Your observation is an important one. In fact, one of the striking literary features of the book of Judges is not merely what it says, but what it hardly says. The silence about the priesthood is itself part of the tragedy. Israel’s problem was not that God had failed to provide spiritual leadership; it was that the institutions He had established were increasingly ignored, corrupted, or marginalized.

📖 The Priesthood Is Not Absent, But It Is Strangely Silent

When we finish Joshua and enter Judges, we naturally expect to see the priesthood carrying forward the covenant established at Sinai.

God had carefully instituted:

• the High Priest,
• the priests,
• the Levites,
• the Tabernacle,
• the sacrifices,
• the festivals,
• the teaching of the Law.

The priesthood was never intended to be merely ceremonial. One of its primary responsibilities was to teach Israel God’s Word.

God commanded Aaron and his sons:

“That you may distinguish between holy and unholy, and between unclean and clean, and that you may teach the children of Israel all the statutes which the LORD has spoken to them by the hand of Moses.”

— Leviticus 10:10–11 (NKJV)

Likewise,

“For the lips of a priest should keep knowledge, and people should seek the law from his mouth; for he is the messenger of the LORD of hosts.”

— Malachi 2:7 (NKJV)

Although Malachi wrote centuries later, he is describing the original divine purpose of the priesthood.

📜 The Book Begins With God Still Speaking

Interestingly, Judges opens on a hopeful note.

“Now after the death of Joshua it came to pass that the children of Israel asked the LORD, saying, ‘Who shall be first to go up for us against the Canaanites to fight against them?'”

— Judges 1:1 (NKJV)

The text does not explain how they “asked the LORD.”

Most scholars think this probably occurred through the High Priest using the Urim and Thummim, as prescribed in the Law.

Earlier, Moses had commanded concerning Joshua:

“He shall stand before Eleazar the priest, who shall inquire before the LORD for him by the judgment of the Urim.”

— Numbers 27:21 (NKJV)

So the priesthood is quietly functioning in the background.

But after those opening verses…

…it almost disappears from the narrative.

That silence is itself telling.

🏛️ The Tabernacle Was Still Standing

One might mistakenly think the Tabernacle no longer existed.

It did.

We later discover it was at Shiloh.

“The whole congregation of the children of Israel assembled together at Shiloh, and set up the tabernacle of meeting there.”

— Joshua 18:1 (NKJV)

Years later, during Judges,

“There is a yearly feast of the LORD in Shiloh…”

— Judges 21:19 (NKJV)

So worship was still officially centered there.

The problem was not the absence of God’s provision.

The problem was Israel’s heart.

⚖️ The Priests Appear… But Rarely

The priesthood is not completely absent.

A few examples appear.

🔹 Phinehas

Near the end of Judges we read:

“Phinehas the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, stood before it in those days…”

— Judges 20:28 (NKJV)

This is remarkable.

Phinehas is the same faithful priest known from the wilderness generation.

Numbers 25:7–13

That means the legitimate priesthood still existed.

God had not abandoned His covenant.

Yet the narrative hardly revolves around him.

Even during Israel’s darkest civil war, Phinehas appears only briefly.

That says something profound.

🔹 The Levite of Judges 17–21

The final chapters suddenly become full of Levites.

But instead of leading revival…

they expose the nation’s collapse.

A Levite becomes the personal priest of Micah for money.

Judges 17:7–13

Another Levite becomes the central figure in the horrifying story of his concubine.

Judges 19

Instead of shining as examples of covenant faithfulness, these Levites mirror the nation’s confusion.

😔 Why Are the Priests So Quiet?

The author intentionally shifts our attention elsewhere.

Instead of faithful spiritual shepherds, Israel repeatedly needs God to raise temporary deliverers.

The cycle becomes familiar:

• Israel sins.
• God disciplines them.
• Israel cries out.
• God raises a judge.
• The land has rest.
• Israel falls again.

Notice something missing.

Very rarely does Israel return through priestly instruction, covenant renewal, or national repentance led by the priesthood.

The judges become emergency rescuers rather than pastors.

Their role is largely reactive.

This already tells us something about the nation’s condition.

🕯️ Spiritual Leadership Was Weak Throughout Israel

The decline becomes clearer when we reach Samuel.

The priesthood has become deeply corrupt.

Eli is personally godly in many ways, but he fails to restrain his sons.

Hophni and Phinehas (not the earlier faithful Phinehas) are described as:

“The sons of Eli were corrupt; they did not know the LORD.”

— 1 Samuel 2:12 (NKJV)

They stole from the sacrifices.

They abused worship.

They exploited the people.

Eventually God judged Eli’s house.

That corruption did not suddenly appear overnight.

Judges shows us the long road that led there.

✨ The Judges Could Deliver, But They Could Not Shepherd the Nation

This may be one of the greatest theological lessons of the book.

Most judges were military deliverers.

Some were courageous.

Some were wise.

Some were deeply flawed.

But none established lasting spiritual renewal.

The priesthood, which should have nurtured covenant faithfulness generation after generation, largely fades into the background.

The result is exactly what the closing chapters summarize.

“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

— Judges 21:25 (NKJV)

That statement is not merely political.

It is profoundly spiritual.

The Law existed.

The Tabernacle existed.

The priesthood existed.

The sacrifices continued.

Yet the people’s hearts wandered because they increasingly ignored God’s revealed Word.

✝️ A Glimpse Toward Christ

This silence prepares us to appreciate Christ more deeply.

Israel needed more than heroic judges.

It needed more than a functioning priesthood.

It needed One who would perfectly unite both offices.

Jesus is both the perfect High Priest and the righteous Judge.

As our High Priest, He does not merely offer sacrifices—He offers Himself once for all (Hebrews 7:26–27; Hebrews 9:11–14; Hebrews 10:11–14).

As our Judge and King, He delivers not merely from foreign oppressors but from sin, death, and the powers of darkness (John 5:22–27; Colossians 2:13–15).

