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"MIDIAN’S EVIL DAY"
Jdg 7:8-25 - Jdg 8:1-21
THERE is now with Gideon a select band of three hundred, ready
for a night attack on the Midianites. The leader has been guided to
a singular and striking plan of action. It is, however, as he well
knows, a daring thing to begin assault upon the immense camp of
Midian with so small a band, even though reserves of nearly ten
thousand wait to join in the struggle; and we can easily see that
the temper and spirit of the enemy were important considerations on
the eve of so hazardous a battle. If the Midianites, Amalekites, and
Children of the East formed a united army, if they were prepared to
resist, if they had posted sentinels on every side and were bold in
prospect of the fight, it was necessary for Gideon to be well aware
of the facts. On the other hand if there were symptoms of division
in the tents of the enemy, if there were no adequate preparations,
and especially if the spirit of doubt or fear had begun to show
itself, these would be indications that Jehovah was preparing
victory for the Hebrews.
Gideon is led to inquire for himself into the condition of the
Midianitish host. To learn that already his name kindles terror in
the ranks of the enemy will dispel his lingering anxiety. "Jehovah
said unto him Go thou with Purah thy servant down to the camp; and
thou shalt hear what they say; and afterward shall thine hands be
strengthened." The principle is that for those who are on God’s side
it is always best to know fully the nature of the opposition. The
temper of the enemies of religion, those irregular troops of
infidelity and unrighteousness with whom we have to contend, is an
element of great importance in shaping the course of our Christian
warfare. We hear of organised vice, of combinations great and
resolute against which we have to do battle. Language is used which
implies that the condition of the churches of Christ contrasts
pitiably with the activity and agreement of those who follow the
black banners of evil. A vague terror possesses many that in the
conflict with vice they must face immense resources and a powerful
confederacy. The far-stretching encampment of the Midianites is to
all appearance organised for defence at every point, and while the
servants of God are resolved to attack they are oppressed by the
vastness of the enterprise. Impiety, sensuality, injustice may seem
to be in close alliance with each other, on the best understanding,
fortified by superhuman craft and malice, with their gods in their
midst to help them.
But let us go down to the host and listen, the state of things may
be other than we have thought.
Under cover of the night which made Midian seem more awful the
Hebrew chief and his servant left the outpost on the slope of Gilboa
and crept from shadow to shadow across the space which separated
them from the enemy, vaguely seeking what quickly came. Lying in
breathless silence behind some bush or wall the Hebrews heard one
relating a dream to his fellow. "I dreamed," he said, "and, lo, a
cake of barley bread tumbled into the camp of Midian and came unto a
tent and smote it that it fell, and overturned it that it lay
along." The thoughts of the day are reproduced in the visions of the
night. Evidently this man has had his mind directed to the
likelihood of attack, the possibility of defeat. It is well known
that the Hebrews are gathering to try the issue of battle. They are
indeed like a barley cake such as poor Arabs bake among ashes-a
defeated famished people whose life has been almost drained away.
But tidings have come of their return to Jehovah and traditions of
His marvellous power are current among the desert tribes. A confused
sense of all this has shaped the dream in which the tent of the
chief appears prostrate and despoiled. Gideon and Purah listen
intently, and what they hear further is even more unexpected and
reassuring. The dream is interpreted: "This is nothing else save the
sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel; for into his hand
God hath delivered Midian and all the host." He who reads the dream
knows more than the other. He has the name of the Hebrew captain. He
has heard of the Divine messenger who called Gideon to his task and
assured him of victory. As for the apparent strength of the host of
Midian, he has no confidence in it, for he has felt the tremor that
passes through the great camp. So, lying concealed, Gideon hears
from his enemies themselves as from God the promise of victory, and
full of worshipping joy hastens back to prepare for an immediate
attack.
