Ligonier Ministries Blog

Ligonier Ministries
Ligonier Ministries
  1. There are times when the Bible seems to contradict itself about whether we are punished for our parents’ sin—sometimes even in the same book. For instance, the second commandment forbids the worship of God through images because the Lord is “a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Ex. 20:5–6; Deut. 5:9–10). We also read in the book of Numbers that the Lord will “by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, to the third and the fourth generation” (Num. 14:18). Yet in Deuteronomy, we read, “Fathers shall not be put to death because of their children, nor shall children be put to death because of their fathers. Each one shall be put to death for his own sin” (Deut. 24:16). Centuries later, Ezekiel warns: > The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself. (Ezek. 18:20) Similarly, Jeremiah prophesies of a day when “they shall no longer say: ‘The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge’” (Jer. 31:29). So, which is it? Does God punish children for the sins of their fathers? The answer is yes and no. Let’s get the yes out of the way first. Adam, Federal Headship, and Original Sin God does punish us for the sins of our first parents (see Rom. 5:12–14; 1 Cor. 15:22). This is because of the covenantal role Adam played as a federal head in the prelapsarian covenant of works. Adam uniquely represented all his posterity, such that when our first parents fell, they incurred punishment not only for themselves but for their descendants—all people who would be born into this world through ordinary generation (see Westminster Shorter Catechism 13–17). The Westminster Confession of Faith explains regarding our first parents and original sin, “They being the root of all mankind, the guilt of this sin was imputed; and the same death in sin, and corrupted nature, conveyed to all their posterity descending from them by ordinary generation” (WCF 6.3). The only way, then, that we’re delivered from the sin and misery brought on us by our first parents is by being united by faith to a faithful head—the Lord Jesus Christ. Concerning our federal parentage, then, God deals with us according to our parents’ sins or obedience. In this way, our answer to the question at hand depends on how we define parents in context. Now that we’ve discussed Adam and his unique role as federal head in the covenant of works, we can consider the question closer to home—your father and my father, which is typically the way the question is framed. Individual Culpability vs. Corporate Consequences Unlike Adam, our parents are not in a position of federal headship in a covenant of works wherein their obedience or disobedience determines everything thereafter for their descendants. Therefore, we can safely say that God does not directly punish children for the sins of their parents. Yet at the same time, the consequences of sin often affect future generations, and in this way, there is a sort of indirect punishment. For example, the sins of idolatry and false worship become deeply planted in the religious life of any society or family. This is why, for instance, in the accounts of the various successive kings in Israel, we often read of kings who follow in the ways of their fathers—whether for good or for ill. King Ahaziah, for example, “did what was evil in the sight of the Lord and walked in the way of his father and in the way of his mother and in the way of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin” (1 Kings 22:52). Idolatry and false worship aren’t easily extinguished once they’re inherited from previous generations. It takes intentional, Spirit-wrought reform, like that carried out by Josiah, who “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord and walked in all the way of David his father, and he did not turn aside to the right or to the left” and destroyed the high places upon which idols were worshiped (2 Kings 22:2; 23). There is no guarantee, however, that righteous fathers will beget righteous sons and wicked fathers will beget wicked sons. Josiah’s son, Jehoahaz, “did what was evil in the sight of the Lord” (2 Kings 23:32). Hezekiah, on the other hand, had a wicked father in Ahaz, yet he “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, according to all that David his father had done” (2 Kings 16; 18:3). Notice that the author of Kings mentions David as Hezekiah’s father. Hezekiah followed in the godly ways of David rather than the wicked ways of Ahaz. In these Old Testament examples, we see that idolatry passes easily from one generation to another, and God often punished the Israelites as a result of their idolatry. Although the Lord does not punish people directly for the sins that their fathers commit (the Lord punishes those who follow in the sins of their fathers), their fathers’ sins often reverberate, and the consequences can be felt for generations to come. Also, although a righteous son will not suffer directly for the sin of an