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    Jun 30, 2019

    Deborah - 2

    Deborah - 2

    Passage: Judges 4:1-20

    Speaker: Rev. Vivian McCarthy, Pastor

    The peasantry prospered in Israel, they grew fat on plunder, because you arose, Deborah, arose as a mother in Israel. ~Judges 5:7

    Deborah was recognized as a leader of Israel even before God judged her into the role of military leader.  She had earned a great deal of respect in her community, recognized for her wisdom.  People sought her out for help.  She had the gift of assessment and processing the assessment to help her neighbors find peace and the right direction.

    She wasn’t a “normal” choice for a leader, but God doesn’t choose leaders the same way we do.  For God, the best leaders are the best servants, and their leadership is grounded by their submission to God.

    First and foremost, Deborah looked to God and made sure that people knew that God was the one is worthy to be praised.  We didn’t see a lot of that in the context of this story, but we did sing about it a little bit ago.  Chapter 5 of Judges is the Song of Deborah, and it is the source of the text of Canta, Deborah, Canta.  The refrain says it all, repeating numerous times:  For our God is good!  God is good!  Remember that Israel had pretty much forgotten God altogether, so reminding the people of God’s goodness was a potent reminder and call to return to God so that they would recover – that they would again know God’s favor.

    Secondly, Deborah was a collaborator.  She didn’t need to take center stage.  She looked for and depended on those who had skills that were needed for the task.  Barak was the military guy.  He knew how to pull off a battle.  Deborah, not so much!  But thirdly, when Barak balked and told her that he needed Deborah to go with him, she didn’t really bat an eye.  She did what had to be done – she agreed to go.

    If we are aware, we see these attributes in Deborah’s actions in the part of the story we just heard.  Deborah heard God’s call to deliver the people of Israel from their groaning and the oppression of the Canaanites – even though they had clearly brought it all on themselves – and Deborah used her prodigious organizational skills to accomplish the task.

    There was a significant purpose in what Deborah was about – the core of the story, really.  She was tasked to bring the people of Israel back to Yahweh.  The story is about spiritual renewal – re-centering.  I hesitate to say repentance, because I don’t see evidence of repentance in the story.  Groaning and crying out because they felt oppressed, but not an “I’m sorry” in these chapters. 

    I know I said this last week, but this was GOD reaching out to give them relief and deliver on the promise of delivering them to the Land of Canaan – the Promised Land.  They had at least 4 times blown it – living in the promised land but all the while sampling the exotic treats of Canaan, not living God’s way.

    This story, pure and simple, is about coming back to God after a time of wandering.

    For the people to get back, they had to realize what they had lost, listen to someone they trusted, fight off the source of their pain and suffering and turn toward God.

    Those 900 iron chariots were truly scary!  It would have been so much easier to let things stay the way they were.  The one thing missing from the story is any reference to how the Israelites really “got it.” 

    How do we “get it” when we’ve wandered off?  What helps you to know when you’ve left God behind?  What convicts you so that you know that you have forgotten that the Lord your God is one?  What makes you realize that God is no longer first in your life?

    It isn’t just the people of Israel who are pulled this way and that, finding the shiny things that vie for first place in your heart and life.  In my heart and life.

    I read a little story this week that spoke to me, and I hope will also speak to you:

    Giving new bedding plants some rough treatment at planting time, says Jan Riggenbach in her newspaper column on gardening, “may be the best thing you can do to help them survive in the garden.  When I was new to gardening, I tried to set tomatoes, petunias, and other bedding plants in the garden without disturbing their roots at all.  Nowadays, I’m much more ruthless….”
     
    She says that she squeezes the bottoms of the flexible plastic pots to get the plants out of their container and then she inspects the soil ball.
     
    “If the plant has been growing in its pot so long that the roots are circling the bottom,” says Riggenbach, “I jab my finger into the bottom of the soil and pull down to untangle the roots…If the whole pot is filled with circling roots, I have to be merciless.  I don’t worry if I break some of the roots; that’s better than allowing the roots to continue to circle when the plants are growing in the garden.  Most bedding plants shrug off this rough treatment.”
     
    The editor of the book who shared this story went on:
     
    Christians often resemble rootbound plants.  We grow complacent and comfortable where we are.  Our roots circle around and around in the same small area, no longer reaching out for life and nourishment and growth.   

    I would add this:  What if we are no longer reaching out for God?  What if we are no longer listening for God?  What if we are simply taking matters into our own hands like Abram tried to do?  (I know that’s a stretch – I’m asking you to connect this story to the one we explored two Sundays ago!!)

    Deborah led the people of Israel into battle – apparently her version of pulling on the roots.  It was literally a battle for the souls of the people of Israel, and she saw the need for the people to recover a deep connection with God – the kind of connection that is the heart of the Christian faith for us – the kind that William Featherstone wrote about in his hymn:

    My Jesus, I love thee, I know thou art mine;
    for thee all the follies of sin I resign;
    my gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou;
    if ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
     
    I love thee because thou hast first loved me
    and purchased my pardon on Calvary's tree;
    I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;
    if ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.