Now in every combination of godless men there is a like feeling of
insecurity, a like presage of disaster. Those who are in revolt
against justice, truth, and the religion of God have nothing on
which to rest, no enduring bond of union. What do they conceive as
the issue of their attempts and schemes? Have they anything in view
that can give heart and courage; an end worth toil and hazard? It is
impossible, for their efforts are all in the region of the false,
where the seeming realities are but shadows that perpetually change.
Let it be allowed that to a certain extent common interests draw
together men of no principle so that they can cooperate for a time.
Yet each individual is secretly bent on his own pleasure or profit
and there is nothing that can unite them constantly. One selfish and
unjust person may be depended upon to conceive a lively antipathy to
every other selfish and unjust person. Midian and Amalek have their
differences with one another, and each has its own rival chiefs,
rival families, full of the bitterest jealousy, which at any moment
may burst into flame. The whole combination is weak from the
beginning, a mere horde of clashing desires incapable of harmony,
incapable of a sustaining hope.
In the course of our Lord’s brief ministry the insecurity of those
who opposed Him was often shown. The chief priests and scribes and
lawyers whispered to each other the fears and anxieties He aroused.
In the Sanhedrin the discussion about Him comes to the point, "What
do we? For this man doeth many signs. If we let Him thus alone, all
men will believe on Him: and the Romans will come and take away both
our peace and our nation." The Pharisees say among themselves,
"Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing? Behold the world is gone after
Him." And what was the reason, what was the cause of this weakness?
Intense devotion to the law and the institutions of religion
animated those Israelites, yet sufficed not to bind them together.
Rival schools and claims honeycombed the whole social and
ecclesiastical fabric. The pride of religious ancestry and a keenly
cherished ambition could not maintain peace or hope; they were of no
use against the calm authority of the Nazarene. Judaism was full of
the bitterness of falsehood. The seeds of despair were in the minds
of those who accused Christ, and the terrible harvest was reaped
within a generation. Passing from this supreme evidence that the
wrong can never be the strong, look at those ignorant and unhappy
persons who combine against the laws of society. Their suspicions of
each other are proverbial, and ever with them is the feeling that
sooner or later they will be overtaken by the law. They dream of
that and tell each other their dreams. The game of crime is played
against well known odds. Those who carry it on are aware that their
haunts will be discovered, their gang broken up. A bribe will tempt
one of their number, and the rest will have to go their way to the
cell or the gallows. Yet with the presage of defeat wrought into the
very constitution of the mind and with innumerable proofs that it is
no delusion, there are always those amongst us who attempt what even
in this world is so hazardous and in the larger sweep of moral
economy is impossible. In selfishness, in oppression and injustice,
in every kind of sensuality men adventure as if they could ensure
their safety and defy the day of reckoning. Gideon is now well
persuaded that the fear of disaster is not for Israel. He returns to
the camp and forthwith prepares to strike. It seems to him now the
easiest thing possible to throw into confusion that great encampment
of Midian.
One bold device rapidly executed will set in operation the
suspicions and fears of the different desert tribes and they will
melt away in defeat. The stratagem has already shaped itself. The
three hundred are provided with the earthenware jars or pitchers in
which their simple food has been carried. They soon procure
firebrands and from among the ten thousand in the camp enough rams’
horns are collected to supply one to each of the attacking party.
Then three bands are formed of equal strength and ordered to advance
from different sides upon the enemy, holding themselves ready at a
given signal to break the pitchers, flash the torches in the air and
make as much noise as they can with their rude mountain horns. The
scheme is simple, quaint, ingenious. It reveals skill in making use
of the most ordinary materials which is of the very essence of
generalship. The harsh cornets especially filling the valley with
barbaric tumult are well adapted to create terror and confusion. We
hear nothing of ordinary weapons, but it must not be supposed that
the three hundred were unarmed.
