Getting Unstuck
a sermon based on Judges 4:1-7
by Rev. Tom Hall

Our first lesson lands us in the strange, seldom told stories of the book of Judges.  Few would win money on I Want to Be a Millionaire by recalling the characters and episodes from this book.  Savvy Sampson’s slewing of the Philistines and Delicious Delilah’s romantic undoing of Sampson we can recall from the period of the Judges.  But what about the disturbing story of Sisera and Jael, Barak and Deborah, and Ehud and King Jabin?  So let’s see what we can understand about Judges in general and our lesson in particular as we walk through the story.

            In the summary statement that leads up to our lesson, the storyteller informs us that “Shamgar killed six hundred Philistines with an ox goad.”[1]   Now that’s helpful information.  Not that this is not meant for spiritual nourishment or memorization.  But it is helpful.  First, it suggests that violence was a way of life in the tribal confederation that was ancient Israel prior to becoming a monarchy.   In fact, the moral of the story seems to be that so long as Israel went without a king who could galvanize the tribes, instability and faithlessness would continue to reign.  

Shamgar kills a bunch of the enemy.  But with an ox goad?  What’s an ox goad anyway?   Well, literalists know what that is—it’s something with which to goad oxen—but what the writer wants us to learn is that the ox goad is not on the cutting edge of weaponry—even in 1100 bc.  Israel has precious little resources with which to defend them.  That’s the second point that the writer wants us to know:  militarily, Israel is not an equal to its hostile neighbors.  The Philistines, for example, had discovered metallurgy and could extract iron and then melt it down and shape it into iron spears and chariot wheels and ploughs.  But not Israel.  So the writer says that (a) we’re in a period of Israel’s history when violence was a socially acceptable means to an end and (b) Israel has little resources and thus, has little choice but to trust God to get them out of the newest jam. 

As we walk through our episode in Judges 4, we’ll need to read between the lines.  For instance, we learn that “the Israelites again did what was evil in the LORD’s sight.”  Again?  Apparently, doing evil had become an accepted way of life—a pattern—for this was clearly not the first time that some corporate evil was being perpetrated by Israel.  “So the LORD handed them over to . . . ”  The Lord handed Israel over to an enemy?   That’s the writer’s theological answer coming through the story.  How it happened probably would require a different answer—ox goads instead of rifles, etc.  But theologically speaking, God simply abandoned Israel and left them to their meager resources. 

            This time, Israel experiences a real headache—King Jabin and his military hatchet man, Sisera.   Sisera (“I was just obeying orders”) could boast nine hundred iron chariots.   The statement suggests that Israel in stark contrast, could count their wooden chariots on one hand.  They are clearly outmatched.   The mismatch continues for two decades.  Israel is enslaved to the Canaanite’s savage whims.  And Sisera just stands there cracking his knuckles, awaiting orders to inflict his newest form of terror on Israel. 

            But a new development now enters the story that will enable Israel to survive for another day, for overwhelmed by cruelty and Sisera’s nine hundred chariots to enforce his orders, the writer tells us that “Israel cried out to the LORD for help” (verse3).   The rest of the story is the outcome of that cry.

            What becomes clear here and throughout the collection of stories that make up this book is this:  Israel is stuck in a predictable pattern.  They just can’t seem to break out of it nor change the pattern.  No wonder that the book of Judges makes but a cameo appearance in our three-year cycle lectionary.  I think that is in large part because it reads like a scratched CD—a long deep scratch that creates predictable static breaks through every one of the collected stories in the book of Judges.  

The plot of Judges portrays Israel as if it were a hamster running endlessly around the little wheel over and over: Israel who is related to God through the covenant invariably slips into the worship of lesser gods.  Yahweh, in response simply walks off, leaving them abandoned to their own resources.  They soon fall short of resources and the lesser gods don’t seem to help all that much, and in the end they become enslaved to a bully king.  The bully Canaanite king in turn, rackets up the pain and suffering through oppressive policies, until Israel can’t take it anymore.  (We’re coming full circle here.)  “Save, LORD!” they cry out.  Or perhaps, “Okay, God, ‘Uncle.’  Again.” God, hearing their honest cry for help acts on their behalf by raising up a deliverer or judge. 

That’s the pattern—the law of logical consequences that continues to repeat again and again for four hundred years.  That’s Judges.  The characters, of course, change as do the oppressors and judges, but the plot stays the same: 

self-reliance  . . . oppression . . . God reliance . . . God’s action . . .

