Judges 4:4-11

Deborah, a prophetess . .. Judged Israel.

Deborah: woman’s attribute

1. Amongst the women of the Bible Deborah stands out in great prominence, though we know but little of her character. She is one of those who show forth a distinctive characteristic of women--the power of contrivance and design carried out to such an extent as to make some doubt whether her acts were within the limits of religion and morality.

2. Deborah seems to have been a kind of oracle in the unsettled state of things that existed among the Jewish tribes; her advice was attended to and her voice followed by leaders and by armies with the most implicit devotion. Her parallels are many, both in Scripture and history. We are irresistibly reminded of one whose spirit once bore up the flagging energies of France in the annals of the latter, of Judith in those of the former. One circumstance strikes us as highly significant. Starting up close beside her was the kindred spirit of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite. Though not strictly answerable for the act of Jael, she nevertheless celebrated that act as one of her objects of gratulation in her magnificent hymn.

3. We must view her in two lights. She was of course under a heavenly inspiration, as well as under the guidance of a strong natural character. In the former capacity she is simply to be viewed as one of those instances in which God chooses to show forth His power through the weak things of this world, and to bring about great national crises through the instrumentality of the weaker sex. But placing this view of the subject aside, I will consider her in reference to her natural character and ordinary position, as a woman in the midst of vast and depressing circumstances rousing by the vigour, boldness, and freshness of her character, the flagging energies of men. We see this in many instances of life, public as well as private. How remarkable and almost miraculous it is that the wife, who shares the anxious cares of the husband, be he labourer or mechanic, is able to keep up her spirit and to hope to the end! How often would the man, who has had to contend with the waves of constant trouble, succumb to increasing difficulties; and how many a crisis of difficulty, in connection with illness, accidents, or the like, in the domestic circle, calls forth the presence of mind of the mother, when the father would shrink from the difficulty, and lend no hand to help. Nor is it only this power that is felt so beneficially in the cottage as well as in richer homes. The eye that sees a brighter day and that pierces the fast rolling clouds of present adversity, perceiving the glow of a brighter morning when “the tyranny will be overpast,” is especially the eye of woman. One other attribute of woman which comes out in Deborah’s story is the deep impression that her mission was Divine, and that the instincts of nature were the gifts of inspiration. There is that spirit in the weaker sex which, in the moment of high crisis and difficulty, would often justify the impression; but this spirit is the gift of God for a special purpose, and is a substitute for those bolder and more persevering qualities which belong to the stronger sex. There are many periods, both in private and in public life, which need rather light shed by a ready and present mind than the steady beam of the more enduring fire. From the lack of it we may miss the object of our life’s search. It is the want felt in such conjunctures as these that woman supplies; she bears the lamp of the midnight; and sometimes when with weary watching other lamps have gone out, hers is trimmed.

4. Such is woman’s prerogative, such her peculiar characteristic. For though Deborah may be an exaggeration in a remarkable crisis of the characteristics of her sex, they nevertheless exist in more or less force in every representative of it. It is seemingly paradoxical, but no less true, that women should have the power of meeting imminent danger with a calmness and perseverance often denied to man. Let them view these gifts as the direct ordering of Heaven, and, while they glory in them as their heritage, let them cultivate and improve them as the talents committed to their trust. (E. Monro, M. A.)

Lessons from an old story

1. In an age and a season of perpetual unrest, how refreshing is it to the spirit to have before us the example, albeit in a remote past, of one judge who could dwell under the palm-tree between Rama and Bethel, and to whom the children of Israel could go up for judgment. If the right kind of men, a few of them, could be set free to think, to advise, to originate, to counsel, what a gain would this be to a people laden with care, full of intellectual and spiritual perplexities, and feeling themselves terribly alone in their difficult and embarrassing way. For lack of this many lives go utterly astray, and many minds are wrecked on shoals and sandbanks of doubting. It might be said that the two offices of action and thought are only kept distinct in the present state of things, and that those who want counsel have no lack of help from an innumerable crowd of writers. Unhappily the thinkers are too often too much isolated from action, so that they run into vain and profitless speculation, having neither help for this life nor hope in that which is to come. It is the combination which helps: the judge sitting under the palm-tree, but Israel coming up to him for judgment. The moral of it all is, busy men, snatch moments for reflection! let no day be quite without it!

