The book of Judges, from where we have the first reading today, covers a turbulent period in Israel’s history, after the death of Joshua and before the rise of kings. Without a central ruler, the tribes often drifted into moral and spiritual chaos.
In this setting, God raised up “judges”, not courtroom officials in robes and curly white hair, but leaders who combined the roles of deliverer, military commander, and spiritual guide. They were God’s chosen instruments to rescue His people from oppression, call them back to faithfulness, and restore peace, at least for a time. The first reading gives us the pattern of this era: Israel turns from God, falls into trouble, cries out for help, and God, in His mercy, sends a judge to save them.
A friend once told me about a fire in his apartment building. When the alarm went off, everyone assumed the firefighters would be the first on the scene. But the first “rescuer” was a 78-year-old woman from the third floor, still in her slippers, banging on doors and shouting, “Get out!” She had no hose, no helmet, no formal authority, but she moved faster than anyone because she cared more about her neighbors than about protocol.
God often sends help like that. Not the polished, predictable kind we expect, but unexpected, sometimes even eccentric, people who show up in the middle of chaos. And the reading today is the preface to all of it. The people wander, trouble comes, they cry out, and God doesn’t send an army from heaven. He sends a person.
God’s plan for rescue often starts with people we wouldn’t hire for the job. Deborah was a woman in a male-dominated society. Gideon was the youngest in the weakest clan. Ehud was left-handed in a culture that saw that as a defect. Samson… well, Samson was a walking contradiction. Yet each of them was God’s chosen answer for that moment in history.
When God raises a “judge” for Israel, the people don’t always see them as the answer. Sometimes they dismiss, question, or even resist the very help God is sending. Which means it’s possible for us to be crying for deliverance while ignoring the rescuer standing right in front of us, because they don’t fit our idea of what a savior looks like.
It reminds me of Naaman in 2 Kings, the general with leprosy. When the prophet Elisha told him to bathe in the Jordan, Naaman almost walked away offended. “I thought he would come out, wave his hand, and call on the name of his God!” But God’s deliverance didn’t match Naaman’s script. The miracle was wrapped in something that looked unimpressive.
Sometimes our “judges” today don’t look like leaders at all. They might be the coworker who quietly confronts our gossip, the child whose question makes us rethink our priorities, the stranger who interrupts our comfortable routine. The help God sends often comes in forms small enough to offend our pride.
The book of Judges is not just a record of Israel’s failures, it’s a testament to God’s stubborn creativity in saving His people. He will not be limited to the heroes we imagine. He will work through the unlikely, the unqualified, and the unexpected.
So the question is not only “Who might God be sending to rescue me?” but also “Where might God be sending me, even in my imperfection, to be part of someone else’s rescue?”
"God’s rescue rarely comes wrapped in the package we expect, so don’t miss His answer just because it arrives wearing slippers."