3rd Sunday before Advent 11
“You did not choose me but
I chose you,” said Jesus in the Gospel of John. He’s speaking to his
disciples on the night before he is killed. He says this in the context of some
pretty gloomy predictions about his own future – laying down one’s life
features prominently. It is clear to him, and surely must be to the disciples
too, that the opposition against him is mounting, and that there can only be
trouble ahead. So being chosen as those who will take his message out into the
world probably doesn’t feel like a huge privilege. These disciples are not
likely to be feeling they have won the lottery – but Jesus is clear that they
not only will do this, but that God will equip and strengthen them to do so,
and the truth was that the early Christians made extraordinary sacrifices and
showed extreme courage in sticking to their message in the face of persecution.
Somehow they recognised the truth of Jesus words – you did not choose me, but I
chose you. This was what they were born for, despite its challenges, and they
couldn’t just walk away from it. I am sure they were sometimes frightened and
reluctant, but they answered the call.
Gideon, whose story we heard
in the Old Testament would have recognised their feelings. He was a man who had
also been called and couldn’t quite believe it. In fact he has to be one of the
most ambivalent servants of God in the Bible. He’s an engagingly flawed, person
– not a stereotypical storybook hero – someone like us, or like those first
disciples, in other words, and it seems to me that his story can still speak to
those of us who feel like reluctant disciples today.
Gideon is an unlikely hero
from the start. His story is set in the time of the Judges, not long after the
Israelites have entered the Promised Land after their wandering in the
wilderness. At this point Israel had no kings – it was ruled over by a
combination of military leaders like Joshua and Samson and wise men and women,
like Samuel and Deborah. At the time the story starts though, Israel seems to be
leaderless and in trouble. An enemy tribe, the Midianites, are attacking
repeatedly, destroying the Israelite crops in order to drive them out of the
land, and then moving in with their own livestock. Many of the population are
deserting their farms and taking refuge in caves and mountain strongholds.
There seems to be no one with the skill and courage to lead Israel, no hero to
call on, and what is still a fledgling nation looks as if it could be snuffed
out before it really gets established. The people cry out to God, who they have
been neglecting, says the story. And God acts. “Now the angel of the Lord
came and sat under the oak at Ophrah, which belonged to Joash the Abiezrite as
his son Gideon was beating out wheat in the wine press, to hide it from the
Midianites.” The storyteller makes it clear – Gideon is not a man who is
itching to fight. Nothing could be further from his mind. All he wants to do is hide what he has, and
lie low, hoping the Midianites won’t notice him or his wheat. So you can
imagine how he feels when an angel shows up. The angel greets him by announcing:
“The Lord is with you, Mighty warrior.” I can just imagine Gideon looking
around wondering who he is talking to – “mighty warrior”? It doesn’t sound like
him.
He tries a diversionary
question. “But sir, if the Lord is with us (which is not quite
what the angel said ) why then has all this happened to us?” Gideon
reminds the angel of how God rescued them from Egypt, which the angel probably
knows already…”but now God has deserted us,” says Gideon. There’s no
point crying over spilt milk, says Gideon. We’ve just got to be pragmatic about
it all.
The angel doesn’t seem to be
listening though. Here’s his reply. “Go in this might of yours, and deliver
Israel from the hand of Midian: I hereby commission you.”
Gideon answers politely,
though one senses it’s through gritted teeth. “But sir, how can I deliver
Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family…” “But
I will be with you” says God to him… and that is the key.
Gideon’s still not convinced.
He’s still looking for a loophole. He sets God some tests, which is a bit
cheeky of him. First he lays a fleece on the ground and asks God to make the fleece
wet, but the ground dry. When God does that, he asks for it to happen the other
way round. Patiently, God does that too. In the end Gideon gives in and agrees
to lead the people of Israel against the Midianites. His countrymen flock to
him, apparently keen to follow his lead.
And that is where the passage
we heard comes in. Gideon now has a huge army, but it will be no good if he
ends up believing that they will win the battle for him, or that they are doing
this in their own strength. This isn’t about military might, it is about trust
in God, about looking to God in times of trouble. In the passage we heard
tonight God whittles his army down to a bare minimum. He tells Gideon to send
home anyone who is afraid, which turns out to be slightly over half of them.
Then he sends home any who, asked to drink from the river put their heads down
to it to lap like dogs – no good soldier would do this- how will you see danger
coming if you do this. Finally Gideon has just three hundred …and yet, the
mission is successful.
We are not called to deliver
Israel from the Midianites, nor are we likely to be called, like the early
Christians to face death for our faith. But I am sure we can all identify with both
Gideon and the first disciples feelings in these situations. We are all
sometimes faced with situations where we know we are in over our heads, that
more is being asked of us than we can possibly give. That may come in the face
of illness or personal setbacks, of family trouble or trouble at work, or
simply the cares and worries of life. “I can’t do this,” we say to
ourselves, and we may well be right. Gideon was quite right at the beginning to
look askance when the angel called him a mighty warrior. Of course he wasn’t a
mighty warrior, he was a rather terrified, farmhand with not an ounce of
strategic sense or courage. But he was in the hands of a mighty God, who was
capable of bringing out of Gideon strength he did not know he possessed. “I
can do all things through him who strengthens me,” says St Paul. (Phil. 4.13) It’s not about God miraculously
delivering us from trouble, but about God being with us in the midst of it.
That is seen most clearly in Jesus himself, who faces death for us and with us,
laying down his own life for those he loves. Jesus does not ask more of us than
he asks of himself.
And the comforting thing
about Gideon’s story, if we are feeling daunted, is that the God we meet in it
is endlessly patient. He knows that in the end someone must confront the Midianites.
Nothing will be gained by running to the hills and hiding – you can’t hide
forever. But God understands that Gideon
is scared, and that is all right. God understands that he needs the constant
reassurance of God’s presence, and that is all right too. The same is true for
us as we face our own Midianite hordes whatever or whoever they may be. God
does not expect us to cope alone, but comes to us where we are and stays with
us to get us through.
Amen
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