but few to do it. Examine the state of any Christian church, reckon up
those who are deeply interested in its efficiency, who make sacrifices
of time and means, and set against these the half-hearted, who ignobly
accept the religious provision made for them and perhaps complain that
it is not so good as they would like, that progress is not so rapid as
they think it might be,--the one class far outnumbers the other. As in
Israel twice or three times as many might have responded to Barak's
call, so in every church the resolute, the energetic and devoted are few
compared with those who are capable of energy and devotion. It is
sometimes maintained that the worship of goodness and the Christian
ideal command the minds of men more to-day than ever they did, and proof
seems ready to hand. But, after all, is it not religious taste rather
than reverence that grows? Self-culture leads many to a certain
admiration of Christ and a form of discipleship. Christian worship is
enjoyed and Christian philanthropy also, but when the spiritual freedom
of mankind calls for some effort of the soul and life, we see what
religion means--a wave of the hand instead of enthusiasm, a guinea
subscription instead of thoughtful service. Is it a Christian or a
selfish culture which is content with fragmentary concessions and
complacent patronage where the claims of social "inferiors" are
concerned? That there is a wide diffusion of religious feeling is clear
enough; but in many respects it is mere dilettantism.
Notice the history of the tribes that lag behind in the day of the
Lord's summons. What do we hear of Reuben after this? "Unstable as water
thou shalt not excel." Along with Gad Reuben possessed a splendid
country, but these two faded away into a sort of barbarism, scarcely
maintaining their separateness from the wild races of the desert. Asher
in like manner suffered from the contact with Phoenicia and lost touch
with the more faithful tribes. So it is always. Those who shirk
religious duty lose the strength and dignity of religion. Though greatly
favoured in place and gifts they fall into that spiritual impotence
which means defeat and extinction.
"Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the
inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord
against the mighty." It is a stern judgment upon those whose active
assistance was humanly speaking necessary in the day of battle. The men
only held back, held back in doubt, supposing that it was vain for
Hebrews to fling themselves against the iron chariots of Sisera. Were
they not prudent, looking at the matter all round? Why should a curse so
heavy be pronounced on men who only sought to save their lives? The
reply is that secular history curses such men, those of Sparta for
example to whom Athens sent in vain when the battle of Marathon was
impending; and further that Christ has declared the truth which is for
all time, "Whosoever will save his life shall lose it." Erasmus was a
wise man; yet he made the great blunder. He saw clearly the errors of
Romanism and the miserable bondage in which it kept the souls of men,
and if he had joined the reformers his judgment and learning would have
become part of the world's progressive life. But he held back doubting,
criticising, a friend to the Reformation but not an apostle of it.
Admire as we may the wit, the reasoner, the philosopher, there must
always be severe judgment of one who professing to love truth declared
that he had no inclination to die for it. There are many who without the
intellect of Erasmus would fain be thought catholic in his company.
Large is the family of Meroz, and little thought have they of any ban
lying upon them. Is it a fanciful danger, a mere error of opinion
without any peril in it, to which we point here? People think so; young
men especially think so and drift on until the day of service is past
and they find themselves under the contempt of man and the judgment of
Christ. "Lord, when saw we Thee a stranger or in prison and did not
minister unto Thee?" "Depart from Me, I never knew you."
