The Call to Be Strong

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Called to be Strong:  Deborah and Barak

 Judges 4:1 – 10.

 

Introduction.  Today we begin a new series of messages I’m calling “The Urgent Call.”  Over the coming weeks I want to walk through the lives of several men and women in the Old Testament whom God summoned into decisive action at critical moments in Israel’s history – people like Gideon, Jephthah, Samson, Moses, and others.  Each of them received a call that was not abstract of theoretical.  It was urgent.  It demanded strength.  It required faith that moved beyond private devotion into very public obedience.

The first of these accounts is found in Judges 4.  I’m calling this message today “Called to be Strong,” and it’s a deliberate title.  The Book of Judges is filled with weakness – moral weakness, spiritual weakness, and national weakness.  Yet in the midst of all that pathetic weakness God repeatedly raised up people and says, in effect, “Be strong.  Rise Up.  Lead.  Fight.”

What we will see today is that God often works through leaders who not only answer the call themselves but who also draw the call out of others.  Leadership in God’s kingdom is almost never solitary.  It’s frequently collaborative.  Deborah doesn’t merely receive a word from the Lord; she must challenge Barak with that word until he finally steps into the role God has assigned him.  That dynamic – leadership that awakens the calling in others – is what today’s message is all about.

Cry to God, Judges 4:1 – 3.

If you are at all familiar with the Book of Judges, you know that this chapter opens with the all-too familiar and tragic refrain:

Again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord, now that Ehud was dead. [2] So the Lord sold them into the hands of Jabin king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor. Sisera, the commander of his army, was based in Harosheth Haggoyim. [3] Because he had nine hundred chariots fitted with iron and had cruelly oppressed the Israelites for twenty years, they cried to the Lord for help. [4] Now Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth, was leading Israel at that time.  (Judges 4:1 – 4 | TNIV)

Two decades.  Now, that’s an awfully long time to live under the boot of an oppressor.  Jabin’s military was technological and well as numerical.  Nine hundred iron chariots represented the most advanced weaponry of the day.  Against such forces Israel’s tribes were scattered, intimidated, and for the most part unarmed.  The oppression was cruel.  The text doesn’t soften the language.  It was bad.

But I want you to notice the sequence.  First, evil in the eyes of the Lord.  Then judgment.  Then, after twenty long years of misery, a cry.  Israel’s pattern in Judges is painfully obvious and consistent:  Sin, slavery, supplication, salvation, then a return to sin.  Yet, God in His great patience still hears their cry every time.

There’s a little pastoral word here for us.  God doesn’t wait for perfect repentance before He listens.  He hears the desperate cry of a people who finally realize they can’t save themselves.  Many of us know what it is to live for years under some from of oppression – maybe not political, but personal:  The long tyranny of some habitual sin, the grinding weight of a broken relationship, the quiet despair of spiritual dryness.  The first movement toward deliverance is always the same:  Cry out to God!

But notice what the cry does NOT produce immediately. There is no instantaneous miracle.  No lightning bolt from heaven.  Instead, God begins to work through people – ordinary people with extraordinary assignments.  The cry of the people becomes the occasion for the call of leaders.

Challenge to Deborah and Barak, Judges 4:4 – 7.

Verse 4 introduces us to one of the most remarkable figures in the Old Testament:

Now Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth, was leading Israel at that time. [5] She held court under the Palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim, and the Israelites went up to her to have their disputes decided.   (Judges 4:4, 5 | TNIV)

This woman Deborah is both a prophetess and a judge.  In a time when “everyone did what was right in his own eyes,” she was a steady source of divine wisdom and judicial authority.  She doesn’t seize power; she exercises the authority God has given her.  People came to her; she doesn’t chase them down.

Then the Lord speaks through her to a fellow named Barak:

She sent for Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali and said to him, “The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you: ‘Go, take with you ten thousand men of Naphtali and Zebulun and lead them up to Mount Tabor. [7] I will lead Sisera, the commander of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his troops to the Kishon River and give him into your hands. ‘ ”  (Judges 4:6, 7 | TNIV)

Here’s the challenge.  Deborah doesn’t invent a plan and then look for someone to execute it.  She delivers the command of the Lord.  The TNIV doesn’t indicate it, but it seems that the call had already been delivered – that Barak had already been addressed by God.  The CSB more accurately translates verse 6:

She summoned Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali and said to him, “Hasn’t the LORD, the God of Israel, commanded you, ‘Go, deploy the troops on Mount Tabor, and take with you ten thousand men from the Naphtalites and Zebulunites?  (Judges 4:6 CSB)

So Deborah’s roll isn’t to deliver the call to Barak but to bring that existing call into the open and press it upon him.

