By Larry Barnes in Judges — 05 Dec 2025

Judges 18

12/05/2025

Judges 18 NKJV: It says, "the tribe of the Danites was seeking an inheritance for itself to dwell in". This wasn't the whole tribe, but just a small portion, right?

Yes, you're correct—Judges 18 describes only a portion of the tribe of Dan, not the entire tribe, migrating north to capture Laish (later renamed Dan).

Here’s why we know it wasn’t the whole tribe:

The text itself specifies a limited group
- Judges 18:2 – “five men from their coasts” (or “from their clans”) are sent as spies from Zorah and Eshtaol.
- Judges 18:11 – “six hundred men appointed with weapons of war” from the Danites (literally “from the family/clan of the Danites”) set out on the expedition. This is a relatively small military force (600 armed men plus their families, v. 21), not tens of thousands.
The rest of the tribe remained in their original territory for centuries
- The original Danite allotment was along the coastal plain between Judah and Ephraim (Joshua 19:40–48), but they couldn’t fully displace the Philistines/Amorites, so most Danites stayed squeezed in that area (Judges 1:34–35).
- Later biblical references show Danites still living in the original southern cities (e.g., Samson is from Zorah and Eshtaol in the south, Judges 13–16).
- Even after the northern city of Dan became famous (it marked Israel’s northern border: “from Dan to Beersheba”), the Old Testament continues to mention the southern Danite towns as still inhabited by Danites (e.g., 1 Chronicles 2–4 genealogies and town lists).
This was essentially a colonial expedition The 600 warriors and their households established a new northern settlement because the tribe as a whole had failed to secure enough land in their original inheritance. The migration relieved population pressure and gave one branch of Dan a new home, but the majority of the tribe (or at least significant numbers) remained in the original territory in the south for hundreds of years.

So in short: Judges 18 is the story of a breakaway group (a few clans or families) within Dan, not the relocation of the entire tribe. The tribe of Dan effectively ended up with two main population centers after this event—one small remnant in the south and a larger settlement in the far north.

We established in the last chapter that Micah's family was wealthy, so it is no real surprise that the spy would find their way to his house, or compound, when they traveled through the area.

Not quite. The text doesn’t actually portray Micah’s household as particularly wealthy in a way that would naturally draw travelers or make his house an obvious stop.

Here’s what Judges 17–18 actually emphasizes about Micah and his house:

Micah is from the remote hill country of Ephraim (17:1, 8).
He has a “house of gods” (a private shrine with an ephod, teraphim, a carved image overlaid with silver, and a molten image; 17:4–5).
He has enough silver (originally 1,100 shekels that he returned to his mother) to make those idols, and he can afford to hire a Levite as a personal priest for 10 shekels of silver per year plus room and board (17:10).
But nothing in the story suggests he runs an inn, has a large estate, or is regionally famous for wealth.

The reason the five Danite spies stop at Micah’s house is explicitly stated in 18:2–6:

They recognize the voice of the young Levite when he comes out to greet them (they can tell from his speech that he’s a Levite).
They deliberately go in to consult him because they want a priestly oracle before continuing their mission (“Inquire of God, that we may know whether the journey on which we go will be prosperous,” 18:5).

In other words, they seek him out because he’s a functioning priest with an ephod, not because Micah is a rich notable whose compound is a natural way-station. The text presents it as somewhat providential (or ironic) that they happen to pass a private shrine with a real (if illegitimate) Levitical priest right when they need a divine consultation.

Later, when the main force of 600 Danites returns (18:11 ff.), they again target Micah’s house deliberately, this time because the spies had already scouted it and knew exactly where to get a full shrine kit and a priest to take with them. It’s not random hospitality or Micah’s wealth drawing traffic; it’s the presence of the Levite and the idolatrous shrine that makes his house the target both times.

So Micah has enough means to set up his own little cult center, but the story doesn’t treat him as a regional magnate whose compound would naturally attract passers-by. The spies and the war party go to him on purpose because of the religious resources he’s gathered, not because he’s the local Hilton.

I see that the says ask Jonathan to inquire of God, but doesn't mention that he actually did.

You’re absolutely right — the text is deliberately ambiguous (and that ambiguity is part of the point).

Here’s what actually happens in Judges 18:5–6 (NKJV):

5 They said to him, “Please inquire of God, that we may know whether the journey on which we go will be prosperous.”
6 And the priest said to them, “Go in peace. The journey you are on is before the LORD” (or more literally: “The way in which you go is before the LORD”).

Notice what is missing:

No mention of the priest putting on the ephod
No casting of lots
No Urim and Thummim
No prophetic trance or vision
No explicit statement that he actually inquired of God at all

The priest (Jonathan, the grandson of Moses/Gershom) simply pronounces a vague, feel-good blessing: “Go in peace. Your journey is before the LORD.”

That response is suspiciously generic and non-committal. In legitimate biblical oracles (e.g., 1 Sam 23; 30; 2 Sam 2; 5), we’re usually told explicitly that the priest “inquired of the LORD” and then gave a clear yes/no or directional answer. Here we get nothing of the sort.

Most scholars and commentators see this as intentional irony:

The Danites think they’re getting a legitimate divine oracle.
The narrator lets the reader see that the priest never actually consulted God; he just made something up (or gave a pious-sounding platitude).
The whole scene is part of the book’s larger indictment of the religious chaos of the period: “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (17:6; 21:25).

