LECTURE II.—FAITH IN THE PROMISE.
We left Gideon at his lowly task, threshing corn by the wine-press to
bide it from the Midianites. The Israelite lifted up his eyes, and,
behold, One stood before him, clothed in human form, and yet nor man nor
angel; for from the words which He afterwards uttered, such as no created
being dare have breathed, we recognize in Him the eternal Son of God. As
the Lord appeared to Abraham in the plains of Mamre, to Jacob by the ford
of Jabbok, to Moses on the height of Sinai, so appeared He now to Gideon
beneath the oak-tree of Ophrah. Unconscious of the divinity of his Guest,
Gideon still appears to have received with reverence the greeting of the
mysterious stranger, as though aware that He came as a messenger from the
Most High.
“The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour!” was the salutation
of the Holy One to the son of a despised and persecuted race.
“Oh my Lord,” exclaimed Gideon, “if the Lord be with us, why then is all
this befallen us? and where be all the miracles which our fathers told
of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt? But now the Lord
hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hand of the Midianites.”
How often must such thoughts have passed through the mind of Gideon
before they thus found vent in words. Faith, sorely tried by present
trouble, was trying to draw from memories of the past hope for the
future. God, who had crushed the pride of Pharaoh, and led His people
forth from Egyptian bondage, would He not now save and avenge? There
had been miracles of old; such mercies as had been experienced by the
fathers, might they not also be reserved for the children? Was the Lord’s
arm shortened that it could not save; was He unmindful of the groans of
His people? Oh, why had He forsaken Israel, and given His heritage unto
reproach?
“And the Lord looked upon Gideon, and said, Go in this thy might, and
thou shalt save Israel from the hand of the Midianites: have I not sent
thee?”
Let us dwell for a few moments on the words, _The Lord looked upon
Gideon_. Thrice in the Scriptures do we read of a look from Him who
beholdeth all things in heaven and earth. In one sense the omniscient
God is for ever gazing down upon His creation; from Him ocean depths are
no hiding-place, and midnight darkness no screen. The eyes of the Lord
are in every place, beholding the evil and the good. But on some special
occasions God’s glance has in a peculiar way been directed upon man, as
the sunbeams that shine on all may be concentrated in the focus of a
burning-glass to kindle or to destroy. The Lord _looked_ from the pillar
of cloud upon the Egyptians, and they were troubled—they felt God’s wrath
in that gaze; the Lord _looked_ upon Gideon, and in that glance was new
courage and strength; the Lord _looked_ upon Peter, and beneath that gaze
of divine compassion and love his heart was broken and melted, and fast
flowed his penitential tears. Have we ever known the power of that look
in our hearts, to crush our sins, to encourage our faith, to bring us in
deep contrition to the feet of our merciful Lord?
Gideon, like Moses before him, seems to have shrunk from the post of high
honour to which he was called by God; like Moses, he thought of his own
unfitness instead of the almighty power of Him who can employ—and often
does employ—feeble instruments to accomplish the most noble and difficult
works. “Oh my Lord,” he cried, “wherewith shall I save Israel? Behold,
my family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house.”
Before honour is humility; had Gideon been great or wise in his own
eyes, we may well believe that God would have passed him by, to choose
one of a lowlier spirit to be the leader of Israel’s hosts.
“Surely I will be with thee,” said the Lord, “and thou shalt smite the
Midianites as one man.”
Still Gideon appears to have hesitated; perhaps a doubt lingered on his
mind as to the nature of Him who spake as having authority, but who as
yet had wrought no miracle to prove his divine commission. “If now I have
found grace in Thy sight,” said Gideon, “then show me a sign that Thou
talkest with me. Depart not hence, I pray Thee, until I come unto Thee,
and bring forth my present, and set it before Thee.” And the Holy One
said, “I will tarry till thou come again.”
Then—like his father Abraham, glad to entertain the heavenly Guest—Gideon
made ready a feast. He prepared a kid, and unleavened cakes, and brought
them forth to the Lord, who had graciously awaited his return under the
oak of Ophrah—a spot which became as a temple consecrated by His divine
presence.
The Holy One bade Gideon lay the food on the rock, and pour out the
broth. What man designed for a feast, God would receive as a sacrifice.
With the end of the staff which was in His hand the sacred Guest touched
the flesh and the unleavened cakes, and the stone on which they lay
became as an altar. Fire arose from the rock and consumed the offering
of Gideon, and the divine Being—who had thus accepted as God what was
presented to Him as man—vanished out of the sight of His servant.
[Illustration: THE SACRIFICE.]