It was not long after midnight, the middle watch had been newly set,
when the three companies reached their stations. The orders had been
well seized and all went precisely as Gideon had conceived. With
crash and tumult and flare of torches there came the battle
shout-"Sword of Jehovah and of Gideon." The Israelites had no need
to press forward; they stood every man in his place, while fear and
suspicion did the work. The host ran and cried and fled. To and fro
among the tents, seeing, now on this side now on that, the menacing
flames, turning from the battlecry here to be met in an opposite
quarter by the wild dissonance of the horns, the surprised army was
thrown into utter confusion. Every one thought of treachery and
turned his sword against his fellow. Escape was the common impulse,
and the flight of the disorganised host took a southeasterly
direction by the road that led to the Jordan valley and across it to
the Hauran and the desert. It was a complete rout and the Hebrews
had only to follow up their advantage. Those who had not shared the
attack joined in the pursuit. Every village that the flying
Midianites passed sent out its men, brave enough now that the arm of
the tyrant was broken. Down to the ghor of Jordan the
terror-stricken Arabs fled and along the bank for many a mile,
harassed in the difficult ground by the Hebrews who know every yard
of it. At the fords there is dreadful work. Those who cross at the
highest point near Succoth are not the main body, but the two chiefs
Zebah and Zalmunna are among them and Gideon takes them in hand.
Away to the south Ephraim has its opportunity and gains a victory
where the road. along the valley of Jordan diverges to Beth-barah.
For days and nights the retreat goes oft till the strange swift
triumph of Israel is assured.
1. There is in this narrative a lesson as to equipment for the
battle of life and the service: of God somewhat like that which we
found in the story of Shamgar, yet with points of difference. We are
reminded here of what may be done without wealth, without the
material apparatus that is often counted necessary. The modern habit
is to make much of tools and outfit. The study and applications of
science have brought in a fashion of demanding everything possible
in the way of furniture, means, implements. Everywhere this fashion
prevails, in the struggle of commerce and manufacture, in literature
and art, in teaching and household economy, worst of all in church
life and work. Michaelangelo wrought the frescoes of the Sistine
chapel with the ochres he dug with his own hands from the garden of
the Vatican. Mr. Darwin’s great experiments were conducted with the
rudest and cheapest furniture, anything a country house could
supply. But in the common view it is on perfect tools and material
almost everything depends; and we seem in the way of being
absolutely mastered by them. What, for example, is the
ecclesiasticism which covers an increasing area of religious life?
And what is the parish or congregation fully organised in the modern
sense? Must we not call them elaborate machinery expected to produce
spiritual life? There must be an extensive building with every
convenience for making worship agreeable; there must be guilds and
guild rooms, societies and committees, each with an array of
officials; there must be due assignment of observances to fit days
and seasons; there must be architecture, music, and much else. The
ardent soul desiring to serve God and man has to find a place in
conjunction with all this and order his work so that it may appear
well in a report. To some these things may appear ludicrous, but
they are too significant of the drift from that simplicity and
personal energy in which the Church of Christ began. We seem to have
forgotten that the great strokes have been made by men who like
Gideon delayed not for elaborate preparation nor went back on rule
and precedent, but took the firebrands, pitchers, and horns that
could be got together on a hillside. The great thing both in the
secular and in the spiritual region is that men should go straight
at the work which has to be done and do it with sagacity,
intelligence, and fervour of their own.
We look back to those few plain men with whom lay the new life of
the world, going forth with the strong certain word of a belief for
which they could die, a truth by which the dead could be revived.
Their equipment was of the soul. Of outward means and material
advantages they were, one may say, destitute. Our methods are very
different. No doubt in these days there is a work of defence which
requires the finest weapons and most careful preparation. Yet even
here no weight of polished armour is so good for David’s use as the
familiar sling and stone. And in the general task of the church,
teaching, guiding, setting forth the gospel of Christ, whatever
keeps soul from honest and hearty touch with soul is bad. We want
above all things men who have sanctified common sense, mother wit,
courage and frank simplicity, men who can find their own means and
gain their own victories. The churches that do not breed such are
doomed.
