2648 AM (1112 BCE) – SAMSON
The waves of the great sea crashed along the rocky shore. Night covered the land, but the moon allowed those cheating sleep to slip down for a cool dip. That is where Manoah met his wife, Yael, one fateful night. They were married that same night… in the strictest legal sense. Manoah and Yael settled into their new life in Zorah so they could find work and yet still be close to the sea.
As was the custom of the day, married couples were expected to have children and start a family. Crazy, I know. And while Manoah and Yael worked very diligently at trying, in the strictest legal sense, of course, Yael was never able to conceive. They were not a particularly “religious” couple by any means, but secretly, in Yael’s heart, quietly to herself, she would pray to Adonai for a son.
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The wind caused the barley to wave incessantly at Yael in golden sways of lethargic fullness, as the ripe heads weighed heavily on the barley’s stalks. Manoah had gone into town to sell some of the barley harvest and get some supplies. He would be back for dinner. Yael was finishing planting the wheat that would be their income in the latter harvest, at the northern edge of their field. That is where Yael met her angel that fateful day.
“Shalom, Yael. Do not be afraid,” a voice said from behind Yael.
Yael turned to greet the strange voice, but she was, indeed, very afraid. Terrified, even.
The voice continued, “Adonai sees that you are barren, and that you long for a child. He has heard your petitions, and he is willing to allow you to conceive. But there are conditions.”
The strange face of the strange voice glowed slightly. Or was it his clothes that glowed? Was this an angel of Adonai?
The voice continued, “You are not to drink wine or any distilled liquor, nor are you to eat anything unclean. Your child will be a Nazir (a Nazirite) from birth, and a razor is never to touch his head. He will be dedicated unto Adonai, and he will be a tool that Adonai will use to deliver Israel from the power of the Philistines.”
Yael literally blinked, and the angel, or whatever it was, probably an angel—at least she was pretty sure it was an angel—was gone.
Yael collected herself, and then she collected her things, and then she rushed into town to find Manoah.
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Manoah was walking away from the exchange, counting and recounting the shekels he had received for the barley, when he looked up and saw Yael in the distance headed his way like a wild ibex searching for its mate.
Manoah’s countenance lifted tremendously. “Yael!” he said in delight.
Yael looked nervously side to side and tried to offer a friendly smile. Manoah did not really notice her nervousness, just her smile. Then he was back to counting the shekels.
“You know,” he said, as she got closer, “barley just doesn’t bring in what it used to. Everyone is planting barley, and it’s just frustrating. You know, if we planted next year during the Shemitah, we could corner the market! Eh?”
“I don’t know, Manoah,” Yael said, just being a little more short with him than she intended. “Look, sorry, I have to tell you something. A man from Adonai came to me just now. He was scary, terrifying. His face was strange, like that of an angel of Adonai.”
“What did it look like?” Manoah inquired.
“It was… I mean, it looked like,” she tried, but she could not remember the face. The image changed and twisted in her mind, and all she could remember was his glow.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally concluded, “just listen to what he said, which was that Adonai knows we are barren, and he wants us to have a child.”
“He wants us to have a child?” Manoah bleated in response.
p>“Yeah, and he is going to make it happen. I mean, I am sure there are responsibilities we have, but I mean, he will let us finally conceive for all our efforts.”Manoah knew exactly what she meant. They loved each other, and they loved loving each other, but after years of not being able to conceive, the act, while comforting, was more an act of cold, clinical necessity than a joyful delight.
“But there are strings,” she added.
“Strings?” he bleated.
“He will be a Nazirite from birth, so no alcohol or fruit of the vine, no more unclean foods, and we can’t shave his head. That’s it, I guess.”
Manoah looked at her longingly. “You guess? Well, that’s not so bad, right?”
What were these sudden feelings of longing? He had not felt this way since the romantic moon-lit night at the sea, all those years ago.
“Hello?!? Eyes up here,” Yael said sternly.
Manoah was lost in his thoughts. “Oh, right, sorry. Well, we should get back, I think,” he said with a sly smile.
“I don’t believe it is shekels you were sent to town for,” she added just as sternly.
