THE Lord’s gracious “ways” had fitted his chosen instrument at last for the work before him; his “acts” had separated even the Abi-ezrites from the religious evil they were in.” Then Jerubbaal, who is Gideon, and all the people that were with him, rose up early, and pitched by the well of Harod.” Unconsciously, perhaps, they take up the position which in a moral sense belonged to Israel, for they were “above,” while their enemies were “beneath” them in the valley — a countless host spread abroad over the face of the earth; their very camels “as the sand by the Bed-side for multitude,” while the little army of Israelites, not much exceeding thirty thousand men, were all that could be mustered to meet the foe. Yet, small as that number was, it was too great for the Lord to deliver the Midianites into their hand. He must have all the glory, as was surely most fitting, for who but He could, or would, have made a way whereby his own grace might flow down to those who had gotten so low as to seem almost beyond the reach of mercy — much more of blessing? Their condition had indeed been most hopeless, yet notwithstanding this, the rebound from such a state to one of victory and triumph would, after the first flush of gratitude, stir up the natural and irradicable pride of the heart, and the very vileness grace had so signally passed over, would but hasten the conclusion, “Mine own hand hath saved me.”
“And the Lord said unto Gideon, The people that are with thee are too many for me to give the Midianites into their hands, lest Israel vaunt themselves against me, saying, Mine own hand hath saved me.” “Lest Israel vaunt themselves against me!” Is it possible, some might ask, that man could be capable of a thing so vile, so shameful, under circumstances so signally gracious? Alas, yes! No word more true than that “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?” Who, indeed! Believers are not unfrequently humbled at the discoveries they make, as they go on, of the evil of their own hearts; and when the effect of such discovery is heightened by the false teaching of such as insist upon “perfection in the flesh,” the mischief is often very great. “I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing,” is the sorrowful confession of every child of God; but he should know also that he is “not in the flesh, but in the spirit,” and that there is “no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” Nothing like a sense of grace to “bind the wandering heart” to him to whom we owe so much. “Under grace,” and conscious of it, the believer finds that practically “sin shall not have dominion over” him. But under the humanly-invented principle of “perfection in the flesh,” or any other principle of law, he is weak indeed. The blessed light of truth, which would gladden his eyes, “strengthen him with strength in his soul,” and “make straight paths for his feet,” is shut out from him, and, aiming at the impossible, conscious of failure, and cast down by it, he stumbles on in the darksome way that man has made for him.
“The Lord has given me up, and I am lost!” was once the bitter exclamation of a child of God, who, very shortly after her conversion, was startled by some fresh discovery of the depravity of the old nature. “The Lord has given me up, or I never could be so bad;” and for several weeks she could neither read the word nor pray, nor did she even feel any desire to do so. Wretched in the extreme, seeing no hope in any direction, oppressed by a sense of sin and distance from God, she went about, as she described it “like one in a dream.” At last, one day, as she was listlessly turning over the leaves of her Bible, her eye fell upon a passage which went like an arrow to her soul. In a moment she was on her knees, and with a heart broken by super abounding grace, and with a flood of tears, she poured out her confession at her Father’s feet. “It is twenty years ago now,” she said, in closing her narration, “and from that hour to this, I have never fallen into the same offense which brought me into such terrible despair, although I know that in myself I am as bad as ever, but grace has held me up.” Yes, “under grace,” she, and not sin, had the dominion thenceforth.
Well had it been for Israel, as they mustered on Mount Gilead to the standard of Jerubbaal, had they understood the grace that had led them there but whatever he had learned of its “blest ways,” they had only known the “acts” of the Lord, and, like those who saw his miracles long afterward (John 2:23, 2423Now when he was in Jerusalem at the passover, in the feast day, many believed in his name, when they saw the miracles which he did. 24But Jesus did not commit himself unto them, because he knew all men, (John 2:23‑24)), were ready to rebel against him at any moment. Yet, knowing they were capable of such insolent ingratitude and wickedness, he still goes on with them unhindered in his purposes of love and compassion, resolved to save them from their enemies, but going about also to preserve them from themselves, anticipating, and guarding them from their own terrible evil! Twice were their numbers reduced, the first time by a test applied to faith, the second time to character. At the proclamation that every man who was “fearful and afraid” should depart early from Mount Gilead, two-thirds of the little army fell away! How much Gideon’s heart must have sunk within him at the sight, as “twenty and two thousand” availed themselves of a permission which was as kind as ‘it was wise, and forsook the camp, the nation, and the Lord!