This is leadership of a particular kind.  It’s not the leadership that creates a vision from scratch and then recruits followers.  It’s the leadership that discerns what God has already spoken and then courageously holds others accountable to it.  Deborah doesn’t say, “Hey, Barak, I have an idea.”  She declares pointedly, “God has spoken to you, so now go.”

Barak is from Kadesh in Nephtali, far to the north in Israel.  Deborah is in the hill country of Ephraim.  The distance itself is significant.  But she doesn’t wait for Barak to come to her.  She sends for him.  Leadership sometimes requires initiative.  It requires seeking out the person God has marked and placing the call squarely before him.

The content of the call is military and strategic.  Gather 10,000 men from two tribes and go to Mount Tabor.  God Himself will draw Sisera (the enemy) out to the Kishon River and give him into Barak’s hand.  The promise is clear.  The strategy is divine.  All that remains is obedience.

I don’t want you to miss the theological weight of this moment.  God could have easily delivered Israel without any help from anybody.  He could have struck Sisera’s army with plague or confusion as He had done before on behalf of His people.  Instead, He chooses to work through the obedience of a prophetess and a military commander.  God chooses people to be strong.

Collaborate as needed, Judges 4:8 – 10.

Barak’s response is both honest and incomplete.

Barak said to her, “If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go.”  (Judges 4:8 | TNIV)

Some interpreters are hard on Barak at this point.  They see cowardice or lack of faith.  The text itself is more measured.  Deborah doesn’t rebuke him for requesting her presence.  She agrees, but also issues a sobering word:

“Certainly I will go with you,” said Deborah. “But because of the course you are taking, the honor will not be yours, for the Lord will deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman.” So Deborah went with Barak to Kedesh. [10] There Barak summoned Zebulun and Naphtali, and ten thousand men went up under his command. Deborah also went up with him.  (Judges 4:9, 10 | TNIV)

Here’s collaboration.  Barak will not go alone.  Deborah will not force him to go alone.  She rises and goes with him.  Ten thousand gather.  The army move.

Notice what collaboration looks like in this text.  It isn’t the erasure of distinct roles.  Deborah remains the prophetess who speaks the word of the Lord.  Barak remains the military leader who must muster the troops and lead the charge.  Collaboration doesn’t mean that everyone does everything.  It means that each person supplies what the other lacks so that the mission of God advances.

Deborah’s willingness to go with Barak is itself an act of strength.  She leaves the relative safety of her palm tree and the judicial work she has been doing.  She steps into a war zone.  Leadership that calls others into risk must be willing to share that risk.

Well, the outcome of this story is well known.  God throws Sisera’s army into a panic.  A sudden storm turns the Kishon into a torrent that disables the iron chariots.  Barak’s forces pursue.  Sisera flees on foot and is killed by Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, with a tent peg.  The victory is total and Jael, not Barak, gets the honor, just as Deborah said.  Judges 5 records the song of Deborah and Barak – a theological interpretation of the battle that gives all glory to God while celebrating the willing participation of the tribes and the courage of individuals.

Leadership that draws out the call.

What does this narrative teach us about the nature of godly leadership and the urgent call of God?

First, the call of God often comes in the context of the people’s cry.  Deborah and Barak don’t invent a crisis in order to create a platform for themselves.  They respond to a genuine need that has driven the people to prayer.  Healthy leadership is not restless influence; it’s attentive to the affliction of God’s people and the word of God concerning that affliction.

Second, the call of God is sometimes, probably often, mediated through other believers.  Barak receives confirmation of God’s command through Deborah.  This doesn’t diminish the directness of God’s speaking; it illustrates the ordinary means by which God often works.  He uses the courage of one to summon the courage of another.  How many of us are serving the Lord today because someone else introduced us to God’s word or confirmed it.  Parents, elders, old saints – your willingness to speak the call of God into the lives of others is part of how God raises up the next generation.

Third, leadership that is secure in its own calling is free to collaborate.  Deborah doesn’t feel threatened by Barak’s request for her presence.  She doesn’t insist on going alone or on receiving the credit.  She is willing for another woman to get the honor entirely.  Secure leaders are not jealous of the gifts or the recognition of others.  They are jealous for the work of God.

