The Hope of Glory

by E. C. Dargan - 1919

The Story Of A Great Hero With A Fault

THAT dark age of Hebrew history known as the period of the Judges was dragging its weary length through the centuries. The lapses of the people from the true worship and service of God had again and again brought disaster and oppression. At the time of our story the land lay under the tyranny and robbery of the wild Arab peoples to the East and South of Palestine. We are unhappily only too painfully aware of how cruel and destructive these Eastern peoples could be. The cry of the Armenian in this twentieth century has been lifted to God and man against the unspeakable cruelties and oppressions of the Turk. We used to say that such savagery belonged to ancient, uncivilized peoples, but the world stands aghast at the spectacle of such horrors as our own time is witnessing.

The scattered, enfeebled people of Israel were an easy prey to the fierce and warlike hosts of Midian. Fields and homes were ruthlessly desolated. The growing crops were trampled under foot. The gathered grain was seized and carried off, the flocks and herds driven away. The people were left in poverty and despair. Near the center of the country, in the half tribe of Manasseh, to the west of the Jordan, there was a family of considerable importance. A father was blessed with a number of fine sons. All of these had been slain by the ruthless conquerors except one, who somehow had escaped. One day, accompanied perhaps by his servants and his own youthful sons, he had hidden himself beside the winepress to escape the notice of his foes while he threshed out the scanty remains of his wheat harvest. Perhaps while thus furtively engaged, his devout soul was lifted in prayer to God for his downtrodden people. While the others were perhaps out of immediate touch, or he had sought some hidden spot to pray, a messenger from the skies draws near and salutes the brave, strong man with these strange words: ”God is with thee, thou mighty man of valor.’’

Without any irreverence or distrust the plea of the patriot comes first to his lips when he replies, ”If the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us?” This natural and pathetic remonstrance brings a reassuring word from the heavenly one: ”Go in this thy might, and thou shalt save Israel from the hands of the Midianites.” What a salutation! Here was manifest destiny. Here was the awakening of a heroic spirit. Here was the divine summons that comes but once in a lifetime for a man to gather up his best manhood, his whole intense, throbbing selfhood for the supreme task that awaits him. The spark is slowly kindled. The modest and reluctant hero still argues. Not quite satisfied, but burning and yearning in his soul, he pleads for a little more time. He asks the heavenly visitant to wait and receive an oblation at his hands. He would parley longer with his celestial guest and gain more of hope and heartening for the tremendous undertaking that lay before him. Returning with his oblation he lays it down under the tree upon a rock. The angel smites it with his staff. A flame shoots up to burn the sacrifice, and the messenger retires. Like many another man, conscious of sin and realizing the immediate presence of God, the hero was smitten with awe and wholesome fear of the divine. But God spoke in the innermost sanctuary of his being and gave him peace. There between God and a great soul a partnership of power was made, and already in Israel’s night the first faint streak of dawn appears.

One of the causes of Israel’s overthrow had been neglect and denial of God. The idolatry of the surrounding peoples, their own too easy consent, had brought in forgetfulness of God, decay of religion, growth of superstition and all sorts of corrupt practices. Any man who would lead Israel to deliverance and victory must make his break with existing entanglements. This was no time to palter with evil, to speak soft words of compromise with the forces of sin and decay. Promptly the fine intelligence and heroic soul of this great leader saw this point. That very night, in his own father’s town, where idolatry had entered, he broke down the altar of the strange god and cut to pieces the idolatrous images about it. Astonishment took hold upon the people next morning when they saw what had been done. He was not a man to deny his deed, but faced the angered crowd and acknowledged the act as his. Among the many heroic deeds of this man’s life this stands out. When a man can face his own friends and kindred in a daring act of righteousness which is opposed to their apparent interests and to their feelings he proves himself a hero. This was the decisive deed and turning point in the man’s career. What followed was but the large development of this splendid and heroic action. His own father, and a few choice spirits defended the man and his deed. The hour had struck.

