Don’t Lose Sight of the Source of your Strength

(Judges 13-16)

Like me, I doubt many of you can remember what it was like to not be able to walk or ride a bike. When we grow or learn a new skill, it’s easy for us to forget what it was like before we knew how to carry it out. We can also then forget or overlook those who helped us learn or acquire that skill or ability.

As we wrap up our series on Samson, that’s one of the things we want to take into consideration. But we want to remember not just those in general who have helped us get to where we are today, but that ultimately it is always the Lord who provides us with what is needed to accomplish or achieve anything through us (and oftentimes in spite of us!).

We see that in Samson. But as we close out our series on Judges, let’s take moment to recap the takeaways from each of the judges God raised up. Amidst the recurring pattern of Israel spiraling into wickedness and being handed over to her enemies as a result, the cry to the Lord for deliverance – no matter how disingenuous or short-lived it was each time – was answered by God in unique ways. Through Deborah and Barak, God reminded us that his promises don’t need to be propped up – they stand on their own because he has made them. Through Gideon the Lord showed that he can do a lot with a little. In the shameful example of Abimelech we saw what happened when God was not a part of the plan. Using Jephthah, God led us to reflect on the ultimate turnaround story, that he can bring rescue through a reject. Where does Samson fit in with all of this? He reminds us not to lose sight of the source of our strength. 

It’s really phenomenal when you think about it – how easily we swing from insecurity to overconfidence. Gideon displayed it. Remember how many times timid and insecure Gideon asked for a sign from the Lord to reassure him? Then, when all was said and done, insecure Gideon became too-secure-in-self Gideon and allowed an idol to become a snare. He wrestled with insecurity, but after the Lord worked out a divinely decisive victory against the Midianites, Gideon suddenly found himself looking in the mirror instead of to the Lord. 

We’ve been there. It starts out as a source of insecurity or weakness. Then, as we give attention to it, as we work on it, as we develop it or overcome it, it actually becomes a strength. At one point the sheer thought of speaking in front of even a few people was mortifying, but you’d never know it when you listen to the polished public speaker give a TED talk. The athlete who couldn’t even make the cut for the high school team ends up as one of the most successful to ever compete in the sport. He was a college dropout who went on to start up his own company and earn millions. We’ve heard all kinds of such stories – they are a dime a dozen. And if even on some smaller scale, we’ve likely experienced something similar that resulted in success later on.

The problem, though, is that in the midst of all of our hard work and our commitment and our success, we quickly gloss over the fact that it was God who granted it all, that He was and is the source of our strength and that only with his blessing could we have achieved any of it! It’s not unlike the mom or dad hiking up a mountain trail with their small child strapped in on their back. They make it up to the top, where the child excitedly announces, “I did it!” Mom or dad did all of the work, but you wouldn’t know it by listening to the child’s self-proclaimed achievement. 

The apostle Paul points out the absurdity of such a claim when he asks the rhetorical question in 1 Corinthians 4, verse 7, “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?” All that we are, all that we have, all that we achieve, is from God! Yet, like the little child carried to the top of the mountain, we are so quick to celebrate what “we” just did!

And it isn’t just a matter of spiritual amnesia, of forgetting to give glory to God by acknowledging him and thanking him for our growth, but it also leads us to look differently at others whose present situation might be exactly where our past situation was. How quickly we forget that we were once there and how impatient we become when they don’t exhibit the same strength that we now have! We don’t say it out loud, but we think to ourselves, “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen them at church, and it’s not because I’m the one who hasn’t been here every Sunday…” We might even express shock or surprise that someone else struggles with a particular sin that hasn’t troubled us for some time. We feel pretty good about our marriage as we look at others struggling to keep it together, forgetting that we’ve had more than our share of challenges, too. A weakness turns to a strength, and we arrogantly credit ourselves with the turnaround, rather than remembering that God is the one who worked it. We flex our own muscle instead of pointing to our Savior’s strength. 

Samson had gotten used to it. The Lord had endowed him with the strength of a superhero, and he had gotten used to it. It was his identity. He was the strong man, feared by the Philistines. So easily had he forgotten the source of his strength – the Lord. And so easily did he stumble when faced with his weakness: women. Twice, a combination of his attraction to the opposite sex and his self-confidence instead of his God-confidence resulted in Samson letting his guard down. The first time it led him to leak the answer to a riddle that eventually found its way to his enemies. The second time was a much costlier mistake – resulting in his hair being cut and being taken captive and having his eyes gouged out by his enemies. Had Samson more readily remembered the Lord and not been so quick to rest on his own laurels, perhaps he would have been more guarded in each case and not ended up being taken advantage of. 