2. We see the true place and dignity of woman here in the positive and in the negative. Deborah was a prophetess. God spoke to her. She saw within and beneath the appearance of things. She did not allow the visible to crush out the invisible. She was not appalled by the nine hundred chariots of iron. She knew that there was still a God in Israel who rules in the kingdom of men, and though He bears long with evil, and sometimes sets up over nations the basest of men, He can yet be called on by prayer, and in the long run will make it to be well with the righteous. In a great emergency she became an influence; she called Barak to her, set him his task, assured him of his commission, and even consented at his request to accompany him on his march. This was heroic, but it was also feminine. Deborah did not assume the command of the army; she was the influence, she was the inspiration, but she left the leadership and the generalship to another. Not for nothing have we the record of another woman on the same page with that of Deborah. We shrink instinctively from the bloodstained hand of Jael. She has overstepped the line between the feminine and the masculine--nay, between the enthusiast and the fanatic. The excitement of victory might draw forth the impassioned cry even from one of the male sex, even from one of God’s utterers, “Blessed above women”; but that cry has never found even an echo in evangelical hearts; that cry has given trouble and pain to champions of revelation. We cannot receive it as the voice of God’s Spirit, except in some modified and softened-down form, in which it hails, and justly hails, the victory as a victory of the cause of the monotheistic idea as against the polytheistic; as a victory of the cause of progress, of the cause of development, and therefore in some sense the cause of mankind and of the world.

3. One last thought occurs, and it might seem at first hearing to conflict with the foregoing; but it is not so. Deborah says to Barak, “Hath not the Lord God of Israel commanded?” And he replies to her--a woman--“If thou wilt go with me, then I will go: but if thou wilt not go with me, then I will not go.” She rejoined yet again, “I will surely go with thee: notwithstanding the journey that thou takest shall not be for thine honour; for the Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” We are not concerned with the last phrase--“God shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” Scripture readers see the hand of God every-where--go so far as to say, “Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it?” We ask what was the point, what was the characteristic, the differentia in the faith of Barak, that the Epistle to the Hebrews should single him out for mention? And we find it here in the self-forgetfulness of Barak in doing God’s work. What if one woman set him on it, and another woman is to finish it? What if the journey he took was not to be for his own honour? Shall that stop him? What will the troops say if they see a woman marching by his side; see him consult her about his tactics; hear him confess that she is his monitress and his inspirer? Shall that thought deter him? No. He has God’s cause in hand; God’s honour, not his, is the thing to aim at. Here is faith forgetting itself in the cause. It is a grand heroism; for lack of it much good work is spoilt and much forborne. There is a phrase which more often disguises than precludes the self-glorifying. Humble instruments all call themselves; yet the same modest disclaimer asserts the instrumentality. Propose to omit the name from the subscription list or the list of patrons, where will the humble instrument be then? “The journey which thou takest shall not be for thine honour.” No, for one woman suggested it and another woman shall complete it. What then? Faith is willing to have it so; for faith is the sight of the invisible, and this arrangement will show the Invisible, the Doer. (Dean Vaughan.)