While this was going on in one family and village, the great hosts of the conquering enemy, having crossed the Jordan, had spread themselves in the beautiful valley of Jezreel, which has been through many centuries, like poor little Belgium, the battlefield of the nations. ’All over this beauteous expanse of country the tents of the mighty hosts were pitched. Gorgeously bedecked camels, with chains of gold about their necks, silken tents, lavish display of jewelry marked the easy confidence and show of the mighty hosts. Sure of their prey and of their spoil, they gave themselves up to festivity and display. The news, or more likely the quick vision of some part of this great array came to our hero and stirred his mighty spirit. God himself touched that brave heroic heart, and while the sounds of revelry were heard throughout the enemy’s camp, the keen and searching blast of a tiny horn rang out a signal call from one of the hills nearby. His own village heard the stirring note of that warlike summons, and came to the sound. It was a fine response, but how few seemed this little handful. Others, too, must be allowed to join in and share the danger and daring and the hope. Messengers were sent throughout the land, and a multitude gathered. Still they seemed so few, nor were they trained soldiers.

The heart of the general craved reassurance from God. Without divine aid it would still be a hopeless fight, and without divine reassurance even the hero would hesitate. So in secret prayer once more ”the mighty man of valor” begs for a sign. And with a bowl and a fleece he gains from God a promise and token of assurance and of victory. Hesitation disappears; courage rises; confidence animates; the morning comes and the great adventure must be made. About 32,000 men had gathered in response to the leader’s call. They were, however, untrained and unprepared, and over against the mighty hosts of invaders they still seemed pitifully few. Now comes that strange intimation from God that even these were more than were needed to accomplish the victory. God spoke in the soul of the leader and said, ”Israel might vaunt himself if he gained a victory with an army like this.” God did not need so many. Boldly and confidently the general advised all who desired to go back home. Terrified at the large army of invaders, 22,000 were glad to return to the quiet of their homes; 10,000 remained. What could these do against a multitude? The strange dealing of God still goes on with the hero, and he is advised to sift out a few of the choicest spirits even from the small number remaining. By a simple test proving foresight and confidence in the presence of danger a choice hand of 300 only is selected. Those who remained were to be held in reserve for pursuit and for the finishing touches of the victory, but on the chosen 300 the surprise attack of the night was to devolve. From some height 300 picked and splendid men stood and looked down upon the beautiful valley, filled with the tents and trappings of a great and powerful army. What thoughts were theirs we cannot say, but no doubt the dauntless soul of their hero and leader had made every man of them as one with their chief. He was confident in the promise of God, and resolute with that splendid courage which had stamped him already as ”a mighty man of valor.” God was still gracious to him in the way of giving him encouragement, and suggested that with his armour-bearer alone he should, during the night, spy about the camp of the foe. A great risk it was, but he did not decline it, and the two of them, quietly moving near the guards, overheard one telling his companion a dream; how a coarse barley cake had rolled against a tent and dashed it to the ground. Their own interpretation of this dream was that it meant the overthrow of their host at the hand of this already famous chieftain. Two things were brought to the leader’s attention by this incident. One was that already there was a dread of him and his forces in the minds of his enemies. The other was a careful observation of the ground and a plan of attack.