Fourth, the call to be strong is rarely a call to solitary heroism.  Even the most gifted leaders need the help and strength of others.  Barak needed Deborah’s prophetic courage and presence.  Deborah needed Barak’s military leadership and the 10,000 men who followed him.  Jael needed neither army nor prophetic voice.  All she needed was that tent peg and a hammer – and the opportunity God placed in her tent and the courage to act.  The Body of Christ is designed this way.  No one is called to do everything.  Everyone is called to do something, and often that something is done best with others.

Conclusion.  Some of you are living under a long oppression – sin, fear, discouragement, or some external pressure.  The first step is the same as Israel’s – cry out to the Lord.  Don’t wait until you feel strong enough to pray.  The cry itself is the beginning of strength.

Some you already know the word the Lord has spoken to you.  You’ve sensed a call to step out, step up, and step into greater responsibility – maybe in the home, in the church, in the workplace, or in some specific act of obedience.  You need to hear and take to heart the challenge of Deborah:  The Lord has commanded.  Will you go?

Some of you are in positions of influence – parents, teacher, elders, grandparents.  Your calling includes the responsibility to summon others.  Don’t assume that people will simply discover the will of God on their own.  Speak the Word of God into their lives.  Challenge them.  God with them if necessary.  Leadership that draws out the call in others is one of the most powerful ways God advances His kingdom.

And all of us must remember that the ultimate strength we need is not found in ourselves.  The song of Deborah in chapter 5 ends with a prayer:

“So may all your enemies perish, Lord! But may all who love you be like the sun when it rises in its strength.” Then the land had peace forty years.  (Judges 5:31 | TNIV)

The rising sun is a picture of the irresistible strength given by God.  In the fullness of time that strength has been revealed in Jesus Christ.  He is the true and greater Deliverer who heard the cry of the world under the oppression of sin and death.  He didn’t just send a prophet; He came Himself.  He didn’t just collaborate with others; He bore the full weight of the battle alone on the cross, and He rose in power so that we might be strong in Him.

The call to be strong is, finally, a call to be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might.  Deborah and Barak point us forward to the One who calls us, equips us, and goes with us.

Therefore, let’s all cry out.  Let’s receive the challenge.  Let’s collaborate as needed.  And let’s rise up in the strength God supplies, for the glory of His name and the good of His people.

 

Three Minutes With Mike

The Master of Fear, Psalm 27

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TEN PSALMS THAT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

 The Mastery of Fear

 Psalm 27.

 

Introduction.  Fear is probably the most universal of human experiences.  It arises in the face of threat, uncertainty, or loss.  In our day it assumes sophisticated forms – geopolitical instability, economic and health pressures, relational fractures, and the quiet dread of insignificance that can haunt even the accomplished.

The Psalms give permission to acknowledge fear without shame while charting a path beyond its tyranny.  This series, “Out of Human Experiences,” begins with the conviction that the Bible shows how God meets us in life’s raw realities and transforms them.  Psalmn27, believed to have been written by King David, demonstrates that fear is mastered, though not eliminated, through a relationship with the Lord.

The psalm divides up naturally, moving from a bold, declarative trust (vs 1-3) to a passionate desire for God’s presence (vs 4-6), finally to an urgent petition (vs 7-12).  Some scholars note that Psalm 27 may combine two originally separate compositions – one of confidence and one of lament – yet the final form presents a unified witness to how trust, contemplation, and prayer together master fear.  Mastering fear therefore requires that we trust the Lord, meditate upon the Lord, and pray to the Lord – interwoven disciplines that work together to re-center the heart.

David’s experience isn’t too far removed from ours.  Whether facing literal armies or subtler besieging forces of anxiety and accusation, the same God remains our light, stronghold, and refuge.  Let’s make our way through this psalm, letting its words speak to our hearts.

Trust the Lord, Psalm 27:1 – 3.

The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? [2] When the wicked advance against me to devour me, it is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall. [3] Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.  (Psalm 27:1 – 3 | TNIV)

Psalm 27 opens with a ringing declaration of confidence that immediately reframes the entire problem of fear.  The Lord is presented as light, salvation, and a stronghold.  These three images are not abstract attributes but personal realities David claims with the possessive “MY.”  Light speaks of illumination in darkness, guidance when the path is unclear, and the moral clarity that dispels confusion and deceit.  Salvation points to decisive deliverance from any and every form of evil that threatens to overwhelm.  The stronghold image evokes a fortified refuge, a high and secure place where enemies can’t reach.