The duty of woman to women

It is a suggestive and on the whole perhaps a creditable fact that heroic women are not so interesting to women as to men. We read about that German prophetess who roused her people against the invaders from Rome, or about Joan of Arc, who, simple peasant girl that she was, communing with mysterious angels’ voices (as the legend runs), kindled the French nation against the English dominion when princes and statesmen had well-nigh given up the cause; or we read about Deborah, like St. Louis under the oak at Vincennes, sitting under a Judaean palm, not with downcast eyes and folded hands and extinguished hopes, but all on fire with faith and energy, with the soul of courage and the voice of command, and we are constrained to pay homage to her daring and her fearlessness, to her strong will and her unshrinking purpose. But if I were to ask any young girl whether she were ambitious of such a career, there is not one in a score who would say so. A woman’s idea of happiness and usefulness ordinarily centres in a home. We have been accustomed to hear the constantly reiterated assertion that “woman’s sphere is the home.” I confess for one that in view of the actual facts of society, as they exist around us, there is often in such words a sound of cruel irony. Do not you and I know, that there are thousands of women to whom a home is as impossible a thing as a castle in Spain? Do we not know that there are thousands of young girls who have no human being but themselves to depend upon, and who must somehow make their way and earn their own bread in life? Will you tell me how a home or anything else than a room and a hard, stern struggle for life is possible to these? We have now reached a point in the social progress of this age when it is necessary that we should every one of us recognise the crisis that is upon us. A much larger number of women must hereafter support themselves than have ever done so before. There are some callings from which, as it seems to me, women must for ever remain shut out. Any calling which requires conspicuous publicity, masculine activities, and out-door leadership is not, I venture to submit, for a woman. For one, I should not care to see her hanging from a yard-arm, driving a steam-engine, digging in a coal-mine, or vociferating in congress. But when we have eliminated from the question those occupations from which healthy self-respect would restrain any really womanly woman, there remain a vast range of employments on which women have not yet entered, but for which, nevertheless, they have singular and supreme qualifications. Already women have acquired the science of telegraphy, and they are, of course, more expert in it than men can possibly be. Women are already training themselves to be phonographic reporters. And here again their peculiar aptitudes are a pre-eminent qualification. Why should they not oftener provide for them an honourable maintenance? It is a curious and scarcely known fact that in the middle ages, the daughters as well as the sons in a family often inherited and carried on the family art or handicraft. When one goes to Nuremberg, or Prague, or Heidelberg, he will find bits of wood carving, artistic work in metal or stone, which no modern hand can pretend to rival. How are we to explain this earlier perfection? Simply on this wise: the calling of the father was the calling of the children. Exquisite workmanship was a hereditary trait. “Among goldsmiths the daughters executed chasing, among furniture-makers carving, among stone-masons sculpture, among engravers drawing and graving.” Could there be more pleasing or wholesome employment of one’s best aptitudes? It is time that every woman among us, and especially every young girl with culture and influence and social power, should awaken to the needs of her own sex. What Deborah was under the palm-tree at Mount Ephraim every brave and true-hearted woman is called to be in the service of as holy a cause and as precious interests. We call Deborah a prophetess, and so she was. We regard her as somehow separated by her rare natural endowments and her exceptional inspiration from the other women of her time, and so she was. But in a very real and a very living and lofty sense every woman is a prophetess, with a prophet’s gifts and a prophet’s calling. For what are prophets’ gifts but that Divine insight, that swift and heaven-born intuition, which is your rarest gift, your loftiest endowment? Shall I be opening an old wound if I say that it was a woman’s voice and pen that, more than any other, roused this land to the evils and the cruelties of slavery? and as truly I believe they must be women’s voices that must waken us men to the cruelties of that other servitude in which too often and too widely the weak of your sex are to-day oppressed. Do not, then, be afraid to lift your voice in any good cause that aims to elevate women to equal chance and equal respect and equal emolument with men in the great struggle of life. Be, each one of you, a Deborah to cry to some slumberous and sluggish Barak, “Up and do the Master’s Work, in the spirit of the Master’s example!” (Bp. H. C. Potter.)

If thou wilt go with me, then I will go.

