If you have been with us during this series on Judges, you are probably familiar with the idea that the book is arranged as a chiasm. After all, that is how I have started each of the sermons! For the blog this week, I thought I would share a bit more background on this—slightly more technical than I usually get during a sermon.

First of All: What Is a Chiasm?

The term comes from rhetoric. A chiasm is a “reversal of grammatical structures in successive phrases or clauses—but no repetition of words” (that definition comes from Wikipedia). A chiasm has a satisfying feel to it because of its non-repetitive symmetry.

In literature, however, chiasms are less about rhetoric and more about structure and embedding meaning into texts through deliberate arrangement. Chiasms are quite common in the Hebrew Bible, as well as in Greek literature. Genesis, for example, is full of apparent chiasms—some more clear than others.

Because of their somewhat interpretive nature, chiasms can sometimes involve speculation, and sometimes that speculation stretches credulity. It is easy to find a chiasm, but harder to prove it. As the (chiastic) expression goes: chiasm finders find chiasms.

There is no doubt, however, that biblical authors often employed parallel structures to organize their narratives and control their shape. Chiasms tend to focus attention toward the center of the narrative, providing a sense of climax. They also serve interpretive purposes, applying a layer of meaning through parallelism and symmetry.

The Book of Judges as a Chiasm

The chiastic analysis I have relied on in my sermons comes from an article by D. W. Gooding, published in 1982 in Eretz-Israel: Archaeological, Historical and Graphical Studies. The article is entitled “The Composition of the Book of Judges.”

Gooding’s work represents part of a broader shift in Old Testament scholarship in the latter half of the twentieth century. Earlier source criticism, dating back to the eighteenth century, aimed to reconstruct the hypothetical sources behind biblical books. Judges, for example, was often treated as a patchwork of older stories and documents, and scholars attempted to reconstruct its “prehistory.”

The problem with this approach is that it was highly speculative and produced a wide range of incompatible conclusions. Different scholars regularly arrived at opposite results. This raises questions about the reliability of a method that yields such inconsistent outcomes.

As Gooding writes:

Now it is inevitable that a common theory, however sound, will lead to minor variations in application by different scholars; but irreconcilable disagreements of this magnitude are altogether another matter… It must be that there is something wrong with the axioms and criteria themselves. And the suspicion is confirmed when one looks at the recent literature on Judges, where one will not infrequently encounter criteria used, deductions made, and supporting arguments adduced on the basis of hidden presuppositions that are highly dubious, if not demonstrably invalid.

Gooding did not deny that Judges was composed using earlier sources. Rather, he argued that trying to reconstruct those sources is probably a fruitless exercise. Instead, scholars should attend to the book as it actually exists—as a unified literary work.

When studied in this way, Judges reveals itself to be internally coherent and deliberately structured. In particular, Gooding argued that it is arranged chiastically, with the judges corresponding to one another and the story of Gideon at the center.

Gideon at the Center

Gooding pointed out numerous connections between the judges, including contrasts such as that between Othniel’s wife and Samson’s paramour (which we discussed in last week’s sermon). These stories rotate around Gideon.

Several patterns reinforce Gideon’s central role:

  • The length of the narratives increases as the book progresses, with the judges after Gideon receiving much more space than those before him.
  • The moral and political condition of Israel deteriorates noticeably after Gideon.
  • Earlier judges primarily fight Israel’s external enemies, while later judges increasingly fight fellow Israelites.
  • The book concludes with two extended stories that vividly portray Israel’s religious and political collapse.

All of this suggests careful literary design rather than accidental accumulation.

Gooding’s Outline of Judges

Here is how Gooding outlines the book:

A. Introduction — There is no Joshua in Israel: Politics (1:1–2:5)
B. Introduction — There is no Joshua in Israel: Religion (2:6–3:6)
C. Othniel — Wife leads to blessing (3:7–11)
D. Ehud (plus Shamgar) — A Comedy (3:12–31)
E. Deborah, Barak, Jael — Who is the judge? (4:1–5:31)
F. Gideon — The refusal of kingship (6:1–8:32)
E’. Abimelech — Who is the enemy? (8:33–10:5)
D’. Jephthah — A Tragedy (10:6–12:15)
C’. Samson — Wife leads to downfall (13:1–16:31)
B’. Epilogue — There is no king in Israel: Religion (17:1–18:31)
A’. Epilogue — There is no king in Israel: Politics (19:1–25)

At the center stands Gideon and his refusal of kingship—a pivotal moment in Israel’s history. From that point forward, the nation slides steadily toward chaos, setting the stage for the demand for a king in 1 Samuel.