But ten thousand stout hearts still remained, and, without doubt, their faith tested by the defection of so many in the face of such an overwhelming host as that which lay encamped beneath them, gave glory to God. Yet for their own sakes their number must again be lessened, “lest Israel vaunt themselves” against the Lord, and so fall afterward into greater mischief than that he was about to deliver them out of. Brought down to the water, all who bowed down on their knees to drink, drinking greedily, were dismissed. Even though men of faith and courage, the self-indulgent were not permitted to serve the Lord in this emergency; that honor was reserved for the far smaller company of the three hundred, who “lapped as a dog lappeth,” and who, though not necessarily men of greater faith, or more courageous, appear to have possessed one characteristic all-important in service — they were more self-denying’, less attentive to the calls of appetite and ease, content to meet the necessary demands of the body, but no more. At all events, they were the lesser number, and by using them, the Lord would take away all possible opportunity or occasion from Israel to say hereafter “Mine own hand hath saved me.”
And now the gracious Lord turns his attention Once more to his young servant, Gideon. That he was cast down by the defection of more than two-thirds of those who, at the trumpet’s call, had gathered to his standard, we can hardly doubt. It was as “Jerubbaal” (the “Trier of Baal,” as the Arabs translate it), that they had been “with him,” and because he loved Jehovah, and his people Israel, his heart had no doubt rejoiced to see so many “come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty,” so many gathered out of the religiousness of the grove and the altar of Baal. It must, therefore, have saddened his inmost soul to see them “fearful and afraid,” forsake the place they had taken and the testimony he had set up, and return to their homes, there to hide in secret till there was nothing for them to do but to share the blessing won by the toil of their brethren. No doubt it tried the love, the faith, the patience, of this servant of the Lord, as such things do. It may be, too, that numbers had occupied a place in his eye and heart, which belonged only to his Master; and, more than this, it may well have been that a subtle selfishness had crept in and mingled with the gladness with which he saw so many “called after him,” as the servant of Jehovah. Was there no corner of the heart where self sat exultant, that he had been “used” to gather out more than thirty thousand from the ruin they were in? Ah! the servant needs to sift the joy he feels, and watch the tone and character of the very praises that he offers up when he is used of his gracious Master.
How gracious to bear with all that he can see commingling with our services, and even our thanksgivings, we shall never know till “that day;” nor perhaps fully even then; only that the crown of glory and the “white stone, and the new name written,” and many a reward beside, will enhance the value of the blood beyond all power of praise, though sounded forth by harps of gold of God’s own giving.
“And it came to pass the same night that the Lord said unto him, Arise, get thee down unto the host; for I have delivered it into thine hand.” Those “same nights” must have been very precious to Gideon’s memory in after years. It was on the same night “belonging to the day in which he had built an altar to Jehovah-Shalom that the Lord stooped to employ him as his servant. It was in the night, when bowed under a sense of responsibility, failure, and weakness, that HE gave him the reassuring sign he had asked at his gracious hands; and again repeated it in another form on the night following. And now, if it were needful for Israel’s sake, to bring their numbers down almost to nothing, the Lord would not that his dear servant’s faith should be brought down too. If he had reduced the means, he would increase the power of him who was to employ them. If Gideon was “cast down” by the events of the day, the Lord would not leave him so, but “the same night,” unasked, would speak ‘Assurance to his heart, turn his eye from the numbers lost to him, the mere handful left, the stupendous difficulty yet before him, full upon HIM SELF. “I HAVE DELIVERED the host into thine hand.”
This should have been enough. But Gideon was still afraid to go down to the assault of the foe with the little band of three hundred men, notwithstanding all the promises of the Lord, and all that he had known of his most gracious ways! How deep, how very deep, must have been his sense of his need of mercy under these circumstances! Had not the Lord from the beginning told him, “Surely I will be with thee, and thou shalt smite the Medianites as one man”? Had he not twice granted him a sign that he would save Israel by his hand? Had he not said, even on this “same night,” “I have delivered the host into thine hand”? And was Gideon still afraid? Yes; and the Lord knew it.
His loving eye was on his poor weak servant that same night,” his gracious heart yearned over him. The insult to himself, involved in doubts and fears, which should have vanished at the word “I have delivered,” his grace passes by, and instead of sharply reproving him, he shows him mercy, meets the fears his servant dared not express, and by his “pitifulness” seeks to raise him out of his depression, comfort, “strengthen, stablish, settle” him. “But if thou fear to go down, go thou with Phurah, thy servant, down to the host: and thou shalt hear what they say; and afterward shall thine hands be strengthened to go down unto the host.” This was mercy indeed, following, as it did, the declaration “I have delivered,” which should have been received at once, without an instant’s doubt or hesitation. It is very sweet to see the ways that patient grace can take with weakness. “Whoso is wise and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord.”