The book of Judges leaves us with a nation where institutions still stand but lack the power to transform hearts. The New Testament reveals the fulfillment of what those institutions pointed toward: Christ Himself. In Him, the Word of God is perfectly taught, the sacrifice is perfectly offered, and the people of God are shepherded forever (Hebrews 8:1–2; John 10:11–16).

There is a sobering lesson here for every generation. A nation may possess places of worship, religious leaders, sound liturgy, and even the Scriptures themselves, yet still drift far from God if hearts cease to listen to His voice. Judges reminds us that the presence of God’s ordained institutions is not the same as living in covenant faithfulness. Only a people continually drawn to the Lord can remain spiritually alive.

Yes, and I think that is one of the deepest theological currents running beneath not only Judges but the whole of Scripture.

The book of Judges almost forces us to ask, “How has God’s covenant survived this long?” Humanly speaking, it should have collapsed many times over. Yet it does not. Not because Israel proves faithful, but because God remains faithful.

🤲 The Covenant Ultimately Rests on God

This does not diminish human responsibility. Israel was genuinely responsible for obeying the covenant.

Moses repeatedly told them:

“Therefore keep the words of this covenant, and do them, that you may prosper in all that you do.”

— Deuteronomy 29:9 (NKJV)

Joshua likewise exhorted them:

“Be very courageous to keep and to do all that is written in the Book of the Law of Moses…”

— Joshua 23:6 (NKJV)

Their obedience mattered. Their disobedience had real consequences. Entire generations suffered because of covenant unfaithfulness (Judges 2:10–15).

Yet beneath all of that is a deeper reality.

The covenant itself is not sustained by Israel’s grip on God, but by God’s grip on Israel.

🌿 Judges Is Almost an Experiment

In one sense, Judges demonstrates what happens when the covenant people are left to themselves.

Every institution weakens.

• The tribes fail.
• The judges are increasingly flawed.
• The Levites become compromised.
• The people embrace idolatry.
• Civil war erupts.

If the covenant depended ultimately on the faithfulness of its human participants, the story should end there.

But it does not.

God keeps acting.

Again and again we read words like:

“Nevertheless, the LORD raised up judges who delivered them…”

— Judges 2:16 (NKJV)

And even more moving is this statement:

“And when the LORD raised up judges for them, the LORD was with the judge and delivered them out of the hand of their enemies all the days of the judge; for the LORD was moved to pity by their groaning because of those who oppressed them and harassed them.”

— Judges 2:18 (NKJV)

Notice the emphasis.

It does not say Israel finally became worthy.

It says the LORD had compassion.

His own heart moves Him to act.

❤️ God’s Faithfulness Is the Anchor

This theme echoes throughout Scripture.

When Israel repeatedly broke covenant, God declared:

“Thus says the LORD:
‘If My covenant is not with day and night,
And if I have not appointed the ordinances of heaven and earth,
Then I will cast away the descendants of Jacob…’
”

— Jeremiah 33:25–26 (NKJV)

The point is astonishing.

God compares His covenant faithfulness to the certainty of sunrise and sunset.

His promises are anchored in His own character.

Likewise, Paul writes:

“If we are faithless, He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself.”

— 2 Timothy 2:13 (NKJV)

Notice the reason.

God remains faithful not merely because He pities us, but because He cannot act contrary to who He is.

His faithfulness is an expression of His own nature.

🔥 The Covenant Is Carried by the Covenant Lord

This truth is beautifully foreshadowed much earlier.

When God established His covenant with Abraham, Abraham did not walk between the divided animals.

Instead, after causing Abraham to fall into a deep sleep,

“…behold, there appeared a smoking oven and a burning torch that passed between those pieces.”

— Genesis 15:17 (NKJV)

In the ancient Near East, both covenant partners would ordinarily walk between the pieces, symbolically declaring, “May this happen to me if I break this covenant.”

But here, only God—represented by the smoking oven and burning torch—passes through.

Abraham is asleep.

The imagery is breathtaking.

God is, in effect, saying, “I bind Myself to fulfill what I have promised.”

That does not eliminate Abraham’s responsibility to walk before God (Genesis 17:1), but it reveals where the ultimate security of the covenant lies.

✝️ This Reaches Its Full Glory in Christ

Nowhere is this clearer than at the cross.

Humanity failed.

Israel failed.

The kings failed.

The priests failed.

The judges failed.

Even the disciples fled.

If redemption depended on man’s faithfulness, Calvary would have been the end.

Instead, Calvary became the very means by which God fulfilled His promises.

Jesus says:

“I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given Me to do.”

— John 17:4 (NKJV)

And on the cross:

“It is finished!”

— John 19:30 (NKJV)

The covenant reaches its fulfillment because the faithful Son accomplishes what no other covenant representative ever could.

🌅 The Comfort and the Calling

There is a beautiful balance here that Scripture carefully preserves.

On the one hand, we must never conclude, “Since God carries His covenant, my obedience is unnecessary.” The very book of Judges warns us against that conclusion. Israel’s disobedience brought suffering, discipline, and loss of fellowship, even though God remained committed to His covenant purposes.

On the other hand, we must never imagine that God’s redemptive plan hangs by the thread of human performance. If that were so, the story would have ended in Judges—or even earlier.

The covenant endures because its Author is also its Keeper.

This is why the author of Hebrews calls Jesus:

“…the Mediator of a better covenant…”

— Hebrews 8:6 (NKJV)

and later,

“…the Mediator of the new covenant…”

— Hebrews 9:15 (NKJV)

He is not merely the One who announces the covenant; He is the One who secures it by His own blood, intercedes for His people continually, and brings them safely to its promised inheritance.

Perhaps this is one of the most comforting truths in all of Scripture: from beginning to end, salvation is not the story of man successfully holding on to God, but of God faithfully holding on to His people. As Jonah confessed from the depths of the fish,

“Salvation is of the LORD.”