But here’s the remarkable thing about God – he used Samson anyway! In both instances, it was the Philistines who ended up on the receiving end of the Lord’s wrath through Samson. At this point in the book of Judges, it shouldn’t surprise us at all that God still manages to carry out his work of deliverance through flawed individuals – it’s what we’ve seen again and again from him. So then, even when the individual fails to give glory to God, or at least is slow to do so, God doesn’t necessarily give him the pink slip and call on his HR team to hire someone else more worthy. God even uses those who forget to give him the credit to accomplish what he desires.

He still does today. God has used and will continue to use the secular world to serve his sanctified purposes. While the secular world won’t acknowledge God’s strength, that doesn’t keep God from using it to bless his people. He can do it through governments, through institutions and organizations, through relationships, through resources, etc. – all to serve his people and his kingdom. Through the world he shows his strength, even though the world doesn’t acknowledge him.

And through the Church, too, he shows his strength… or should we say in spite of the Church? The pastor refers to his church, as if he’s the one who built it. Church members refer to pastor so-and-so’s church, as if to overlook that God placed that pastor into that ministry. Christian leaders point to what they’ve achieved by this ministry plan or taking that approach, neglecting to credit God with the one doing all the work and blessing it with success.

The Lord is the source of our strength, and you know where he shows it best? In his Word and sacraments, where he pronounces forgiveness to Samson-like sinners who miserably fail again and again when leaning on their own strength. When our puffed-up pride is exposed and blown apart like a straw house, Jesus is there to pick up the pieces again and again with the mighty strength of salvation and forgiveness. It’s not in his polished six-pack abs – but in absolution – where God displays his muscle. Grace – not gold medals – is how God shows greatness. Forgiveness – not flexing – is how God demonstrates his strength. 

Samson was set apart by God from birth, but he failed to grow much at all in his faith by seeing the Lord as the source of his strength. He lost sight of the source of his strength. It wasn’t until the day of his death that he recognized it and in repentance humbly asked the Lord to grant him the strength for one final strike against the Philistines. God granted his request, and as the columns collapsed under Samson’s God-given brute strength, he ended up killing more Philistines by his own death than he did altogether during his life. 

Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t wait until your dying day to tap into the tools God gives you to maximize his strength. They’re at your disposal right now, every Sunday in worship, every day in the Word, every other week in the Sacrament. Let him strengthen you. Let God show you what he can do through his Church when we rely not on our own sham strength, but on the strength of our Savior and his salvation. We may not remember what it was like to not be able to walk or ride a bike, but let’s never forget that the Lord is – and always will be – the source of our strength.

Rescued by a Reject

(Judges 11:1-14, 27-40)

Would you have done it? Would you have answered the call when they came pleading for you to come to their rescue? Or would you have stewed and ruminated on their words of rejection for so long that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it? Remember, these were the ones who coldly cast you out, rejecting you with the words, “You are not going to get any inheritance in our family, because you are the son of another woman” (Judges 11:2). It wasn’t your fault that dad had slept with a prostitute and you were the result, but it didn’t matter; they had rejected you. But now they were requesting you, begging you, needing you to come to their aid when under attack from the Ammonites. “Come, be our commander, so we can fight the Ammonites” (v.6). Would you have done it?

By now we’re used to some unique details and stories surrounding the judges the Lord has raised up for his people. Jephthah is no exception. What stands out most are two things: 1) he was rejected, only to later be requested for a rescue mission from the very folks who rejected him, and 2) he made – and carried out – a vow that not only tugs at our hearts, but also leaves us scratching our heads. Yet there is also something Jephthah has in common with the previous judges God raised up to rescue his people, which stands out because of its general absence among God’s people: Jephthah’s relationship with the Lord. Before even accepting the invitation to lead the battle against the Ammonites, he acknowledged that any victory would be because the Lord gave it (v.9). He then made it a point to show his dedication to the Lord in official capacity at Mizpah (v.11). In his message to the king of the Ammonites, he had recalled the background of how the Lord had led and directed his people to the land where they presently were (vs. 15-26). Finally, the vow he made to make a burnt offering to the Lord, although it ended tragically, was a type of sacrifice that Israelites would offer up to show their commitment and dedication to the Lord, which was sadly such a rare sight during these times of Israel’s history. 

As the account unfolds and we see how Jephthah responds to the pleas for deliverance, it gives us opportunity to consider our own actions in the face of rejection. We’ve all experienced it to some degree. It may have been the sting of being the last pick on the playground, where no one actually chose you, but they were stuck with you. It may have been a relationship in which you were rejected in favor of someone else. Your input was rejected for an upcoming project at work, and so you weren’t part of that team. You never felt – and maybe still don’t! – like you were good enough for one or both of your parents. 

But then something changed, either in their situation or yours, that resulted in a second opportunity. Now the ones who were so quick to dismiss you are the same ones who need you. The temptation is there, isn’t it – it would feel so good to get them back, to leave them high and dry and get even by turning the tables and telling them to go take a long walk off a short pier. “If I wasn’t good enough then, don’t come groveling to me now – go find someone else.” We relish the idea of seeing them get their just desserts.

