The war was over… but the victory was hollow. Ashes still stained the fields of Benjamin, and the silence that followed the battle felt heavier than war itself.
At Mizpah, the men of Israel sat before the Lord — weary, broken, and filled with regret.
Tears streamed down their faces as they lifted their voices and cried, "O Lord, God of Israel, why has this happened? Why should one tribe be missing from Your people today?"
But their own oath chained them — for they had sworn that not one of their daughters would ever marry a Benjamite.
At dawn, they built an altar and offered sacrifices — burnt offerings for repentance and fellowship offerings for peace. Still, their hearts ached. One tribe of Israel was nearly gone.
So they asked among themselves,
"Who did not come to Mizpah before the Lord?"
For another oath had been made — that any who refused to join the assembly at Mizpah would be put to death.
When they counted the tribes, they discovered that no one from Jabesh Gilead had come. So, twelve thousand warriors were chosen and sent with grim instructions:
"Strike Jabesh Gilead. Kill every man and every woman who has lain with a man.
Spare only the young virgins."
When the soldiers returned, they brought back four hundred young women —untouched, frightened, and trembling — and took them to the camp at Shiloh in Canaan.
Then the elders sent word to the six hundred Benjamites who still hid at the Rock of Rimmon, offering peace and mercy.
The survivors came down — hollow-eyed men who had lost everything — and they were given the women from Jabesh Gilead.
But even then… there were not enough.
The elders grieved deeply, saying, "Today the Lord has made a gap in the tribes of Israel. How can we find wives for the rest of them? We cannot give our own daughters, for we swore before the Lord that anyone who does so is cursed."
Then one of them spoke, his eyes suddenly lighting up with an idea.
"There is an annual festival of the Lord at Shiloh, north of Bethel and east of the road to Shechem. Let the men of Benjamin hide in the vineyards. When the young women come out dancing, let each man seize one for himself and return to the land of Benjamin."
The plan was strange — desperate — but it was the only way to preserve the tribe.
So, when the festival came, the young women of Shiloh danced in the fields, laughing in joy before the Lord and from the shadows, the Benjamite men watched.
When the music rose, they rushed from the vineyards — each man catching a dancing maiden and carrying her off as his wife.
The cries of surprise filled the air, but the elders defended the act, saying to the families, "Be gracious. You did not give your daughters; they were taken. You are guiltless."
So the remnant of Benjamin returned home.
They rebuilt their cities from the ruins and began again — scarred, but alive.
When it was done, the people of Israel returned to their homes, each to his tribe and inheritance.
And so the book ends with the haunting truth that echoed across generations:
"In those days, Israel had no king;
everyone did what was right in his own eyes."