Behold Our God | Judges 6:33-7:25
Introduction
One author has said, “Stories are repositories of cultural wisdom.” The things that shape us more than anything else are the stories we tell and the stories we hear. Isn’t it true that the majority of our conversations involve stories? How many of you walked in this morning and by asking, “how are you?” or “how was your week?” are really saying, “tell me the story of your past week.”
Again, stories shape us. And the stories that shape us can be the lives of individuals or families, or they can be the epic stories that ring on through the centuries of history. And the stories that ring down are stories of underdogs—of small, heroic, and undermanned armies facing the odds. Which man among us hasn’t heard of brave King Leonidus and the mighty 300 Spartans who, at the Battle of Thermopylae, faced the Persian horde of 300,000? Or who hasn’t heard that incredible “band of brothers” speech of Henry V, written and romanticized by Shakespeare, on the eve of the famous Battle of Agincourt? These are epic stories indeed.
Our Lord, in his wisdom, knows that we are story-formed people. There are stories everywhere around us—like seasons changing, depicting death preparing for life again. That’s a story! And that is one of the reasons why the Lord instituted two sacraments for his church—one we celebrated last week, and one we just witnessed this morning. Both the baptism and the Lord’s Supper are meant to tell a story—the story of individual salvation and profession of faith, enacting the story of being buried with Christ and being identified with his resurrection, and the story of his body broken and his blood shed for you so that you might take, eat, remember, and believe all that has been done for you in Christ Jesus.
We are constantly surrounded by stories and we sit in a historical context that is shaped by generational history. History is more than just the study of people in a place who once did stuff. History is theological. It is the study of humans interacting with God, with each other, and with the world God made. That is the proper theological lens we should view all of history through. So we hear of King Leonidus or of King Henry V or the tales our grandparents tell, or even reflecting on our own personal history, we ought to view them and sift them for the golden wisdom of the Lord. What is good and glorious and should be emulated—courage, loyalty, laying down your life to protect those you love? What is wicked and should be avoided—sins of pride, vainglory, selfish ambition, deceit, etc.
In our text this morning, we have one of the epic stories that comes down to us from history. Another incredible tale of an against-all-odds victory, of complete underdogs defeating a superior force, and routing the enemy. But instead of relying on manuscript fragments from the ancient Herodotus, or the romancing retelling of history from Shakespeare, we actually have an inspired narrator. We get to read of Gideon and the mighty 300 from the lens of a Spirit-inspired writer who draws back the curtain and shows us what is going on in the minds and souls of the actors, informing us of the majesty and power and strength and faithfulness of the Lord, and of the weak-kneed, fearful, weakness of man.
Let us turn to that story now.
This is not, of course, the first epic story that we have in the Bible. Think of Moses and the Exodus narrative, or of when Israel fought the Amalekites and the battle depending on Moses raising his arms, or the crazy battle of Jericho, or when the Lord caused the sun to stand still to help Joshua defeat the Amorites.
Or think of just the first 6 chapters of Judges—we have read of Jael the wife of Heber put a tent peg through the temple of the commander of the Canaanite army, and of Shamgar who killed 600 Philistines with an oxgoad and also saved Israel—this book is wild.
But now we continue in the narrative of Gideon. How will God use him? How will God work to save Israel? Judges 6:1–32 defined for us the state of the nation—Israel is under the oppressive thumb of Midian. Like a plague of locusts, the Midianites swarm every year at harvest to take all of their produce. What a humiliating form of slavery: you do all the work and see none of the produce. And this forces them year after year to flee to the caves and hide what they need to survive. Awful.
Then we met Gideon—a nobody from nowhere whom God will make into the deliverer of the whole nation. Gideon will be the means by which the Lord will save the nation. And despite his fear and protest, we ended last week with him obeying God’s word and tearing down the baals and the asheroths in his father’s house, and setting up an altar to the Lord in their place—but all done at night.