So yes — you caught a very important subtlety. The text never says Jonathan actually inquired of God. He just gave the Danites the answer they wanted to hear. And tragically, they took it as divine approval for the violent conquest and idolatry that followed.

When the spies return with the 600 men of war and take Micah's idols and graven images, I had a bit of hope that they were offended and would destroy them, but no. They took them for themselves and convinced Jonathan to come with them as their priest. What a messed up scenario.

It really is one of the bleakest, most cynical scenes in the entire Old Testament.

You’re hoping (like any reader with a functioning conscience hopes) that when the 600 armed Danites show up and see this private idolatrous shrine in the hill country, they’ll react with righteous indignation: smash the idols, execute the apostate Levite, and burn the whole thing to the ground.

Instead, their reaction is basically:

“Sweet! A complete portable pagan kit AND a real Levite to run it? Jackpot. We’ll take that.”

And then they gaslight the Levite with the most cold-blooded recruitment pitch in Scripture (18:19):

“Shut up and come with us. Is it better for you to be priest to the house of one man, or to be priest to a whole tribe and clan in Israel?”

It’s pure pragmatism: bigger congregation, better benefits, zero regard for the second commandment they’re all breaking.

What makes it even darker is that the narrator refuses to insert any explicit condemnation. He just reports it deadpan, letting the outrageousness speak for itself. The effect is chilling: this is what happens when “there was no king in Israel” and everyone does “what is right in his own eyes.”

A Levite descendant of Moses becomes a mercenary priest-for-hire.
A whole tribe adopts rank idolatry as its official state religion.
They commit robbery, threaten massacre (Micah’s neighbors wisely decide not to fight 600 armed men), and then go conquer and slaughter the peaceful people of Laish — all under the cheerful blessing of their new stolen god and stolen priest.

And the worst part? For centuries afterward, this stolen shrine at Dan became one of Israel’s two official golden-calf sanctuaries (1 Kings 12:28–30). The sins that began with Micah’s living-room idol eventually corrupted the entire northern kingdom.

You’re supposed to finish chapter 18 feeling queasy. The writer wants you to say out loud, “What a messed-up scenario.” Because that’s the whole point of these final five chapters of Judges: Israel has hit rock bottom, and they don’t even know it.

They have come a long way from Joshua where the tribes west of the Jordan wanted to go to war with the tribes east of the Jordan because they erected an alter.

Exactly. That contrast is so stark it almost hurts.

In Joshua 22:

The two-and-a-half tribes east of the Jordan build a big altar.
The western tribes hear about it, immediately assume the worst (idolatry and rebellion against the Lord), muster the entire army, and march out ready to wipe them out in holy war to protect the purity of Israel’s worship.
It turns out to be a misunderstanding (the altar was a memorial, not a rival worship site), so they go home praising God.

Fast-forward to Judges 18:

An entire Israelite tribe openly robs a private idolatrous shrine, complete with molten and graven images.
They install a renegade Levite as priest of a brand-new pagan cult center.
They proceed to massacre a peaceful non-Israelite city and set up one of the most infamous idol sanctuaries in Israel’s history.
And literally no one in Israel lifts a finger. No delegation, no army, no prophetic rebuke, nothing.

In Joshua’s generation, the mere rumor of an unauthorized altar almost triggers a civil war to defend the First and Second Commandments.

In the Judges generation, the open, violent establishment of rank idolatry doesn’t even merit a raised eyebrow.

That’s the tragedy the writer wants you to feel in your bones: Israel has fallen so far that what once would have provoked national outrage is now just… business as usual.

From “We will go to war over a possible altar” to “We’ll steal your idols and your priest, thanks” in less than two centuries. That’s the moral and spiritual free-fall the book of Judges is documenting.

Lesson: I don't know. I usually look at who did wrong and the consequences of that, but everything in this chapter is wrong. I guess the lesson is to stay vigilant in the faith so you don't do stupid like the Danites.

That’s a really honest and accurate response.

Judges 18 is one of those chapters where everyone is wrong and nobody gets punished in the story itself. There’s no heroic Phinehas, no sudden lightning bolt from heaven, no prophetic voice crying out. Just sin, success, and silence. That’s what makes it so unsettling, and why it sticks with you.

You’re right: the usual “sin → judgment” pattern is missing here. The Danites do something blatantly evil and get away with it (at least in the short term). They gain land, a city, a priesthood, and a religious center that lasts for centuries. From a worldly point of view, it “worked.”

But the narrator is screaming at the reader without raising his voice:
This is what spiritual rot looks like when it wins.

So the lesson isn’t “Do this and God will zap you tomorrow” (because sometimes He doesn’t, not immediately).
The real lesson is more sobering:

Idolatry doesn’t always look ugly at first. It can look practical, prosperous, even religious (“We’re getting a Levite priest! This is an upgrade!”).
Compromise is contagious. Micah starts with “a little shrine in my house,” and two chapters later an entire tribe has an official idol sanctuary.
When there’s no king (no authority, no accountability, no shared standard), people don’t become free. They become predators or victims.
The scariest judgment might be when God lets you succeed in your rebellion.

So yes, your takeaway is spot-on:
Stay vigilant. Guard your heart. Don’t drift.
Because the Danites didn’t wake up one day and decide to become idol-worshiping robbers. They got there one compromise at a time, thinking the whole way that they were being smart and blessed.

And that’s the warning Judges 17–18 leaves burning in the air.