2. We have been reading a story of panic and defeat, and we may be
advised to find in it a hint of the fate that is to overtake
Christianity when modern criticism has finally ordered its companies
and provided them with terrifying horns and torches. Or certain
Christians may feel that the illustration fits the state of alarm in
which they are obliged to live. Is not the church like that
encampment in the valley, exposed to the most terrible and startling
attacks on all sides, and in peril constantly of being routed by
unforeseen audacities, here of Ingersoll, Bakunin, Bebel, there of
Huxley or Renan? Not seldom still, though after many a false alarm,
the cry is raised, "The church, the faith-in danger!"
Once for all-the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ is never in danger,
though enemies buzz on every side like furious hornets. A
confederation of men, a human organisation may be in deadly peril
and may know that the harsh tumult around it means annihilation. But
no institution is identical with the Catholic Church, much less with
the kingdom of God. Christians need not dread the honest criticism
which has a right to speak, nor even the malice, envy, which have no
right yet dare to utter themselves. Whether it be sheer atheism or
scientific dogma or political change or criticism of the Bible that
makes the religious world tremble and cry out for fear, in every
case panic is unchristian and unworthy. For one thing, do we not
frame numerous thoughts and opinions of our own and devise many
forms of service which in the course of time we come to regard as
having a sacredness equal to the doctrine and ordinances of Christ?
And do we not frequently fall into the error of thinking that the
symbols, traditions, outward forms of a Christian society are
essential and as much to be contended for as the substance of the
gospel? Criticism of these is dreaded as criticism of Christ, decay
of them is regarded, often quite wrongly, as decay of the work of
God on earth. We forget that forms, as such, are on perpetual trial,
and we forget also that no revolution or seeming disaster can touch
the facts on which Christianity rests. The Divine gospel is eternal.
Indeed, assailants of the right sort are needed, and even those of
the bad sort have their use. The encampment of the unseeing and
unthinking, of the self-loving and arrogant needs to be startled;
and he is no emissary of Satan who honestly leads an attack where
men lie in false peace, though he may be for his own part but a rude
fighter. The panic indeed sometimes takes a singular and pathetic
form. The unexpected enemy breaks in on the camp with blare of
ignorant rebuke and noisy demonstration of strength and authority.
Him the church hails as a new apostle, at his feet she takes her
place with a strange unprofitable humility; and this is the worst
kind of disaster. Better far a serious battle than such submission.
3. Without pursuing this suggestion we pass to another raised by the
conduct of the men of Ephraim. They obeyed the call of Gideon when
he hastily summoned them to take the lower fords of Jordan within
their own territory and prevent the escape of the Midianites. To
them it fell to gain a great victory, and especially to slay two
subordinate chiefs, Oreb and Zeeb, the Crow and the Wolf. But
afterwards they complained that they had not been called at first
when the commander was gathering his army. We are informed that they
chode with him sharply on this score, and it was only by his soft
answer which implied a little flattery that they were appeased.
"What have I now in comparison with you? Is not the gleaming of the
grapes of Ephraim better than the vintage of Abiezer?"
The men of Ephraim were not called at first along with Manasseh,
Zebulun, Asher, and Naphtali. True. But why? Was not Gideon aware of
their selfish indifference? Did he not read their character? Did he
not perceive that they would have sullenly refused to be led by a
man of Manasseh, the youngest son of Joash of Abiezer? Only too well
did the young chief know with whom he had to deal. There had been
fighting already between Israel and the Midianites. Did Ephraim help
then? Nay: but secure in her mountains that tribe sullenly and
selfishly held aloof. And now the complaint is made when Gideon,
once unknown, is a victorious hero, the deliverer of the Hebrew
nation.