We don’t, however, see that in Jephthah. Yes, he does initially remind them that they had turned him away in the past, but that was as much to convict them as it was to puff himself up. He didn’t let his own pride stand in the way of serving the greater good, and more importantly, his great God, by coming to the rescue of his people. He went and he seized the opportunity to show the Israelites what is possible when the spotlight is rightly restored on the only One who deserves it – the Lord.

Shame on us for the times we’ve let bitterness or pride keep us from serving someone else. How embarrassing that as God’s representatives, we have let resentment or the desire to get back at others get in the way of the greater good. We are so quick to accept God’s grace and forgiveness, his willingness to serve us no matter how many times we have rejected him by our sinful choices. But when we have opportunity to model the same spirit toward others, the stubborn, scorned sinner shows through instead of the grateful child of God who has been washed and forgiven and set apart for such acts of love and service!

And though the parallel is not explicitly drawn in Scripture, it is virtually impossible to consider Jephthah’s rejection and then rescue without seeing at least some reflection of Jesus’ rejection and rescue. We note how many times he gave his disciples the heads up that the Son of Man would be rejected, then suffer and die. But that very rejection was a part of the process of our redemption, our rescue. We, too, were rescued by a reject. Jesus was chosen by his Father to carry out our salvation, but the world rejected him. Nonetheless, in the way that only the divine hand of God can, he worked rescue through that rejection. He did that for you and for me, to forgive the ones who had rejected him, who have rejected others, and who have let pride rob us of loving service to others in the name of getting even or letting others get what we think they deserve. For such despicable thoughts and attitudes, Jesus was rejected. From such despicable thoughts and attitudes, we have been rescued. Not being held back by our own pride, we are now free to serve as Jephthah did, with the strength the Lord provides. 

Jephthah was not a hothead. He attempted to work through Israel’s situation with the Ammonites using diplomacy. The in-between verses that were cut out of today’s reading are the extended version of the message he had sent to the king of Ammon, attempting to very diplomatically address the concern he had over who possessed which land. When the king of Ammon made it clear that his mind was made up and there was no room for diplomacy, Jephthah led the Israelites to war. Those details, compared to the accounts provided in the instances of previous judges, are relatively short and sweet. “Then Jephthah went over to fight the Ammonites, and the Lord gave them into his hands. He devastated twenty towns from Aroer to the vicinity of Minnith, as far as Abel Keramim. Thus Israel subdued Ammon” (vs.32-33).

Much more detail is provided regarding the troubling issue of Jephthah’s vow that preceded his success on the battlefield. “And Jephthah made a vow to the Lord: “If you give the Ammonites into my hands, whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord’s, and I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering” (vs.30-31). While we can appreciate Jephthah’s commitment to the Lord, making such a vow – not knowing what he was promising – wasn’t his finest moment. We may have though nothing of it if an animal had greeted him, but it was no animal; instead, Jephthah’s daughter happened to be the one who came out the door to greet him at his triumphant return. 

There are two plausible possibilities that have been put forth to explain how Jephthah’s vow was carried out: 1) he sacrificed her as a burnt offering, which is the simplest and most straight-forward understanding of the text, and certainly the more troubling one, or 2) he dedicated his daughter to the Lord as a life-long virgin. There are far too many points and counterpoints in support of each view than can be discussed in a single sermon, many of them holding significant merit. While we would wish to hold up Jephthah in highest esteem, making preferable any plausible explanation that would allow us to avoid an ugly reality of a man of God sacrificing his own daughter to fulfill his vow, we don’t need Jephthah to have a pristine record before God – even if he is listed among the heroes of faith in Hebrews chapter 11. Why? Because God doesn’t need spotless individuals to pass a sanctification background check in order to use them for his purposes; God has always used flawed men to carry out his purposes. This ensures that no judge, but rather God himself, always remains the hero of the story. God is so determined to rescue, to deliver, that not even a flawed individual is going to keep him from carrying out his work. 

And though Scripture doesn’t explicitly direct us to make this comparison, how can a story about a father sacrificing his only child not direct our thoughts to THE Father sacrificing his own child to fulfill another vow, a promise of salvation and forgiveness for all people? There is a place for digging more deeply into this particular matter of Jephthah’s vow, but may it never overshadow or distract us from the promise fulfilled by the Lord when he gave up his own Son. Amidst the uncertainty of a vow in this account is the certainty of our salvation. We have a Savior who didn’t bear a grudge or resent those who rejected him. Instead, he rescued us.

As you consider this truth, do you have any lingering grudges or resentments against those who have rejected you? Is there any bitterness to which you are clinging? Compare your bitterness toward someone else with how Jesus has chosen to treat you. Let go of your bitterness, resentment, and grudges. Lavish on others the same love and forgiveness that your Savior has lavished on you. Amen.