unrighteous father, he’s susceptible to following in the path of his wicked father. He will often indirectly suffer the consequences of some of his father’s unrighteous behavior. For example, if a father is given to drunkenness, his son is more likely to experience abuse and follow in his father’s footsteps. Nevertheless, each human bears the punishment for his own wickedness. As Matthew Henry says, “God does not punish the children for the fathers’ sins unless they tread in their fathers’ steps.” Therefore, our answer to the question at hand depends on how we define the word punish in context. So What? What does this mean for us? We can draw several applications, but let’s just note a few. First, we must be quick to repent, being especially careful with sins that have so easily entangled our family members in the past. Our sins, if not mortified, will affect our children. Second, we’re reminded of the importance of Christian parents’ properly discipling and praying for their children. Typically, God blesses through familial lines. Third, sin has direct consequences for those who commit it, but it can also have indirect consequences for those around us and future generations. Last, we’re not slaves to the sins of our parents. We are either slaves to sin or slaves to righteousness (Rom. 6:12–23). God has providentially placed us in our respective families, cultures, and societies, with all the privileges, temptations, and disadvantages that come with that context (see Acts 17:26). The parentage that truly matters is whether we’re under the headship of Adam or Christ (Rom. 5:12–21). : Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible: Complete and Unabridged in One Volume (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994), 1374.
  2. I’ve always found fellowship to be an interesting word. While it does occur outside of Christian circles—for example, in academia or among fans of The Lord of the Rings—you are sure to hear it often in the church. You might associate the word with fellowship time, that brief part of the church service that tends to involve small talk in rapid-fire succession. Or you may understand fellowship as a close synonym for friendship—just a peculiar, Christian version of it. But what is Christian fellowship, actually? The language of fellowship is popular in Christian circles because it is biblical language. The Greek word behind it, koinōnia, involves more than small talk or friendship. It refers to a close association with others that involves active participation in something larger than the individuals who share in it. Scripture uses this language to describe something unique about the relationship Christians have with one another. While much more could be said, allow me to highlight three characteristics of Christian fellowship. 1. Christian fellowship is grounded in our union with Christ. Many people seek to be part of something larger than themselves by joining a club or association, whether that be for advancing a cause, enjoying a hobby, or participating in an activity. But the association Christ has built for His people transcends all these things. The members of this association participate in Christ Himself, the One who has redeemed us and set us apart for Himself. It is the fellowship of Christ (1 Cor. 1:9). As Christians, we “in one Spirit” were “baptized into one body” (1 Cor. 12:13). That body is the body of Christ, the church, and each individual Christian is a member of it (1 Cor. 12:27). One of the practices the Lord gave us, the Lord’s Supper (or Communion), sets visibly before us not only our union with Christ but also our union with one another. It is “a participation (koinōnia) in the blood of Christ” and “in the body of Christ” (1 Cor. 10:16). In partaking of it, “we who are many are one body” (1 Cor. 10:17). In 1938, after the Gestapo shut down the underground seminary where Dietrich Bonhoeffer taught, he wrote Life Together, a brief but profound meditation on the joy and strength of Christian fellowship at a time when such fellowship was costly and precious. He wrote that we enter into this fellowship “not as demanders but as thankful recipients.” We did not work to be in this fellowship. Rather, God established it and firmly planted in it all who are united to Christ. Therefore, we can give thanks to God for providing us with a fellowship that transcends not only any earthly cause, hobby, or activity, but every barrier and border that would normally be impassible by human efforts (Gal. 3:28; Eph. 2:11–22). In this fellowship, we are made to be “fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God,” the household of which Christ Jesus Himself is the cornerstone (Eph. 2:19–20). 