3. Jael, a type of the unscrupulous helpers of a good cause.
Long has the error prevailed that religion can be helped by using the
world's weapons, by acting in the temper and spirit of the world. Of
that mischievous falsehood have been born all the pride and vainglory,
the rivalries and persecutions that darken the past of Christendom,
surviving in strange and pitiful forms to the present day. If we shudder
at the treachery in the deed of Jael, what shall we say of that which
through many a year sent victims to inquisition-dungeons and to the
stake in the name of Christ? And what shall we say now of that moral
assassination which in one tent and another is thought no sin against
humanity, but a service of God? Among us are too many who suffer wounds
keen and festering that have been given in the house of their friends,
yea, in the name of the one Lord and Master. The battle of truth is a
frank and honourable fight, served at no point by what is false or proud
or low. To an enemy a Christian should be chivalrous and surely no less
to a brother. Granting that a man is in error, he needs a physician not
an executioner; he needs an example not a dagger. How much farther do we
get by the methods of opprobrium and cruelty, the innuendo and the
whisper of suspicion? Besides, it is not the Siseras to-day who are
dealt with after this manner. It is the "schismatic" within the camp on
whom some Jael falls with a hammer and a nail. If a church cannot stand
by itself, approved to the consciences of men, it certainly will not be
helped by a return to the temper of barbarism and the craft of the
world. "The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through
God to the casting down of strongholds."
X.
_THE DESERT HORDES; AND THE MAN AT OPHRAH._
JUDGES vi. 1-14.
Jabin king of Canaan defeated and his nine hundred chariots turned into
ploughshares we might expect Israel to make at last a start in its true
career. The tribes have had their third lesson and should know the peril
of infidelity. Without God they are weak as water. Will they not bind
themselves now in a confederacy of faith, suppress Baal and Astarte
worship by stringent laws and turn their hearts to God and duty? Not
yet: not for more than a century. The true reformer has yet to come.
Deborah's work is certainly not in vain. She passes through the land
administering justice, commanding the destruction of heathen altars. The
people leave their occupations and gather in crowds to hear her; they
shout, in answer to her appeals, Jehovah is our King. The Levites are
called to minister at the shrines. For a time there is something like
religion along with improving circumstances. But the tide does not rise
long nor far.
Some twenty years have passed, and what is to be seen going on
throughout the land? The Hebrews have addressed themselves vigorously to
their work in field and town. Everywhere they are breaking up new
ground, building houses, repairing roads, organising traffic. But they
are also falling into the old habit of friendly intercourse with
Canaanites, talking with them over the prospects of the crops, joining
in their festivals of new moon and harvest. In their own cities the old
inhabitants of the land sacrifice to Baal and gather about the Asherim.
Earnest Israelites are indignant and call for action, but the mass of
the people are so taken up with their prosperity that they cannot be
roused. Peace and comfort in the lower region seem better than
contention for anything higher. In the centre of Palestine there is a
coalition of Hebrew and Canaanite cities, with Shechem at their head,
which recognize Baal as their patron and worship him as the master of
their league. And in the northern tribes generally Jehovah has scant
acknowledgment; the people see no great task He has given them to do. If
they live and multiply and inherit the land they reckon their function
as His nation to be fulfilled.
It is a temptation common to men to consider their own existence and
success a sort of Divine end in serving which they do all that God
requires of them. The business of mere living and making life
comfortable absorbs them so that even faith finds its only use in
promoting their own happiness. The circle of the year is filled with
occupations. When the labour of the field is over there are the houses
and cities to enlarge, to improve and furnish with means of safety and
enjoyment. One task done and the advantage of it felt, another presents
itself. Industry takes new forms and burdens still more the energies of
men. Education, art, science become possible and in turn make their
demands. But all may be for self, and God may be thought of merely as
the great Patron satisfied with His tithes. In this way the impulses
and hopes of faith are made the ministers of egoism, and as a national
thing the maintenance of law, goodwill, and a measure of purity may seem
to furnish religion with a sufficient object. But this is far from
enough. Let worship be refined and elaborated, let great temples be
built and thronged, let the arts of music and painting be employed in
raising devotion to its highest pitch--still if nothing beyond self is
seen as the aim of existence, if national Christianity realizes no duty
to the world outside, religion must decay. Neither a man nor a people
can be truly religious without the missionary spirit, and that spirit
must constantly shape individual and collective life. Among ourselves
worship would petrify and faith wither were it not for the tasks the
church has undertaken at home and abroad. But half-understood,
half-discharged, these duties keep us alive. And it is because the great
mission of Christians to the world is not even yet comprehended that we
have so much practical atheism. When less care and thought are expended
on the forms of worship and the churches address themselves to the true
ritual of our religion, carrying out the redeeming work of our Saviour,
there will be new fervour; unbelief will be swept away.