Well, the battle of his father Joash’s idols is over; the battle for Israel is about to begin.
The stakes are now much higher, but the same thing is still required of Gideon—and it is the same that is required of you and of me. The likelihood of you or I being used by God to lead a small band of men to repel a wicked and massive incursion of evil-doers is very low—but we ought to be ready if God were to use us that way! But what will be required no matter what comes is to remember who God is, what he has done, who we are, and what he has called us to do—and to act by faith. Faith is always what is needed.
So what is going on here in this story? What are we to hold fast to? Here is what I believe is the main point the author is seeking to communicate in this section of the Gideon narrative… In our weakness, God is faithful to save.
The theme throughout the book of Judges is the faithfulness of God in spite of the sins of the people. God has promised to be with these people and protect and bless these people, because of the promises he made to Abraham. God uses crooked sticks to draw straight lines. The Lord’s strength is displayed in our weakness, demanding our confidence and allegiance. The faithfulness of the Lord is displayed in this passage not in spite of the weakness and fecklessness of Gideon, but through it. In fact, it is the weakness of Gideon and the nation that the Lord uses to magnify his glory and power.
We see clearly in this story the upside-down nature of our glorious God. What we see clearly is that our God uses the most unexpected ways, the most unexpected people to produce the most unexpected victories. That’s a comforting thought for all who are weak.
So as we examine this epic story, we are going to see 3 truths, 3 realities that are meant to remind us of the faithfulness and goodness of God towards us: the reality of our weakness, the glory of the Lord’s strength, and the wonder of our salvation.
The Reality of our Weakness
It is obvious throughout this story throughout the story of Judges that man, and in our story Gideon, is by nature frail and weak. Even though at the beginning of our text today we see him clothed with the Spirit of the Lord, leading to him gathering the people of Israel for war, it’s obvious that this is not his own natural courage, but supernatural. Throughout chapters 6 and 7 we see multiple examples of what kind of character Gideon really is.
And he said to him, “Please, Lord, how can I save Israel? Behold, my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house.”
—Judges 6:15
So Gideon took ten men of his servants and did as the LORD had told him. But because he was too afraid of his family and the men of the town to do it by day, he did it by night.
—Judges 6:27
Then Gideon said to God, “If you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said, behold, I am laying a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said.”
—Judges 6:36–37
That same night the LORD said to him, “Arise, go down against the camp, for I have given it into your hand. But if you are afraid to go down, go down to the camp with Purah your servant. And you shall hear what they say, and afterward your hands shall be strengthened to go down against the camp.” Then [Gideon] went down with Purah his servant to the outposts of the armed men who were in the camp.
—Judges 7:9–11
A simple word to define Gideon is skeptical. He is hearing and receiving all of this information from the Lord in different ways: directly, through an angel, through a prophet, and finally through some random soldier who just had a dream. And every time we see glimpses in Gideon of a begrudging obedience, there is also a steady and ever present skepticism if God will do what he said he will do.
I imagine there are some here who are in a season similar to what Gideon was at the beginning of chapter 6—in a deep darkness, wondering if there is a God and if he cares or is he good. But I also imagine there are a fair few who might be in a season of indecision, feeling frozen with where your life is or where it is headed or which way to turn. And I imagine all of us, if we were in Gideon’s shoes, would love to get some clear and consistent word from the Lord directly—go here, do this, I will be with you, and you will have success. And I’m sure we would also say something like, “If that were to ever happen to me, I would FOR SURE jump up, do whatever he says with no hesitations or doubts!”
The stubbornness of Gideon is a good reflection to us—no matter what, at the end of the day, we can not avoid the call to trust. Even with all the direct revelation from the Lord, he keeps testing God, and God graciously keeps meeting his tests and going along with his demands. Daniel Block, commenting on these tests says it this way…
Apparently Gideon has difficulty distinguishing between Yahweh, the God of the Israelites, and God in a general sense. The remarkable fact is that God responds to his tests. He is more anxious to deliver Israel than to quibble with this man’s semi-pagan notions of deity.