Self-reliance

It was very natural that Barak should desire the presence of Deborah. She was a woman of natural influence, possessed of sagacity, able to read the signs of the times. As it has been said the best definition of a fool is a man who is wise too late, so the best definition of wisdom is wisdom at the right moment; and she possessed that wisdom, and understood what was the proper occasion when it was desirable to strike the blow for freedom. Her intellectual powers had made her influence great among the people; difficult cases were brought to her; her knowledge and her sagacity had won its way and established its influence in Israel. But it was not only natural; there was a certain appearance of piety in the profession. Deborah was not merely one of those persons whose gifts give them a high dominating influence over their fellow-beings, but she was believed by the people to be inspired by the breath of the Spirit of God. And, therefore, there was in their view a certain sanction of the Divine power which came, as it were, from her lips. Was it not, then, because he regarded her as the Divine representative that he said, “If thou wilt go with me I will go”? May we not argue further, and say precisely, because she was the one person in Israel at that time in whose words you could trace the meanings of the Divine Spirit, therefore was it not an attitude of the spirit of piety which would say, “I Cannot undertake this expedition alone; I must be assured of the presence of the prophetess of the Lord”? Is there not piety in the resolution, “If thou wilt go with me, then I will go”? And yet, it is necessary for us to try and understand the motive before we declare whether it is good or bad. “If thou wilt come with me, then I will go.” In what strain ought a man to face the obvious duties of life? Is it true that we are always to wait for the assistance of others, or are we bound to do what lies before us, regardless of the sympathy we may receive? The message sent by Deborah was an emphatic message, “Go there with ten thousand men, and I,” says the voice of the Lord, “will draw thy adversaries to the river Kishon.” There is not the slightest hint or any suggestion of condition; it is a plain, simple, and absolute order. The hour is come; the blow is to be struck; it is your duty to do it; here are your instructions. You know the class of persons who are never able to do any duty without the assistance of others; you know the schoolboy who always does his work when he can get his sister to stand beside him; you know the class of man who is always reluctant to quit with company and undertake any irksome duty by himself. He is not the character which impresses us as possessing strong, marked, or admirable lines. You want some one more determined and self-relying. If a duty has to be done, in the name of that duty, and in the name of your God who gives you that duty, do it like a man, and do not stop to make conditions which betray your weakness, and say, “If this condition be fulfilled, if I am assisted by the presence of another, then I think I can do my duty, but I do not think I can face the frowning face of duty alone.” I say this is a character which does not possess the highest order of self-reliance. It is also an answer which betrays slackness and feebleness of life. By the very law by which Israel was then governed, by the law of that very religious sentiment which had been operating in the minds of the chosen people, one thought was predominant in all their minds, “The Lord is the God of Israel.” It is the realisation of the Divine presence, and that alone, which marks the higher range of faith; the power to say, “I will go in His strength because He sends me, and I ask not Deborah to go with me to jeopardise her life; she has her work to do and I have mine to do, and the God who inspired her can make my hand strong.” But what was the result? As a fact the victory was won; but you know how truly the scorn of Deborah burst forth when she received the conditions of Barak, “If thou wilt go with me.” “Then let it be known that the laurels of this victory are not for thy brow. If thou hast thought that only with a woman at thy side thou canst face the crowning hour of battle, those honours which you would boast are reserved for a woman. The Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” Barak sinks down into the second place in the story, and the opportunity which might have been his was snatched from his hand, as in the hour when he was tested he betrayed weakness. What, then, should we gather from this? The enormous and measureless importance of self-reliance in every affair of life. Life is a constant movement from companionship into isolation. As I pass through the road of life I have to determine certain questions, and I must determine them by the law of my own existence and my own conscience as in the sight of God. Over and over again we are bound to have that experience. We think we have others to help us in certain matters, but the final decision rests with us. Does it not mean that in the purposes of God we are to be taught self-reliance? Sometimes we are told that Christianity is deficient in the virile virtues. That is only because we have misunderstood the story. What is the story of the Redeemer? Is it the story of one who relied so completely upon others that by a dexterous adjustment of His teaching to the wants of the day He was able so to establish His ascendancy over others as to be able to bring forward a community willing to be called by His name? That is the very reverse of the genesis of Christianity. (Bp. Boyd Carpenter.)

Influence

Every human being has influence, which is a part of himself, and helps to make up his personal being. And as long as he lives it goes out from him to others, for weal or for woe. Nay, more; it is not limited to time. Once having lived, it never dies. For the individual may go down to the tomb and perish; but his influence shall go on evermore.