Do we not often see something like this? There are people who will
not hazard position or profit in identifying themselves with an
enterprise while the issue is doubtful, but desire to have the
credit of connection with it if it should succeed. They have not the
humanity to associate themselves with those who are fighting in a
good cause because it is good. In fact they do not know what is
good, their only test of value being success. They lie by, looking
with half-concealed scorn on the attempts of the earnest, sneering
at their heat either in secret or openly, and when one day it
becomes clear that the world is applauding they conceive a sudden
respect for those at whom they scoffed. Now they will do what they
can to help, -with pleasure, with liberality. Why were they not
sooner invited? They will almost make a quarrel of that, and they
have to be soothed with fair speeches. And people who are worldly at
heart push forward in this fashion when Christian affairs have
success or eclat attached to them, especially where religion wears
least of its proper air and has somewhat of the earthly in tone and
look. Christ pursued by the Sanhedrin, despised by the Roman, is no
person for them to know. Let Him have the patronage of Constantine
or a de Medici and they are then assured that He has claims which
they will admit-in theory. More than that needs not be expected from
men and women "of the world." "Messieurs, surtout, pas de zele."
Above all, no zeal: that is the motto of every Ephraim since time
began. Wait till zeal is cooling before you join the righteous
cause.
4. But while there are the carnal who like to share the success of
religion after it has cooled down to their temperature, another
class must not be forgotten, those who in their selfishness show the
worst kind of hostility to the cause they should aid. Look at the
men of Succoth and Penuel. Gideon and his band leading the pursuit
of the Midianites have had no food all night and are faint with
hunger. At Succoth they ask bread in vain. Instead of help they get
the taunt-"Are Zebah and Zalmunna now in thine hand that we should
give bread unto thine army?" Onward they press another stage up the
hills to Penuel, and there also their request is refused. Gideon,
savage with the need of his men, threatens dire punishment to those
who are so callous and cruel; and when he returns victorious his
threat is made good. With thorns and briars of the wilderness he
scourges the elders of Succoth. The pride of Penuel is its
watchtower, and that he demolishes, at the same time decimating the
men of the city.
Penuel and Succoth lay in the way between the wilderness in which
the Midianites dwelt and the valleys of western Palestine. The men
of these cities feared that if they aided Gideon they would bring on
themselves the vengeance of the desert tribes. Yet where do we see
the lowest point of unfaith and meanness, in Ephraim or Succoth? It
is perhaps hard to say which are the least manly: those contrive to
join the conquering host and snatch the credit of victory; these are
not so clever, and while they are as eager to make things smooth for
themselves the thorns and briars are more visibly their portion. To
share the honour of a cause for which you have done very little is
an easy thing in this world, though an honest man cannot wear that
kind of laurel; but as for Succoth and Penuel, the poor creatures,
who will not pity them? It is so inconvenient often to have to
decide. They would temporise if it were possible-supply the famished
army with mouldy corn and raisins at a high price, and do as much
next time for the Midianites. Yet the opportunity for this kind of
salvation does not always come. There are times when people have to
choose definitely whom they will serve, and discover to their horror
that judgment follows swiftly upon base and cowardly choice. And God
is faithful in making the recusants feel the urgency of moral choice
and the grip He has of them. They would fain let the battle of truth
sweep by and not meddle with it. But something is forced upon them.
They cannot let the whole affair of salvation alone, but are driven
to refuse heaven in the very act of trying to escape hell. And
although judgment lingers, ever and anon demonstration is made among
the ranks of the would be prudent that One on high judges for His
warriors. It is not the Gideon leading the little band of faint but
eager champions of faith who punishes the callous heathenism and low
scorn of a Succoth and Penuel. The Lord of Hosts Himself will
vindicate and chasten. "Whoso shall cause one of these little ones
that believe in Me to stumble, it is profitable for him that a great
millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be
sunk in the depth of the sea."
