Charles Ellicott Commentary Judges 11:39

"And it came to pass at the end of two months, that she returned unto her father, who did with her according to his vow which he had vowed: and she knew not man. And it was a custom in Israel," — Judges 11:39 (ASV)

Who did with her according to his vow. In this significant euphemism, the narrator drops the veil—as though with a shudder—over the terrible sacrifice. Of course, “did with her according to his vow” can only mean “offered her up for a burnt offering” (Judges 11:31). “Some,” says Luther, “affirm that he did not sacrifice her; but the text is clear enough.” The attempt, first started by Rabbi Kimchi, to make this mean “kept her unmarried until death”—that is, shut her up in a sacred celibacy—is a mere distortion of plain Scripture.

That he did actually slay her in accordance with his cherem is clear, not only from the plain words, but also for the following reasons:

1. The customs of that day knew nothing about treating women as “nuns.” If there had been any institution of vestals among the Jews, we would have certainly heard of it, nor would the fate of Jephthah’s daughter have been regarded and represented here as exceptionally tragic.
2. There are decisive Scriptural analogies to Jephthah’s vow, taken in its most literal sense—for example, Abraham (Genesis 23:3), Saul (1 Samuel 14:44), and others .
3. There are decisive pagan analogies, both Oriental (2 Kings 3:27; Amos 2:1) and classical. For instance, Idomeneus actually sacrificed his eldest son (Servius, on Aeneid, book 3, line 331) in an exactly similar vow, and Agamemnon his daughter Iphigenia.
4. The ancient Jews, who were far better acquainted than we can be with the thoughts and customs of their race and the meaning of their own language, have always understood that Jephthah did literally offer his daughter as “a burnt offering.” The Targum of Jonathan adds to the words “it was a custom in Israel” the explanation, “in order that no one should make his son or his daughter a burnt offering, as Jephthah did, and did not consult Phinehas the priest. Had he done so, he would have redeemed her with money”—that is, Phinehas would have decided that it was less of a crime to redeem such a cherem than to offer a human sacrifice.

It is curious to find that another legend (hagadah) connects Phinehas with this event in a very different way. It says that Phinehas sanctioned, and even performed the sacrifice, and that for this very reason he was superseded due to the indignation of the Israelites. This is the reason they offer for the fact that Eli was of the house, not of Phinehas, but of Ithamar (Lightfoot, Works, volume 1, pages 12-18). In the same way, Idomeneus, after sacrificing his eldest son, is punished by the gods with plague and by his citizens with banishment. Josephus agrees with these Jewish authorities and says that Jephthah offered (holokautôsen) his daughter ; and so does Rabbi Tanchum.

The opinion was undisputed until a thousand years after Christ, when Rabbi Kimchi invented the plausible hypothesis that has pleased so many commentators who bring their own preconceived notions to the Bible and then find them there. Ewald contents himself with saying that this “timid modern notion needs no refutation.” It is remarkable that we find a similar vow as late as the sixth century after Christ. Abd Almuttalib, grandfather of Mohammed, vowed to kill his son Abd Allah if God would give him ten sons. He had twelve sons; but when he wished to perform his vow, the Koreish interfered, and Abd Almuttalib, at the bidding of a priestess, gave one hundred camels as a ransom (Weil, Mohammed, page 8).

It was a custom. Or, ordinance—that is, to lament Jephthah’s daughter. Probably the custom was local only, for we find no other allusion to it.