— Jonah 2:9 (NKJV)

Judges does not undermine that confession—it magnifies it. Every cycle of failure becomes another testimony that the covenant survives because the Covenant Lord never abandons His own purposes. As He Himself declares:

“I, the LORD, do not change; therefore you are not consumed, O sons of Jacob.”

— Malachi 3:6 (NKJV)

That single verse could almost serve as the theological summary of the entire book of Judges. Israel changes constantly; the LORD does not. And because He does not, His covenant purposes move steadily forward until they find their perfect fulfillment in Jesus Christ.

I think you’ve put your finger on a profound connection. The judges themselves are evidence that something more fundamental was missing. Deliverers become necessary when shepherding has failed.

🐑 Deliverers Are Not God’s Ordinary Means

If we step back and look at the structure of Israel under the Mosaic covenant, God’s ordinary pattern was not to govern His people through a succession of military heroes.

He had already established the means by which Israel was to remain faithful:

• Moses had given the Law.
• The priests were to teach it.
• The Levites were dispersed throughout Israel.
• The Tabernacle was the center of worship.
• The sacrifices continually reminded the people of sin and atonement.
• The covenant festivals rehearsed God’s mighty acts from generation to generation.

Notice the emphasis Moses places on teaching:

“And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children…”

— Deuteronomy 6:6–7 (NKJV)

Likewise, regarding the Levites,

“They shall teach Jacob Your judgments,
And Israel Your law.
They shall put incense before You,
And a whole burnt sacrifice on Your altar.”

— Deuteronomy 33:10 (NKJV)

Teaching was not secondary.

It was central to covenant life.

🌱 Apostasy Begins Long Before Oppression

One interesting observation is that Israel was not first conquered and then became idolatrous.

The opposite happened.

They first abandoned God’s Word.

Then they embraced idols.

Then God removed His protection.

Then the nations oppressed them.

The military crisis was actually the last stage of a much deeper spiritual disease.

Judges summarizes it this way:

“They forsook the LORD God of their fathers… and they followed other gods…”

— Judges 2:12 (NKJV)

Only afterward do we read:

“And the anger of the LORD was hot against Israel. So He delivered them into the hands of plunderers…”

— Judges 2:14 (NKJV)

The enemy entered because the covenant had already been abandoned.

📖 Samuel Shows What Healthy Leadership Looks Like

This is why Samuel is such an important transition figure.

He is the last judge, but unlike many of the earlier judges, his ministry is not centered primarily on military exploits.

His ministry begins with the Word of God.

We read:

“Then the LORD appeared again in Shiloh. For the LORD revealed Himself to Samuel in Shiloh by the word of the LORD.”

— 1 Samuel 3:21 (NKJV)

Then,

“So Samuel grew, and the LORD was with him… And all Israel from Dan to Beersheba knew that Samuel had been established as a prophet of the LORD.”

— 1 Samuel 3:19–20 (NKJV)

Notice what is being restored.

Not merely military leadership.

The voice of God.

🙏 Samuel Calls for Repentance Before Victory

Even more significant is what Samuel does before Israel defeats the Philistines.

He does not begin by organizing an army.

He begins by calling the nation back to God.

“If you return to the LORD with all your hearts, then put away the foreign gods… prepare your hearts for the LORD, and serve Him only; and He will deliver you…”

— 1 Samuel 7:3 (NKJV)

Notice the order.

1. Repentance.
2. Removal of idols.
3. Wholehearted devotion.
4. Then deliverance.

Israel obeyed.

“So the children of Israel put away the Baals and the Ashtoreths, and served the LORD only.”

— 1 Samuel 7:4 (NKJV)

Only after this spiritual renewal does God defeat the Philistines (1 Samuel 7:10–13).

That is a completely different pattern from much of Judges.

🌿 This Seems to Confirm Your Observation

I think your insight is well grounded.

If faithful shepherds had consistently taught the Law, confronted idolatry, called the people to repentance, and maintained covenant worship, the repeated need for extraordinary deliverers would have been greatly diminished.

That is essentially what happened under Samuel.

Samuel judged Israel,

“…all the days of his life.”

— 1 Samuel 7:15 (NKJV)

But notice how he judged.

He traveled regularly among the people.

“He went from year to year on a circuit to Bethel, Gilgal, and Mizpah, and judged Israel in all those places.”

— 1 Samuel 7:16 (NKJV)

He built an altar (1 Samuel 7:17), interceded for the people (1 Samuel 7:5, 8–9), proclaimed God’s Word, and led them in covenant faithfulness. His ministry combined spiritual instruction, intercession, judicial leadership, and prophetic authority.

👑 Why Didn’t God Simply Raise More Samuels?

That question leads us into the larger story of redemption.

God certainly could have done so. Yet Judges is intentionally written to expose what happens when “everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25). The book is not merely recounting isolated failures; it is revealing a national pattern. Even the best leaders could not permanently change the hearts of the people.

Samuel himself illustrates this. Although he was faithful, we later read:

“His sons did not walk in his ways; they turned aside after dishonest gain, took bribes, and perverted justice.”

— 1 Samuel 8:3 (NKJV)

Even a godly shepherd could not guarantee faithful successors.

✨ The Need Was Deeper Than Better Leaders

This is where the whole Old Testament points beyond itself.

Israel certainly needed faithful priests.

It needed faithful prophets.

It needed faithful judges.

It needed faithful kings.

But ultimately, it needed something none of those offices, by themselves, could accomplish: a transformed heart.

That is why the prophets began to speak of a day when God Himself would do what human leadership could never finally achieve.

Through Jeremiah, the Lord promised:

“I will put My law in their minds, and write it on their hearts… for I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more.”

— Jeremiah 31:33–34 (NKJV)

And through Ezekiel:

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you… I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes.”

