cycle of violence and retribution continues, now justified by the need to fix the consequences of previous actions. There is no narrator offering judgment. Just a series of decisions, each one shaped by what came before.

Questions Without Conclusions

It’s difficult to know what to make of these events. What happens when there’s no shared understanding of justice? When a search for accountability turns into collective punishment? And what happens when the effort to repair a community leads to further harm?

The repeated line about the lack of a king could point to a need for centralized leadership. Or it might be commenting on a deeper absence—a breakdown in social cohesion or shared ethics. Either way, the book seems to be highlighting what happens when a group of people no longer agree on how to live together.

The Book Closes, but the Questions Stay Open

Judges doesn’t end on a high note. There’s no resolution, only a sense of disarray. These stories don’t wrap up neatly. They leave behind the aftermath of choices made by individuals and communities trying to navigate a world without common direction.

There’s a lot to sit with here, even if it doesn’t lead to simple conclusions.