Gideon Pt. 2: “This is Sparta!”
By Rev. Dr. Jason Byassee
Sunday, July 20, 2025
Reading: Judges 7:1-8, 15-25
Sometimes—not too often but sometimes— Jesus says something that makes sense.
Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether you have enough to complete it? Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? If he cannot, then while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. (Luke 14:28 & 31-32).
That seems reasonable. Measure twice cut once. Do the math, and if you can’t win, don’t fight. In its context, Jesus is saying we should consider the cost of following him. And if we can’t prefer him to our family or our possessions we shouldn’t even bother. Turn back now. Severe, but it makes sense.
Our story from the Book of Judges makes no sense. It’s outlandish. It is a parable. The sort of teaching Jesus gives that leaves everybody wondering “huh? Run that by me one more time.” Parables intentionally delay or defy meaning. They work on time release. They burrow their way into your skull, leave you scratching, unsatisfied, and then when you do finally come to an understanding, you realize, nah, that doesn’t work either. A parable, well, let me illustrate it with this story from Judges. Because this doesn’t make sense in any rational universe.
The Israelites are ready to do battle against their Midianite neighbours. In Israel’s scripture, we the people are always either fighting or sleeping with our neighbours and enemies. Anyone ever been married? Good, you get it. This is one of the fighting-with stories. Gideon the judge has 32,000 soldiers. That’s not too bad, he’s got a reasonable chance with an army that size. And God says, ‘Oh no, no, no, this won’t do, too many soldiers, we need to get rid of lots, or else you’ll think you won because of your prowess and not by my might. So, any of the 32,000 afraid? Send em home.’ And 22,000 go! Two-thirds of the army! I’m surprised they’re that honest. Veterans describe soldiering as 99 percent boredom and 1 percent terror. But most don’t admit to fear in the field. These two-thirds do, and Gideon is left with a third of his original force. If he’s following Jesus’ advice, he’s thinking about not fighting at this point.
If you’re surprised at this turn in the story, like I am, let me show you another. It’s from Deuteronomy. I share it knowing you assume the Old Testament is full of violence, whereas Jesus is a peace-loving guy. If you think that, listen up.
When you go out to war against your enemies and see horses and chariots, an army larger than your own, do not fear them, for the Lord your God is with you, who brought you up from the land of Egypt ... 5 Then the officers shall address the troops, saying, ‘Has anyone built a new house but not dedicated it? He should go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another dedicate it. 6 Has anyone planted a vineyard but not yet enjoyed its fruit? He should go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another be first to enjoy its fruit. 7 Has anyone become engaged to a woman but not yet married her? He should go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another marry her.’ 8 The officers shall continue to address the troops, saying, ‘Is anyone afraid or disheartened? He should go back to his house, or he might cause the heart of his comrades to melt like his own.’
Gideon is just living out what Deuteronomy commands. If anything, he missed a few classes of non-combatants: new spouse, new house, new vineyard, go home, enjoy, live life well, fight later. I don’t think this is what they teach at the Royal Military College in Kingston, is it?
The Old Testament is actually the way to peace.
Back to Gideon. God says, “The troops are still too many.” Ten thousand won’t do at all. So, take them down to the water to drink, whoever laps the water like a dog put to one side, whoever kneels down and scoops the water put to the other. Three hundred get down in the mud and lap. Nine thousand, seven hundred gracefully kneel and scoop. Now, if you don’t know what this means, join the club. Commentators ancient and modern all say, “Hmm, that’s weird, uh, anybody got any ideas?” Some say the ones lapping would be more alert, able to look around for enemies while drinking. More religiously now, some say kneeling is something you do only for God, it looks like idolatry otherwise. But nobody knows. God sends the 9700 home and keeps the 300 with mud on their front. God has whittled Gideon’s army down from 32,000 to 300, by 99 percent. Which of you, buying a property, would throw away 99 percent of your down payment before the day of closing? Which of you, building a building, would get rid of all your building materials and workers the day before construction starts? None. This is a parable. Judges is being outrageous.
There are stories in the Bible of Israel fighting like a normal army. Martialing all the soldiers it can get, using the best strategy, and sometimes winning, sometimes losing. This is not one of those stories. This is more like the Exodus of old. Israel was a nation of slaves, no weapons, just old people and babies in the desert, helpless and defenseless. The sea on one side. Pharaoh’s army crashing down on the other. There is no way out of this, only death. Until God makes a way out of no way. The nation of slaves passes through the sea that closes on Pharaoh whose chariots bob in the water like corks. Right before this miracle that births Israel, God instructs Moses: “The Lord will fight for you. You have only to stand still.” Again, advice I’m not sure lands on the curriculum at West Point or Sandhurst. This is the founding event in Israel’s life. The late rabbi Jonathan Sacks describes Israel this way: “The only God there is intervenes in history personally to free slaves.”
The Gideon story is the Exodus all over again. If Gideon fought with plenty of soldiers and won, he could take glory for himself. But if there are no soldiers, then it’s clear the Lord wins the battle, and not Gideon. Not Israelite might or courage.
Ever feel like everything is arrayed against you? Only a few assets on your side? God seems to say here: park those assets. The only thing I want you to trust is me.
Pastor Dayle gave me the title “This is Sparta.” It’s a reference to the movie 300, a graphic comic inspired telling of the battle of Thermopylae, when 300 Spartans held off hundreds of thousands of Persian invaders in 480 BC. That battle is the reason we look to ancient Greece for stories in the west, and not to Persia, it’s key for how Europe became Europe. But let’s be clear: the Spartans didn’t prefer to have only 300 soldiers. In Judges, God sends all the Israelite assets away and then says, perfect, we got em right where we want em.
