WE have traced Gideon from the winepress onward to victory and triumph in the Lord. Much precious truth still lies “hidden” in the narrative of the Lord’s gracious ways with him — like virgin gold in the mine — truth, which it is hoped the reader will seek out for himself. The anxious, convicted, seeking sinner, the mere babe in Christ, “young men” and “fathers,” may each find there, if they search for it, something, yet unseen, to profit, but especially the weak and failing ones. Indeed, it seems for these, beyond all others, that this inspired narrative was written: it might have been well entitled “The ways of grace with weakness and failure.”
It was under failure, deep and grievous failure in Israel, that the Lord came and sat under an oak pertaining to an idolatrous Abi-ezrite, and in grace sought out a deliverer for his people, when all hope of deliverance on the ground of righteousness, was utterly gone. It is with failure even in the chosen instrument himself, and the manner in which grace meets it at every step of the way, that the narrative has to do up to the point to which we have traced the history and, sorrowful thought, the narrative closes with failure, for the “religious memorial” of the Lord’s goodness to himself and Israel, which Gideon raised, “became a snare to him and to his house,” as every departure from God’s order in things religious is sure to be. Nevertheless, Gideon, on the whole, was a true and faithful servant from the moment that he “heard the telling of the dream and the interpretation thereof,” and saw in it all the tender compassions of the Lord remainder of the narrative need not detain us long. The experiences he had had of God’s grace towards himself, had taught him to show grace to others. Of this we see a striking instance in the opening verses of chapter eight, where the men of Ephraim complain of his not having called them to the battle when he went to attack the camp of the Midianites. Gideon, in his reply, shows much meekness and grace, as well became one who had known so many mercies. He might have replied, that in going into the battle with no more than 300 men, he was but obeying the Lord, and that his authority was sufficient for the course he had taken. He might have gone further, and justly demanded why, when they saw the oppression of Israel, they had not of themselves gathered to fight against the common foe, instead of waiting for his call; he might well have questioned the sincerity of their professed zeal in the Lord’s service, and reminded them that it was an easy thing to be zealous when the danger was past, and there was nothing to meet but a defeated and flying foe. But instead of all this, he meekly takes the lower place, sets them above himself, and places his own deeds of faith and courage below theirs, saying, “Is not the gleaning of the grapes of Ephraim better than the vintage of Abiezer? God hath delivered into your hands the princes of Midian, Oreb, and Zeeb: and what was I able to do in comparison of you?” Comparing this with Jephthah’s conduct under somewhat similar circumstances, in chapter twelve, how forcibly we see the contrast between the acting’s of grace and those of nature; in the latter case, as the result, there fell of the Ephraimites, forty and two thousand; in the former case “their anger was abated toward him when he had said that;” and however unreasonable that anger was, Gideon, by “a mild answer,” obtained the victory, overcoming evil with good, and by his humility and grace, gave glory to God, and showed his love to His people.
Yet he can deal in righteousness with offenders against the Lord and Israel, when there is need for it. When he and his company, “faint, but pursuing,” asked the aid they were justly entitled to at the hands of the men of Succoth, and were refused, Gideon did not excuse them, nor forget to chastise. So, also, with the men of Penuel. These cases differed from that of Ephraim. Their offense was personal to himself, and though trying to the flesh, he could forgive it. The others sinned against the Lord, and the people of the Lord, whom Gideon loved, and whose enemies he was seeking to exterminate, that “they might not rise up again.” He deals, therefore, in righteousness with them, as Moses with those who made the golden calf (Ex. 32:25-2925And when Moses saw that the people were naked; (for Aaron had made them naked unto their shame among their enemies:) 26Then Moses stood in the gate of the camp, and said, Who is on the Lord's side? let him come unto me. And all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together unto him. 27And he said unto them, Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Put every man his sword by his side, and go in and out from gate to gate throughout the camp, and slay every man his brother, and every man his companion, and every man his neighbor. 28And the children of Levi did according to the word of Moses: and there fell of the people that day about three thousand men. 29For Moses had said, Consecrate yourselves to day to the Lord, even every man upon his son, and upon his brother; that he may bestow upon you a blessing this day. (Exodus 32:25‑29)). Thus grace and righteousness go hand in hand. The weak allowance of evil is not grace, though sometimes mistaken for it. To “daub the wall with untampered mortar” is not tenderness, but iniquity. To suffer sin upon a brother for fear of “wounding his feelings,” is worse than weakness, it is disobedience. Indignation against evil is quite compatible with the meekest spirit of love (Mark 3:55And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. (Mark 3:5)). Who, to hear Moses command the slaughter of the worshippers of the golden calf, would have anticipated the scene in Exodus 32:3232Yet now, if thou wilt forgive their sin; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written. (Exodus 32:32)? Who, to see Gideon as he “taught the men of Succoth with thorns and briars,” beat down the tower of Penuel, and slew the men of the city, would have judged that he loved Israel better than himself? Yet so it was. But the root of all this lay in his love to Jehovah. This is strikingly brought out at verses 22, 23.