There are many instances on record in history of great hosts of men who have been terrified and put to flight. So common was this in ancient times that the’ fright of a multitude earned the name of ”panic” fear from the Greek word which means ”all.” It is a fearful thing to witness a panic. Fear communicates itself rapidly from one to another, and a whole crowd is thrown into confusion and terror. Losing their senses people seek refuge in flight. They tread upon one another, and sometimes from a very slight cause terrible disasters follow. Sometimes these panics have smitten great armies, even of brave men, and they have become demoralized, fleeing in terror from the field. A sudden surprise in the night-time has more than once in the annals of warfare produced effects like this. Confident in God and in the skill and courage of his picked little band of men, the leader quickly makes his dispositions for a surprise. His 300 could make no headway in an open fight against a host, but if by some clever ruse he could manage to produce the impression that he was in command of a great and surrounding army, he might hope to throw the host into a panic. This was his plan. The story of his triumphant success is well known. All around the camp, here and there, upon some open space where a light could flash, he posted his men. Armed only with a hidden light, with a ringing trumpet, each one was suddenly to display his light, blow his trumpet, and join in a mighty shout, a slogan of victory. The ruse succeeded to the letter. That great host became smitten with panic fear. They thought they were surrounded by a multitude. From every side flashing lights, blowing trumpets, shouts of victory resounded. Losing all prudence and all command, leaving their tents and treasures, the great host sought safety in flight. They became an easy prey to their pursuers, who now increased and redoubled as they joined in the chase of the frantic fugitives. Divided and scattered, the mighty army melted away. One part, under high command, was pursued and overthrown by a neighboring tribe of Israel. The other, perhaps the main one, was followed by the leader and his tireless band, who, faint yet pursuing, went on to complete the destruction so wonderfully begun.

Stern and cool, this man who was born for command rebukes and punishes the half-hearted, captures and slays the enemies of his people, allays with wise and diplomatic speech the discontent of some who felt aggrieved because they had not been summoned in the first instance. The conquering hero returns amid the acclamations of his rescued and grateful countrymen. Wild enthusiasm rings out when the hero is welcomed home. It was a great and splendid triumph. At once the people desired to make him king, permanent leader of their now delivered and restored country. But with modesty as great as his courage, and wisdom in government as well as in war, he declines, and points them to God, to whom alone the victory was due.

Here, at the height of his triumph, we would willingly leave him. But alas! no human being, however great, is free from fault and weakness. Why should a selfish and unworthy thought creep into the mind of a great man at the very highest moment of his greatness? He would not have a crown, but with strange inconsistency he asks that he may be rewarded by the gift of the jewels captured from the foe. Spreading his garment upon the ground, he receives rings and jewels from the men who passed by and willingly threw them down to grant their leader’s request. They act cheerfully, but he was wrong to ask and accept such a tribute. It was too small a thing for a great man to do. There was a worse element in it. Out of this spoil he made some sort of image or decorated robe, to serve as a kind of oracle. The vision vouchsafed him in the beginning of his career, and the signs graciously granted to encourage him were thus abused. Vanity and self-interest had turned his head. This beauteous creation of his greed and superstition became a snare to his own family and to his people. Alas! his own sons became unworthy of him, and after his death his people fell again into idolatry and wickedness. Mournful indeed is it to wind up a career of glory with a hurtful fault like this. More than once in the sad history of mankind has a hero shown some fatal weakness and damaged his own influence and hurt the cause by his folly. Let such a painful and miserable ending of so great and splendid a career remind us of our constant need of God. The only safeguard for any man, however great he may be, is the presence and help of God, especially in the hour of his temptation. Vanity and superstition are not dead. Pride of achievement easily degenerates into selfishness, and the abuse of religious privilege may end in senseless and unworthy superstition.

From this shadowed close let us turn back to that brilliant beginning, that hour of loneliness and of destiny, when a hero met his God. It was a time when a man, in the ordinary pursuits of life, at a great crisis in his nation’s life, met with his opportunity, divinely brought, seized the occasion, responded to the call of the Highest, and bravely went forth to accomplish a mighty deliverance for his people and imperishable renown for himself. No later fault can wholly dim the glory of that time. Every man is at his best when, even in the simple tasks of life, his soul responds to the call of the divine, and whether on some great field and in some great emergency, or in a humble sphere and through the daily drudgery, he who hears and heeds the voice of God is the man of the hour.

The great world war has shown us that heroic courage and staunch patriotism are not of the past alone. In the annals of the older countries and our own new records of dauntless valor and splendid victory have been written. Oh! that these inspiring examples, ancient and modern, may not be lost upon those who have to fight in every age the battle of the Lord against the hosts of evil in all the earth!

The Son of God goes forth to war
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar;
Who follows in His train!

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