The first emotion of the astonished Gideon seems to have been that of
terror. “Alas! O Lord God,” he exclaimed, “because I have seen an angel
of the Lord face to face.”
A gracious promise of love came in answer to that cry of fear; we know
not whether the divine voice sounded in the mortal’s ear, or but spoke
with mysterious power in his soul. The Lord said unto Gideon, “Peace be
unto thee, fear not; thou shalt not die.”
Then, in that holy spot where the Lord had deigned to appear in human
guise, Gideon built an altar, and called it _Jehovah shallum_, which is,
_The Lord send peace_.
And now, beloved friends, let us apply to our hearts the lessons
contained in this portion of the history of Gideon. Hath not the Lord
appeared unto us with a promise of help and deliverance, if we in His
might will struggle against the enemies within? He comes to us not only
in the house of prayer, not only in seasons of holy communion, but when
we, like Gideon, are following the common occupations of life. His eye
is fixed upon us in tender compassion, and His message to the lowly
Christian entering on the battle-field of life is this: _Go in this thy
might: have I not sent thee? I will be with thee._
Let us glean from the Scriptures some promises of this blessing of the
Lord’s peculiar presence with His people. To those obeying His command
to preach the gospel amongst all nations, how precious through centuries
of toil and peril has been the gracious assurance: _Lo, I am with you
alway, even unto the end of the world_. To those almost sinking under the
heavy trials of life, how full of comfort is the promise: _Fear thou not;
for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God. I will strengthen
thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand
of My righteousness._ Through life, even unto the grave, the power of
that promise extends, so that the Christian can add in lowly trust: _Yea,
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil: for Thou art with me_.
But who are they who can thus take to themselves the precious promises
of Christ? They who have come to Him in lowly faith; or rather, they to
whom the Lord hath come in the power of redeeming love. In the history
of Gideon we see a type of the Lord’s dealings with His people. He
is found of them that sought Him not; He comes to the sorrowful, the
oppressed, the tempted, and offers to them the free deliverance which
His mercy alone can bestow. We have nothing to give the sacred Guest
but the offering of a sin-stained heart, a heart wholly unworthy of His
acceptance, _till He touch it_, as He touched the offering of Gideon, and
the flame of divine love is kindled, and the sacrifice of a broken and
contrite heart becomes acceptable unto the Lord. Then, like Gideon, may
we raise our altar with grateful thanksgiving; and, while preparing for
the struggle with indwelling sin, feel assured that the Lord will “send
peace.”
We are also reminded, by this transient visit of the Son of God to the
world, of His longer sojourn with the children of Israel, when for more
than thirty-three years the Redeemer waited on earth till the bitter
cup should be filled to the brim—till the great Sacrifice should be
offered—and then ascended to His Father in heaven, thereby granting
additional proof of His divinity to His adoring people. “The Lord send
peace,” was the name given by Gideon to his altar, and our Lord’s words
on the night before His crucifixion sound like a response to that name:
_Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world
giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it
be afraid._
But what is the promised peace? To Gideon his heavenly Visitor had spoken
of conflict: “Go in this thy might; thou shalt smite the Midianites as
one man.” In this command to Gideon, my brethren, we hear our Master’s
charge to ourselves, and learn what it is that can give us strength to
obey that charge. The Christian is promised peace, but it is such as may
be realized to some degree even in the midst of conflict; and it is that
peace which, after conflict, in its perfection crowneth victory.
The Midianites within must be conquered, and the might which conquers
is from God. If disappointment blight our hopes, discontent fret our
spirits, dissension mar our peace, distrust shrink from expected
trials, we must yet lift up our eyes unto the hills from whence cometh
our help—we must yet ask, and we shall receive, the grace which can
supply all our need, and enable us to rise above the infirmities of
the flesh, the weakness of our fallen nature. Let us trust fearlessly,
let us trust alone in the might of our Lord. As long as we remain in
presumptuous self-confidence, the Midianites rest in possession; when we
cast ourselves in earnest prayer at the feet of the Saviour, He maketh us
_more than conquerors_.
We contemplated Faith, when last we met here, as the tree which in winter
stands bare of foliage, black and leafless, yet with life within it. With
Gideon now that tree had felt the warm breath of spring—the Lord had
looked upon it, and the living sap had risen under the beams of the Sun
of Righteousness; the green leaves of hope were budding on the boughs.
Gideon had not as yet conquered his foes, but the Lord had promised that
he should do so, and the expectation of triumph was before him.
Christian brethren, let us also rejoice in help, and so gird ourselves
up for the struggle before us, taking as the motto on our banner, _Go
in this thy might_, and as the cordial to our weak fainting hearts the
promise, _I will be with thee_.
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