Nothing can be more encouraging to the heart than the mode in which
the Lord deals with the soul of Gideon--the way in which He prepares
him for the course of action to which He was calling him. Gideon, like
ourselves, was full of "ifs" and "whys,"--those little words so big
with unbelief. The poor human heart is ever slow to take in the
magnificence of divine grace; our feeble vision is dazzled by the
brilliancy of divine revelation. It is only artless faith which can
cause the soul to feel perfectly at home in the presence of the
richest unfoldings of the goodness and loving-kindness of God. Faith
never says "if" or "why?" It believes what God says, because He says
it. It rests, in sweet tranquility, upon every word that proceedeth
out of the mouth of God. Unbelief looks at circumstances and reasons
from them: faith looks at God, and reasons from Him. Hence the vast
difference in their conclusions. Gideon, judging from his
surroundings, concluded that Jehovah had forsaken His people. A simple
faith would have led him to the very opposite conclusion; it would
have enabled him to see and know and remember that Jehovah would ever
be true to His promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, however He might,
in His governmental dealings, have to hide His face from their
rebellious and sinful offspring. Faith always counts on God; and God,
blessed be His name, ever honors faith. He first produces it in us,
and then owns it.
But not only does God graciously honor faith; He rebukes our fears. He
rises above our unbelief, and hushes all our silly reasonings. Thus,
in His dealings with His chosen servant Gideon, it would seem as
though He heard not the "if" or the "why?" He goes on to unfold His
own thoughts, to display His own resources, and to fill the soul of
His servant with a confidence and a courage which were to lift him
above all the depressing influences with which he was surrounded.
"And the Lord looked upon him, and said, Go in this thy might, and
thou shalt save Israel out of the hand of the Midianites: have not I
sent thee?" Here we have the true secret of strength: "The Lord looked
upon him." There was divine power in this look, if Gideon could only
have taken it in. But, alas! he was still full of questions. "And he
said unto Him, O my Lord, wherewith shall I save Israel? Behold, my
family is poor in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house."
Thus, unbelief turns the eye in upon self, or out upon our
surroundings. It leads us to compare our visible resources with the
work to which God is calling us. Jehovah had said, "Go in this thy
might." What was the "might?" In what did it consist? Was it great
wealth, lofty position, or great physical power? Nothing of the kind.
"Jehovah looked upon him, and said, Go in this thy might, and thou
shalt save Israel." This was absolute and unqualified. It left no room
for Gideon's "wherewith?" It made it very plain that the might with
which he was to deliver Israel was not in himself or in his father's
house, but in the God of Israel. It mattered little whether his
family was rich or poor; whether he was little or great. It was God
who was about to use him? What was wealth or greatness to Him? He
could use a barley cake or a broken pitcher. Indeed we may observe
this special feature in the varied instruments taken up in the book of
Judges, namely, that "no flesh shall glory in God's presence." How
does human glory fade away before the humiliating fact that Israel's
hosts were called forth to battle under the leadership of a woman!
What a stain on human pride in the fact of deliverance coming through
the agency of a "left-handed man"!
But, on the other hand, we find that just in proportion as man's glory
fades away, the divine glory shines out. The humbler the instrument,
the more we see the power of God. What difference does it make to the
Almighty God whether His instrument be left-handed or right-handed--a
man or a woman--a dwarf or a giant? The instrument is nothing: God is
all in all. True, He deigns to use instruments; but all the power is
His, and His shall be the eternal and universal praise. Gideon had to
learn this; and so had Moses; and so have we all. It is an invaluable
lesson. We are all so prone to think of _our_ competency for any work
or service which may lie before us, when we ought to remember that of
all His works that are done upon the earth, God is the doer of them.
Our sufficiency is of Him. We can do nothing; and if we could do
aught, it would be badly done. The human finger can only leave a soil
behind. The works of men perish like their thoughts. The work of God
abideth forever. Let us remember these things, that we may walk
humbly and lean ever and only on the mighty arm of the living God.
Thus the soul is kept in a well-balanced condition, free from
self-confidence and fleshly excitement, on the one hand; and from
gloom and depression, on the other. If we can do nothing,
self-confidence is the height of presumption. If God can do every
thing, despondency is the height of folly.
But in the case of Gideon, as in that of all God's servants, we
observe two things worthy of our deepest attention. In the first
place, we have the divine commission, as embodied in those weighty
words, "_Have not I sent thee?_" And in the second place, we have the
assurance of the divine presence, as set forth in these encouraging
words, "_Surely I will be with thee_."
These are the two grand points for all who will serve God in their day
and generation. They must know that the path they tread has been
marked out distinctly by the hand of God; and, furthermore, they must
have the sense of His presence with them along the path. These things
are absolutely essential. Without them we shall waver and vacillate.
We shall be running from one line of work to another. We shall take up
certain work, go on with it for a while, and then abandon it for
something else. We shall work by fits and starts; our course will be
faltering, our light flickering: "Unstable as water, we shall not
excel." We shall never succeed at anything. There will be no
certainty, no stability, no progress.
These are weighty matters for all of us. It is of immense importance
for every servant of Christ, every child of God, to know that he is at
his divinely appointed post, and at his divinely given work. This will
give fixedness of purpose, moral elevation, and holy independence. It
will preserve us from being tossed about by human thoughts and
opinions--being influenced by the judgment of one or another. It is
our happy privilege to be so sure that we are doing the very work
which the Master has given us to do, that the thoughts of our fellows
respecting us shall have no more weight with us than the pattering of
rain on the window.
