Renewal Begins with Baal-Fighters

By the time we get to Judges 6, we’re in a groove. We know the beat of the book: Israel does evil, Yahweh hands them over to an oppressor, they cry out to Yahweh, so he raises a judge to deliver them. Afterward, they’re good for a decade or two. Judges 6 starts with the same motif: Israel does evil, Yahweh gives them into the hands of Midian. Then there’s a breach in the rhythm, with an extended account of locust-like Midianites who raid Israel, plunder Israel’s harvest, and turn the land to desert. Israel flees underground, into caves and dens. They don’t just need a judge. They need a resurrection.

When Israel cries out, the Lord doesn’t send a judge, not at first. He sends a prophet instead. That could be a good thing, since the last prophet in Judges was Deborah the prophetess who appointed Barak to summon an army to save Israel. This new prophet is no Deborah. He offers no reassurance but delivers a covenant lawsuit. He reminds Israel of everything Yahweh has done, accuses Israel of disobedience, and vanishes. Israel doesn’t respond at all. They don’t repent, and they don’t try to kill the prophet. They’ve become so indifferent they can’t even muster the energy to rebel. It’s as if everyone has gone blind, deaf, and dumb.

Finally, we get to a judge, but the story still breaks the mold. We know almost nothing about previous judges—Othniel, Shamgar, Ehud, Deborah, and Barak. None gets an origin story, but Gideon does. Yahweh’s angel comes to Gideon in Ophrah and sits under a terebinth tree belonging to Joash, Gideon’s father. Ophrah means “dusty”; Midianite raids have wasted Gideon’s hometown. Deborah sat under a tree to judge Israel, but this terebinth appears to be a sacred tree to Baal. Yahweh’s angel invades enemy territory, which Baal the fertility god has turned into a wilderness.

The angel finds Gideon threshing wheat in a winepress to hide it from the Midianites. Not an auspicious start, but at least Gideon’s not in a cave, and he has some wheat to thresh. Wheat in a winepress: That raises our hopes. Perhaps this man will drive away the locusts and restore the bounty of the land, its grain, wine, and oil. Commissioning Gideon to save Israel, the angel calls him a “valiant warrior” and says he’ll save Israel by his “strength.” Gideon doesn’t look or sound strong. He accuses Yahweh of abandoning Israel, and protests that he’s too small and insignificant to take this role. Moses raised similar objections, and so, later, did Jeremiah. Yahweh (for it is he) promises to be with Gideon, and encourages him, as he did Moses, with a sign. Gideon sets bread, flour, and a young goat under the terebinth. (The Hebrew gediy puns on Gideon’s name; Gideon is a “kid.”) The angel tells him to move it all to a rock, and he sets fire to it with a touch of his staff. The change of location is crucial to the sign: If Gideon worships at the rock instead of under the tree, if he worships the Rock of Israel instead of the Baal of Ophrah, he will deliver Israel. The God of fire will go with him. 

The prophet’s message was, in effect: “You’re tormented because you’ve abandoned Yahweh. You need to renew the conquest, destroy every idol and sacred pillar, cut down the green trees where you offer sacrifice to Baal.” The angel relays the same message to Gideon and instructs him to take down his father’s altar to Baal. “Gideon” means “Hacker,” and he lives up to the name. He dismantles the altar, turns the wooden Asherah pole to kindling, and sacrifices Joash’s bull on an altar to Yahweh, which he builds on the crushed “head” of the desecrated altar. In the morning, the men of Ophrah discover their altar is gone and clamor to lynch Gideon. Israel is supposed to execute idolaters, but Israel has become so upside-down they’re eager to kill anyone who opposes their idols and ready to turn against their Messiah. Joash challenges Baal to defend himself. His statement is ambiguous, but it sets the trajectory of the drama: If Baal is god, he’ll take vengeance on Gideon, now called “Jerubbaal,” “Baal-fighter.” On the other hand, every moment Gideon continues to live and breathe is further proof against Baal’s deity.

By demolishing the altar in Ophrah, Gideon sharply clarifies the question facing Israel. Despite their political situation, the issue isn’t political but theological: Who is God? If Baal is god, serve him. If Yahweh is God, every vestige of Baal must be purged. As the story unfolds, Yahweh holds center stage. Gideon is hesitant, fearful, reluctant. He doesn’t deliver Israel, Yahweh does. Yahweh proves he’s God, and Baal is nothing.

By the time we get to Judges 6, we’re used to judges who get right to work, forging two-edged swords, swinging oxgoads, pounding tent pegs into the skulls of enemies. Gideon’s story teases a battle, then repeatedly, deliberately frustrates expectations. We eventually get a battle, but the narrative puts first things first. Psalm 135 says that idolaters become like the idols they worship, their eyes unseeing, their ears deaf, the hands powerless, their tongues mute. If Israel is going to be raised from the dead, Gideon first needs to demolish the idols in his own house. Judgment starts at home. For the church too, this is always the issue. Whatever political upheavals she faces, idolatry is the perennial and fundamental threat. Renewal always begins with Hackers and Baal-Fighters.