A Monster Story

Judges 4:1-7
Once again the Israelites were doing what was evil in the eyes of Yahweh when Ehud died. So Yahweh sold them into the hand of Jabin, king of Canaan, who ruled in Hazor. His war-chief was Sisera, whose base was Harosheth-ha-goim. The Israelites cried out to Yahweh because Sisera had 900 chariots of iron and he oppressed the Israelites violently for twenty years.

Now Deborah, a fiery woman, was a prophetess, and she led Israel at that time. She used to sit under the Palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim and the Israelites would come to her for justice.

Now she sent and called for Barak, son of Abinoam, from Kedesh of Naphtali. She said to him, “Hasn’t Yahweh, the God of Israel, commanded you: ‘Go and march to Mount Tabor. Take with you 10,000 men from Naphtali and Zebulun. And up the torrent of Kishon I will lead up to you Sisera, war-chief of Jabin, along with his chariots and his army and will give him into your hand’?”

“Tell us a story,” the children cried. “Yes, tell us a story,” they said to the wise old storyteller of the circle.

In the flickering glow of the fading campfire the faces of the children glowed as the light shone on their smooth, rounded cheeks. But on the wise old woman whose story they sought, the light found the folds in her skin, throwing shadows across her face. There was an air of wisdom and mystery about her. Only her eyes shone with full force.

There was a chill in the autumn air and the listeners sat in that familiar discomfort of campfires with their fronts fried and their backsides frozen. Some had blankets thrown around their shoulders. Others huddled together. But the storyteller sat still – undisturbed by fire or frost.

“Tell us a scary story,” one child said.

“Yes, yes! A scary story,” the others agreed. It was the time of night to tell such stories. Under the stars, in the darkness of the forest, among a circle of friends, it was time to tell a story of darkness and the light that overcomes it.

“Are you sure that you want to hear a scary story?” the old woman asked.

“Oh, yes! A monster story!”

“Well, in that case, listen well. For this is a story that may disturb you. It is a monster story from the Bible.”

“The Bible?!” a child cried. “We want to hear a scary story! Bible stories are all about sheep and arks and rainbows!”

“Oh, no, child. Some of the scariest stories of all come from the Bible because God knows we face some scary things in this world. Let me tell you a story of a judge named Deborah.”

“A woman judge? You mean like Ruth Bader Ginsberg?”

“No, this story happened a long time ago – way back in the time before Israel had a king. Before Jesus, before David, before Samson. It was a time when judges didn’t have black robes or gavels. Judges were leaders of their people, raised up by God to do mighty things. Deborah was just such a judge and yet also a prophet.”

“Hold on,” a little boy said. “A woman prophet?”

“It is true that this was a rare thing. Most women were never allowed to speak in public places in those days. Most of them wouldn’t have been respected as leaders. But God doesn’t always obey our rules and God chose Deborah to be a prophet.

“Deborah used to sit beneath a tree in the hill country of Israel. In fact it came to be known as her tree – the Palm of Deborah. People would come to Deborah for justice and to listen with her for God’s voice. She was a wise woman, a strong woman, and a fair woman. People who had disputes would bring them to Deborah because they knew she would hear them with the ears of God.”

“Wait a minute,” a little girl cried. “You said there was a monster in this story!”

“Oh, there is little one. I’m about to come to that. You see at this time the Israelite people were being oppressed by a foreign king – King Jabin of Canaan. King Jabin had an army commander who was fearsome enough to inspire terror in the heart of the bravest person. The Jewish legends say that he was a giant of a man. It is said that he could freeze a lion in its tracks just by screaming at it. He could destroy the walls of an enemy’s city with a shout – just like the Israelites had done at Jericho. When he went swimming the fish that would get caught in his beard would feed an entire family. He had 900 iron chariots and the Israelites had none. It is said that it took 900 fire-breathing horses to pull those chariots.

“Oh, he was terrifying alright. And his name sounded like something being spoken by a thousand snakes – Sisera. Sisera. Sisera. You can just feel the slimy, sinister-ness in his name. Sisera!

“For twenty years he had oppressed the Israelites – twenty long years. Until that day that Deborah called upon Barak.

“Now Barak was an Israelite who had some military experience and who feared God, but he was a little too fearful. God can sometimes speak in a still, small voice but even when God spoke very loudly to Barak he convinced himself that it was just the wind. So, even though God had been calling Barak for some time to go and face Sisera, he refused to hear it.

“Deborah called Barak to her palm tree and told him in words he could not ignore – ‘Barak, isn’t God calling you to march to Mount Tabor with 10,000 warriors. God will bring you Sisera and his chariots and his army to that place and will give you the victory.’

“But Barak was still afraid. On his own he knew that he would never have the courage to face Sisera and his 900 chariots of iron. Even if had 10,000 warriors he knew he couldn’t do it. He needed someone with unshakeable faith and a solid belief that it could be done. He needed someone like Deborah. So he said to her, ‘If you will go with me, I will go; if you won’t go with me, then I won’t go.’

“Deborah did go but before she did she told Barak that he wouldn’t get any of the glory from the battle because Sisera would die at the hands of a woman.”

A boy said, “So Deborah got to defeat him?”

“Ah, wait and see,” said the storyteller with a slight smile. “Now Sisera heard that the Israelites were gathering to oppose him on Mount Tabor. So he gathered his men and his 900 chariots of iron with their fire-breathing horses and headed for the Wadi Kishon – a normally dry valley at the base of the mountain.

“Sisera sent spies into the camp of the Israelites and they came back with wild reports. A good-sized army had formed and it seemed to have two generals – and one of them was a woman. The rumor in the camp was that Sisera would die at the hands of a woman.