Israel losing sight of its mission and its destiny felt no need of faith
and lost it; and with the loss of faith came loss of vigour and
alertness as on other occasions. Having no sense of a common purpose
great enough to demand their unity the Hebrews were again unable to
resist enemies, and this time the Midianites and other wild tribes of
the eastern desert found their opportunity. First some bands of them
came at the time of harvest and made raids on the cultivated districts.
But year by year they ventured farther in increasing numbers. Finally
they brought their tents and families, their flocks and herds, and took
possession.
In the case of all who fall away from the purpose of life the means of
bringing failure home to them and restoring the balance of justice are
always at hand. Let a man neglect his fields and nature is upon him;
weeds choke his crops, his harvests diminish, poverty comes like an
armed man. In trade likewise carelessness brings retribution. So in the
case of Israel: although the Canaanites had been subdued other foes were
not far away. And the business of this nation was of so sacred a kind
that neglect of it meant great moral fault and every fresh relapse into
earthliness and sensuality after a revival of religion implied more
serious guilt. We find accordingly a proportionate severity in the
punishment. Now the nation is chastised with whips, but next time it is
with scorpions. Now the iron chariots of Sisera hold the land in terror;
then hosts of marauders spread like locusts over the country,
insatiable, all-devouring. Do the Hebrews think that careful tilling of
their fields and the making of wine and oil are their chief concern? In
that they shall be undeceived. Not mainly to be good husbandmen and
vine-dressers are they set here, but to be a light in the midst of the
nations. If they cease to shine they shall no longer enjoy.
It was by the higher fords of Jordan, perhaps north of the Sea of
Galilee, that the Midianites fell on western Canaan. Under their two
great emirs Zebah and Zalmunna, who seem to have held a kind of barbaric
state, troops of riders on swift horses and dromedaries swept the shore
of the lake and burst into the plain of Jezreel. There were no doubt
many skirmishes between their squadrons and the men of Naphtali and
Manasseh. But one horde of the invaders followed another so quickly and
their attacks were so sudden and fierce that at length resistance became
impossible, the Hebrews had to betake themselves to the heights and
dwell in the caves and rocks. Once in the desert under Moses they had
been more than a match for these Arabs. Now, although on vantage ground
moral and natural, fighting for their hearths and homes behind the
breastwork of lake, river and mountain, they are completely routed.
Between the circumstances of this oppressed nation and the present state
of the church there is a wide interval, and in a sense the contrast is
striking. Is not the Christianity of our time strong and able to hold
its own? Is not the mood of many churches of the present day properly
that of elation? As year after year reports of numerical increase and
larger contributions are made, as finer buildings are raised for the
purposes of worship and work at home and abroad is carried on more
efficiently, is it not impossible to trace any resemblance between the
state of Israel during the Midianite oppression and the state of
religion now? Why should there be any fear that Baal-worship or other
idolatry should weaken the tribes, or that marauders from the desert
should settle in their land?
And yet the condition of things to-day is not quite unlike that of
Israel at the time we are considering. There are Canaanites who dwell in
the land and carry on their debasing worship. These too are days when
guerilla troops of naturalism, nomads of the primaeval desert, are
sweeping the region of faith. Reckless and irresponsible talk in
periodicals and on platforms; novels, plays and verses often as clever
as they are unscrupulous are incidents of the invasion, and it is well
advanced. Not for the first time is a raid of this kind made on the
territory of faith, but the serious thing now is the readiness to give
way, the want of heart and power to resist that we observe in family
life and in society as well as in literature. Where resistance ought to
be eager and firm it is often ignorant, hesitating, lukewarm. Perhaps
the invasion must become more confident and more injurious before it
rouses the people of God to earnest and united action. Perhaps those who
will not submit may have to betake themselves to the caves of the
mountains while the new barbarism establishes itself in the rich plain.