2. Christian fellowship is anchored in the truth. At the beginning of 1 John, the Apostle proclaims Christ “so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:3). Then John explains what it means to be part of this fellowship: > God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. (1 John 1:5–7) In the fellowship of Christ, darkness is cast out, light thrives, and the truth is practiced. Bonhoeffer once again provides powerful insight at this point: > Human love is directed to the other person for his own sake, spiritual love loves him for Christ’s sake. . . . Human love has little regard for truth. It makes the truth relative, since nothing, not even the truth, must come between it and the beloved person. Human love desires the other person, his company, his answering love, but it does not serve him. On the contrary, it continues to desire even when it seems to be serving. . . . Spiritual love, however, comes from Jesus Christ, it serves him alone. Christian love marks Christian fellowship, which is anchored in the truth and serves other believers not to win their favor or affection but first to serve Christ. It “does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth” (1 Cor. 13:6). It holds other believers accountable to the truth out of love, not out of flattery: > Faithful are the wounds of a friend; > profuse are the kisses of an enemy. (Prov. 27:6) This leads to a third characteristic of Christian fellowship. 3. Christian fellowship is a Spirit-wrought means of sanctification. One of the ways Christian fellowship benefits those who share in it is by serving as an instrument to conform them to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29; Phil. 3:10–21). Sin likes to hide in the darkness. As Bonhoeffer put it, “Sin demands to have a man by himself.” But Christian fellowship, shaped by truth and the grace of the gospel, shines a light that breaks forth in the darkness of the heart. In it, fellow sinners speak the truth in love, bear one another’s burdens, confess sin, extend forgiveness, and help one another walk in the light when sin inevitably arises (Gal. 6:1–3; 1 John 1:7). It is Proverbs 27:17 in action: > Iron sharpens iron, > and one man sharpens another. This sanctifying work of Christian fellowship means that the church is a place where believers are made to grow in the Lord and shine forth the good news of the gospel. Ultimately, this fellowship is a gift from Christ to His people, who have the joy of “being built together into a dwelling for God by the Spirit” (Eph. 2:22). : Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community, trans. John W. Doberstein (HarperOne, 1978), 28. : Ibid., 34, 35. : Ibid., 112.
  3. When people hear the word idolatry, they think of different things. Some imagine ancient rituals where worshipers bow down before carved statues. Others think of how fans “idolize” their favorite actors, athletes, or musicians. Still others may use the word as a metaphor for obsession. So, what is idolatry? Essentially, idolatry is worshiping anything created instead of the Creator. Why is God so concerned with this? Well, it’s simple: God is concerned with idolatry because God is concerned with worship. Sometimes this concept unsettles modern readers because they may perceive God as a narcissist, unhealthily addicted to His worship. This would be true if God were a created being instead of being the Creator. But as people, God made us to worship Him. This is right. It’s good because God alone deserves worship. But if we flip this around and God does not promote or protect His glory and honor, He is not acting like God. Too often, people think about God like He is a person (part of creation) while at the same time thinking about creation like it’s God (worthy of worship). Incidentally, the promotion of creation and demotion of the Creator are both inappropriate. It’s idolatry. The Apostle Paul describes idolatry as an exchange. Instead of giving glory to God, it’s exchanged for the glory of images of created things. To do this, the worshiper has “exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.” (Rom. 1:25). Exchanging the glory of God for idols is like appraising God’s value on a scale. Instead of seeing His glory (His infinite weight, value, and substance), the worshiper determines that He is less valuable than something created (in comparison, something light and empty). This exchange is the height of folly. Imagine a person seeing an elephant and a feather compared on a scale and concluding that the feather weighed more. Clearly, such a person would be out of touch with reality. How could anyone think this? How could we replace God with an idol? Only by exchanging the truth about God for a lie. When we suppress God’s revelation of who He is, we draw erroneous conclusions (Rom. 1:18). To protect against idolatry and to promote true worship of God, the Lord instructs us in His Word: > I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. > You shall have no other gods before me. (Ex. 20:2–3) This familiar passage is intentionally placed at the head of the Ten Commandments. We must not allow anyone or anything to take God’s proper place of preeminence. But what do we find over and over in the Bible? Even in the same book of Exodus, the people who were redeemed from Egypt fashioned a god out