Women in white raiment

by John Lemley

Before Rahab fully realized the meaning of this strange command, her ears were filled with the crash of falling walls. In the dust and din, the cries, the shrieks, the terror, but little could be distinctly remembered, only that the desert soldiers who were taking the town were leading her and her kindred forth to a place of safety.

The narrator adds, “and she dwelleth in Israel unto this day,” meaning, the family of which she was reckoned the head, continued to dwell among the Lord’s people. May not the three hundred and forty-five “children of Jericho,” mentioned in Ezra ii, 34, and “the men of Jericho” who assisted Nehemiah in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, have been the descendants of her kindred?

As regards Rahab herself, we learn from Matt, i, 5, that she became the wife of Salmon the son of Naasson, and the mother of Boaz, the grandfather of Jesse. It has been conjectured that Salmon may have been one of the spies whose life she saved, and that gratitude for so great a benefit led to their marriage. But, however this may be, it is certain that Rahab became the mother of the line from which sprang David, and eventually Christ.

Distasteful as it may be to goody-good people, the fact remains that Rahab believed God, and when He delivered her out of her heathen surroundings, she entered upon a pure life. Whom God pardons, He justifies. Whom he justifies, He brings to that relation with Himself that would have been held if the sin had never been committed. He does not doom man or woman to life-long penance for sins that have been washed away by the blood of the Lamb.

It is not accidental that Matthew traces the Saviour’s genealogy through four women, namely Thamar, Rachab, Ruth, and Bathsheba, who were not of the Israelitish stock, three of whom were of doubtful morals, and one, Rachab, who carried a double disability. Christ came to save humanity, and that He might be an all-sufficient Saviour, He abased Himself—took us at our worst—that no human soul, however sunk in sin, might despair. And Rahab the harlot was transformed into Rahab the saint, cleansed and purified, and clothed in White Raiment.

From the thrilling incidents just related, the history of God’s chosen people runs on for a hundred years or more before Deborah comes to view on the stage of life. In the meantime Joshua had led the Israelitish hosts to victory, had subdued the several kings, and divided the land among the tribes. Then came years of rest and prosperity, and, strange to say, a turning away from the Author of all their blessings. These departures from their national faith brought down upon them the judgments of God.

The Israelites were now ruled by judges, and at the time Deborah comes to our notice, Barak seems to have been the executive head of the nation.

Deborah was probably a woman of the tribe of Ephraim. Her tent was spread under the palm-tree between Ramah and Bethel in Mount Ephraim, and she was a prophetess, in whom was combined both poetry and prophecy. Deborah stands before us in strong contrast with the customs and prejudices of her time. God’s people were being oppressed by the Canaanites. In the midst of this great national crisis she was called to stand at the head both of statesmanship and the terrible exigencies of war.

Sisera, the general of Jabin’s army, with nine hundred iron war chariots, and a multitude had assembled in the western extremity of the great plain of Jezreel, near the brook Kishon that flows along the northern base of Mount Carmel. Barak, the executive head, was either so timid or apprehensive that the campaign would fail, and thus fasten the tyrant’s chain yet more strongly, that the people looked to Deborah for judgment. She tried to arouse Barak’s courage. She even appealed to the prejudices that were strong in those times, namely, that the victory would be given to a woman if he refused to go. But in vain. He would not move without her. She knew, far better than he, that the battle was not theirs, but God’s. The Lord alone could give victory. Faith was easier to her than to Barak, for she had the spiritual insight that knows the utter nothingness of human help.

For twenty years God’s people had been oppressed by their enemies. At last they had repented of the sins that made necessary their captivity, and the Lord had inspired Deborah to rally them to resist their oppressors. Perhaps Barak hesitated, because, viewed from a human standpoint, he may have felt the utter inadequacy of the Hebrew army to cope with the Syrians and their nine hundred iron war chariots. But just there lies the secret of all success. Only when we are weak, are we strong. This is the victory, even our faith. We have not that faith till we get to the end of our own resources and trusts.