“Well, Sisera thought this was funny. Hilarious, in fact. He threw back his head and laughed in his voice that could break down walls and freeze lions. The valley rumbled as if from thunderclaps as he laughed and cried out, ‘A woman? The Israelite god would defeat me, the mightiest general in the world, at the hands of a woman?’

“The Israelites on the mountainside trembled as the valley shook from Sisera’s laughter. Night fell and down below they could see the light of enemy campfires twinkling in the Wadi Kishon. But by those campfires the men of Sisera’s army had reason to tremble as well. They had heard stories. Stories about how the Israelite god had defeated the Egyptian pharaoh who came out with chariots against them. Stories about how God used unlikely people to win great victories. And though they feared Sisera, they feared the coming day as well.

“As daybreak grew closer black clouds rolled in and shut out the light from the stars above. At dawn the clouds opened and rain began to fall on the armies below.

“Sisera awoke in a foul mood. He was ready to destroy the Israelites. He despised them of their insult to him in sending an army led by a woman. So he ordered the men into their chariots and yelled, ‘Charge!’ in a voice that once again shook the earth. The 900 chariots led by fire-breathing horses rumbled forward to meet the army on the mountain above.

“On the mountain above there was a command to charge as well, this time in a woman’s voice. Deborah told Barak to move forward because God was with them on this day. The people had forgotten God. They had fallen away from what God meant them to be. But God heard their cries of oppression and was raising up a leader. The army of 10,000 moved to meet the dreaded general and the 900 chariots of iron.

“The rain continued to pour and soon the chariot drivers found themselves mired in the mud of the Wadi Kishon, which was quickly becoming a torrent. As the army of Sisera realized that they were becoming hopelessly stuck, the army of Israel suddenly thundered down upon them, catching them in their moment of weakness.

“There was panic, as there must have been so many years before for Pharaoh’s army as the Red Sea closed around them. Swords flashed in lightning blasts. Men cried out in agony. Horses fell into the mud.

“Mighty Sisera thought that he saw, on the hill above, a face – the face of a determined woman overseeing the chaos below. Deborah. God’s leader and prophet who knew that God was bringing about a victory. And Sisera fled. Mighty Sisera ran. He just jumped out of his chariot and ran as fast he could, fleeing from the Israelite god, fleeing from Deborah, fleeing from the sound of a battle in which all of his men were killed.”

“But wait,” a little girl said to the storyteller. “Deborah said that Sisera would be killed by a woman. Did she chase him?”

“No. She didn’t chase him.”

“Then how…”

“Well, Sisera ran until he came to a tent far from the battle. It was the tent of Jael.”

A little boy said, “Superman’s dad lived in the tent?”

“No, Jael was a woman. She was not an Israelite, but a Kenite. The Kenites were distantly related to the Israelites but Jael’s husband was in an alliance with the Canaanites so there was no reason that Sisera should have feared this tent, not that he had ever been afraid before.

“But he should have been because Jael lured him to her tent with seductive promises of security. And once he got into the tent Sisera began to feel a little safer. Even though his army had been destroy, he had eluded Barak and that woman whose presence meant him harm.

“In his ease he asked Jael for water but she, like a gracious hostess or a caring mother, gave him milk. He crawled beneath a rug to hide telling her to lie if anyone came asking if he were there.

“But when he had fallen asleep, Jael took a mallet and a tent stake and felt around beneath the rug for just the right spot. Then she drove the stake through Sisera’s skill, killing him instantly and pinning him to the ground.”

There was silence around the campfire for a minute then a little girl shrieked, “She was the woman!”

“Yes, she was the woman by whom Deborah’s prophecy was fulfilled.”

The little girl sighed, “So the monster was finally dead.”

“Oh, no. The monster is not dead. In fact, the monster is still very much alive.”

“But you said…”

“I said that Jael killed Sisera, but Sisera, fearsome as he was, was not the monster. When Deborah sang about the victory in later years she remembered that even Sisera had a mother who waited for him on that day. His mother stood at the window waiting to hear the hoof beats of those horses pulling the 900 iron chariots home in victory once again. But her son never returned and the hoof beats that she heard in the distance were those of Barak and his army coming to plunder her village.

“No, Sisera was not the monster, evil though he was. The real monster is the horror of violence that causes us to reach for swords and hammers and tent stakes, even in the name of good causes. When terrorists blow up hotels or wars leave people without homes or food…God weeps to see the violence we do to one another.”

There was another pause and then a child asked, “So what’s the point of the story? It is a scary story, but I don’t believe God wants us to treat anyone like that. Jesus said to love our enemies. What’s the moral of the story?”

“Well,” said the storyteller with a slight smile, “the moral could be ‘Beware of strangers in tents offering you stake for dinner.’ But more likely the story is about surprises. Deborah surprised Barak with God’s command. Jael surprised Sisera in her tent. And God surprised everybody by overthrowing the Canaanites and liberating the people. God used unlikely people – a woman prophet, a fearful man and even a foreigner with a tent stake to deliver the people of God.

“But there’s still that monster, isn’t there? The monster that stalks our streets and our homes and our relationships even today. There’s still that monster of violence and even though God sometimes to seems to work even through violent situations to bring about good, violence the monster haunts us. That’s why we still look to God. But you know the monster of violence can never have the last word. It didn’t have the last word on a hill called Calvary and it doesn’t have the last word tonight. The last word tonight is that you are loved, children.”

Finally one of the children said, “So, why does God give us scary stories again?”

“So that when the time is right and there is a chill in the air and you ask an old woman for a monster story, there’ll be something to tell.”