of their gold and then worshiped it (Ex. 32). Then, later, King Jeroboam feared he’d lose power, replicated this idolatry, and invented his own system of worship. Exchanging God’s honor, they worshiped the result of their own creation: “Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt” (1 Kings 12:28). These famous examples stand as bright neon lights warning us against idolatry. God hates idolatry because He loves His glory. God loves His glory because it is good. Many have observed that the first commandment is the foundation for the other nine; to disobey the others is to turn away from the true God to worship an idol. This shows how dangerously varied idolatry can actually be. We may think of it as bowing down to an actual statue, but it can also be desiring something you don’t have that someone else has (see Ex. 20:17). When we become Christians, we turn away from idols to serve the living God (1 Thess. 1:9). But this is not the end of the fight. We must continue to turn away from idols (1 Cor. 10:14), working to keep ourselves and others from them (1 John 5:21). The Apostle Paul provides us with a suitable and challenging example. While walking around Athens, waiting for his ministry partners to join him, he looked at the sites. Instead of being impressed by the architecture, he was provoked by the rampant idolatry (Acts 17:16). Paul was so jealous for God’s glory that he was actually irritated that God was not getting the honor that He deserved. As a result, he went out and shared the gospel with everyone around him. This love for God’s honor is a suitable safeguard against idolatry. So, think much upon the supreme value of God over all. Dwell upon His unfailing faithfulness, unreserved love, inexhaustible grace, inflexible righteousness, incorruptible goodness, unimpeachable wisdom, and unchanging character. Who is like this? Then think about how, in Jesus Christ, this is the God who knows and loves you. We can pray that God would help us and that we’d resolve to give God the honor He deserves and be quite uncomfortable with anything else.
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  5. Deborah was a prophetess and judge whom we could call the Joan of Arc of the Old Testament. She was a woman who, in an hour of extreme emergency and crisis, was used of God to rescue her entire nation. The story of Deborah takes place during the period of the judges. This was a time of transition in Israel’s history. The nation was formed at the foot of Mount Sinai after God had brought the people out of bondage in Egypt, and He formed them into His covenant people and gave them His law. Then they wandered for years in the wilderness before they set about to conquer the promised land. The book of Joshua then records the conquest of the land of Canaan. After the Israelites came into Canaan, they settled in territories by tribe according to their size. The form of government that they had at that time was not a democracy; it was not a monarchy. It was called amphictyony, with each tribe’s having its own leader. The tribes were organized like extended families, and they were linked together not by any sort of central government but as a kind of loose federation. The only time that there would be any kind of consolidation or unity of the tribes was during a crisis or national emergency. Leadership over the whole group of tribes was what we call charismatic. This doesn’t mean that the leaders had a lot of charisma, that they were very charming or had great personalities. It also doesn’t mean what some people in the church mean, that they could speak in foreign tongues. Rather, it had to do with how the leaders were selected. The leaders of the nation were chosen by God, not by human ballot or by dynastic succession of kings. Whenever the need arose, God would endow an individual with His Holy Spirit and empower that person to be the leader for the season. During this period, we hear of Samson, whom God raised up and enabled with power from on high to defeat the Philistines. Gideon was a judge, Ehud was a judge, Othniel was a judge, and so on. We have the heroic individuals who were especially gifted. That’s what charismatic means—that they were gifted by God to lead the nation in a time of grave danger. In the book of Judges, a theme arises again and again. A pattern develops: The people of Israel begin to do what is evil in the sight of the Lord; they begin to get enamored of the local pagan deities and thus depart from obedience to the law that God gave them at Sinai. When they do that which is evil in the sight of the Lord, He punishes them by giving them over to some pagan king who tyrannizes them. Then the people repent and cry out to God, begging Him for deliverance. In response to their cries, God raises up a judge, a deliverer. This judge drives out the pagan princes and Israel rejoices, and then the next refrain is this: “And the people of Israel did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.” So God again raises up the