When God’s Not Part of the Plan

(Judges 9:1-25, 46-57)

I wasn’t planning on leading a group of 50 hikers to the top of Mt. San Gorgonio (11,500 elev.) this past week at Good Shepherd Bible Camp, but that’s what ended up happening. In hindsight, one of the biggest takeaways for me was the importance of planning. Making sure everyone stays in their group, has enough water and snacks, and knows what to expect is hugely important. 

As we continue our series in the book of Judges this morning, we also see how important planning is. Actually, not just planning in general, but planning that involves God. Or, as in the case this morning, what it looks like when God’s not part of the plan.

Previously in our series on the book of Judges, the Lord spoke to Deborah. The Lord also came directly to Gideon. Today, we see that the Lord did not come to Abimelech; neither did Abimelech seek out the Lord. And, while the time of the Judges can in general be characterized as a spiritual dumpster fire for the Israelites, Abimelech takes us to a new low. As we look at his particular cycle of the downward spiral of Judges, he shows us quite clearly what happens when God’s not part of the plan. 

Before we go any further, we have to address this reality: sometimes non-believers have it really good in life. Maybe that’s no news flash to anyone here, but we need to acknowledge and understand that so we don’t walk away this morning with the wrong idea that so long as God is in the picture, then life is a dream; if he’s not, then it’s a nightmare. It just isn’t true! Some non-believers have a fantastic life and many believers have one burden to bear after another. Why doesn’t God make life more miserable for the non-believer? There are two different ways he can use an abundance of earthly blessings for his eternal purposes. In one case he might desire that his kindness and generosity lead the non-believer to repentance (cf. Romans 2:4). He might also use an abundance of worldly blessings to lead the non-believer that much sooner to the conclusion that worldly wealth without the Lord is ultimately meaningless (cf. Ecclesiastes). So even when he’s good to the non-believer, his goal is still very much an eternal one that has the concern of souls as its focus. 

For you and me, then – for believers, God shows us what is a general truth in the life of the Christian, based on a real promise that Jesus made in Matthew 6:33: “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” In worldly terms, God’s generous goodness can shower non-believer or believer alike. But only a God-centered life will yield spiritual blessings and joys that can simply never be experienced when God’s not part of the plan. 

In Abimelech’s case, things got off to a selfish start. There is a noticeable distinction between this account and the two judges we have looked at previously. In each of their cases, God was a part of the dialogue with Deborah and Gideon. But he is nowhere to be found in Abimelech’s case – except when being rebuked by someone else. Abimelech wasn’t concerned about God’s wishes or will for his life – he wanted power, and he had a plan for how to secure it. With a little political prowess, he convinced the people of Shechem that they’d be better off being ruled by just one ruler – him – than some sort of divided rulership made up of his 70 brothers. Furthermore, since his mother was Gideon’s concubine from Shechem, he appealed to flesh and blood – he was one of their own! He went to the people and said, “Which is better for you: to have all seventy of Jerub-Baal’s sons rule over you, or just one man? Remember, I am your flesh and blood” (Judges 9:2). Abimelech’s plan was not guided by God in any way whatsoever – he got off to a purely selfish start.

How many times have we been stumped at that stage – the very beginning – because we, too, were far more interested in pursuing our plans rather than seeking God’s counsel on what he would have us do? Simply because we have faith in Jesus does not mean that it’s a given that we seek God’s guidance. A person may have saving faith in Jesus that ensures them a home in heaven, while also largely ignoring God’s guidance or direction for the better part of life. It may not be a matter of not knowing what God would have them do in a situation, but a consistent failure to actually act on that, to intentionally align their life with God’s guidance and direction. So while they see Jesus as Savior, he’s often left at the kiddie table when significant life decisions are being made. When a Christian considers a job offer or relocation opportunity without giving thought to the proximity of our nearest church, how much was God really a part of that plan? When I choose words or actions that dishonor God for the sake of my own popularity or attention, is God really a part of that thought process? When in general our approach is to plan first, then pray second and seek God’s blessings on our plans after we’ve decided what we want to do, is God really a part of those plans, or are we simply treating him like the stamp of approval we’d appreciate in order to move forward with our plans?  

Look at the result of Abimelech’s failure to include God in his plans. His selfish start resulted in godless gain. The citizens of Shechem pledged their allegiance to him with their checkbooks. What did Abimelech do with the money? “They gave him seventy shekels of silver from the temple of Baal-Berith, and Abimelek used it to hire reckless scoundrels, who became his followers” (v.4). He hired thugs. He assembled a gang. It wasn’t as if Abimelech’s fine reputation had earned followers genuinely or that soldiers would be willing to valiantly die an honorable death for him. No, he paid punks to push people around. 

And that’s exactly what they did. But it wasn’t just bullying or scare tactics that he had his men carry out; he authorized them to murder his own flesh and blood. At his dad’s house no less, he turned a stone into a slaughterhouse where he put to death almost all of his brothers. Only Jotham, Gideon’s youngest son and Abimelech’s youngest brother, escaped.

