By Larry Barnes in Judges —

Judges 17

12/04/2025

Judges 17 NKJV: Oh, there are so many things wrong in this chapter. Let's start with the first. It looks like Micah stole 1100 shekels of silver from his mother. That sounds like a lot of silver. She cursed whoever stole it, and he felt bad so he confessed and returned the silver. She is so happy, she says, "May you be blessed by the LORD." It would be a good story if it ended here, but then you find out she had intended that silver for her son to make idols and images. And it spirals down from there.

Yes, Judges 17 is a wild and darkly ironic chapter — one of the clearest pictures in Scripture of how spiritually chaotic Israel had become in the period of the judges. The refrain that bookends this section (“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes” — Judg 17:6, 21:25) is practically the thesis statement for everything that happens here.

Let’s walk through the cascade of wrong turns you mentioned:

  1. Theft and the bizarre “blessing” Micah steals 1,100 shekels of silver from his own mother (the exact amount later used to hire the Levite in v. 10 and the same amount each Philistine lord offers Delilah in Judg 16:5 — probably not a coincidence). His mother pronounces a curse (presumably in his hearing), he gets scared of the curse, confesses, and returns it. So far it sounds like a repentance story… until the mother responds by saying, “May you be blessed by the LORD, my son!” and immediately dedicates the silver to Yahweh… to make a carved image and a cast idol (pesel ûmassēkâ) — things explicitly forbidden in the Second Commandment. So she “blesses” him by using the stolen money to commit blatant idolatry in his name. That’s the first gut-punch of irony.
  2. Micah’s private sanctuary Micah already has a “house of gods” (bêt ʾĕlōhîm), an ephod, teraphim (household idols), and now adds a molten image. Then he consecrates one of his own sons as priest. This is a complete do-it-yourself religion: private shrine, private idols, private priesthood — everything Yahweh condemned in the covenant.
  3. The wandering Levite A young Levite from Bethlehem in Judah (later revealed to be Jonathan, a grandson of Moses himself! — see 18:30) is “looking for a place to stay” (literally “sojourning where he could find a place”). Micah hires him for 10 shekels of silver a year, a suit of clothes, and room and board, saying, “Now I know that the LORD will prosper me, because I have a Levite as priest” (17:13). Micah thinks he’s finally “legitimized” his idolatry because he has a real Levite on staff — like checking a box that makes the whole operation kosher. It’s tragicomic.

The whole chapter is written with a thick layer of irony and subtle sarcasm. The narrator never directly says “This is evil,” because he doesn’t need to — every detail screams it. It’s a portrait of total religious syncretism and moral confusion:

  • Using Yahweh’s name to bless rank idolatry
  • A Levite (who should be serving at the tabernacle) selling his services to the highest bidder
  • A grandson of Moses becoming the founding priest of what will become one of Israel’s worst idolatrous shrines (Dan’s sanctuary in Judges 18)

Judges 17–18 is basically the biblical author saying, “You want to know why Israel kept falling into apostasy and oppression? This is what was happening on the ground when there was no king and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.”

It’s grim, but it sets the stage for the monarchy (and ultimately points to the need for a truly faithful King). Pretty sobering stuff.

This Levite from Bethlehem is said to be of the family of Judah. I thought the priests were of the family of Levi.

Great question — this detail is confusing at first, and it’s one of the places where the text is deliberately drawing attention to how broken everything has become.

Judges 17:7 says (NKJV):
“And there was a young man from Bethlehem in Judah, of the family of Judah; he was a Levite, and was staying there.”

Two ways this statement is usually understood, and both highlight the chaos of the period:

  1. Most common and best explanation
    He was a Levite (from the tribe of Levi) by blood and ancestry, but he was living in Bethlehem of Judah and had been adopted/incorporated into a Judahite family or household.
    In other words:We see this kind of language elsewhere. For example, Levites were scattered throughout Israel and often lived in cities that belonged to other tribes (Josh 21). So a Levite could be described as “from” or “of” another tribe’s territory.
    • Tribal descent: Levi → he is actually a Levite (and therefore eligible to serve as priest)
    • Geographic residence and social affiliation: Bethlehem in the territory of Judah → he is “of the family of Judah” in the sense that he belonged to a Judahite clan or was living as part of that community.
  2. Alternative view (less common)
    Some older Jewish and Christian commentators thought “of the family of Judah” might mean he was from the clan of Judah within the tribe of Levi (because Levi had intermarried or had geographic connections with Judah). But that’s unnecessary and not supported by the later verse.