—Daniel Block
And notice, Gideon is doing his level-best to put on a brave and wise face and makes it seem like is really just trying to discern the will of God.
Then Gideon said to God, “If you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said, behold, I am laying a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said.”
—Judges 6:36–37
The will of God is clear. It’s been clear from the moment the Lord appeared to him and told him that he will lead the people against the Midianites. Again, Daniel Block is helpful…
The divine will is perfectly clear in his mind (v. 16). Gideon’s problem is that with his limited experience with God he cannot believe that God always fulfills his word. The request for signs is not a sign of faith but of unbelief. Despite being clear about the will of God, being empowered by the Spirit of God, and being confirmed as a divinely chosen leader by the overwhelming response of his countrymen to his own summons to battle, he uses every means available to try to get out of the mission to which he has been called.
—Daniel Block
Gideon is trying to manipulate God. He is attempting to use God’s creation as some divine code. And because our God is gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, he graciously interacts and continues to shepherd Gideon’s doubting heart back to trust him. The stories of his fathers and grandfathers are true—this God keeps his word, in the small things like in the fleece and in the big things of war, and he deserves their allegiance.
In our weakness, we just are so prone to doubt the goodness and faithfulness of God. In every trial and every circumstance, we are confronted again with the demanding question: “Is God good?” I know he has been in the past, but will he be faithful to his word and be good to me right now? And in every moment where we wish we had some special revelation from God, we have to ask, “Is God’s word to you in his revealed enough? Do you trust that his word is sufficient and authoritative for you right now in whatever you are facing?” We never move on from those questions! But by God’s grace, and because of his steadfastness and faithfulness, he will meet you in those moments and say “Yes!” So trust him—even in your weakness.
But the real glory of this passage is not how weak and untrusting and skeptical Gideon is, it is how great and mighty and glorious the strength of the Lord is.
The Glory of the Lord’s Strength
If there’s one biblical story I remember from when I was a little boy, it was the victory of the Lord through Gideon and his 300 men over the Midianites. I distinctly remember being in my home church’s version of Emmaus Road kids and Mrs. Vanden Bosch telling us the story, and handing out little flashlights to all of us 4 year olds, and someone pretending to blow a trumpet and yelling, “A sword for the LORD and for Gideon!” This story is awesome!
But again, we can only understand the gravity and power of the story when we contemplate the situation. The Midianite army is again here described as like locusts in abundance and camels without number (7:12). And Gideon and his 32,000 men (a sizable number!) are gathered to the south at the spring of Harod. Of course, strategically Gideon gathers his men by a stream to ensure that his force is refreshed to face the enemy. But remember, the narrator is always writing to us through a theological lens. The name of the spring, “Harod”, is derived from a Hebrew verb meaning, “to tremble”. This is “the spring of trembling.” Sure, they are gathered there and have responded to Gideon’s summons, but they are still terrified of the Midianites.
And this is when God begins to really go to work. Where Gideon and the Israelites are tempted to look at the Midianites and say, “They are too many!”, the Lord looks at the Israelites and says, “You are too many!” He doesn’t ease their anxiety by flooding in thousands and thousands of men from nowhere. He doesn’t change their circumstances. He actually makes it even more impossible by reducing their numbers.
And not just some large-ish reduction: the first cut is a 70% reduction in their fighting force. And the Lord says that that is STILL too many. The next cut isn’t another 70% cut—but 99.97% of the remaining 10,000 men are told, “Your services are not required. Thank you for coming. Go home. The 300 got this.”
Can you imagine the feeling of those remaining Israelites? You want to talk about a test of faith, how about watching 31,700 men be told to leave, and you’re still there, arming yourself for battle. Why? What’s the point? What is the Lord trying to do?