Ever notice how things rather quickly go from bad to worse when we do them our own way and God’s not part of the plan? Abimelech had established himself as a commander of criminals who had committed murder. After that, his little brother who had escaped his execution efforts proclaimed a pronouncement of judgment on him. We notice something else about Jotham’s prophecy against Abimelech: it’s the first time God is mentioned in the account. What Jotham essentially prophesies is that each of the parties involved in this whole shameful account – Abimelech and the people of Shechem who supported his rise to power – would get burned by each other. And that was exactly what happened. God turned the people of Shechem against Abimelech and they ended up throwing their support behind an adversary, Gaal, who was happy to bad-mouth Abimelech and welcome his dissenters (read through verses 26-45 of Judges 9 for those details). Long story short, Abimelech squashed Gaal and his men, forcing the people of Shechem to secure themselves inside the tower of the very same temple from which they first withdrew their financial support for Abimelech. There, trapped inside the tower, Abimelech burned alive a thousand men and women. But as he pressed on to the next city, where he encountered more citizens secured inside a tower, a woman lifted a millstone over the edge of the tower and cracked Abimelech’s skull, ultimately resulting in his death. 

Has it happened that way for you? Perhaps not to the extent of how it ended for Abimelech, but have you experienced things going from bad to worse when God was left out of the plans? A job offer or relocation that didn’t consider the location of a new church family results in at least a season – prayerfully not an eternity! – of drifting away from God. A greater concern over what others think of me than honoring God with words and actions results in sin becoming less black and white and more in the gray area as I justify my choices. I make my plans and then pray for God to bless them instead of praying for God to guide my process of planning in the first place and wonder why things seldom seem to work out the way I had hoped. Things can quickly, or sometimes even worse – very gradually – go from bad to worse when God’s not part of the plan. Abimelech’s story may hit frightfully close to home if we go the same route.

The fact that it hasn’t already, and that we can learn from this account in Judges, is a testament of how desperately God works behind the scenes to keep you as his own, even when we have allowed him to become an afterthought. This is grace: even when God’s not part of our plans, we’re always a part of his. Think of how often we include others in something with the expectation that they’ll do the same for us. We give someone a Christmas card only because we got one from them, or just to see if they’ll send one to us if we send one to them. We operate under the assumption that others will reciprocate our thoughtfulness when we include them. God didn’t wait for us to include him in our plans, but included us in his from eternity. From eternity, his plan of forgiveness and salvation included you, and nothing you can do will compel him to alter or change his plans. Jesus came on the scene to secure God’s plan for you. 

Abimelech raised himself up. Your Savior lowered himself. Abimelech appealed to flesh and blood to garner support. Jesus became flesh and spilled his blood to show you his love. And still today he gives his own flesh and blood for you in the Supper. Jesus was everything that Abimelech was not. Jesus was everything that you and I are not. No one in the world will ever devise a greater plan than God’s plan to save, a plan that included you. Your eternity is secure because his plan included you. Do you think it might be beneficial if more of your plans include him?

God Can Do a Lot with a Little

(Judges 6:33-7:25)

450 to 1. That’s how outnumbered Gideon’s 300 soldiers were. An army of 135,000 vs. an army of 300 (if you can call 300 soldiers an army!). There is not a military strategist in history who would go to battle with those odds. There is no plan that could be devised that would see 300 soldiers victorious against 135,000 – especially in the days predating all the technology and weapons we have today to fight wars with – when hand-to-hand combat was how battle was carried out. No one in his right mind would take those odds, that chance, and willingly initiate any sort of engagement when the deck is that stacked against you. 

But you know what? God can do a lot with a little. He makes that abundantly clear as we focus on the next judge in our series, Gideon. 

Before we dig more into the story of Gideon, in order for today’s takeaway to sink in, I want to take a few moments to consider where you might need this reminder that God can do a lot with a little. There are so many areas in our lives that are filled with too little, with not enough – so many areas that are inadequate or insufficient. Or at least that’s the way we allow ourselves to think. Where do you think you are too little, or you have too little, or are lacking in one way or another? Now ask this question: do you really have too little in these areas of your life, or is the real issue that you think too little of God to be able to do anything with it? May our time exploring God’s goodness to Gideon this morning change not only your mind, but the way you think about God and what he is capable of. 

Look what God had to work with in the case of Gideon. He started with a nobody. When the Lord came to Gideon, he wasn’t decked out in imposing armor preparing to lead an army into a glorious victory on the battlefield. He wasn’t seated on a throne in kingly fashion in some palace somewhere. No, he was threshing wheat, and not even in the normal fashion, but as inconspicuously as possible – he was hidden in a winepress so as not to alert the Midianites. He was nothing more than a common man carrying out manual labor. That’s when the Lord addressed him. “The LORD turned to him and said, ‘Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?’ ‘But Lord,’ Gideon asked, ‘how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family’” (Judges 6:14-15). Gideon didn’t see himself as being up to the task. His view of self was so low that he could not imagine God using him for such a monumental task! Sound familiar? Remember when the Lord came to Moses to send him to save Israel from Pharaoh’s hand? His response was similar: “Who am I?” (Ex. 3:11). Gideon wasn’t the first time the Lord used a nobody to get things done, and he won’t be the last. 

