“THE joy of the Lord is your strength e; and so Gideon found it. Self emptied, his fears fled before the blessed influences of grace, as the mists of night vanish before the beams of the rising sun; and, with a heart full of worship and praise, he “returned into the host of Israel, and said, Arise; for the Lord hath delivered into our hand the host of Midian.” He does not say, “my hand,” though the Lord had said to him, “thy hand.” He does not even say, “our hand;” self is lost sight of utterly. Moreover, he can now say, “the Lord hath delivered:” faith is in full activity, there are no more doubts; the eye is off circumstances altogether, and on the Lord alone. It is always blessed when this is the case with the child of God. How rapidly difficulties sink into nothingness; mountains become a plain; even the bitter cup of sorrow is sweetened, and the soul returns in praise the grace bestowed, by which it is enabled thus to rise above its circumstances. Happy it is when this is the case, because God is glorified, and that precious name, by which all grace flows clown to is — all praise returns to God, is exalted, as every believer will surely say it well deserves to be. Gideon was not privileged to know that precious name; nevertheless, as an Israelite, and one who, in a figure, had been made nigh, he “worshipped;” and in the energy of the spirit of worship it was that he could return, and say, “the Lord HATH delivered.”
Where worship fills the soul, self and its surroundings are forgotten — the Lord is everything; his word suffices, his presence is power, he himself is the all in all to the heart, and there is no room for aught beside. This gives true energy for service, which nothing else does — energy without excitement. The energy of the flesh may make more noise, and seem for the moment to be even the stronger of the two, but while the former may be compared to the calm, quiet flow of some deep river, whose onward current turns not aside for any obstacle — whose pathway is marked by fruitfulness — whose waters fail not in the burning heat of summer, the latter is like the baling brook, or rushing torrent, hurrying on its short and fitful course with much ado, too rapid in its passage to effect permanent benefit to anything, dependent for its existence upon rains that often come not, and leaving in the drought of summer a dry, pebbly bed, to mock the thirsty traveler, and mark the course it took, but could not keep. Compare the calm, lofty, immutable energy of the blessed One in his pathway to the cross, with that of Peter in the Gospels, particularly John 13 to 18. With what a divine and quiet step the Lord moves onward through the scene to his terrible death on Calvary, occupied with his own to the last, without a thought of self, girded with a towel, washing his disciples’ feet, pouring out his love in last words to them, hardly referring to what awaited him, except so fax as it affected them; and when at last the floodgates of violence are opened upon ‘him, going forth to meet the mob, and saying, “If ye then seek me, let these go their way” —only concerned for them and his Father’s glory in it all, utterly forgetful of himself; and that not in stoicism surely, for the dew of agony was yet upon his brow from dark Gethsemane. O inimitable grace and energy of love, who shall tell it out, or worthily speak its praise? How perfect in its whole career, from the manger to the tomb! though brightening by contrast as the way he took, in meek obedience and love, grew darker.
To return to Gideon. He can not only say “the Lord hath delivered,” but can prove his faith now by his works. When first the Lord sought him by the wine-press, precious faith was there, but not active. Now we see it, energized by grace, prepared for anything, and fully equal to the demands made upon it by the circumstances in which its happy possessor is placed. Nay, he can now go beyond what was merely needful; and, as if he would deny all confidence in the flesh, he subdivides that little band, which, united, was all too small and weak for him before. And then, as though he would teach them, in a symbol, how the Lord had brought about a change so great in poor, weak, timid Gideon, he placed an empty vessel in each man’s hand, and a lighted lamp within, shadowing forth the condition into which the patient ways of grace had brought himself. Grace had emptied him of self, and filled the void once occupied by that great idol with the burning light of faith and love. Moreover, if, as an empty vessel, he would go forth to meet the foe, it was as a broken vessel he would triumph over him, that so Jehovah might have all the praise. The vessel must be broken to shivers, or it would hide the lamp, which, though a “burning,” could not become a “shining light” till the vessel was shivered. How often self-obscures the “shining” of the light! “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works.” Grace will own them yours; but if you would make them seem so, the light is obscured, and men will not “glorify your Father which is in heaven.” “Shine ye as lights in the world,” not as vessels. There is a class of believers who are ever occupied with “the earthen vessel” and its experiences. Well would it be for them, both here and hereafter, if they would listen to Gideon’s counsel: “Look on me, and do likewise... as I do, so shall ye do.” And what was that? He broke the vessel to shivers, and let the light alone be seen — that light once hidden by the winepress, now so brightly manifested in the face of the foe. Nor does he forget that gracious word, “the Lord thy God,” which at the first gave him power to confess Jehovah before the Abi-ezrites. In the battle-cry he gives his followers, he can, without presumption, declare himself a co-worker with God. Jehovah’s sword is his, his sword is Jehovah’s — “The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon;” while the trumpet in every man’s hand invoked the aid of God, and brought His almighty power into the scene. The symbol was complete. As empty vessels with the burning lamps within, they went forth to meet the foe. As broken vessels and shining lights, they enter into conflict; but when in conflict, they stand every man in, his place, and the cry of faith brings Jehovah’s power to their aid. Their weapons are his; their triumph is the Lord’s. Surely the believer cannot fail to see in all this a most instructive figure of what he should be, of what grace would make him. “And the three companies blew the trumpets and brake the pitchers, and held the lamps in their left hands, and the trumpets in their right hands to blow withal: and they cried, The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon. And they stood every man in his place round about the camp [Had every believer done so too, from the Day of Pentecost right onward, should we still be in the wilderness?]: and all the host ran, and cried, and fled. And the three hundred blew the trumpets, and the Lord set every man’s sword against his fellow, even throughout all the host.” They needed not to strike a blow; they did but “stand still” (every man in his place), and “see the salvation of the Lord.”
Acknowledging him in all their ways, confessing Tam fully in the face of the foe, he could and did own them. Victory was assured to them before, by faith, and now all is triumph. Whether in all this we are intended of the Spirit to see a prophetic symbol of Israel’s future, when at the cry of the faithful remnant, the broken vessels of the last days, a greater deliverer than Gideon shall come, and save, and lead them on to victory and everlasting triumph in ‘himself, we do not say. The time is not far off when Israel’s true David, and Gideon’s antitype, shall “stand upon Mount Olivet,” and His and his people’s countless enemies shall turn every man his sword against his fellow and “consume away while they stand upon their feet” (Zech. 12, 13., 14) And, blessed thought, if that time is not far off, the hour is nearer yet when the “earthen vessel” shall cease to trouble us. If not broken to shivers, it shall be “changed” and, “fashioned like unto his glorious body” —shall shine in his perfections, the imago of himself, the trophy of his matchless grace, obedience, love, and power, forever more, in God’s own light.
“But who that glorious blazes
Of living light shall tell?
Where all his brightness God displays
And the Lamb’s glories dwell.
(There only to adore
My soul its strength may find;
Its life, its joy, for evermore,
By sight, nor sense defined.)
God and the Lamb shall there
The light and temple be,
And radiant hosts forever share
The unveil’d mystery.”