 

Ad nauseam. 

Whether it’s a tire spinning in a snow bank in Minnesota or men and women confronting their lives at a 12-step meeting or Bill Murray trying his darnedest to get out of Ground Hog Day—getting unstuck is one of life’s greatest challenges.   

Doesn’t it seem that sometimes we’re the hamster stuck on the same spinning wheel, running from one rung to the next faster and faster until we make full circle and begin the treadmill again?  Or that we’re clinging to some cosmic merry-go-round that seems to increase speed with each revolution?  If the definition of insanity is true—doing the same thing over and over and over, but expecting different results—maybe this isn’t such a sane world after all.

            Recently, Julie Samuels, Director for the US Department of Justice, described a societal quagmire that we’re stuck in—the cycle of violence.  The cycle of violence suggests that children who experience abuse will get them stuck on a treadmill in which they themselves will become violent in later years.  Her data confirms that hunch. 

In a recent study of 1,575 cases from childhood through young adulthood, persons she discovered that abused or neglected people increased the likelihood of . . .

·          arrest as a juvenile by 59%

·          arrest as a young adult by 28%

·          arrest for committing a violent crime by 30%

The report concludes with very sobering words:  “poor educational performance, mental health problems, and generally low levels of achievement also characterize victims of early childhood abuse and neglect . . .”[2]   Once stuck, getting unstuck can be a very tough thing to do.

            I read this week about Lynn, a starting high school quarterback and honors student who was seriously injured in a hunting accident.  He nearly died out in the woods, but after thirty-two pints of blood and many operations and months of recovery, he was able to regain his health.  Once again, he resumed his position on the football team and went to college.  Then he received a call.  “The tests came back; you are HIV positive; we think you’ll have only a couple of years to live.”

            The news devastated his relationship with his fiancée, alienated friends who feared getting the virus from him.  He dropped out of school, sat and watched television and ballooned to 250 pounds.  For nine years Lynn got stuck in a pattern of self-pity, blaming his friend for not having had the gun on safety, blaming doctors for giving him infected blood, blaming his fiancée for leaving him.

            What exactly got him unstuck is hard to tell.  But one day he walked into a gym and worked out.  Felt so good about himself he did it again.  And again.  Today he holds a college degree, is once again engaged, and has forgiven every person that he blamed.  Here’s what Lynn learned about getting unstuck: 

. . . I was sick and dying, but not from HIV.   I was dying from depression.  I had built a prison for myself and filled it with misery. . .  for nine years of my life I just stood on the sidelines.   Sometimes I’d go to places like the mall and sit for hours and just watch people go past.  And do you know what I saw?  I saw most other people dying . . .

. . . I think a lot of people need to be taken aside and told, “Look, you only have so much time to live make the most of every day, starting now—live as you will wish you would have lived when you’re dying.”[3]

            Maybe our story in Judges functions primarily as a mirror held up to our own lives.  It asks us to confront the negative patterns around which our lives gravitate.  Are there patterns like Israel’s that we’re stuck in?  What pattern in our congregation keeps us from moving forward in the mission God calls us to?  More importantly, what are we willing to do to get unstuck?

            This story ends not only with deliverance from those nine hundred chariots that has cowered Israel into submission, but it ends with the demise of the commander, Sisera.  Not only that, but when the Israelites cry out to God, God acts in unexpected ways. 

            God sends three people who together team up to provide a way for Israel to get unstuck.  God works through Deborah to initiate a change; God then works through Barak to carry out the change, and finally, God uses an unlikely heroine—Jael—who puts an abrupt end to the old regime by ramming a spike through . . . well, anyway, we get the idea.  God has unlimited resources to help us break free to worship and serve God. 

In the end, the story reminds us that though we get stuck in the quagmire of our own lack of resources or through our lack of faithfulness, when we cry out to God, he will come and save us.  God is still the main character of our stories who will use unexpected resources to bring us into right relationship and back into mission.  

Saving us from the miry clay is God’s job.  Staying unstuck is ours.  Amen. 

---

[1] Judges 3:31

[2] US Dept. of Justice: National Institute of Justice, “An Update on the ‘Cycle of Violence’ ” (Feb. 2001): 7.

[3] Cited in Building A Body for Life.