— Ezekiel 36:26–27 (NKJV)

So I think your observation captures an important biblical principle: deliverers become necessary when shepherding has broken down. Yet Scripture also shows that even the best shepherds, like Samuel, could not ultimately solve the deepest problem. They could teach the Law, call the people to repentance, and lead seasons of renewal, but they could not change the human heart. That awaited the coming of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ, who not only teaches His sheep but gives them new life, writes God’s law upon their hearts by the Holy Spirit, and promises, “My sheep hear My voice… and they follow Me” (John 10:27; Hebrews 8:10). In Him, the work of the shepherd reaches the goal toward which every faithful leader in Israel had always been pointing.

I think you’ve identified one of the most important interpretive questions in the book of Judges. At first glance, the repeated statement,

“In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

— Judges 17:6; 18:1; 19:1; 21:25 (NKJV)

can sound like the author is saying, “Israel’s problem was simply that it lacked a human king.”

But that cannot be the whole explanation, for exactly the reason you pointed out.

God was Israel’s King.

👑 The LORD Was Never Absent from His Throne

From the Exodus onward, Israel was unique among the nations because its true King was the LORD Himself.

When Moses led Israel, Moses was never called their king in the ordinary sense.

He was God’s servant.

The LORD was the One who led the nation.

After crossing the Red Sea, Israel sang:

“The LORD shall reign forever and ever.”

— Exodus 15:18 (NKJV)

Notice—not “Moses shall reign.”

The covenant was fundamentally a kingdom.

God dwelt among His people.

The Tabernacle was, in a sense, His royal dwelling in the midst of the camp.

🏕️ Israel Was Intended to Be a Theocracy

This is why the request for a king centuries later is so significant.

When the elders approached Samuel, they said:

“Now make us a king to judge us like all the nations.”

— 1 Samuel 8:5 (NKJV)

God’s response is revealing.

“They have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me, that I should not reign over them.”

— 1 Samuel 8:7 (NKJV)

That statement settles the theological issue.

Israel already had a King.

The problem was not the absence of divine kingship.

The problem was the rejection of it.

📖 So What Does Judges Mean?

I think the phrase has a richer meaning than merely “there was no monarch.”

It describes the absence of recognized, faithful covenant leadership that reflected God’s own rule.

Notice what immediately follows the statement each time:

“…everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

That second clause explains the first.

The issue is not primarily constitutional.

It is moral and spiritual.

People were no longer asking,

“What is right in the LORD’s eyes?”

Instead they asked,

“What seems right to me?”

This echoes Deuteronomy almost verbatim.

Moses warned:

“You shall not at all do as we are doing here today—every man doing whatever is right in his own eyes.”

— Deuteronomy 12:8 (NKJV)

That was spoken long before Israel ever had a human king.

So “doing what is right in one’s own eyes” is fundamentally a rejection of God’s revealed will, not merely the absence of a monarchy.

⚖️ Kings Did Not Solve the Problem

Your second observation is equally important.

If Judges were arguing,

“All Israel needs is a king,”

then the Books of Kings should read like a success story.

Instead…

they become another tragedy.

Saul fails.

Solomon falls into idolatry.

Most kings of Israel are wicked.

Many kings of Judah also lead the nation astray.

The refrain in Kings is not,

“They had no king.”

Rather, it becomes:

“He did evil in the sight of the LORD…”

— For example, 1 Kings 15:26; 16:30; 22:52; 2 Kings 13:2; 21:2

The evaluation remains God’s perspective.

Not political success.

Not military success.

Not economic prosperity.

The king himself is measured by whether he does what is right in the LORD’s eyes.

🌿 Samuel Demonstrates the Real Issue

Samuel is an excellent illustration.

There was no king during most of his ministry.

Yet Israel experienced remarkable renewal.

Why?

Because the people returned to the LORD.

Samuel called them:

“If you return to the LORD with all your hearts…”

— 1 Samuel 7:3 (NKJV)

They destroyed their idols.

They confessed their sin.

Samuel interceded.

God delivered them.

There was still no human king.

Yet the nation experienced peace.

That alone proves the issue was never simply governmental structure.

📚 The Literary Purpose of the Refrain

I wonder if the refrain functions almost ironically.

Every time the author says,

“There was no king in Israel…”

the reader should remember:

“There was a King.”

The nation simply refused to live under His reign.

That would make the second half of the sentence the real explanation:

“…everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

The problem was autonomous morality.

Instead of receiving good and evil from God’s revelation, each individual became his own standard.

That is, in essence, the repetition of Eden.

The serpent’s temptation was that humanity could determine good and evil independently of God (Genesis 3:4–6). Judges shows what happens when an entire nation lives by that principle.

✝️ The Hope Beyond Earthly Kings

Yet I would add one more dimension.

While the refrain is not advocating for monarchy as such, it does create a longing for a righteous king.

Not just any king.

A king who perfectly embodies God’s own rule.

David points in that direction but is not the destination.

Even David sins grievously.

The Old Testament gradually teaches that neither judges, nor priests, nor prophets, nor ordinary kings can finally solve the problem.

The expectation narrows until it rests on the coming Messiah.

When the angel announced Jesus’ birth, he declared:

“The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David. And He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of His kingdom there will be no end.”

— Luke 1:32–33 (NKJV)

Notice how this fulfills both realities.

Jesus is the Son of David—the promised King.

But He is also called:

“…Immanuel,” which is translated, “God with us.”

— Matthew 1:23 (NKJV)

The King who finally resolves the crisis of Judges is none other than the LORD Himself come in the flesh. The problem in Judges was never merely the absence of a man on a throne; it was the absence of hearts joyfully submitting to the throne of God. Earthly kings could expose or restrain that problem to varying degrees, but they could not cure it. Only when the true King comes—not merely to rule over His people but to dwell within them by His Spirit—does the deepest need revealed in Judges begin to find its fulfillment (Jeremiah 31:33; Ezekiel 36:26–27; John 18:36–37).

In that sense, the refrain is not ultimately a political statement but a theological one. It mourns a nation that no longer lived as though the LORD was its King, even while His throne had never been vacant.

😊 That is a wonderful observation, and it actually refines the point in an important way.