Because God is all these things, the psalmist asks the rhetorical questions:  “Whom shall I fear?” and “Of whom shall I be afraid?”  The questions presuppose real enemies – wicked adversaries on the march and closing in to devour, armies besieging, war breaking out.  David refuses to minimize the threat but refuses to grant it final authority over his heart.

Mastery begins with settled trust in who God is.  Biblical trust isn’t a manufactured calm; it’s the deliberate act of placing weight upon God’s revealed character and faithfulness.  The Hebrews behind “confident” in verse 3 conveys security grounded in a reliable object of reliance.  David’s confidence is evidence-based, rooted in God’s history with him and Israel.  This trust echoes all across Scripture – In Isaiah’s “fear not, for I am with you” (in Isaiah 40), in the Proverb’s warning that the fear of man is a snare but trust in the Lord brings safety (Proverbs 29:25), and supremely in Christ who is the light of the world.

This corrects two errors:  Denying fear through willpower or positive thinking, or allowing fear to shrink every decision into risk-avoidance.  David models honest recognition of danger coupled with deeper recognition of God.

For those trained in analysis, evidence, and control, this kind of trust can feel counterintuitive.  Yet this Psalm insists that the decisive factor is not the completeness of our information of the strength of our defenses, but the identity of the One to whom we belong.  The Lord is the light by which we see everything else, the salvation that precedes our efforts, the stronghold in which we are already secure even while the siege continues.

We all face different armies that besiege us.  They may be doubts, fear of obsolescence, concern for children in a disorienting culture, or anxiety that our achievements will prove hollow.  Psalm 27 doesn’t promise threats will vanish; it promises they will not have the last word when trust rests in the Lord who is light, salvation, and a stronghold.

Meditate on the Lord, Psalm 27:4 – 6.

One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. [5] For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock. [6] Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me; at his tabernacle I will sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord.  (Psalm 27:4 – 6 | TNIV)

Having declared his trust, the psalmist voices the deep trust that sustains it – a consuming longing for God’s presence.  Verse 4 records the singular request – “one thing” – in a world of competing urgencies.  This is not a petition for immediate deliverance or the destruction of enemies, though both will occur.  It’s the request to dwell in the house of the Lord all his days, to look upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His Temple.

As far as David was concerned, the Lord’s House was the Tabernacle, the visible sign of God’s dwelling.  For us today it points to the greater reality that Christ has made us God’s dwelling by the Holy Spirit and invites us into ever-deepening communion and fellowship.  To “gaze upon the beauty of the Lord” (Hebrew “no’am” means pleasantness, delight, favor) is a contemplative beholding of the attractive radiance of God’s character – His holiness, goodness, mercy, and truth.  It’s the opposite of anxious scanning of circumstances; it’s deliberate attention fixed upon the One who reorders every lesser reality.

The desire to “seek him in his temple” adds active inquiry and worship.  Biblical  meditation fills the mind with God’s truth and presence.  In the Temple the psalmist encountered sacrifices pointing to atonement, mediating priests, read and sung Scripture, and gathered praise – all creating space for contemplating divine beauty.

The fifth verse links this meditation directly to mastery of fear:  In the day of trouble the Lord keeps the psalmist safe in his dwelling, hides him in the shelter of his tent, and sets him high upon a rock. The presence sought becomes the protection needed.  Meditation doesn’t escape trouble, but it places trouble in its proper perspective.  The one who dwells with God carries that dwelling into trouble.

Verse 6 show the fruit:  The head lifted above enemies, sacrifices of joy offered with shouts, music made to the Lord.  Fear mastered through trust and meditation issues in spontaneous praise.  The psalmist does not wait for the threat’s removal.  Rather, he worships because God’s presence is already his security and delight.

This call to meditation in God’s presence is difficult for some of us today because it calls us to quiet our minds and assume a different posture from what we may be used to – receptive, adoring, sustained attention to the God revealed in Scripture.  It properly orders the intellect under the lordship of the One who is light.  Practices such as slow and prayerful reading of Scripture, extended reflection on a single divine attribute, or worship that moves beyond performance into genuine encounter cultivate this gaze.  In our age of constant distraction and information overload, the discipline of “one thing” is countercultural yet essential for the mastery of fear.

The “one thing” also diagnosis:  When fear proliferates, attention is often fragmented.  Returning to the singular desire to dwell with, gaze upon, and seek the Lord clarifies and calms us in ways strategic planning cannot replicate.

