Jael lay down on the thick wool-stuffed mattress with a loud sigh. She was tired – tired of life. Everywhere she turned there was trouble. Recently her neighbor’s herd of cows was stolen and the servant tending them was killed. A few months ago, her friend Anna had been raped.  

She knew who did it. It was those hoodlums from the north. This turmoil had been going on for a long time. The Hazor gang had been violating the women, stealing their property, and killing people for almost 20 years. 

Two weeks ago, Deborah sent a message to her. Deborah had asked Barak to gather a group of men to go and fight the gang from Hazor City. Her mind flooded with an image of daring Deborah. What a classy lady. She was smart, shrewd, brave – a good woman. When Deborah talked everyone listened, including the men.  She giggled out-loud at the thought. 

Today was the day of the battle. She prayed, Lord God, send power to your people as they fight. May they triumph over our enemies.

The sound of galloping and snorting interrupted her prayer.  Jumping to her feet she ran to the tent entrance. Dismounting his horse was a large, mean-looking man. She had seen him before. Sisera was his name, and he was the leader of the Hazor gang.  

In a split second she turned on her most sultry beguiling voice. “Why, look at you,” she demurred. “You look so tired. Come in and rest. Sit down right over here.” She motioned to a pile of pillows by the low table. Pulling off his boots, she talked softly the whole time. She covered him with a blanket. 

He said to her, “Please, a little water. I’m thirsty.” She opened a goat skin of milk, poured it into a bowl, and gave him a drink.

She hummed softly as she went about her ministrations. He visibly relaxed. Soon he was snoring loudly. 

She knew what she must do.  

Going to the storage area just outside the tent, she grabbed her weapon. She crept behind Sisera. With great skill and familiarity from the hundreds of times she had pitched her family’s tent, she took the tent stake in one hand and the hammer in the other. With one swift move she banged the stake into his skull.  One snort, then nothing. 

She had done it.  She had killed this man – this murderer of her neighbors and violator of her women friends. Blood spurted and oozed.  

Deborah and Barak sang a song that day about Jael:

Most blessed among women is Jael,
    the wife of Heber the Kenite.
    May she be blessed above all women who live in tents.
Sisera asked for water,
    and she gave him milk.
In a bowl fit for nobles,
    she brought him yogurt.
Then with her left hand she reached for a tent peg,
    and with her right hand for the workman’s hammer.
She struck Sisera with the hammer, crushing his head.
    With a shattering blow, she pierced his temples.
He sank, he fell,
    he lay still at her feet.
And where he sank,
    there he died. Judges 5:24-27

Most blessed among women is Jael.

This story is found in Judges 4-5. We tend to be repulsed at such violence, especially committed by a woman. However, Sisera was responsible for many rapes and deaths. What is your reaction to Jael? Could you, would you, have done what she did?