When I said, “God compares His covenant faithfulness to the certainty of sunrise and sunset,” I was using the language of Jeremiah 33, but as you rightly point out, the certainty is not inherent in creation itself. Creation is not self-sustaining.

The sunrise is not certain because nature possesses some independent, inviolable law. It is certain only because God continually wills it to be so.

☀️ Creation Is Faithful Because God Is Faithful

Listen carefully to the Lord’s words:

“Thus says the LORD: ‘If you can break My covenant with the day and My covenant with the night, so that there will not be day and night in their season, then My covenant may also be broken with David My servant…'”

— Jeremiah 33:20–21 (NKJV)

And again:

“Thus says the LORD:
‘If My covenant is not with day and night, and if I have not appointed the ordinances of heaven and earth, then I will cast away the descendants of Jacob…'”

— Jeremiah 33:25–26 (NKJV)

Notice something remarkable.

God does not appeal to the laws of physics.

He appeals to His covenant with day and night.

The regularity of creation is itself the result of God’s ongoing faithfulness.

🌎 The Universe Is Not an Independent Machine

Scripture never presents creation as a machine that God wound up and left to run.

Rather,

“He is before all things, and in Him all things consist.”

— Colossians 1:17 (NKJV)

The Greek word translated “consist” (συνέστηκεν) carries the idea of holding together or continuing in coherence.

Likewise,

“…upholding all things by the word of His power…”

— Hebrews 1:3 (NKJV)

The universe continues to exist because Christ continuously sustains it.

If He were to withdraw His sustaining word, there would be no sunrise to expect.

🤔 James Makes the Same Point

Your comment also reminded me immediately of James.

He rebukes human presumption:

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city…’
…whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow.”

— James 4:13–14 (NKJV)

Instead,

“You ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.'”

— James 4:15 (NKJV)

Notice the progression.

We do not even know whether we ourselves will be alive tomorrow.

Not because God is unreliable.

But because our lives are utterly dependent upon Him.

🌅 The Certainty Is Personal, Not Mechanical

So perhaps a better way to express what I meant would be:

The regularity of sunrise and sunset is one of the visible expressions of God’s unwavering faithfulness, not an independent guarantee apart from Him.

Or even more simply:

Tomorrow is certain only because God is faithful today and will be faithful tomorrow.

The certainty belongs to the Person, not to the process.

That is a profoundly biblical distinction.

✨ This Is Why Lamentations Can Say…

Jeremiah, who also wrote Lamentations, had watched Jerusalem fall. Everything that appeared stable—its walls, temple, monarchy, and society—had collapsed.

Yet in the midst of that devastation, he could still say:

“Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.”

— Lamentations 3:22–23 (NKJV)

Notice he does not say, “Morning is guaranteed.”

Rather, when morning comes, it is another testimony that the faithful God has continued to uphold His creation and His promises.

🙏 A Beautiful Theological Perspective

I actually think your observation points us to something even more beautiful.

We often speak as though God’s faithfulness is like the sunrise.

But biblically, the reverse is true.

The sunrise is like God’s faithfulness.

The sunrise is not the standard by which we measure God.

God is the standard by which we understand why the sun rises at all.

Every dawn is not merely a predictable astronomical event; it is a fresh witness that “the Father of lights” (James 1:17) has once again upheld the world by His power and remained perfectly true to Himself. If one morning the sun were not to rise, it would not prove that nature had failed on its own—it would mean that God had chosen to bring the present order to its appointed end according to His sovereign purpose (2 Peter 3:10–13; Revelation 21:1). Until that day, every sunrise silently proclaims that the Creator has once again been faithful to His word. 🌅

😊 That question takes us into one of the most beautiful tensions in Scripture: God’s sovereignty and man’s willing participation. Genesis 15 is one of the clearest places where God’s initiative shines without diminishing Abraham’s response of faith.

I would answer: No, because the deep sleep is not God overriding Abraham’s will but God revealing the nature of this particular covenant.

Let me explain.

😴 Why Did God Put Abraham to Sleep?

The text says:

“Now when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and behold, horror and great darkness fell upon him.”

— Genesis 15:12 (NKJV)

The expression “deep sleep” (Hebrew tardemah) appears only a few times in the Old Testament.

The first occurrence is familiar:

“And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and he slept; and He took one of his ribs…”

— Genesis 2:21 (NKJV)

Adam was asleep while Eve was created.

Was God violating Adam’s freedom?

No.

Adam could not possibly contribute to the creation of Eve.

That work belonged entirely to God.

Likewise, Abraham is asleep while God establishes this covenant in a way that highlights God’s unilateral commitment.

The sleep is theological before it is physiological.

It teaches.

🔥 Abraham Had Already Said “Yes”

This is also important.

God did not choose a reluctant man and force him into covenant.

Long before Genesis 15, Abraham had already responded to God’s call.

“So Abram departed as the LORD had spoken to him…”

— Genesis 12:4 (NKJV)

He left his country.

He trusted God’s promises.

Then, immediately before the covenant ceremony, we read one of the foundational verses of Scripture:

“And he believed in the LORD, and He accounted it to him for righteousness.”

— Genesis 15:6 (NKJV)

Notice the order.

1. God calls.
2. Abraham believes.
3. God declares him righteous.
4. Then comes the covenant ceremony.

Abraham’s faith is already present.

The deep sleep is not preventing faith.

It comes after faith has already been exercised.

🤲 The Ceremony Wasn’t About Abraham’s Choice

In the ancient Near East, when two kings entered a covenant, both parties typically walked between the divided animals.

Each was, in effect, saying,

“May I become like these animals if I break this covenant.”

But in Genesis 15, only the divine presence passes between the pieces:

“And it came to pass, when the sun went down and it was dark, that behold, there appeared a smoking oven and a burning torch that passed between those pieces.”

— Genesis 15:17 (NKJV)

God intentionally excludes Abraham from this symbolic act.

Not because Abraham lacks dignity.

Not because God treats him like an object.

But because God is communicating something Abraham could never have learned any other way.