Not--be it carefully observed--that we should, for a moment
countenance, much less cultivate, a spirit of haughty independence.
Far away be the thought! We as Christians, can never, in one sense, be
independent one of another. How can we, seeing we are members one of
another? We are united to one another and to our risen Head in glory,
by the one Spirit who is with us and in us. The most intense
individuality--and our individuality should be as intense as our unity
is indissoluble--can never touch the precious truth of the one body
and one Spirit.
All this is divinely true, and most fully and thankfully owned. But,
at the same time, we must insist upon the truth of our individuality,
and of our personal responsibility. This must be maintained with all
possible energy and decision. Each servant has to do with his Lord, in
that particular sphere of work to which he has been called. And,
moreover, each should know his work, and give himself to it diligently
and constantly. He should possess the holy certainty and authority
imparted to the soul by that divine and powerful sentence, "Have not I
sent thee?"
It will perhaps be said, "We are not all Gideons or Joshuas. We are
not all called to occupy such a prominent place or tread such a
brilliant path as those illustrious servants." True; but we are called
to serve; and it is essential to every servant to know his commission,
to understand his work, and to be fully assured in his own soul that
he is doing the very work which the Lord has given him to do, and
treading the very path which the hand of God has marked out for him.
If there be any uncertainly as to this, we do not see how there can be
any progress.
But there is more than this. It is not enough to know that we are
treading the divinely appointed path. We want to realize the divine
presence. We want to have the precious words made good in our
experience, "Surely I will be with thee." This completes the servant's
equipment. The divine commission and the divine presence are all we
want; but we must have these in order to get on. With these priceless
realities it matters not who we are. The Lord can use a feeble woman,
a left-handed man, a cake of barley meal, or a broken pitcher. The
instrument is nothing. God is the workman. Unbelief may cry out, "O my
Lord, wherewith shall I save Israel? Behold my family is _poor_ in
Manasseh, and I am the _least_ in my father's house." Faith can cry
out in reply, "What of all this if God be for us? Does He want the
rich or the noble? What are riches or greatness to Him? Nothing." "Ye
see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the
flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called; but God hath
chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God
hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which
are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are
despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not to bring to
nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in His presence" (1
Cor. i. 26-29).
These are wholesome words for all of us. It is an unspeakable mercy
for every dear servant of Christ to be kept in the abiding sense of
his own utter nothingness--to be taught to realize, in some measure,
the depth, fulness, and power of that one brief but most comprehensive
statement, "Apart from Me ye can do nothing." There is not a single
branch in all the vine, however imposing or wide-spreading it may seem
to be, which, if separated from the parent stem by the thickness of a
gold leaf, can produce the very smallest atom of fruit. There must be
the abiding realization of our vital union with Christ,--the
practical, living, abiding in Him, by faith, day by day, in order to
bring forth any fruit that God can accept. It is as we abide in Christ
that the living sap circulates freely through us, and gives forth the
healthy bud, the green leaf, and the seasonable fruit.
Here lies the grand secret of power. It is abiding in the living Vine.
"Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord
is; for he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that
spreadeth out her roots by the river; and shall not see when heat
cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the
year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit" (Jer. xvii.
7, 8).
All this is intensely personal. We must each, for himself and herself,
cling by faith to Christ. It is of the very first importance for
Christians to bear in mind that Christianity is a thoroughly
individual thing. We are individual in our repentance, in our faith,
in our salvation, in our communion, in our service, and in our reward.
Look at the addresses to the seven churches in Rev. ii., iii. Hearken
to those pointed words, "_He_ that hath an ear,"--"To _him_ that
overcometh." What do they mean? Do they not set forth, in the most
distinct and forcible manner, that blessed individuality of which we
speak? Unquestionably. But do they touch unity? Not in the smallest
degree. They leave its sacred domain wholly untouched. "There is one
body and one Spirit." This must ever hold good, spite of all the ruin
and failure of the professing Church. Nevertheless, the writings of
John are pre-eminently individual.[22] From the opening lines of his
Gospel to the closing sentence of his Apocalypse, we trace this
feature. He shows us the Philips, the Simons, the Andrews, and the
Nathanaels coming, in their individuality, to Jesus. He tells us of a
Jewish ruler here, and a Samaritan sinner there, who were drawn by the
Father to Jesus. He tells us of the good Shepherd who calleth His
sheep by name. He tells us of the branches clinging to the living
Vine. Thus it is in John's Gospel; and when we turn to his Epistles,
we find the same principle running through them all. He writes to an
elect lady, and to his beloved Gaius; and if he once speaks of "the
Church," it is but to weep over its departed glory, and to raise amid
its ruins that warning note for individual ears, "_Look to
yourselves_." And as to the Revelation, it ends as it begins, with a
solemn appeal "_to him that heareth_."
[22] Eternal life and its manifestations--first in our Lord, and then
in the children of God--being the general line of truth in John's
Gospel and epistles, is individual and personal. In Paul's epistles
the unity of the saints as baptized by one Spirit into one body, with
what flows from it, is brought out. [ED.]