Here are some good questions we should ask ourselves:

What would it look like for me, at this stage in my life, to make “one thing” my primary request of the Lord?

David links the desire for God’s presence with confident protection in trouble (vs 5).  Have you experienced a time when extended meditation on God altered your experience of a threatening situation?

Pray to the Lord, Psalm 27:7 – 12.

Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me. [8] My heart says of you, “Seek his face! ” Your face, Lord, I will seek. [9] Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, God my Savior. [10] Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me. [11] Teach me your way, Lord; lead me in a straight path because of my oppressors. [12] Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes, for false witnesses rise up against me, spouting malicious accusations.  (Psalm 27:7 – 12 | TNIV)

The final movement of Psalm 27 turns to explicit prayer.  Trust and meditation overflow into petition; petition deepens trust and enriches meditation.  The psalmist prays not because is confidence has collapsed but because his relationship with the living God includes honest conversations about real needs.

Verse 7 opens with the appeal:  “Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me.”  The request for a hearing is faith’s assumption that the God who is light and a stronghold also listens.  The appeal to mercy acknowledges that the psalmist’s only claim is God’s gracious character.

The eighth verse reveals the dialogue of the inner heart:  “My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face!’  Your face, Lord, I will seek.”  Prayer is the pursuit of a Person, not merely the presentation of some needs.  The repetition of “seek” marks its active, ongoing character.

Verses 9 and 10 voice vulnerable pleas that God not hide His face, turn way in anger, reject or forsake.  The appeal to past help – “You have been my helper” – grounds the present request.  The striking claim that even if father and mother forsake, the Lord will receive him, expresses the possibility of ultimate human abandonment.  In a world where even closest bonds can fail, God receives, adopts, and holds fast.

Verse 11 requests guidance:  “teach me your way, Lord; lead me in a straight path because of my oppressors.”  Fear distorts perception and leads to crooked paths of self-protection.  The request for God’s way and a level path seeks moral and practical clarity amid pressure.  The oppressor’s employ false witnesses and malicious accusations (vs 12) – a reality familiar to leaders and public figures today.

David’s prayer here is comprehensive:  A hearing, continued experience of God’s presence, protection from abandonment and enemy schemes, and guidance that preserves integrity.  The psalmist seeks not only removal of threats, but preservation of relationship and character.  This is mature prayer – prayer that seeks God’s glory and the petitioner’s conformity to God as much as relief.

In our age where so many of us so highly educated, prayer can often feel impractical.  Psalm 27 suggests the opposite:  It is the most practical act when fear threatens to take us over, because it returns us to conscious dependence on the only One who can ultimately secure us.  It also guards against the subtle self-reliance that education and success can foster.

The honesty is instructive.  David names the possibility of rejection, pain of potential abandonment, and reality of false accusation – yet brings all of it into the presence of God already declared to be light and a stronghold.  We don’t deny the darkness; we refuse to discuss it in the dark.  We bring it into the light of God’s presence through prayer.  For leaders and professionals today, the request for a straight path amid false witnesses is especially poignant; prayer invites divine vindication and moral clarity when human systems falter or are weaponized.

Conclusion.  Psalm 27 does not offer a technique for eliminating fear.  It offers something better!  It offers a relationship with the living God that puts fear in its proper perspective.  Through trust in the Lord’s character as light, salvation, and a stronghold; through meditation that fixes the heart’s gaze upon the beauty of His presence; and through prayer that brings every threat into that presence fear is mastered.  It may still knock, but it no longer commands the house.

The experience of fear is not foreign to Scripture.  David knew it.  The greater Son of David knew Gethsemane’s agony and the cross’s dereliction – yet entrusted Himself to the faithful Father.  In Christ, the truths of Psalm 27 are fulfilled and made available to all of us by the Spirit.  The mastery modeled by David is not Stoic indifference or therapeutic self-talk; it’s the fruit of a relationship in which the believer’s identity, security, and joy are anchored in the unchanging character and near presence of God.

This week, let’s try to practice the three movements of this Psalm.  Choose one fear and trust the Lord by naming Him your light, salvation, and stronghold in relation to it.  Set aside time to meditate – to look on His beauty in Scripture and worship.  Bring the fear into honest prayer, asking for help and grace to walk in God’s way with integrity.  Return daily.  Watch how the Lord who was David’s confidence becomes yours!

Three Minutes With Mike


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