When God Calls the Unlikely Hero
What’s Judges 6 about?
This is the story of Gideon – a man hiding in a winepress, threshing wheat in secret, who gets called “mighty warrior” by an angel. It’s about God choosing the most unlikely person to deliver Israel from seven years of devastating Midianite oppression, and what happens when fear meets faith.
The Full Context
Judges 6 opens during one of Israel’s darkest periods. After decades of the judges cycle – sin, oppression, cry for help, deliverance, repeat – the Israelites find themselves crushed under Midianite rule for seven brutal years. These weren’t just political overlords; the Midianites were nomadic raiders who swept in like locusts at harvest time, destroying crops and livestock, leaving Israel impoverished and hiding in caves. The text paints a picture of complete demoralization: God’s people reduced to guerrilla survival tactics in their own promised land.
Into this desperate situation steps the most reluctant hero in Scripture. Gideon isn’t leading armies or rallying the tribes – he’s secretly threshing wheat in a winepress, trying to hide grain from Midianite raiders. Yet this is the man God chooses to deliver Israel. The chapter unfolds as a masterclass in divine irony: the “mighty warrior” who’s terrified of his enemies, the deliverer who needs multiple signs before he’ll act, the man who tears down altars under cover of darkness. Judges 6 reveals how God delights in using ordinary, fearful people to accomplish extraordinary things – not despite their weaknesses, but often through them.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The Hebrew in this passage is loaded with wordplay that modern translations often miss. When the angel addresses Gideon as gibbor chayil (“mighty warrior”), the irony is palpable. Here’s a man literally hiding from his enemies, and God calls him what he’s destined to become, not what he appears to be. It’s like calling someone cowering in a basement “brave heart.”
But there’s something deeper happening with the word chayil. Yes, it means “warrior” or “mighty,” but it also carries the idea of capability, efficiency, and moral worth. God isn’t just seeing Gideon’s military potential – He’s recognizing character qualities that Gideon himself doesn’t see.
Grammar Geeks
The phrase “The Lord is with you” uses the Hebrew Yahweh immak, which isn’t just a greeting – it’s a declaration of divine presence and partnership. The same phrase appears when God calls Moses, Joshua, and later when Gabriel visits Mary. It’s God’s way of saying, “I’m not just sending you – I’m going with you.”
The conversation between Gideon and the angel reveals another fascinating Hebrew detail. When Gideon questions God’s presence, saying “if the Lord is with us, why has all this happened?” he uses a different name for God – Adonai (Lord) rather than Yahweh (the personal covenant name). It’s subtle, but it suggests Gideon is speaking about God rather than to God – maintaining emotional distance from the very One who’s about to commission him.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
Ancient Israelites hearing this story would have immediately grasped several cultural details that modern readers miss. First, threshing wheat in a winepress was absurd – like trying to bake bread in a bathtub. Winepresses were carved into rock, designed for crushing grapes, not separating grain. The fact that Gideon was doing this shows just how desperate and afraid he was.
The original audience would also have recognized the theological significance of Gideon’s altar-building. When he names it “Yahweh-Shalom” (The Lord is Peace), he’s making a profound statement. In a culture where encountering God face-to-face meant death (Exodus 33:20), discovering that God brings peace rather than destruction would have been revolutionary.
Did You Know?
The Midianites and their allies came “like locusts” – this wasn’t just a metaphor. Archaeological evidence shows that the late Bronze Age saw massive movements of nomadic peoples across the ancient Near East, often in confederation with other tribes. These weren’t small raiding parties but massive migrations that could devastate entire regions.
The destruction of Baal’s altar would have resonated powerfully with the original audience. Baal was the Canaanite storm god, supposedly the one who brought rain and fertility. After seven years of crop failure and famine, many Israelites had likely turned to Baal worship in desperation. Gideon’s father Joash defending his son by saying “let Baal contend for himself” was essentially a public challenge: if Baal is real, let him prove it.
Wrestling with the Text
Here’s what puzzles me about this passage: Why does Gideon need so many signs? We modern readers often focus on his fleece tests in verses 36-40, but the whole chapter is full of Gideon asking for proof. First, he asks for a sign that this is really God speaking (Judges 6:17). Then he prepares an offering and watches it consumed by fire. Later, he needs the fleece to be wet while the ground is dry, then dry while the ground is wet.
Is this faith or doubt? The Hebrew gives us a clue. When Gideon asks for signs, he’s not using the typical word for doubt (safek) but rather words associated with testing and verification (nasah). It’s the same root used when God “tests” Abraham or when the Israelites are told not to “test” God in the wilderness. Gideon isn’t doubting God’s existence – he’s trying to confirm God’s specific will and timing.
Wait, That’s Strange…
Notice that God never rebukes Gideon for asking for signs. In fact, He graciously provides them every time. This suggests that what we might see as lack of faith, God sees as appropriate caution. Gideon knows the cost of getting this wrong – not just for himself, but for all Israel.
There’s another puzzle: Why does Gideon tear down the altar at night “because he was afraid” (Judges 6:27)? Some see this as cowardice, but I think it’s wisdom. Gideon has just been called to deliver Israel – starting a civil war with his own townspeople wouldn’t exactly help that mission. Sometimes courage looks like strategic thinking, not reckless bravado.
How This Changes Everything
This passage revolutionizes how we think about God’s calling and our qualifications. Gideon has everything going against him: he’s from the weakest clan in Manasseh, he’s the least in his family, he’s hiding from enemies, and he’s terrified of confrontation. Yet God calls him a “mighty warrior” and chooses him to deliver Israel.
The text reveals that God doesn’t call the equipped – He equips the called. When Gideon protests his inadequacy, God doesn’t argue with his assessment. Instead, He says, “I will be with you” (Judges 6:16). The qualification isn’t Gideon’s strength; it’s God’s presence.
“God’s calling isn’t about discovering our hidden superpowers – it’s about discovering His power working through our obvious weaknesses.”
This changes how we read our own stories. Maybe that area where you feel most inadequate, most fearful, most unqualified – maybe that’s exactly where God wants to show up. The winepress where you’re hiding might be the very place where God meets you and calls you to something greater.
The altar Gideon builds – “Yahweh-Shalom” – becomes a permanent reminder that encountering God brings peace, not condemnation. Even when God calls us to difficult things, even when He asks us to tear down idols in our own lives, His fundamental heart toward us is peace.
Key Takeaway
God doesn’t wait for you to feel brave before He calls you a warrior. He sees what you can become through His strength, not what you are in your own. Your hiding place might be your launching pad.
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