Can you relate to Gideon? You can. You have. Throughout different stages of life we all struggle with the same feelings of inferiority or being unqualified. “I’m not ready to make the jump to high school. I’m not actually good enough to do the job for which I just got hired. I’m not qualified to be a parent to a newborn – I have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t make this marriage work. I can’t care for my aging parents. I can’t be a leader in my church.” We echo the same refrain that Moses and Gideon echoed: “How can I do this? Who am I?” Do you know why that’s so natural for us to think that way?

Because it’s true. When God started with you, he started with a nobody. Actually it was worse than that. A nobody would have been neutral, indifferent, happy to just remain anonymous. But by nature you came into this world as God’s enemy. The sin you were born in set you against God from the start. His perfect holiness doesn’t sit well with sinners. So we oppose him. We despise him. We guard our sin. We defend our sin. We don’t need him telling us it’s wrong today. If nothing changes, we remain on that same path of opposition to God the rest of our lives.

But you’re here because something did change. You did, because God changed you. God took you, his enemy – a nobody, and washed you clean with Jesus’ blood. The very God we despised by nature is the gracious God who made us more precious in his eyes than we could ever have made ourselves. Grace and forgiveness transform nobodies into somebodies in God’s eyes. Without sin as a barrier between you and God, he sees you as he made you to be: perfect, righteous, and ready. Ready for him to use you as he sees fit. Ready to be sent for his purposes. God can do a lot with a little. You are the proof. You weren’t much. But now you are everything to him. He would die for you. He did die for you.

Speaking of doing a lot with a little, kind of sounds like how the Lord carried all of this out, doesn’t it? God made a powerful demonstration of that through Jesus in general. A lot with a little. A little child. Born in little Bethlehem. A little cross outside Jerusalem. One man, not a nobody by any stretch of the imagination, but the God-man, Jesus, put to death on it. Yet through this one crucifixion, this one little death on Good Friday, a cataclysmic event unfolded. Hell lost its hold. And on Easter morning, as the empty tomb opened up, so did heaven, ready to welcome every nobody made a somebody through faith in the Savior, Jesus. 

God can do a lot with a little. Jesus made a powerful demonstration of that in our Gospel today as he fed thousands with a little. He had previously turned out the best wine ever tasted at a wedding in Cana, only needing a little water to do so. 

So let us bring it back to Gideon. Could God do a lot with a little? You already know the answer, but it’s as if God wanted to underscore it in the way he weeded out Gideon’s fighting force. He started with 32,000, but that was too many in God’s opinion, for he was concerned about Israel boasting that its victory was a result of its own strength (7:2-3). So he had Gideon dismiss 22,000 who were afraid to fight and allowed them to return home. That left 10,000 soldiers, but God wasn’t done weeding them out yet. He then had the remaining men get down for a drink of water, and from the different ways they drank water, he sorted them out so that just 300 men remained. That was how God wanted to demonstrate that he could do a lot with a little. 

But what of Gideon’s doubt, you ask? What about his insistence on a handful of signs? There are of course instances in Scripture in which the demand on the part of God’s people for a sign stems from outright doubt. This does not appear to be one of them. No, in this case, Gideon was simply well aware of his own insufficiencies. He wasn’t questioning anything on God’s end; he was questioning himself. So he asked God to let him know that he was sure he had the right guy for the job, a nobody like Gideon. 

What does this say to your doubts? Do you have a rather low opinion of yourself like Gideon? Or perhaps your view of yourself is is on the other end of the spectrum – rather inflated? Finally, let’s confess that sin of thinking of self too much and leave it behind and instead deal with the real issue: the question of what we think of God? What is God able to do? The answer is, anything. Anything. There is nothing he cannot do. Now I don’t know if we have kind of forgotten that or if the common “science-backed” refrain we hear everywhere today has eaten away at our confidence that God actually can do anything, but it remains true. God can do anything. And, God can do anything with anyone.

That includes you. So go back and revisit those areas of life in which you think or you have too little, those areas where you’re convinced that nothing’s ever going to change or improve because you just don’t measure up. If God – not Gideon, but God – can use 300 men to topple an army of 135,000, is God able to change or improve that area of life where there’s too little, where you’re too little? Absolutely. If you struggle to believe it, then it’s because your confidence is misplaced. You think too little of yourself. You don’t think you can do it. You think you’re not enough. Stop limiting what God can do by wrongly thinking you’re the one doing it! It’s not you. It’s not going to be you. It’s going to be God, always the Lord, who can do a lot – so much more than you could imagine! – with a little. 