Just before the 31,700 soldiers depart, we get this detail: those remaining take from those departing their “their trumpets.” Not their swords or spears or shields but their trumpets. As if this were a music band of 300 and not an army. Then we get Gideon’s strategy. The 300 remaining are divided into three companies. Military tacticians know you don’t divide your force if you’re outnumbered, that’s how you get conquered piecemeal. Each soldier gets a trumpet. And each gets a torch inside a clay jar. They surround the Midianite camp, and in the middle of the night, at the changing of the watch, they all smash the jars and blow the trumpets. Now, the enemy look, bleary eyed, and see themselves surrounded with torches and noise. And they lose their minds. “And all the men in camp ran; they cried out and fled. 22 When they blew the three hundred trumpets, the Lord set every man’s sword against his fellow and against all the army, and the army fled.”
It is a complete victory. The Midianites are routed, their leaders killed. It is the Exodus all over again. God gets credit for the resounding victory and Israel is delivered. Later scripture remembers the day of Midian as a codeword for miraculous deliverance. The Psalmist prays when surrounded by enemies, “Do to them as you did to Midian ... O my God make them like whirling dust, like chaff before the wind” (Ps. 83:9 & 13). And in a story a little more familiar to you, Isaiah 9, read at Christmas time: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light ... for the yoke of their burden and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian.” (Is 9:2 & 4).
Now, I have to say, there is some military reason restored at this point. A small force making itself seem big and noisy and dangerous in the middle of the night—that’s good psyop warfare. That part of this story is taught at Kingston and West Point. It’s the weapon of the weak to confuse and terrify. The great Sun Tzu, Chinese military genius, often said the best battle is one you never have to fight. Israel is armed not with weapons but with torches and noisemakers and wins the day with 300 over a multitude. A worrying final note. As they enter the fray they cry out, “A sword for the Lord and for Gideon.” That’s the only mention of swords in the story. And the mention of Gideon suggests he does get some credit. As we’ll see next week when Joanne preaches, it goes to his head.
So, what do we make of this story? What do we take from it for our lives? One of you last week told me your spouse stayed home because of the Book of Judges. ‘He’ll be back when the series is done.’ Uh, not my goal, come back sooner, we need you. But it’s a fair point: we come to church for wisdom for how to live well. So, lay it on us preacher.
Wendell Berry is one of the great moral consciences of our time. He was a promising young writer, loving New York City literati life in the 60s. Then he retired to his ancestral home in Kentucky where he still farms without most modern tools. He still writes, including this gem of a poem called “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”.
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Someone wise noted that chess players go mad. Poets do not. You can’t blame the chess players. There are more possible outcomes to a game of chess than there are molecules in the universe: uncountable, infinite, good luck memorizing all the patterns. Poets marvel in the unknowable. That’s what the Gideon story says. What Jesus’ parables say. What God says. This is God’s unfathomable world. Rejoice in it above all else. And practice resurrection.
Jonathan Sacks, who I mentioned earlier, told a story of when the newly reconstituted nation of Israel was struggling with the British for their own state. A farmer turned soldier was in jail for opposing British rule. His wife wrote him: “Chaim, I’m very proud of you. But it’s planting season, and we have no one to plow the field.”
He wrote back, knowing censors were reading: “Chava, don’t plow the field, I’ve hid weapons in the field.” The censors read that and went and plowed up the field looking for those weapons. They found none. Chaim wrote Chava and said, “Now, my dear, you may plant the potatoes.” Sacks would conclude: We Jews are not many, only 0.2 percent of world population, only 15 million out of eight billion, but we are clever. We can prevail against impossible odds.
What does it do to a people to imagine themselves miraculously delivered? We were slaves in Egypt. We had Pharaoh’s army on this side, the Red Sea on that, no way out. Until God made a way. For us Christians, baptism is our Exodus, life in Christ is our promised land. We shouldn’t be here. But God made a way out of no way. God hates slavery and loves freedom enough that God only works Exodus. It happens all over again with Gideon. Send 99 percent of the soldiers home, make a ruckus, and the enemy will flee. We owe our existence not to swords but to jars and the trumpets. I’ve heard this describes well the story of the black church, Welsh people, indigenous Canadians, and Jews: they tried to kill us. We’re still here. Let’s eat. That’s church y’all!
Jesus comes from this tradition of uproarious irrationality in Israel. Jewish hopes had been reasonable: for deliverance from Rome and independence as in the days of David and Solomon. God’s answer to countless prayers was to become flesh. Teach and do miracles. Suffer and die. And then rise from the dead. Okay, not what we were praying for. But God says it’s better than what you were praying for. This is salvation for the whole world. Not just for Israel but for gentiles too. You and I shouldn’t be here. We’re in relationship to the God of Israel through faith in Jesus Christ. He snuck us in the back door when we weren’t on the guest list, scooted us in the servant’s entrance, sat us with princes and kings and he says, ‘these are my beloveds: the poor, the outcasts, those with nowhere else to go.’
How happy would we be if we really believed that?!
I knew a 95-year-old man once who every day he woke up, he blinked and said, “hey, I get another one of these!” That’s our spiritual posture, Christians. We open our eyes and can’t believe it: by faith we get another day. Until Christ’s endless day.
Jesus teaches this way: leave the 99. Go get the sorry straggler. Flowers in the field are dressed better than celebrities on magazine covers. Don’t count money or soldiers. I count the hairs on your head and cups of cold water to strangers. Crowds lie and crucify. I’ll take two or three gathered in fragile faith. And swords? Get rid of them. The battle is the Lord’s alone.
There are faiths out there that make sense. Founders who, when you ask a question, they answer it. Ways of life that boil things down to a slogan to live by. But all we got are these outlandish stories and a saviour on a cross. And I’m going to suggest something to you: it’s enough. This is all we need. Thanks be to God. Amen.