While the point is obvious, it is no less dramatic and glorious—the fewer the men, the greater the glory. But critically, the glory is not for the remaining 300, but to the only one who actually deserves the glory. The Lord himself! The numbers here are critical. The Lord didn’t just “reduce” the number of men, he effectively incapacitated the fighting force so that if any victory was going to happen, it was not going to come from the army. They are simply the means by which he will display his incredible power, strength, and might to the world. Like Elijah on Mt. Carmel flooding the altar with water—if it’s going to burn, it’ll need fire from heaven so it’s clear who has the power.
And we see in the actual battle scene itself that courage is finally realized as the men stand their ground. They join Gideon at the outskirts of the Midian camp and put their faith in the Lord. In this context, war was an act of worship, proclaiming that they trusted their God more than conventional battle strategies or the size of their fighting force. The result is Midian flees and the nation of Israel responds by pursuing.
Just as the epic stories have rung down through the ages, so too has this incredible victory of the Lord.
One can imagine the news of this dramatic victory spreading throughout the region. None of the surrounding nations could interpret the news and come to the conclusion: “Wow, those 300 men must have been something else!” Not at all. What they would instead interpret is this: “What kind of God does that nation serve who can whip out the entire Midian army with just 300 men!” The odds were so unbelievable that there must have been some external, miraculous source of their victory, and that God must be worthy of our allegiance too.
This is so like God. This is how he works. Behold, this is our God! The fearfulness and doubt and skepticism of Gideon and of Israel does not get the last word. They are simply the means by which the glory and majesty and power of God are put on display for the watching world to behold. And that same God has acted towards you in a similar way.
The Wonder of Our Salvation
What the Lord did for Gideon and the nation of Israel is just a type, just a small type of a much larger, much grander, much more glorious upside-down victory. As we’ve said, it is just so like God to tell the most dramatic and compelling stories—any story that you find dramatic and compelling finds its origins in the great redemptive story of God. This story of Gideon and his victory is meant to point you to a much great and much more glorious story.
You think 300 men against the Midian army is dramatic? How about one man, born to a virgin, growing up in obscurity, no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. That one man born with a single purpose—to receive upon himself the iniquity of us all, to bear upon his shoulders the stripes meant for you and for me, to receive in our place the very wrath of a holy God. Who could have dreamed that the answer to man’s greatest problem would be that our God would take on flesh, dwell among us, and live among us ultimately to die for us? That is shocking.
What is the darkest moment in history? Is it not when the innocent son of God incarnate was brutally and wrongfully murdered? When did all seem lost for the people of God? Was it not that first awful Good Friday? And yet—it was in that moment, that terrible, mysterious, dark, desperate moment that the Lord had planned from eternity past to finally put death to death, to crush the head of that evil dragon, and to glorify his Son, and secure for himself his people who he will never let go.
Paul interprets this scene in Romans 5:17
For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.
—Romans 5:17
You and I are weak, helpless, fearful. Yet this is the great and wonderful mystery—for our sake and against all odds, Christ Jesus took on our flesh, and took on our sin, so that we might receive the plunders of that war that we did not earn—life! Just like no Israelite could say after the battle, “look at what we have done!”, not one of us could say about our salvation, “look what I have done!” Why such a dramatic and full salvation? So that God and God alone gets the glory. Why such darkness? Because the darker the night, the more clearly we can see the glorious heavens above us, and the majesty of the Lord.
He alone is the victorious one. He alone demands our allegiance. Do you trust him? Reading the story of Gideon is incredible, but our response should not be, “I wish God would act that way towards me.” My friends, God has already acted towards you in a way that dwarfs Gideon’s 300-man victory. In Christ, your sin has been defeated, its price has been paid, you have peace with God and are a co-heir with Christ in all things. No matter the circumstance, come what man, you are victorious.
So remember the story of Gideon and the mighty 300, and behold how the Lord acted to save his people, and how in Christ, he has saved you. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.