Gideon

“The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!”

A thrill ran through Gideon as the bold shout resounded through the chill night air.

Three hundred men all told made up the count of his tiny army. Split into three companies, a hundred men to a company, they had surrounded the Midianite camp by night. Now they stood in their places, blowing thundering blasts on their trumpets and shouting the battle cry in synchrony.

As their commander, Gideon stood hearing the pitchers of his men break, and seeing the torches within blaze forth brightly with intense excitement beating within his chest.

He couldn't help but wonder at the incredible change that God had wrought in his life since the day that the Angel had appeared to him.

On that day, he hadn't even known immediately that the man he'd been speaking with had been an Angel.

He hadn't realised until afterwards.

When he'd brought to the stranger he'd assumed to be a prophet something to eat, the man had bidden him pour out the food upon a rock as an offering. He'd then touched it with his staff, and inexplicably, fire had issued forth from the staff, consuming the offering.

The man had then, just as inexplicably, disappeared from Gideon's sight, much to his intense surprise.

In fact, it had frightened Gideon so much that he'd fallen on his face believing that he'd die any moment for having seen the Angel.

When Gideon thought it all over from his new position, he realised that it hadn't been long since he had been an oppressed, scared, weakling of a man, threshing wheat by his father's winepress covertly, for fear of the Midianites.

The Midianites mightily oppressed Israel, taking all they had, because sin had once again entered the Israelite camp.

If Gideon was honest, the moment the Angel had found him had been the lowest point of his life.

He'd hardly felt any better than a slave. He longed to be bold and stand up to his enemies, but at the same time, he couldn't bear for the food he'd toiled over to be seen by the enemy, and for all his living to be taken from him and his family again.

So, when the Angel had first appeared, it was understandable that his heart had jumped into his throat.

His first thought was that this man was part of the enemy, but the manner and conversation of the stranger told him otherwise.

He could hardly believe his ears when the strange man beneath the oak tree, who seemed to have snuck up on him out of nowhere, said to him, “The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour.”

Although he couldn't hear any trace of sarcasm in the man's voice, Gideon had stared hard at the man to see if the mockery was visible in his eyes instead.

A mighty man of valour? Me? Threshing wheat in secret, like a coward? Yeah, right.

But no, the stranger had merely given him a curious smile, and Gideon's suspicions had died away on his lips.

There was something different about this man…

Maybe he is a prophet! But if so, he's come to the wrong man…

Gideon checked himself, and in place of a sarcastic retort rose instead the bitter feelings that Gideon had been nursing all morning.

“Oh my Lord, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? And where be all his miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up out of Egypt?’ But now the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us unto the hands of the Midianites.”

Gideon had poured out his complaint and confusion to the stranger sitting under the oak tree before he could stop himself. 

Instead of rebuking him, the stranger simply continued his narrative, that Gideon was a mighty man of valour before the Lord– that He was sending him, Gideon, to deliver his people from their enemies. 

It's because he doesn't know me…

Gideon had tried to dissuade him, giving him the ‘facts’ about himself, his family, and his situation. The stranger had only smiled that curious smile again. The words that continued to issue from his mouth were words of encouragement.

In the end, Gideon had to admit that the words of the Angel had fanned a hidden fire in him that had been slowly flickering to life, downtrodden as he was. His heart burned with indignation at the idolatry of Israel, and the idolatry that had crept into his father's house.

Perhaps he can see something I can't.

Meeting the Angel at the altar of Jehovah-shalom, the Lord is our peace, had given Gideon the push he needed to start the sanctifying of Israel from his own house. He came to be known as Jerubbaal on the day he and his servants threw down the altar of Baal and cut down the grove beside it that his father kept.

Gideon was surprised at his own boldness in the matter.

He had never known he could be so brave.

And even though his newfound courage stuttered and fluttered, and even though he wavered and asked the Lord continually for confirmation of his presence, the Lord was patient in answering Gideon's every request.

The Lord had even guided Gideon through the choosing of an army, and had used a dream from the very mouth of their enemies to show Gideon that no matter how small the army the Lord chose for him was, he would defeat the innumerable hosts of the enemy regardless, because the LORD had sent him to do so.

And now, as he watched the hosts of Midian and the enemies of Israel destroying one another– as his men continually sounded the trumpets and shouted the battle cry– Gideon knew the truth with immovable certainty.

He could doubt it no longer.

He didn't have to fear anything.

The Lord his Peace was truly with him.

He had always been with this mighty man of valour.