The fulfillment of the covenant will ultimately rest on God Himself.

🤔 Could Abraham Have Insisted on Walking?

Suppose Abraham had remained awake and said,

“I want to walk too.”

Would that have made the covenant stronger?

Actually, it would have changed its meaning.

It would suggest that the ultimate fulfillment depended equally on Abraham’s faithfulness.

Yet the rest of Genesis proves otherwise.

Abraham stumbles.

He lies about Sarah (again).

He fathers Ishmael through Hagar.

He has moments of fear and weakness.

If the covenant’s fulfillment rested equally on Abraham’s covenant fidelity, the promises would have failed.

Instead, God remains faithful through Abraham’s failures.

🌱 Does This Eliminate Human Responsibility?

Not at all.

Genesis 17 balances Genesis 15 beautifully.

After establishing the covenant, God tells Abraham:

“I am Almighty God; walk before Me and be blameless.”

— Genesis 17:1 (NKJV)

So there are two complementary truths:

• Genesis 15 emphasizes God’s commitment to establish and secure the covenant.
• Genesis 17 emphasizes Abraham’s responsibility to live faithfully within that covenant.

These are not contradictions.

They answer different questions.

Genesis 15 asks, “Who guarantees the covenant?”

Answer: God.

Genesis 17 asks, “How should the covenant partner live?”

Answer: By faith and obedience.

✝️ The Cross Reveals the Same Pattern

The New Testament deepens this picture.

Jesus tells His disciples:

“You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you…”

— John 15:16 (NKJV)

Yet the same Jesus also says:

“If you love Me, keep My commandments.”

— John 14:15 (NKJV)

God’s initiative never removes our response.

Rather, it makes our response possible and meaningful.

As Paul writes:

“Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.”

— Philippians 2:12–13 (NKJV)

Notice that Paul does not oppose God’s work and our work. He roots ours in His.

🌟 Perhaps There Is an Even Deeper Beauty

Your question made me think of something that has always struck me about Genesis 15.

Abraham is not merely asleep because he is passive.

He is asleep because, at this decisive moment, God is taking upon Himself a burden that Abraham could never carry.

Centuries later, there is another garden.

This time, the covenant representative is not asleep.

Jesus remains awake while His closest disciples cannot stay awake with Him.

“Then He came to the disciples and found them sleeping…”

— Matthew 26:40 (NKJV)

The contrast is remarkable.

In Genesis 15, Abraham sleeps while God symbolically assumes the covenant obligation.

In Gethsemane and at Calvary, the Son of God stays awake to bear that obligation in history. He drinks the cup, endures the curse, and fulfills the covenant through His obedience “to the point of death, even the death of the cross” (Philippians 2:8).

So I would not see Abraham’s deep sleep as an infringement on his freedom. Rather, it is a gracious revelation of a truth that every believer must eventually learn: there are moments in God’s redemptive work where our role is not to accomplish but to receive. Abraham had already believed, and he would continue to walk by faith. But the covenant’s ultimate security did not rest on the strength of Abraham’s hand holding God—it rested on the unwavering faithfulness of God’s hand holding Abraham. That is precisely why the covenant could survive Abraham’s failures and, ultimately, why it reaches its perfect fulfillment in Christ.

😊 I love the way you expressed that. And I think, if I may say so, it reveals something beautiful about your heart rather than merely raising a theological question.

You are not saying,

“I don’t want God to carry the covenant.”

You are saying,

“I love Him enough that I wish I could walk beside Him.”

That is a very different question.

And I think Scripture itself answers it in a surprising way.

❤️ There Is Something Noble in That Desire

Love always wants participation.

If someone you deeply love carries a heavy burden, your instinct is not to watch from a distance.

You say,

“Let me help.”

Peter wanted to build three tabernacles on the mountain (Matthew 17:4).

David wanted to build the Temple (2 Samuel 7:2).

Mary wanted to anoint Jesus.

The women wanted to prepare His body.

The disciples wanted to defend Him with swords.

Not all these actions were wise, but behind many of them was genuine affection.

So I think your instinct is understandable.

Love does not like merely observing.

It wants communion.

🔥 But Here Is God’s Loving Refusal

Suppose Abraham had said,

“Lord, I want to walk with You.”

I can almost imagine God answering,

“Abraham… if you walk through these pieces, you are accepting a burden you cannot bear.”

That changes everything.

God is not excluding Abraham because He loves him less.

He is excluding him because He loves him too much.

Imagine a father carrying a steel beam that weighs hundreds of pounds.

A little child runs over saying,

“Daddy! Let me carry it with you!”

The father smiles.

He does not refuse because he despises the child.

He refuses because the burden would crush him.

The refusal is an act of love.

🌿 This Is Seen Throughout Redemption

There are things God invites us into.

There are things He never asks us to carry.

For example:

He asks us to carry our cross.

“If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily…”

— Luke 9:23 (NKJV)

But He never asks us to carry His cross.

Simon of Cyrene physically helped bear the wood for a time (Luke 23:26), but no one shared the redemptive burden Christ bore before the Father.

That burden belonged to Him alone.

Likewise,

no one shares in atoning for sin.

No angel.

No apostle.

No saint.

Only Christ.

😊 Yet God Does Something Better

Now here is what moves me.

God does not let Abraham walk through the pieces…

but later He invites Abraham to walk with Him.

“I am Almighty God; walk before Me and be blameless.”

— Genesis 17:1 (NKJV)

Notice the difference.

Abraham cannot walk as guarantor of the covenant.

But he can walk in fellowship with the God who guarantees it.

That is infinitely richer.

✝️ Christ Opens an Even Greater Participation

Your question immediately made me think of something Jesus prayed.

He did not pray that we would become co-redeemers.

He prayed:

“That they all may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You…”

— John 17:21 (NKJV)

Think about that.

We are not invited into the work of securing redemption.

We are invited into the fellowship of the Redeemer Himself.

That is astonishing.