Stop thinking you’re too old. Stop thinking you’re too young. Stop thinking you’re not smart enough. Stop thinking you’re not spiritual enough. Stop thinking you’re not experienced enough. Stop. Thinking. About. Yourself. Let those who think like this belong to the world. Let the Church instead be filled with bold believers whose confidence rests 100% in a good, gracious God who can do anything with anyone.

God’s Promises Don’t Need to Be Propped Up

(Judges 4)

How soon do you suppose your next flight would be able to take off if, after accelerating for a few seconds, the pilot repeatedly had to slow down for something on the runway? How likely do you think an Olympic long-jumper is to take home a medal if keeps slowing down and speeding up as he approaches his jump? Neither the pilot nor the long-jumper are going to have much success, are they? There are just some things in life that simply require a measure of momentum in order to achieve success. Without that momentum, certain limitations can’t be broken; we get stuck. 

Has your spiritual life ever felt like that? Or, maybe your spiritual life has only felt like that! We start, then slow down, then maybe stop, then start up again, but the only result we ever seem to achieve is that we end up getting stuck. Or backsliding. But any progress seems to be short-lived. Either we take our foot off the gas and slip into complacency, or sin abruptly steals our momentum. How do we break the cycle? How do we get unstuck? Enter the time of Judges. 

You want to see what it looks like to get stuck, to get caught up in an unhealthy cycle that gets progressively worse, spiraling downward like dirty bathwater circling the drain? Look at the 300-350 year period after Moses and Joshua, before any kings were ever established in Israel, and you see the same pattern repeated: rebellion, regret, and rescue. The Israelites would turn away from God in favor of the surrounding pagan worship and customs. Oppression from those pagan nations would ensue, resulting in the Israelites calling out to the Lord in desperation for deliverance. God would raise up a judge and rescue, and the whole cycle would repeat itself again and again for over 300 years. As we study several key judges over the next several weeks in this series, we want to take note of key takeaways that each judge provides to help us get unstuck and break the cycle, so that we can finally make the progress we’ve wanted in our spiritual lives. 

The book of Judges begins on a high note: “After the death of Joshua, the Israelites asked the LORD,…” (1:1). Joshua had led them well! When they needed direction, they knew to seek out the Lord, and so they asked him how to proceed in securing the land he had promised them. Unfortunately, they failed to act in the same confident faith that was a staple of Joshua’s leadership, and so the whole rest of the first chapter of Judges – and essentially the snare that would plague Israel throughout this period of history and up to and through the age of kings – was this: they failed to completely drive out the enemy. Again and again the refrain is the same: each tribe would advance, fight, get comfortable with their success, but then fail to completely drive out their enemies. 

The Lord made clear to them the long-term damage that would result. “‘You shall break down their altars.’ Yet you have disobeyed me. Why have you done this? Now therefore I tell you that I will not drive [your enemies] out before you; they will be thorns in your sides and their gods will be a snare to you” (2:2-3). So it comes as no surprise the tragedy that results shortly thereafter. “After that whole generation had been gathered to their fathers, another generation grew up, who knew neither the LORD nor what he had done for Israel” (2:10). Think it doesn’t matter when we treat our religion, our Christian faith, our relationship with God, like a spare tire? When we allow it to remain nothing more than something that is accessible to us only when absolutely needed in extreme situations, this is what happens. And let’s embrace the sad reality: this is what is currently happening right now in the church. 

Notice I said “church.” It would have been an easier pill to swallow if I had said “in our country,” right? Because that doesn’t sting as much. It depresses us, sure. It frustrates us, definitely. But it also easily allows us to pass the buck and blame everyone else for the direction we’re going. But we’re the ones – you and me – who are guilty of repeating the same deadly cycle that is blatantly obvious throughout the time of Judges. We start out on the high note, seeking out the LORD, but then we either don’t bother to obey what he says, or only partially so, we get caught up in one sinful snare after another, and wonder how things got so bad and how the next generation seems so hopeless. It’s our fault! So do we want to keep repeating the cycle, or do we wish to actually do something about it and break the cycle? Then let’s commit not just to learning the lessons that the book of Judges teaches us, but actually living them, applying them, and putting them into action. Let’s lean on God’s power to equip us to break the cycle and not settle, but strengthen ourselves and the next generation of believers. 

The first lesson God teaches us in our Judges series is that his promises don’t need any human help to bolster them up and make them more believable. God’s promises need no human intervention to validate them or make them more palatable. We take God at his word because it is God’s Word. 

As we look at chapter four, already we see the cycle repeating. God had already delivered his people through the previous judge, Ehud. He provided them relief from oppression, but with that rest and relief they also became relaxed spiritually, and not in a good way. “Again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord, now that Ehud was dead.  So the Lord sold them into the hands of Jabin king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor. Sisera, the commander of his army, was based in Harosheth Haggoyim. Because he had nine hundred chariots fitted with iron and had cruelly oppressed the Israelites for twenty years, they cried to the Lord for help” (Judges 4:1-3). Sisera and his iron-reinforced chariots were wreaking havoc on the Israelites. The advantage he had would be like an army of infantry today going up against a tank battalion – no contest. God, however, would turn the tables on Sisera and Israel’s enemies by showing that opposing him would yield the same result – no contest. 