It has almost come to this in some countries; and it may be that the
pride of those who have been content to cultivate their vineyards for
themselves alone, the security of those who have too easily concluded
that fighting was over shall yet be startled by some great disaster.
"Israel was brought very low because of Midian." A traveller's picture
of the present state of things on the eastern frontier of Bashan enables
us to understand the misery to which the tribes were reduced by seven
years of rapine. "Not only is the country--plain and hill-side
alike--chequered with fenced fields, but groves of fig-trees are here
and there seen and terraced vineyards still clothe the sides of some of
the hills. These are neglected and wild but not fruitless. They produce
great quantities of figs and grapes which are rifled year after year by
the Bedawin in their periodical raids. Nowhere on earth is there such a
melancholy example of tyranny, rapacity and misrule as here. Fields,
pastures, vineyards, houses, villages, cities are all alike deserted and
waste. Even the few inhabitants that have hid themselves among the
rocky fastnesses and mountain defiles drag out a miserable existence,
oppressed by robbers of the desert on the one hand and robbers of the
government on the other." The Midianites of Gideon's time acted the part
both of tyrants and depredators. They "left no sustenance for Israel,
neither sheep nor ox nor ass. They entered into the land for to destroy
it."
"And the children of Israel cried unto the Lord"; the prodigals
bethought them of their Father. Having come to the husks they remembered
Him who fed His people in the desert. Again the wheel has revolved and
from the lowest point there is an upward movement. The tribes of God
look once more towards the hills from whence their help cometh. And here
is seen the importance of that faith which had passed into the nation's
life. Although it was not of a very spiritual kind, yet it preserved in
the heart of the people a recuperative power. The majority knew little
more of Jehovah than His name. But the name suggested availing succour.
They turned to the Awful Name, repeated it and urged their need. Here
and there one saw God as the infinitely righteous and holy and added to
the wail of the ignorant a more devout appeal, recognizing the evils
under which the people groaned as punitive and knowing that the very God
to Whom they cried had brought the Midianites upon them. In the prayer
of such a one there was an outlook towards holier and nobler life. But
even in the case of the ignorant the cry to One higher than the highest
had help in it. For when that bitter cry was raised self-glorifying had
ceased and piety begun.
Ignorant indeed is much of the faith that still expresses itself in
so-called Christian prayer, almost as ignorant as that of the
disconsolate Hebrew tribes. The moral purpose of discipline, the Divine
ordinances of defeat and pain and affliction are a mystery unread. The
man in extremity does not know why his hour of abject fear has come, nor
see that one by one all the stays of his selfish life have been removed
by a Divine hand. His cry is that of a foolish child. Yet is it not true
that such a prayer revives hope and gives new energy to the languid
life? It may be many years since prayer was tried, not perhaps since he
who is now past his meridian knelt at a mother's knee. Still as he names
the name of God, as he looks upward, there comes with the dim vision of
an Omnipotent Helper within reach of his cry the sense of new
possibilities, the feeling that amidst the miry clay or the heaving
waves there is something firm and friendly on which he may yet stand. It
is a striking fact as to any kind of religious belief, even the most
meagre, that it does for man what nothing else can do. Prayer must
cease, we are told, for it is mere superstition. Without denying that
much of what is called prayer is an expression of egotism, we must
demand an explanation of the unique value it has in human life and a
sufficient substitute for the habit of appeal to God. Those who would
deprive us of prayer must first re-make man, for to the strong and
enlightened prayer is necessary as well as to the weak and ignorant. The
Heavenly is the only hope of the earthly. That we understand God is,
after all, not the chief thing: but does He know us? Is He there, above
yet beside us, for ever?
