Judges 5:1

Then sang Deborah and Barak, the son of Abinoam on the day that the leaders took the lead in Israel, that the people offered themselves willingly. Bless the Lord; hear, O Kings, give ear, O princes; to the Lord I will sing; I will make melody to the Lord, the God of Israel. (Judges 5:1–3)

When weak men hesitate and the church is chained by anxiety, God raises up a motherly call to action—and teaches His people to sing their way to victory.

The Cycle of Judges, National and Personal

The Book of Judges shows us a cycle of sin, repentance, deliverance, and peace that happens on a national scale for Israel—but it also happens on an individual scale in our own lives. We follow God and do well in obedience, then times get easy or we get lazy. We stop practicing what we know to be true in Scripture. We stop coming to church because, after COVID, it became easy to stay home.

I remember staying home on a Sunday and thinking, "I see why people love this. I get a whole day to work in the yard and finish cleaning my cars." But the reality is we need to be in community. The Scriptures affirm that we absolutely have to be with the body of Christ. You cannot be discipled from home.

There's a saying from Michael Hoff's book Those Who Remain: "Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. And weak men create hard times." The Book of Judges is exactly that cycle—only let's substitute obedient and disobedient for strong and weak. Hard times create obedient men, because they have to call out to God. Obedient men and women create good times, because when we follow the law of God it raises the whole ship. But those good times of peace—twenty years, forty years, eighty years between judges—give ample opportunity to walk away from God. Inevitably we start to slip and fall away.

Weak Men and a Mother's Motivation

This fifth chapter continues the story of Deborah. Last week we saw the battle play out, and how Deborah was a motherly figure who rose up uniquely at a time she was absolutely needed, motivating weak-willed men to get up and go to war. That's why I titled this message "Weak Men and a Mother's Motivation."

There are two opinions among Bible scholars as to why Deborah is in Judges. One is that she's there strictly as a condemnation and judgment on the weak-willed men of that day, because no man was suitable to be a judge. The second is that she's a sign of God's comforting presence in the midst of His oppressed and anxious people. I believe both are true. Deborah is both a judgment on weak men and a sign of God comforting and motivating His people. We need both of those things today.

I can tell you from my own experience there were many times in college when I'd be devastated, thinking I couldn't get something done—and my mom would say, "No, you can do it, just go do it." And it was almost like, "Oh, of course I can do it, my mom believes in me." It was that motherly kick in the butt. That's exactly what Deborah had to do for Israel. Moms, your role in society and in your families is so important. In chapter five, Deborah arose as a mother of Israel for a nation that needed that tender motivation.

Deborah's Unique Place and the Battle Won

Deborah is the only female judge in the book—not strange to us in 2024, but very unique in her time. She is also the only judge and prophetess to sing a song of victory after being freed from oppression. King Jabin had oppressed Israel for twenty years, and he was a powerful military force with 900 chariots—the equivalent of tanks, or even F-35s, a formidable foe you could hardly comprehend going up against.

The song in chapter five actually gives us more insight into Deborah's times than chapter four does. Among the 10,000 men there were no chariots, barely shields and swords. That was the state of the union. Deborah gave a call to action, a call to obedience to the God of Israel—and only six of the twelve tribes showed up. Barak was hesitant, saying, "If you go with me, Deborah, I'll go."

Her song is similar to that of Miriam, Moses' sister, who sang praise when Israel was freed from Egypt. Both songs praise God and highlight His power for deliverance, and both highlight that He is sovereign over nature, which fought against their foes. When Israel left Egypt, Pharaoh sent 600 chariots—fewer than Jabin's 900—and God split the sea so they crossed on dry ground, then swallowed Pharaoh's army. Deborah's account does something similar: the sky opened with torrential rain, and you cannot use chariots in mud—you just spin your wheels. God leveled the playing field. The song also tells how God used the river Kishon in a great flood that washed the enemies away. I picture The Lord of the Rings, where the river rises and sweeps the dark riders away.

The Power of Praise: An Antidote to Anxiety

Over the last four years I've noticed headlines like a Forbes piece from 2023: a "massive health wake-up call"—depression and anxiety rates up 25% in a single year. There is a mental health crisis brewing. As a high school and junior high pastor, I see it: this is the most anxious and depressed generation we've ever had.

What does this song have to do with that? Perhaps the broader evangelical church has not done the best job equipping the saints for the work of the ministry, because so many saints are chained down by anxiety. Don't raise your hands, but I know many of you are anxious this morning. There's stuff weighing you down.

Reading this song of praise reminds me of point one: praise is an antidote to anxiety. Don't you think Israel was anxious—rebuilding a nation from nothing, and tense because only half the tribes showed up? Anxiety is ultimately fear. Singing has a cathartic, soothing effect; science has shown that singing releases a feel-good chemical in the brain. But there's also a spiritual effect that frees us from the bonds of fear, dread, and uneasiness.