Ever prone to idols, Israel offers Gideon the place which belonged to the Lord alone, attributing their deliverance to him instead of Jehovah. “Then the men of Israel said unto Gideon, Rule thou over us, both thou, and thy son, and thy son’s son also, for thou hast delivered us from the hand of Midian.” How terribly soon they fail! But just delivered, they deny their God, and would fain set Gideon in his place as king over Israel. What perfect grace in him who, foreknowing all their base ingratitude and ready forgetfulness of his mercies, did nevertheless deliver them, nor stayed his omnipotent hand until he had perfectly freed them from their oppressors. What an opportunity for Gideon to establish his “dynasty!” Jephthah coveted a lesser honor than this as the price of his services (Judg. 11:9-119And Jephthah said unto the elders of Gilead, If ye bring me home again to fight against the children of Ammon, and the Lord deliver them before me, shall I be your head? 10And the elders of Gilead said unto Jephthah, The Lord be witness between us, if we do not so according to thy words. 11Then Jephthah went with the elders of Gilead, and the people made him head and captain over them: and Jephthah uttered all his words before the Lord in Mizpeh. (Judges 11:9‑11)). Can we wonder that the victory in his case brought him a life-long sorrow, and that his name and family ceased in Israel? How inevitable it is that “whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap”! But “Gideon said unto them, I will not rule over you, neither shall my son rule over you; THE LORD SHALL RULE OVER YOU.” This was a fitting reply, for how could he forget the loving kindnesses of the Lord towards him? Thus he proves that the Lord, who sought him by the winepress, who showed him mercy in many an hour of failure and sorrow, who stood with him in his weakness, and led him on so tenderly to victory and triumph, is still “his God,” and that he can be “valorous” in his cause, whether against Baal or man-worshippers. He “received not grace in vain.” Sad it is to think that some of us should do so, and that the fruit is meagre indeed compared with the labor bestowed upon us.
A “mighty man of valor” now, in truth and verity, to grace he owed it all: that grace which pronounced him so when in himself he was the opposite. And here we see a truth most comforting to the anxious soul, seeking peace with God. Looking at yourself, you feel it impossible to believe that you are justified in God’s sight. If Gideon at all considered himself and his surroundings when the Lord said, “Thou mighty man of valor,” he must have thought that the words were spoken in the bitterest irony. But the Lord looked on the faith that was in him, and on the ground of that, pronounced him so. And it was true of him, even then, weak, timid, “hidden by the winepress” from the foe though he was; because faith united him to God, and although not yet in exercise as to circumstances needed, as we have seen, but to be energized by grace, “touched by the staff,” to make him practically, what in principle he was already. Now this is most important to those commonly called “anxious inquirers.” You desire peace with God, but considering what you are in yourself, feel that God’s holiness forbids you to hope. You have no power to rise above your own evil, and you ask how can a holy God accept me as I am? As a dear young man, now with Christ, once expressed it to the writer, “I dare not think that God can count me righteous, when I know I am such a sinner in myself.” Yet, on being closely questioned, it was evident that he was looking to the blood of Christ, and to the blood alone for salvation. If he was to be saved at all, it must be by the blood; that was his only hope; all other he utterly rejected. Is this your case? He believed that Christ died for sinners, because God said so. Do you? He was sure that the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, was able to cleanse from all sin. Are you? But his difficulty was this, he had no power to appropriate that to himself — that is, what he really meant, was, that he could find no evidence in himself that he so appropriated it. Is this your difficulty? But God did not require him to find any evidence in himself as to power to appropriate, or as to anything else in which self is concerned. He was quite sure, that if he could but believe, he should certainly be saved, because God had said so. But what was this but FAITH, faith in God, faith in the blood, faith in the ALL-SUFFICIENCY of the finished work of Christ upon the cross? He was really looking to that precious blood as his alone ground of hope, and did not perceive that he was doing so, because troubled about himself; he was justified before God by faith, but did not think he was so justified, because he was looking at himself, though really looking to the blood. The publican in the temple was looking to the Propitiation when he cried, “God be propitiated to me the sinner;” yet “would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast,” expressing a condition of hopelessness almost amounting to despair, because he was looking at himself. But Jesus says, “I tell you, this man went down to his house JUSTIFIED.” Are we to suppose that the publican knew it at that time? Assuming he did not, would you say he was not justified? Had his knowing it, anything to do with God’s judgment as to his state? What he ought to have known from the testimony of the word, is another question. The one before us is, what was God’s judgment as to him? He was justified, because looking to the Propitiation alone for forgiveness, though hardly daring to hope. Still that was in his eye, dimly it might be, and distant as the brazen serpent to the glazing-eyes of the dying serpent-bitten Israelite in the wilderness. He trusted nothing else; he hardly trusted that, not because it was little in his sight, but because his sense of guilt was great and overwhelming. The typical propitiation was his only ground of hope; if that failed him, he was lost indeed. Now this was faith, faith in the blood, and he was therefore justified. It may be you trust in nothing short of the blood; you are confident that that is sufficient. Your doubts respect yourself only, not the Sacrifice. Never mind yourself: Abraham considered not himself, nor should you. You have faith, and God declares respecting it, and therefore you who have it, “Being justified by faith, we have peace with God.” Take him at his word. You are saved; he is at peace with you; Christ “has made peace” for you; his word assures you of it; why should you remain at a distance? The young man referred to above, was at last enabled to see that his trembling hope in the blood alone was faith, and that having faith, he was justified through our Lord Jesus Christ in spite of all his sinfulness, lack of power to appropriate, &c. This conviction came like a flash of light upon his soul, and trembling from head to foot with astonishment and joy, he exclaimed, “I see it!”
Not many weeks afterward, he fell asleep in Jesus, and his last words, as he raised his clasped hands to heaven, were, “Thank the Lord: ‘It is finished!’”