5. Yet another word of instruction is found in the appeal of Gideon:
"Give, I pray you, loaves of bread unto the people that follow me,
for they be faint and I am pursuing after Zebah and Zalmunna." Well
has the expression "Faint yet pursuing" found its place as a proverb
of the religious life. We are called to run with patience a race
that needs long ardour and strenuous exertion. The goal is far away,
the ground is difficult. As day after day and year after year
demands are made upon our faith, our resolution, our thought, our
devotion to One who remains unseen and on our confidence in the
future life, it is no wonder that many feel faint and weary. Often
have we to pass through a region inhabited by those who are
indifferent or hostile, careless or derisive. At many a door we
knock and find no sympathy. We ask for bread and receive a stone;
and still the fight slackens not, still have we to reach forth to
the things that are before. But the faintness is not death. In the
most terrible hours there is new life for our spiritual nature.
Refreshment comes from an unseen hand when earth refuses help. We
turn to Christ; we consider Him who endured great contradiction of
sinners against Himself; we realise afresh that we are ensured of
the fulness of His redemption. The body grows faint, but the soul
presses on; the body dies and has to be left behind as a worn-out
garment, but the spirit ascends into immortal youth.
"On, chariot! on, soul!
Ye are all the more fleet.
Be alone at the goal
Of the strange and the sweet!"
6. Finally let us glance at the fate of Zebah and Zalmunna, not
without a feeling of admiration and of pity for the rude ending of
these stately lives.
The sword of Jehovah and of Gideon has slain its thousands. The vast
desert army has been scattered like chaff, in the flight, at the
fords, by the rock Oreb and the wine press Zeeb, all along the way
by Nobah and Jogbehah, and finally at Karkor, where having encamped
in fancied security the residue is smitten. Now the two defeated
chiefs are in the hand of Gideon, their military renown completely
wrecked, their career destroyed. To them the expedition into Canaan
was part of the common business of leadership. As emirs of nomadic
tribes they had to find pasture and prey for their people. No
special antagonism to Jehovah, no ill-will against Israel more than
other nations, led them to cross the Jordan and scour the plains of
Palestine. It was quite in the natural course of things that
Midianites and Amalekites should migrate and move towards the west.
And now the defeat is crushing. What remains therefore but to die?
We hear Gideon command his son Jether to fall upon the captive
chiefs, who, brilliant and stately once, lie disarmed, bound and
helpless. The indignity is not to our mind. We would have thought
more of Gideon had he offered freedom to these captives "fallen on
evil days," men to be admired, not hated. But probably they do not
desire a life which has in it no more of honour. Only let the Hebrew
leader not insult them by the stroke of a young man’s sword. The
great chiefs would die by a warrior’s blow. And Jether cannot slay
them; his hand falters as he draws the sword. These men who have
ruled their tens of thousands have still the lion look that quails.
"Rise thou and fall upon us," they say to Gideon: "for as the man
is, so is his strength." And so they die, types of the greatest
earthly powers that resist the march of Divine Providence,
overthrown by a sword which even in faulty, weak human hands has
indefeasible sureness and edge.
"As the man is, so is his strength." It is another of the pregnant
sayings which meet us here and there even in the least meditative
parts of Scripture. Yes: as a man is in character, in faith, in
harmony with the will of God, so is his strength; as he is in
falseness, injustice, egotism, and ignorance, so is his weakness.
And there is but one real perennial kind of strength. The
demonstration made by selfish and godless persons, though it shake
continents and devastate nations, is not Force. It has no nerve, no
continuance, but is mere fury which decays and perishes. Strength is
the property of truth and truth only; it belongs to those who are in
union with eternal reality and to no others in the universe. Would
you be invincible? You must move with the eternal powers of
righteousness and love. To be showy in appearance or terrible in
sound on the wrong side with the futilities of the world is but
incipient death.
On all sides the application may be seen. In the home and its varied
incidents of education, sickness, discipline; in society high and
low; in politics, in literature. As the man or woman is in simple
allegiance to God and clear resolution there is strength to endure,
to govern, to think, and every way to live. Otherwise there can only
be instability, foolishness, blundering selfishness, a sad passage
to inanition and decay.
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