Family Life in the Days of the Judges: Gideon

In the previous article in this series, we noted the centrality of the Gideon narrative to the book of Judges. The story of Gideon is the hinge around which the book turns, a watershed moment in the decline of the nation. In a very general way, we noted too the importance of family in Gideon’s story. In this article we will look in more detail at the family life of this distinguished judge. As we do so, a solemn and sobering truth emerges: the sphere of the family was both the arena where Gideon experienced his greatest victory and the area where he exhibited his most serious failure. His victory had important implications for himself; his failure had serious results for his family. And his victory and defeat alike had massive and lasting consequences for the nation as a whole.

Gideon’s great victory consisted in this: he was not defined by his family. On one level, this might seem an implausible claim, for the narrator of Judges seems very keen to define Gideon in just this way. On seven occasions, Gideon is referred to as the son of Joash (6:11,29,30; 7:14; 8:13,29,32). These references all occur at key moments in Gideon’s life, and even the Midianite soldier refers to him in this way. Judges routinely informs us of the fathers of the Judges, but this is typically part of an introductory formula; Gideon’s story is unique in its sustained use of the phrase. So, on one level, it certainly seems to be the case that Gideon, right to the end of his life, was defined by who his father was.

Initially, at least, Gideon also defines himself in these terms: “My family is poor in Manasseh,” he pleads, “and I am the least in my father’s house” (6:15).1 Commentators are divided in their view of Gideon’s words: Do they betoken a commendable degree of humility, or is Gideon indulging in some false modesty with a view to dodging the divine draft? As is so often the case in Judges, there is a real risk that the view we take will say as much about us as it does about the text, but Gideon’s response does not seem an altogether inappropriate one, as he struggles to process the Angel’s strange salutation, “thou mighty man of valour” (6:12). His words to the angel reveal an acute sense of the depths of Israel’s need. His occupation of threshing wheat, though a laudable example of doing with his might what his hands found to do, hardly suggests a very military disposition, an impression abundantly reinforced by his subsequent conduct. It seems safest – as well as kindest – to see in Gideon’s words the confession of a man who felt unqualified to be a deliverer for Israel because he was only the most insignificant member of an insignificant and undistinguished family.

Gideon, it turned out, had no need to worry about his lineage; God was well able to equip the man whom he had chosen and, with His help, Gideon was able to transcend his humble origins. The text leaves us in no doubt about this. Judges 8 records a striking occurrence. After Gideon has captured Zebah and Zalmunna, he interrogates them about the men that they had killed at Tabor. Their response is striking: “As thou art, so were they; each one resembled the children of a king” (8:18). This answer seals their fate and provides a touching demonstration of Gideon’s affection for his brothers: “And he said, They were my brethren, even the sons of my mother … if ye had saved them alive, I would not slay you” (v19). But the words of these pagan kings of Midian also register the transformation that has taken place in Gideon. Ennobled in divine service, the least of the poor of Manasseh now possesses a regal bearing that is marked, even by the heathen.

In this, Gideon is the rule, not the exception. It is still the case that God equips for His service those He enlists in His service, and it is still true that His servants find nobility in that service. In the centuries that followed Gideon’s lifetime, God would again and again produce mighty men of valour out of the most unpromising and unprepossessing material. He elevated a shepherd boy, an unremarked youngest son, to the throne of Israel, a prisoner of war to Babylonian prime minister, and an assorted bunch of Galilean fishermen to become the men who turned the world upside down. And He has done so, not only in the pages of Scripture, but through two millennia of Christian testimony. And He does so still.

We can sometimes feel like Gideon did. In a world where who we are and where we are from still matter – and matter far more amongst the Lord’s people than they ever should – it is easy to feel that we are no one from nowhere. Perhaps with sadness, perhaps with a secret feeling of relief, we conclude that God could never use nonentities like us, that we can be forgiven for sitting out the conflict. The story of Gideon leaves no room for this idea; God still uses humble means to mighty ends.

In a more important way, however, Gideon refused to allow himself to be defined by who – and by what – his father was. Following his encounter with the angel of the Lord in chapter 6, Gideon is instructed, “Take thy father’s young bullock, even the second bullock of seven years old, and throw down the altar of Baal that thy father hath, and cut down the grove that is by it: and build an altar unto the LORD thy God” (6:25-26). The language used here and the reaction of the men of the city (vv29-30) to the discovery of the destruction of the altar make it clear that Joash was more than just a man with an altar to Baal in his home. Rather, he would appear to have been the local priest of Baal, a man in the vanguard of Israel’s idolatry.

Clearly, Gideon’s upbringing had included a grounding in the story of God’s choice of and dealings with Israel. His opening words to the Angel of the Lord make that clear. But it is likely that, as the young Gideon learned about Jehovah, he learned too the legend and lore of Baal, and perhaps of many other false gods besides. He was the child of Israel’s sad swerve into syncretism.

We might not have expected the son of a Baal priest to be a worshipper of the true God. And, even if we allowed for the possibility, we might assume that a man with a background like Gideon’s could never really be a first-rate believer, never attain the spiritual calibre of those whose parents and grandparents had remained loyal to Jehovah. We might assume, but we would be wrong. And if we find ourselves looking in condescension or, worse, disparagement at first-generation believers today, we are still wrong.

This in no way diminishes the value and the blessing of a Christian upbringing. To have learned from a child the holy Scriptures is a privilege beyond price. But one would not need to stray beyond the book of Judges or even beyond the life of Gideon to discover that having believing parents is no guarantee of either salvation or spirituality. We need to remember this. There are no spiritual dynasties; every generation stands responsible to God for itself; and each of us is responsible to God for ourselves. We cannot blame our lack of spiritual progress, our faltering commitment, or our flawed faithfulness on our family or upbringing.

Writing to the Corinthian believers, and broadening out the teaching that he has been given relating to marriage, Paul instructed them, “But as God hath distributed to every man, as the Lord hath called every one, so let him walk” (1Co 7:17). A few verses later, he reinforces his point: “Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God” (v24). Paul’s teaching in the section delimited by these verses is of enormous consequence. He tells the Corinthians (some of whom were slaves) that the circumstances in which they find themselves are not random, they are the “calling” that God has assigned to each one, and are only to be altered after careful consideration about “the keeping of the commandments of God” (v19) and the maximising of usefulness in God’s service (v21). Grasping this would save many of us from dissatisfaction or frustration with our lot in life, and it would strip us of our excuses for not being active in God’s service. He has put us where we are so that we might serve Him there.

Doubtless, Gideon often wished to be a more prominent member of a much wealthier family. As his knowledge of Jehovah grew, it must have galled him sorely to see his father active in the service of Baal. He was not born in the circumstances he would have chosen, nor at the time that he would have wished. But his willingness to obey God made all of that of no consequence, and in God’s hand he became, in truth, a mighty man of valour, a noble warrior, with the likeness of the son of a king. The same God is calling you, can equip you, and will enable you if, like Gideon, you respond with worshipful obedience to His call.


1 Bible quotations in this article are from the KJV.