good

 

The first reading set for Morning Prayer today is Judges 11.1-11.

The Book of Judges tells the story of the loosely federated tribes of Israel, after they settled in Canaan and before they were united into a kingdom. Throughout this period, various of the tribes were in conflict with various of their neighbours, who were either already living in the same territory or also seeking to take control of it. The Book of Judges presents a cycle of defeat to and oppression by neighbouring peoples, followed by successful uprising and temporary liberation under the leadership of a usually flawed hero.

Judges 11.1-11 introduces Jephthah, whose story (spoilers!) will ultimately end in tragedy. Jephthah is the child of an adulterous relationship, and though he grows up to be described as a mighty man of valour, his half-brothers drive him away, determined that he will not share the inheritance with them.

What interests me is that the account tells us that Jephthah flees to the land of Tob. Tob, or towb, means good, or pleasant. It describes an environment where healing from abuse can take place. Where someone who has been wronged might be seen, and affirmed, for who they really are. And as Jephthah removes himself to such a place, we are told that others gather to him. Men described as worthless gather to a man described as being of valour.

It is worth reflecting on who has assigned these descriptions. Jephthah himself is considered worthless by his brothers—indeed, at least for now, by his wider community; though they will come to fetch him back when they think his skills as a warrior might serve them: this, too, is abuse—though the narrator clearly has a different perspective. Likewise, the worthless fellows, or outlaws, who gather to him are outlaws because they have been driven out by their families or communities.

And in the place of Tob, the good and pleasant place, they experience healing and come to see themselves not as worthless but as skilled warriors. As a thorn in the side of the communities who drove them out.

Sometimes families can be toxic, and sometimes the wisest and bravest course of action is to cut ties (though to be clear, Jephthah will go on to make some disastrous decisions as a parent: trauma can beget trauma, even where there has been a measure of healing). But healing doesn’t happen in isolation. We need the land of Tob, the good and pleasant place. The community that honours our stories, that sees us without rejection, that is good to us. That chooses, again and again, to love someone who, because of their brokenness and baggage, resentment and bitterness, or simply because their response to potential danger is stuck on high alert, may be hard to love.

Whatever your story, may you know a ‘land of Tob.’