Philistines and the Midianites and others, and it just goes on and on and on. As the book opens, this pattern is already established. It has happened two or three times already. By the time we get to the fourth chapter, we read this: “And the people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord after Ehud died” (Judg. 4:1). Ehud had delivered the people of Israel, but as soon as he died, the people went right back to their old ways. > And the Lord sold them into the hand of Jabin king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor. The commander of his army was Sisera, who lived in Harosheth-hagoyim. Then the people of Israel cried out to the Lord for help, for he had 900 chariots of iron and he oppressed the people of Israel cruelly for twenty years. (Judg. 4:2–3) Throughout the Old Testament, the Israelites repeatedly faced military opponents who had highly developed armor and military weaponry made of iron. The Philistines, for example, were noted for their ironworks. Here we see that the Canaanites had nine hundred iron chariots, while the Israelites had only rough-hewn wooden carts pulled by horses. They didn’t have the same kind of sophisticated weaponry, and they seemed totally impotent against the military power of Jabin, king of the Canaanites. “Now Deborah, a prophetess, the wife of Lappidoth, was judging 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 people of Israel came to her for judgment” (Judg. 4:4–5). Earlier in Israel’s history, Moses led all the people in the wilderness and God made him the judge over the whole nation. If people had contractual disputes or domestic problems in the law courts of the day, they had leaders over tens and twenties and fifties and hundreds who would solve these little squabbles (Num. 11). But anything that was really significant and heavy came to Moses, who would hear the case, try the case, and make a decision. Moses was like the chief justice of a supreme court, only without the other justices. He sat by himself on the bench of the supreme court, and he made the final decisions. He was not the king; he was the judge. This is the role to which God now calls Deborah. At the time the story opens, the oppression at the hand of Jabin has been going on for twenty years. To get a better understanding of what has been happening, it is helpful to turn to Judges 5. There we find the song of Deborah, wherein she poetically and prophetically lays out what has taken place during her reign as judge. Deborah says something fascinating here. She notes that in the preceding twenty years, the main streets and highways of Israel have been deserted. The highways are controlled by Jabin, the king of the Canaanites, and so for all intents and purposes, commerce in Israel has ceased. Deborah goes on to explain what else has happened: “When new gods were chosen, then war was in the gates” (Judg. 5:8a). The Jews have started embracing the pagan deities, and the Jews are so intimidated by the Canaanites that we read the following: “Was shield or spear to be seen among forty thousand in Israel?” (Judg. 5:8b). Deborah reports that she looked at forty thousand healthy, strong military men among the Jews, and she didn’t see a single spear or a single shield. None of them would lift a finger to resist the oppression and the terrorism of Sisera, the leader of the Canaanite army. Deborah asserts: “My heart goes out to the commanders of Israel who offered themselves willingly among the people. Bless the Lord” (Judg. 5:9). This is a reference to those who are willing to pitch in, and chief among those is a general named Barak. Let’s look back at Judges 4:6–7: > She sent and summoned Barak the son of Abinoam from Kedesh-naphtali and said to him, “Has not the Lord, the God of Israel, commanded you, ‘Go, gather your men at Mount Tabor, taking 10,000 from the people of Naphtali and the people of Zebulun. And I will draw out Sisera, the general of Jabin’s army, to meet you by the river Kishon with his chariots and his troops, and I will give him into your hand’?” > Deborah goes to the chief military leader of the Israelite armies and tells him that she has a prophecy for him: that he is to go into battle against Sisera and that God will deliver him. Barak responds: “If you will go with me, I will go, but if you will not go with me, I will not go” (Judges 4:8). This response appears to overturn the idea of chivalry, wherein the knight rides up on his horse and assures his fair maiden that she has nothing to worry about, that he will protect her. Instead, the male champion of Israel refuses to go unless the female leader of the nation goes with him. Deborah therefore replies: “I will surely go with you. Nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman” (Judges 4:9a). The mighty man of valor will not have the honor of the victory; it will instead go to a woman because of his cowardice. The song of Deborah in chapter 5 continues: > Tell of it, you who ride on white donkeys, you who sit on rich carpets and you who