The real clincher comes in Judges 18:30:
“And the children of Dan set up for themselves the carved image; and Jonathan the son of Gershom, the son of Moses [some manuscripts read “Manasseh”], he and his sons were priests to the tribe of Dan until the day of the captivity of the land.”

So the Levite is explicitly identified as Jonathan, son of Gershom, grandson of Moses himself — 100% Levite by descent. That makes the phrase in 17:7 (“of the family of Judah”) almost certainly mean “a Levite who was residing in the territory/family circle of Judah.”

Why does the writer emphasize this?
It drives home the tragedy:

  • A literal grandson of Moses
  • A full-blooded Levite (from the priestly line no less!)
  • Has wandered so far from his calling that he’s living in Judah, homeless, willing to sell his priestly status to a private idolatrous shrine for 10 pieces of silver a year.

In a properly functioning Israel, this man would have had a secure inheritance in one of the Levitical cities and would have served at the tabernacle. Instead, in the days when “there was no king in Israel,” he’s a spiritual mercenary. The irony is thick and painful.

The 1100 shekels of silver seems to be a lot. Can I infer that Micah was from a wealthy family?

Yes, you can absolutely infer that Micah and his mother were quite wealthy — probably among the richer families in the hill country of Ephraim.

Here’s why 1,100 shekels of silver is a staggering amount in that era:

  1. Comparative values in the Bible→ So 1,100 shekels is roughly 110–140 years of a hired man’s wages, or the price of 35–40 slaves. That’s an enormous private fortune for a rural family.
    • The tabernacle’s silver sockets (100 sockets at 1 talent each) used about 3,400 kg of silver for the whole nation. That was a national offering.
    • A common yearly wage for a hired worker was about 8–10 shekels (see Judges 17:10 — the Levite is hired for 10 shekels a year).
    • A good slave cost around 30 shekels (Exodus 21:32).
    • The Philistine lords later offer Delilah 1,100 shekels each (5,500 total) — a fortune meant to tempt her.
  2. What the mother does with it
    She casually says, “I wholly dedicated the silver… to the LORD… to make a carved image and a molten image” and then hands over 200 shekels to a silversmith (17:3–4).
    Even after Micah returns the full 1,100, she treats 200 shekels as the amount needed for the idols — meaning she still has 900 left over and doesn’t seem worried about it. That again points to serious wealth.
  3. The shrine itself
    Building and maintaining a private shrine with multiple idols (carved image, molten image, ephod, teraphim), plus paying a live-in Levite priest an annual salary + clothing + room and board, is not something a poor hill-country family could afford.

So yes — Micah’s household was clearly prosperous, maybe even local “gentry.” The irony, of course, is that all this wealth is immediately poured into do-it-yourself idolatry instead of being used to support the legitimate worship at Shiloh. In the author’s eyes, that makes their spiritual bankruptcy even more glaring against the backdrop of their material wealth.

I guess I am most surprised that the Levite actually goes along with all this. And, as you said, he turns out to be Moses's grandson. You would think he should know better. But then, I think of Eli and his sons in Samuel's story.

Exactly — that’s the gut-punch of the story. A grandson of Moses, raised on the stories of the Exodus, the giving of the Law, the golden-calf disaster (which his own grandfather smashed to pieces), ends up as the paid priest of a knock-off idolatrous shrine in the hill country. It’s almost unbelievable… until you remember that the very next generation after Joshua was already forgetting:

“And also all that generation were gathered to their fathers; and there arose another generation after them, who did not know the LORD, nor yet the work which He had done for Israel” (Judges 2:10).

By the late period of the judges (probably 12th–11th century BC), centuries have passed since Sinai. The centralized worship at Shiloh is weak or distant for many Israelites, the Levites have no real political power or land, and many of them are poor and scattered. A Levite without a city or inheritance could easily become desperate.