Manoah looked down at the bag of shekels in his hand. “Oh, right. Where’s my head?” he apologized.
“Where, indeed,” Yael said flirtatiously.
She offered him a hand, and they headed to the market.
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Later that night, when Manoah was finally calm and Yael was asleep, Manoah went out and just stared at the moon. He didn’t worship it or anything; it was useful in helping them track the month, but it was beautiful and reminded him of the majesty of Adonai.
Manoah, not being terribly “religious,” did not really know how to pray to Adonai. So he just petitioned in his mind that the messenger or angel or man of God—whatever it was—be sent again, so that he could see him. It wasn’t that he did not believe Yael, but to give up alcohol—and his favorite meats?—he had to be sure this was real, if only so he could be all in.
As the moon started to dip to the other side of the sky, nothing happened. No glowing men showed up with messages of great joy. Finally, succumbing to drowsiness, Manoah went back in and cozied up next to his wife.
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When Manoah woke, it was light outside and Yael was already gone. Usually, she would have woken him. Maybe she just wanted to make up the time she lost going into town. It didn’t matter. Manoah would make himself a quick bite and then join her.
Just as Manoah had gotten dressed, Yael came rushing in. “Hey! Manoah! Come quickly! The messenger is back! He is asking for you! Come on!”
Manoah had just managed to get his sandals on when Yael grabbed him and rushed him to the field. There, standing, waiting, was the angel. He stood so still. Even when he spoke, he was mostly like a statue. And just like Yael had said, his face glowed. Or was it his clothes that were glowing?
Manoah started, “Greetings, uh, hi. So, um, so are you the one who came to Yael yesterday?”
“Yes, I am,” the Angel of Adonai confirmed. “I came as you asked of Adonai last night.”
This provoked a raised eyebrow of consternation from Yael, as Manoah continued, “I see. And when this comes true, what guidance do you have for us in raising him? What should be done for him?”
Yael’s face was in her hand, and her head betrayed her disbelief at her own husband’s hubris. “Really?” she said quietly to herself.
The angel looked at Yael for a moment and then turned back to Manoah. “What your wife told you yesterday is what I told her, and she needs to take care to do everything I instructed her to do. You do not need to do anything but support her in this and be faithful to Adonai, your Creator.”
Manoah was overwhelmed. This was, indeed, what he needed to hear. His heart leapt, and he once again bleated, “Stay a bit longer. Let us prepare you a goat! You like goat, right? Who doesn’t!”
Manoah felt like Abraham talking to the Angel of Adonai. But he wasn’t the Angel of Adonai. He was an angel of Adonai. Confusing, I know.
But, with absolute patience and resolve, the Angel of Adonai answered Manoah, “Even if I am allowed to stay, I am not allowed to eat of your food. If you want to offer a shelamim (peace offering), that is permitted. But you must offer it up to Adonai as a burnt offering.”
“What is your name?” the bleatster once again bleated. “I mean, so that when this all comes to pass, we can honor and remember you.”
The angel of Adonai looked at Manoah. He seemed without any emotion. “Why do you want to know my name? Your mind cannot comprehend its sound or its meaning. Your mind can barely process my appearance, and it will never remember my face. I am nobody. Adonai is who you should remember and honor. Serve him, and serve him alone, as I also serve him.”
Manoah took the goat, killed it, and laid it on a simple stone altar, along with some of their barley. The Angel then approached the altar and raised his arm. Fire came up from the rock and burned up everything, carrying the ashes and aroma high into the heavens, up to Adonai.
Manoah and Yael fell to the ground in terror. As they recovered their senses, they looked up. The Angel was gone. All that remained was the scorched rock altar, blackened where the offering had once been. Even the ash was gone.
Manoah turned to Yael. “Are we going to die? We have seen Adonai!”
Yael, always the pragmatic one, thought about it. “No, that was just the messenger of Adonai, not Adonai himself. Besides, why would he appear to us twice and promise us a son just to make him an orphan?”
“Okay, fair point. Well, still, he is something fierce. I wouldn’t want to face him in battle,” Manoah bleated.
“No doubt,” Yael agreed. “No doubt.”
Used with permission by the author. Find the author’s complete works online: Complete Works of Mack Samuels