walk by the way. To the sound of musicians at the watering places, there they repeat the righteous triumphs of the Lord, the righteous triumphs of his villagers in Israel. Then down to the gates marched the people of the Lord. (Judges 5:10–11) > Now the song is becoming a song of celebration, a song of victory. > Awake, awake, Deborah! Awake, awake, break out in a song! Arise, Barak, lead away your captives, O son of Abinoam. Then down marched the remnant of the noble; the people of the Lord marched down for me against the mighty. From Ephraim their root they marched down into the valley, following you, Benjamin, with your kinsmen; from Machir marched down the commanders, and from Zebulun those who bear the lieutenant’s staff; the princes of Issachar came with Deborah, and Issachar faithful to Barak; into the valley they rushed at his heels. (Judges 5:12–15b). > Deborah is celebrating the fact that she has told Barak to make the sound of the trumpet, which is the signal to all the tribal leaders to rally to the cause of the nation. This is their moment of liberation. Barak is going to raise the standard and march against Sisera. But remember, there is no standing army. There is no conscription. There is no central government. There are only tribal militias. The trumpet is blown in times of distress, and you just have to hope that volunteers show up. And the praise and the glory of this is that at the call of Deborah and then Barak, the rallying comes from Issachar, Naphtali, Zebulun, and so on. Verse 19 tells us that “the kings came, they fought.” These are the kings of the Canaanites, now under the leadership of Jabin. “Then fought the kings of Canaan, at Taanach, by the waters of Megiddo” (Judges 5:19). This battle takes place at the Valley of Megiddo, also known as the plain of Jezreel, very close to Nazareth, the childhood home of Jesus. This area was extremely important in the ancient world. Caravan traffic had to go through that plain to travel north and south through the region. Because of its commercial and strategic importance, many crucial battles took place there. Whoever controlled that pass, whoever controlled that plain, controlled the commerce going between Africa and Asia. Because of the area’s place in the history of warfare, the book of Revelation uses its name to speak about the last cosmic battle between the forces of evil and the forces of good. The battle of Armageddon (Rev. 16:16) draws its name from the Hebrew Har-megiddo, the Valley of Megiddo. This is where the battle is to take place between Deborah and her general, Barak, on one side and the kings of Canaan on the other. Yet the kings of Canaan “got no spoils of silver” (Judg. 5:19). They rally and expect to utterly destroy the Israelites and to take the spoils of victory home with them, but instead “from heaven the stars fought, from their courses they fought against Sisera” (Judges 5:20). The Bible doesn’t tell us exactly what happened in the battle, but it makes very clear that at that moment of confrontation, God miraculously brings deliverance to the Jews, probably through some kind of storm that flooded the river Kishon. That area features many wadis, or deep ravines, and when a sudden rainstorm comes up, these wadis fill up quickly and become conduits for raging flash floods. In the midst of such floods, chariots of iron don’t have a chance. The Israelites are waiting for their enemy, and God opens up the heavens miraculously and delivers the armies of Jabin into the hands of Barak. Yet Sisera, the general for the Canaanites, escapes. Barak pursues him, but Sisera flees into some obscure place under treaty arrangements with the Canaanite kings. He comes to the tent of a woman named Jael. There he asks for refuge and hospitality according to the Semitic law. She goes out of her way to give him sanctuary, invites him into the tent, puts him down on the finest skins, covers him up, takes care of him, and gives him milk. She calms him down, she soothes him, and he falls sound asleep because he is exhausted from the battle. As soon as Sisera is asleep, Jael takes a hammer and one of the pegs used to keep the tent up and drives the peg through his head and into the ground. She literally nails his head to the ground. So in the celebration, who gets credit for vanquishing the mighty general Sisera? This woman, Jael. It is Deborah, who is the leader, and this woman Jael, who is not even a soldier, who kills the opposing general. With that, the prophecy of Deborah comes to pass. Deborah was a woman who believed God, a woman who was faithful to God, and a woman who was willing to go up against nine hundred chariots of iron, up against a standing army, in spite of the fact that when she did what God told her to do and gave the call of alarm among her people, the leading tribes of the nation did not rally around her. The politicians avoided her, but she said, “We’re going, and God will bring us victory.” Under the impetus of the Spirit of God, Deborah led the people to freedom.