Anxiety gives you tunnel vision, where all your problems pile up and you feel physically stuck. Coming back from India a week ago, we drove into a wall of fog in the mountains at night—you can only see ten feet, and your anxiety spikes because you can't see the turns. That's what anxiety is like, a fog. I deal with it all the time; it's a normal human condition. The question is how we cope, and God has given us praise.

Paul and Silas: Praise That Breaks Chains

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them, and suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone's bonds were unfastened. (Acts 16:25–26)

Paul and Silas were unjustly imprisoned—chained, tied to a wall, rats crawling, in the darkest, foulest place. At their darkest hour, at midnight, they did what nobody else was doing: they praised the Lord. The prisoners listened, and the earth began to shake.

Their praise influenced others locked in the same dire circumstances. Their worship didn't just release them—it opened the door for God's power and broke everyone's chains. Too many of us today are chained by anxiety, which keeps us from fulfilling God's call to action—Deborah's call to wake up, because now is God's time. But when you simply sing and use your voice, which you can control, there is a freeing effect.

Living in San Diego, we've all heard of the Navy SEALs and "hell week"—a week of being pushed through hell with almost no sleep. By and large, the men who survive are the ones able to sing in their misery. Singing lifts them out of their circumstances and becomes the glue that holds them together as a unit. The same thing happens in the church when we worship together, except we are praising God.

Inviting and Committing to Praise

God is a gentleman; He doesn't force you to praise—He invites you. The psalmist has it right:

Search me, O God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me on the everlasting path. (Psalm 139:23–24)

As Christians with the Holy Spirit living in us, things will come up that need to change—maybe you shouldn't curse anymore. The Holy Spirit convicts us of what's out of alignment with God's will so He can transform our character to match our high calling to be little Christs, a light and witness ministering the love of Jesus.

I will praise the Lord with all of my life; I will sing praise to God as long as I shall live. (Psalm 146:2)

Will you commit today to praising God with your entire life? Write it down. The reality is we would all worry much less if we praised more. There's a real mental shift when we stop focusing on the negatives and start asking, "What is good? What is God doing that I can be thankful for?" That lifts us out of anxiety and depression—not because the circumstances vanish, but because our focus shifts from our dire situation to the God who wins battles for us and has won the greatest victory over sin and death.

There's a difference in Christians who praise regularly—they're also the ones serving God in practice. Being filled with the Spirit produces both serving and singing. God wants to be that comforting presence in the midst of your misery, strengthening your weak knees, the way Deborah lifted up Israel.

The Sin of Doing Nothing

Back in 2012 a Matthew West song called "Do Something" kept coming to mind. One line says, "I'm so tired of talking about how we are God's hands and feet, but it's easier to say than to be—to live like angels of apathy and tell ourselves it's all right, somebody else will do something." How many of you have thought, "That person looks lonely, but somebody else will talk to them"? Or, "I learned amazing things about prayer in that Bible study," yet weeks go by and your prayer life never changes? It's much easier to talk about these things than to put them into practice.

We need to be careful, because half the tribes of Israel are condemned for not showing up, and the other half are celebrated for courageously joining. We have to ask: are we all in as Christians?

Then they marched down... From Ephraim... following you, Benjamin... From Machir marched down the commanders, and from Zebulun those who bear the lieutenant's staff. The princes of Issachar came with Deborah... Among the clans of Reuben there were great searchings of heart. Why did you sit among the sheepfolds, to hear the whistling of the flocks? (Judges 5:13–17)

Notice the leaders took the lead. The men holding the staffs—the senior, command figures—were the ones actually going to battle. They were servant leaders saying, "I'm all in." For too long Israel suffered because weak men were leaders. When weak men lead, a nation suffers. But Reuben was divided—great searching of heart—and the half that said, "We've got to watch our sheep," won out, and they stayed away.

There are always excuses not to do something. Western culture is the busiest culture in the world, and we get too busy to follow and obey God. Are we orienting our lives to be too busy, and modeling that for our kids—parents who were energetic, successful businesspeople, but never went to church because they didn't have time? Busyness has become a kind of drug; if you're not doing something, you feel anxious. And here's the challenge I've heard and believe: if busyness is your drug, rest will feel like stress.

Doing What the Word Says

But Zebulun is a people who risked their lives to the death; Naphtali too, on the heights of the field. (Judges 5:18)

These tribes were commended because when the call came, they said, "Let's go to war," and their leaders went with them. Yet how many men in all twelve tribes complained about being oppressed but did nothing? That brings point two: it's much easier to talk about the problem than to be part of the solution. It's common sense, but we live it constantly—easier to see the problems in our culture, nation, government, church, and other people than to be part of the solution.