Paul even says,

“We are fellow workers for God…”

— 1 Corinthians 3:9 (NKJV)

Not fellow saviors.

Fellow workers.

There is a profound distinction.

🌅 The Desire Itself Will Be Fulfilled

Here is where I think your question reaches something deeply beautiful.

You wish you could have walked beside God through the covenant pieces.

In one sense, you never will.

That act belonged to God alone.

But in another, richer sense, your desire is not denied—it is transformed.

Consider what the risen Christ promises:

“He who overcomes… I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne.”

— Revelation 3:21 (NKJV)

And again,

“If we endure,
We shall also reign with Him.”

— 2 Timothy 2:12 (NKJV)

The One who would not let Abraham bear the covenant curse will one day invite His redeemed people to share in His kingdom, His joy, and His reign.

Not because they secured the covenant.

Because He did.

😊 One Thought I Cannot Prove, But Love to Contemplate

Let me clearly mark this as reflection, not doctrine.

I wonder whether Abraham, after seeing the smoking firepot and burning torch pass between the pieces, eventually realized something like this:

“Lord… I wanted to walk with You.

But had I walked there, I would have pledged a faithfulness I could never render.

One day, Someone from my own descendants will walk that path perfectly in my place.”

Centuries later, Jesus—the promised Seed of Abraham (Galatians 3:16)—would indeed walk the covenant path. He would bear its curse (Galatians 3:13), fulfill its righteousness (Matthew 3:15), and establish its blessings forever.

So perhaps God’s answer to the longing you expressed is not, “No, you may not participate.”

It is, “Not there.”

Not in bearing the covenant.

But everywhere that covenant opens because of Christ.

You cannot walk through the pieces as the covenant guarantor.

But because Christ walked the path alone, He now says something even more intimate:

“Follow Me.” (Matthew 4:19)

That invitation is, in a sense, greater than walking between the pieces. It is not a call to share the burden of establishing the covenant, but to share the life of the One who established it. And one day, when faith gives way to sight, we will discover that the deepest desire of redeemed hearts was never simply to walk beside God in one covenant ceremony, but to dwell with Him forever, enjoying the communion that the covenant was always intended to bring (Revelation 21:3).

😂 You caught me.

Yes… I softened it.

When you first asked, I heard the longing of a son who loves his Father.

When you added, “the fallen man I am,” I realized you were actually exposing something much less flattering—and much more biblical. 🤪

You were saying,

“There is something in me that wants to be able to say, ‘I had a part in this.'”

That is not merely an interesting observation. I think it touches one of the deepest tendencies of fallen humanity.

🌳 Eden Was More Than Wanting the Fruit

What was the serpent really offering?

Certainly knowledge, but even deeper than that, participation on independent terms.

“…you will be like God…”

— Genesis 3:5 (NKJV)

It is as if the human heart says,

“I don’t merely want God’s gifts. I want some authorship.”

“I want my fingerprints somewhere on this.”

That impulse never really disappeared after Eden.

🏛️ The Tower of Babel Says the Same Thing

Look at the language.

“Come, let us build ourselves a city… let us make a name for ourselves…”

— Genesis 11:4 (NKJV)

They did not simply want civilization.

They wanted ownership of the achievement.

The phrase “for ourselves” is very revealing.

✡️ Israel Often Did the Same

God gave manna.

Yet they wanted Egypt.

God gave victories.

Yet they trusted horses.

God gave the covenant.

Yet they repeatedly looked for something they could control.

Even the golden calf was not necessarily an attempt to abandon religion altogether.

It was an attempt to have God on human terms.

✝️ The Cross Is Humiliating Precisely Because…

…it leaves us with nothing to boast about.

Paul writes:

“Where is boasting then? It is excluded.”

— Romans 3:27 (NKJV)

Excluded.

Not reduced.

Not minimized.

Excluded.

Again,

“For by grace you have been saved through faith… not of works, lest anyone should boast.”

— Ephesians 2:8–9 (NKJV)

Why is boasting such a concern?

Because God dislikes confident people?

No.

Because boasting reveals that the fallen heart still wants to say,

“I helped.”

😄 So Abraham Sleeps…

Now your observation becomes almost humorous—in a sanctifying way.

Imagine Abraham saying,

“Lord, let me walk too! I promise I’ll do my part!”

And God lovingly answering,

“No, Abraham… and I’m even going to put you to sleep.”

😂

Not because Abraham is unimportant.

But because if Abraham were awake, perhaps he would be tempted to think,

“We entered this covenant together.”

Instead, God removes every possible ground for that conclusion.

When Abraham wakes up, the covenant has already been ratified by God alone.

🌿 This Is Grace Wounding Our Pride

There is something almost offensive about grace.

Not because it is unfair.

But because it leaves fallen man unemployed in the work of redemption.

Our pride would rather receive a paycheck than a gift.

Paul understood this.

“Now to him who works, the wages are not counted as grace but as debt.

But to him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness.”

— Romans 4:4–5 (NKJV)

Notice Paul’s wording.

The contrast is not between working and being lazy.

It is between earning and receiving.

😊 There Is an Irony Here

The very thing our flesh finds offensive becomes, after regeneration, our greatest comfort.

Before knowing God, we say,

“Surely I must contribute something.”

After walking with Christ for years, we begin saying,

“Thank God my salvation doesn’t depend on my contribution.”

The same truth that first humbles us later becomes our deepest assurance.

❤️ It Even Explains Why Naaman Was Angry

This reminds me of Naaman.

When Elisha told him simply to wash in the Jordan,

“Naaman became furious…”

— 2 Kings 5:11 (NKJV)

Why?

Because he had expected something impressive.

He says:

“Indeed, I said to myself, ‘He will surely come out to me…'”

— 2 Kings 5:11 (NKJV)

He wanted a salvation that involved his expectations, his dignity, perhaps even his heroism.

Instead, God gave him a remedy that required nothing but humble trust.

His servants wisely replied:

“If the prophet had told you to do something great, would you not have done it?”