So when Micah offers:

  • steady pay (10 shekels a year + clothes + food),
  • a place to live,
  • and the flattering title of “father and priest” (17:10),

…it’s tragically understandable that Jonathan takes the gig. He’s not forced; he’s complicit. He rationalizes it the same way Micah does: “Now I know the LORD will prosper me, because I have a Levite as priest” (17:13). Both of them think having the right “clergy” on staff makes the whole idolatrous operation legitimate.

And you’re absolutely right to connect this to Eli’s sons (Hophni and Phinehas) in 1 Samuel 2. The rot had already spread from private household shrines all the way to the official priesthood at Shiloh:

  • Eli’s sons treat the offerings with contempt, sleep with the women serving at the tabernacle, and turn worship into a money-making racket.
  • Eli himself is too weak (or too compromised) to stop them.
  • The ark is eventually lost because of their wickedness.

So Judges 17–18 and 1 Samuel 1–4 are painting the same picture from opposite ends: top to bottom, the priesthood has failed. The grandson of Moses is selling his services to idolaters, and the sons of Eli are stealing from God Himself. Israel’s spiritual leadership is bankrupt, and that’s why the people are crying out for a king (and why God will eventually give them one — first Saul, then David).

It’s one of the bleakest stretches in the Old Testament, but it makes the grace shown later (Samuel’s call, David’s reign, and ultimately the promise of a faithful Priest-King in the Messiah) shine all the brighter.

It is easy to look back and criticize these for their behavior, but we still have much of the same today. There are many priests and preachers who are basically in it for the money, even though most have gone through training and teachings and should know better. Guess that falls back to sinful human nature.

Exactly.

When you strip away the ancient setting, Judges 17 is painfully contemporary. A wealthy patron wants a private, personalized religion that makes him feel spiritual without demanding real repentance. A trained religious professional (who absolutely knows better) trades his credentials for job security, status, and a paycheck. Both sides tell themselves, “God will bless this arrangement,” while ignoring the clear commands of Scripture. It’s the same transaction we still see:

  • Pastors who won’t preach hard texts because it might shrink the offering
  • Churches that become spiritual country clubs for the comfortable
  • Celebrity ministers who build empires instead of making disciples
  • People who “church-shop” until they find a place that never confronts their favorite sins

And just like the Levite Jonathan, many of today’s hirelings can quote the Bible forward and backward. Knowledge isn’t the problem; the love of money, security, and approval is (1 Tim 6:10; John 10:12–13).

The difference is that in ancient Israel there was no king to enforce covenant faithfulness, so everyone did “what was right in his own eyes.” Today we do have a King—Jesus—who sees every transaction, knows every heart, and has already warned us:

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.” (Matt 7:21)

Judges 17 isn’t just ancient history; it’s a mirror. And a warning.

Thankfully, the same grace that raised up Samuel after Eli’s failure, and David after Saul’s, is still at work, calling Jonathans and Micahs (and us) to repentance and true worship.

It reminds me of what I learned in James: to be a friend of the world is to be an enemy of God.

Exactly. James 4:4 cuts straight to the heart of the Micah-and-Jonathan story:

“You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.”

Micah wanted a religion that let him keep his wealth, his family honor, and his idols, all while still using the name “Yahweh.”
Jonathan wanted security, a title, and a salary more than he wanted faithfulness to the covenant his grandfather Moses delivered.

Both of them were trying to stay on good terms with the world (its comforts, its approval, its money) while still claiming to be on good terms with God. James says that’s impossible. It’s spiritual adultery.

The same verse hangs over every decision we face today:

  • Will I soften the message so people keep liking me?
  • Will I chase the income, the platform, the security instead of the narrow road?
  • Will I build my own little shrine (my brand, my preferences, my comfort) and just slap “blessed by the Lord” on it?

James doesn’t leave us without hope, though. Just a few verses later he quotes Proverbs 3:34: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” The way back is always the same: submit to God, resist the devil, draw near, cleanse your hands, purify your hearts (James 4:7–10).

Micah and Jonathan never took that path (at least not in the story we’re given). But the fact that the Bible holds up their failure so plainly means we still can.