He spoke through his representative, Deborah, to reveal how he would bring about deliverance and rescue his people. Who was Deborah? We’re told she was leading Israel at the time. She was a prophet recognized by Israel as being gifted with discernment to provide counsel and direction and settle disputes as they arose. Remember this was the time before the monarchy had been established, before Israel had begged to be like other nations and have its own kings. And it was after God had appointed a permanent leaders like Moses and Joshua to lead his people with the specific purpose of guiding them out of Egypt into the promised land. For this time, God saw fit to lead his people through these individual judges, and Deborah was one of them. 

She showed herself to be an exceptional leader, even more so because of the obvious contrast from Barak, the man called to lead the Israelites into battle. If we wonder why, in a primarily patriarchal culture and Bible history in general, a woman (Deborah) was leading, perhaps Barak’s hesitancy to follow God’s direction demonstrates the answer for us. When the Lord had revealed through Deborah that he planned to give Sisera and his army into Barak’s hands, hear again how Barak responded: “Barak said to her, ‘If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go’” (v.8). Deborah rightly pointed out that her command had come right from the top, right from the Lord himself, who had promised victory! But God’s direct promise alone wasn’t enough for Barak; he required human intervention. He needed the assurance that Deborah would accompany him.

Think of how backwards that is! How often don’t we find ourselves in a situation that leads us to the conclusion, “Only a miracle will save us now,” or “only divine intervention will change this outcome”? Yet divine intervention is exactly what the Lord promised to Barak, and it wasn’t enough. He thought that he needed an additional confidence booster from a human being. It should have been the other way around! Barak should have told Deborah to sit tight and that he’d be right back, because the Lord had already guaranteed that victory was a done deal!

Wouldn’t we all like to have a little more Deborah and a little less Barak in each of us? We have a Bible stacked with God’s promises of intervention on behalf of his people, yet we insist on worldly confidence boosters before acting on those promises by faith. The Lord promises to watch over our coming and going, but it takes the confidence booster of a clean bill of health from the doctor for me to believe it. Jesus reminds us that since he dresses the flowers and feeds the birds, we don’t need to lose any sleep over his ability to provide for our needs. But it takes the confidence booster of a steady job and income and to put my mind at ease. God promises that forgiveness and heaven are his free gifts only by grace, only through faith, but I am easily deceived by the false confidence booster that I’ve been a pretty good person to really reassure me. 

We have it backwards! God’s Word is enough. God’s promises are enough. How can some earthly factor or some worldly circumstance add any value whatsoever to what God himself has declared? It can’t. Nothing can. Barak needed Deborah’s assurance for God’s promise of deliverance to be more believable. God forgive us for every time we need some added assurance for God’s promise of deliverance to be more believable!

But God delivers anyway, despite our doubt, just as he did for Barak and the Israelites. “At Barak’s advance, the Lord routed Sisera and all his chariots and army by the sword, and Sisera got down from his chariot and fled on foot. Barak pursued the chariots and army as far as Harosheth Haggoyim, and all Sisera’s troops fell by the sword; not a man was left” (v.15-16). Not a man was left! How does an army of foot soldiers not just scrape by, but completely wipe out a superior fighting force of state-of-the-art chariots? God intervenes, and emphatically at that! Read the praise song of victory in the next chapter and discover that divine intervention definitely played a role! The very plain in the valley that Sisera thought would give his chariots an advantage became his undoing when roaring waters rendered them useless (cf. 5:21)! And though Sisera was able to escape Barak’s sword, he could not escape the Lord, who humbled Barak by allowing a woman, Jael, to fearlessly finish him off. 

As he did Barak, God may choose to humble us for requiring additional confidence boosters to trust in his promises. But here’s what will not change: God will always keep his promises. Now if God waited on us until he had 100% perfect and complete trust from us, well, he’d hardly be able to keep a single promise! He doesn’t operate that way, though, as you know. He doesn’t withhold from us what he has a right to. He doesn’t treat us as he has a right to. He doesn’t give us what we really deserve. Instead, he delivers. Just as we’ll see over the course of the next several weeks in Judges, God delivers. 

In baptism, he delivers. In his Supper, he delivers. Through his Word, he delivers. He always delivers! He delivered his Son into this world so that he could deliver his Son for this world. He has done this great thing – the greatest thing – for you. His forgiveness flows freely to you in an abundant stream that will never slow to a trickle, but will always overflow. You are his and he will deliver you always. Let’s stop the cycle and start taking his promises at face value, not requiring any earthly circumstance at all to make his promises more palatable.