I. We are accountable for our influence. This is evident from the very nature of influence. What is it? It is power; the power of one will over another. This power and authority go forth from us to others in various ways--in speech, by action, by the glance of the eye, by the expression of feeling, by the show of passion, by the play of the countenance, by the motion of the hand, by our dress, our habits, our style of living, and our conduct. And now I ask--if I cause a man to do an act, am I not responsible, i.e., so far forth as I lead him to do it? Of course I am not to bear the entire burden of his conduct, for he is a man as well as I, and he is bound to think and judge for himself. But if I am the stronger, more controlling character, and use my influence to guide him astray, and start him on his way to ruin, surely I am responsible for what I do. But it is manifest that this principle is not one that is local, partial, or limited. It is a broad, general, universal principle; pertaining to souls under all circumstances. And see how it reaches our fellow-creatures on every side, with awful significance and tremendous power. I am responsible for my influence; I am held accountable by the Almighty for the way in which I affect and prompt the souls of my fellow-men. Then I am responsible for my influence upon you. Then you are responsible for your influence upon me; and each and every one of us is responsible for the influence we exert upon our neighbours. Then we are responsible for the channels by which our influence goes forth from us to others. And we are responsible for their outflowings; and though the influence of a man differs somewhat, in kind, from his specific acts, yet the law of Divine justice comes in here, with the same force and authority as in any outward deed.

II. The measure of our responsibility is proportioned to our influence. Herein lies our stewardship. We are stewards of God in the particular item of influence. A little girl is beloved by her schoolmate; and so great power has she over her, that that schoolmate will do anything she wants her to do, good or bad. She is responsible for her control over that child’s soul, and to God. They are both responsible for the power they possess, the one over the other. Here is a man in a community, of such commanding power, whether through wealth, talent, or character, that everybody quotes him as authority, and aims to follow in his track. As sure as God liveth, He will hold him responsible for his popularity and his power.

III. Influence is an awful, a perilous thing when it assumes the form and proportions of mastery and control. And this is often the case. The mass of men, the world over, are governed by opinion and example. Imitation, too, is a most powerful agent in deciding the convictions and habits of men. No doubt it is God’s will that certain prominent men should have authoritative influence; that is their calling; to that they are elected by the Almighty Himself, to the end that they may help to quicken inferior wills, and to decide human destinies. Thus in the family relation the words of a father or mother go with children to mature manhood, and may descend to children’s children. How in our school-days our hearts have become knit “as with hooks of steel” to companions whom we have loved as Jonathan loved David, with a “love passing the love of women.” I have myself seen men moving about through a nation, after whom millions of men flowed as with the mighty current of a torrent; and when they spoke, momentous questions were settled, as though decisive utterances had come forth from an oracle or a god. But the illustrations of this controlling influence of men is as common in the lowlier spheres of life as in the higher. Sometimes a grand, noble parent serves his generation and blesses it, and then sends down the crystal purity of his honour and the odour of his sanctity to children’s children. Sometimes it is the reverse, and the alcoholic blood and the alcoholic breath of a drunkard triumphs over the dominion of the grave, and reaches over a whole generation of men to his descendants, poisoning the atmosphere and polluting society by the sottishness of sons and grandsons. (A. Crummell.)

Is not the Lord gone out before thee?--

A sermon for the new year

Wherever we may be called upon to go, our Lord has gone before us.

I. We are entering into darkness. God is light. What does it matter what we see, or whether we see at all, if He has seen and known that the way is safe?

II. We are entering upon uncertainty. But all things are fixed and ordered by God’s power, and from knowledge.

III. We are entering upon difficulty. God is almighty in power.

IV. We are to meet with pain and death. God cannot die. Learn:

1. To distrust all human help and consolation.

2. To trust in Him who is so well able to do for us, and to be to us all we need.

3. To implicitly follow and confidently resign ourselves to His leadership. (Homilist.)