Do not merely listen to the word... do what it says. Otherwise you are only fooling yourselves. (James 1:22)

This convicts me every time. We read the Bible, agree we ought to obey, but find it hard to put into practice. I tell our youth: break it down one conversation at a time. "Lord, help me not say that word in this conversation." A big lifelong problem becomes a bite-sized chunk.

Our generation, I'd say, is a generation of chameleons. We love to blend in out of fear of being outed as different. But you're called to be different—an ambassador of a different kingdom, a light that's hard to hide, the salt of the world. We have to admit the fear: "What happens when I stop doing these things, when I start obeying Christ and people look at me differently?" We say, "God, I give You the consequences. I'll be obedient to You above all else."

James was probably echoing Jesus, who asked the Pharisees, "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I say?"

Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them... is like a man who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. (Luke 6:46–49)

I want Cross Connection to be built on the solid foundation of God's word—digging deep, ready to withstand the winds and waves. The Pharisees thought they were doing everything right, but it was all about them. When we serve God, it's not about us; it's all about God's glory.

Action, Obedience, and Loving Across Divides

We say the right things and read the Bible, but struggle to practice. The word clearly asks us to be faithful in giving God a tenth of our finances, yet few do—out of fear that if I give that, I won't have it. But you're turning an earthly thing into a heavenly thing, and God blesses that in a heavenly way. Prosperity teachers have abused this, making people give and get nothing in return, but God truly says faithful giving into your church brings a multiplying reward beyond what you can ask or imagine.

We might hear a sermon on the love of Jesus—that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us—and how He went to the outcasts. Think of the Samaritan woman at the well. Today it would be like Jesus crossing the Democrat-Republican divide: "Jesus, You don't talk to those people." But He loved her, sat with her, and offered her eternal life. We've lost the art of communicating without getting defensive, divisive, and loud. The moment we hear someone has a different political affiliation, our anxiety spikes. But you have more in common with them than you think—you're both sinners who need Jesus.

We can learn the art of cool, calm curiosity. Are we willing to ask someone their story, how they met Jesus, or why they're at church—maybe they're just looking for a friend? Too often we think someone else will do it, or that's the pastor's job. No—you are the body of Christ, the hands and feet of Jesus, the salt and light. God's providence placed us in this high-stress, anxiety-inducing time for such a time as this. We're meant to be a calm presence. When I'm a chaplain walking into a house where someone just took their life, that calm presence brings the chaos down to a level where people can talk. Calm can be contagious, just like worship and praise.

The Parable of the Two Sons and the Gifts We've Been Given

In Matthew 21, a man told his first son to go work in the field. The son said no, but later changed his mind and went. The father told the second son to go, and he said, "I'll go," but never went. Which was obedient—the one who did something despite saying he wouldn't, or the one who said he would but didn't? I'd rather be the first son. It's better late than never to be obedient to the upward call of Christ.

Look at the contrast in the song:

"Curse Meroz," says the angel of the Lord, "curse its inhabitants thoroughly, because they did not come to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty." Most blessed of women be Jael. (Judges 5:23–24)

Meroz stayed home and did nothing—a sin of inaction followed by a curse. The very next verse blesses Jael, who knew how to drive a tent peg so well she killed the commander of the army without a second thought. Too many Christians are engaged in the sin of doing nothing, when God has already gifted you—as He gifted Jael—with exactly what He needs for you to win the victory. Point three: God has called us to action and obedience.

Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength that God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:10–11)

Peter makes it clear: we've received gifts to serve others and to bring praise to God. Serving isn't about receiving attention or glory.

Two Challenges

As we close, I leave you with two challenges. First, are you willing to worship God wholeheartedly today—to praise Him in a way you've maybe never felt comfortable doing before? Sing this next song with everything you have. We put the lyrics up not just to read but to sing, because there's a freeing, cathartic effect when we sing together in community, and it's contagious.

Second, when you're out eating tacos, find someone you don't recognize and introduce yourself: "Hi, my name is Garrett. Would you tell me your story?" Sit down with someone new. This is a family. We love each other, but we also need to be the family willing to say, "Has anyone talked to this person? Can I sit with you for ten minutes? How'd you meet Jesus? Why are you here?"—with that quiet, calm curiosity. We have a third service opening up, and there's an opportunity for you to use your gifts in the body of Christ. God is at work in you right now to transform your character to match your calling.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, we come to You and worship. I know there are many here who have been chained down by anxieties, fears, and depression. Lord, every one of us has things weighing on our hearts, and I pray that You would lift those up by the power of Your Spirit. As You freed Paul and Silas from their bonds, I pray that even in our misery this morning—the things we're going through that You see, know, and care about—we could together worship You, the Most High God. Help us and empower us to do that, Lord. And may our praise be pleasing to You. In Jesus' name. Amen.