The first answer to the cry of Israel came in the message of a prophet,
one who would have been despised by the nation in its self-sufficient
mood but now obtained a hearing. His words brought instruction and made
it possible for faith to move and work along a definite line. Through
man's struggle God helps him; through man's thought and resolve God
speaks to him. He is already converted when he believes enough to pray,
and from this point faith saves by animating and guiding the strenuous
will. The ignorant abject people of God learns from the prophet that
something is to be done. There is a command, repeated from Sinai,
against the worship of heathen gods, then a call to love the true God
the Deliverer of Israel. Faith is to become life, and life faith. The
name of Jehovah which has stood for one power among others is clearly
re-affirmed as that of the One Divine Being, the only Object of
adoration. Israel is convicted of sin and set on the way of obedience.
The answer to prayer lies very near to him who cries for salvation. He
has not to move a step. He has but to hear the inner voice of
conscience. Is there a sense of neglect of duty, a sense of
disobedience, of faults committed? The first movement towards salvation
is set up in that conviction and in the hope that the evil now seen may
be remedied. Forgiveness is implied in this hope, and it will become
assured as the hope grows strong. The mistake is often made of supposing
that answer to prayer does not come till peace is found. In reality the
answer begins when the will is bent towards a better life, though that
change may be accompanied by the deepest sorrow and self-humiliation. A
man who earnestly reproaches himself for despising and disobeying God
has already received the grace of the redeeming Spirit.
But to Israel's cry there was another answer. When repentance was well
begun and the tribes turned from the heathen rites which separated them
from each other and from Divine thoughts, freedom again became possible
and God raised up a liberator. Repentance indeed was not thorough;
therefore a complete national reformation was not accomplished. Yet as
against Midian, a mere horde of marauders, the balance of righteousness
and power inclined now in behalf of Israel. The time was ripe and in the
providence of God the fit man received his call.
South-west from Shechem, among the hills of Manasseh at Ophrah of the
Abiezrites, lived a family that had suffered keenly at the hands of
Midian. Some members of the family had been slain near Tabor, and the
rest had as a cause of war not only the constant robberies from field
and homestead but also the duty of blood-revenge. The deepest sense of
injury, the keenest resentment fell to the share of one Gideon, son of
Joash, a young man of nobler temper than most Hebrews of the time. His
father was head of a Thousand; and as he was an idolater the whole clan
joined him in sacrificing to the Baal whose altar stood within the
boundary of his farm. Already Gideon appears to have turned with
loathing from that base worship; and he was pondering earnestly the
cause of the pitiful state into which Israel had fallen. But the
circumstances perplexed him. He was not able to account for facts in
accordance with faith.
In a retired place on the hillside where a winepress has been fashioned
in a hollow of the rocks we first see the future deliverer of Israel.
His task for the day is that of threshing out some wheat so that, as
soon as possible, the grain may be hid from the Midianites; and he is
busy with the flail, thinking deeply, watching carefully as he plies
the instrument with a sense of irksome restraint. Look at him and you
are struck with his stalwart proportions and his bearing: he is "like
the son of a king." Observe more closely and the fire of a troubled yet
resolute soul will be seen in his eye. He represents the best Hebrew
blood, the finest spirit and intelligence of the nation; but as yet he
is a strong man bound. He would fain do something to deliver Israel; he
would fain trust Jehovah to sustain him in striking a blow for liberty;
but the way is not clear. Indignation and hope are baffled.
In a pause of his work, as he glances across the valley with anxious
eye, suddenly he sees under an oak a stranger sitting staff in hand, as
if he had sought rest for a little in the shade. Gideon scans the
visitor keenly, but finding no cause for alarm bends again to his
labour. The next time he looks up the stranger is beside him and words
of salutation are falling from his lips--"Jehovah is with thee, thou
mighty man of valour." To Gideon the words did not seem so strange as
they would have seemed to some. Yet what did they mean? Jehovah with
him? Strength and courage he is aware of. Sympathy with his
fellow-Israelites and the desire to help them he feels. But these do not
seem to him proofs of Jehovah's presence. And as for his father's house
and the Hebrew people, God seems far from them. Harried and oppressed
they are surely God-forsaken. Gideon can only wonder at the unseasonable
greeting and ask what it means.