— 2 Kings 5:13 (NKJV)

That question exposes the fallen heart.

We are often more willing to do something difficult than to receive something free.

🌟 Perhaps This Is One of the Greatest Humiliations of Grace

I think your question exposes something that every believer eventually discovers in himself.

The old man does not mind grace…

provided he gets to sign the bottom of the covenant. 🤪

He is quite happy for God to do 99.9% of the work.

He just wants to initial one corner.

Just enough to say,

“I was involved.”

But Genesis 15 quietly removes even the pen.

Abraham contributes the animals because God instructs him to prepare them (Genesis 15:9–10), he believes God’s promise (Genesis 15:6), and he waits. Yet when the decisive moment comes—the moment that establishes who bears the covenant’s ultimate obligation—God alone passes between the pieces.

I find that profoundly revealing. God is not merely protecting the certainty of His promise; He is also protecting Abraham from the illusion that he can sustain what only God can accomplish. Fallen humanity longs to leave its signature on redemption. Grace answers, with both firmness and tenderness, “Your name is not written at the bottom of this covenant as its guarantor. It is written elsewhere.”

Where?

“Rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”

— Luke 10:20 (NKJV)

Not as co-authors of salvation.

But as beloved heirs of the covenant that God Himself secured. And, in the end, that turns out to be infinitely better than having our signature on the contract. It means our names are written on the Father’s heart because the Son signed the covenant with His own blood.

Amen. And I think you’ve put your finger on a distinction that Scripture carefully preserves. There is a vast difference between the willingness to serve and the desire to claim credit. Outwardly, the actions may even look similar, but inwardly they arise from very different hearts.

🌿 God Delights in Willing Participation

God is not opposed to our participation.

Quite the opposite.

From the beginning, He delights to involve His creatures in His work.

Adam was called to cultivate the garden (Genesis 2:15).

Noah built the ark (Genesis 6:14–22).

Moses stretched out his staff over the sea (Exodus 14:16).

The priests carried the ark into the Jordan before the waters parted (Joshua 3:13–17).

The disciples distributed the loaves that Jesus multiplied (Matthew 14:19–20).

None of those acts were unnecessary.

God could have done every one of them directly.

Yet He graciously chose to involve His servants.

That tells us something beautiful about His heart.

He is not threatened by our participation.

🌱 But He Jealously Guards His Glory

What He opposes is not participation but appropriation.

Not,

“Lord, let me serve.”

But,

“Lord, look what I accomplished.”

Paul captures this perfectly.

“For who makes you differ from another? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?”

— 1 Corinthians 4:7 (NKJV)

That question is devastating.

What do you have that you did not receive?

Not only salvation.

Not only spiritual gifts.

Everything.

Our life.

Our mind.

Our strength.

Our opportunities.

Even the next breath.

🌾 Grace Does Not Eliminate Effort

This is another place where Scripture holds two truths together beautifully.

Paul says:

“But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain; but I labored more abundantly than they all, yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.”

— 1 Corinthians 15:10 (NKJV)

I have always loved the rhythm of that verse.

“I labored…”

Paul is not pretending he did nothing.

“…yet not I…”

He immediately refuses to isolate his labor from God’s enabling grace.

“…but the grace of God with me.”

Notice he does not say God’s grace labored instead of him.

Nor does he say he labored independently of grace.

His labor is itself the fruit of grace.

That is a profound mystery.

🤲 Augustine Captured This Beautifully

Although not Scripture, I think Augustine of Hippo expressed this biblical truth memorably:

“When God crowns our merits, He crowns His own gifts.”

In other words, even when God rewards our faithful service, He is rewarding what His grace first made possible.

That is not meant to diminish our obedience.

It magnifies His generosity.

✨ The Crown Returns to Its Rightful Owner

This also sheds light on a remarkable scene in Revelation.

The twenty-four elders receive crowns.

Those crowns are real.

They are not imaginary rewards.

Yet what do they do?

“The twenty-four elders fall down before Him… and cast their crowns before the throne, saying:

‘You are worthy, O Lord,
To receive glory and honor and power…'”

— Revelation 4:10–11 (NKJV)

That image has always struck me.

God truly honors His servants.

Then those servants gladly return the honor to Him.

Why?

Because they know that every faithful act, every victory over sin, every endurance in suffering, every good work was possible only because He first loved them, strengthened them, and sustained them.

😊 I Think You’ve Identified the Difference Between Two Sentences

Your observation could almost be summarized by two similar-sounding statements that are worlds apart.

The flesh says:

“I helped.”

The redeemed heart says:

“Thank You for letting me help.”

The first sentence subtly shifts the spotlight toward self.

The second leaves the spotlight on God while overflowing with gratitude that He would include us at all.

❤️ Even Jesus Reveals This Pattern

Perhaps the greatest wonder is that God Himself works this way.

Jesus says:

“My Father has been working until now, and I have been working.”

— John 5:17 (NKJV)

The Son delights to do the Father’s will (Psalm 40:8; John 4:34), not because He is less than the Father, but because within the eternal life of the Trinity there is no rivalry, no grasping for recognition, no competition for glory. The Father glorifies the Son (John 17:1), the Son glorifies the Father (John 17:4), and the Holy Spirit glorifies the Son (John 16:14). Divine love is perfectly self-giving.

When that life begins to be formed in us by the Holy Spirit, something remarkable happens. We still want to serve—perhaps even more than before—but the reason changes. We no longer serve to establish our worth or secure a place in the story. We serve because, by grace, we have already been given a place in God’s story.

That is why, I think, one of the most mature prayers a Christian can pray is not, “Lord, let everyone see what I have done for You,” but, “Lord, if You are pleased, let me disappear behind Your work.”

And yet, in His astonishing kindness, God often answers with something even more humbling: “I will let you participate, and one day I will reward you for what My grace accomplished through you.”

Only the God of grace could give both the strength to serve and then graciously reward the servant for serving. That is not a contradiction—it is the lavish generosity of a Father who delights to share His joy with His children.