In Judges Chapter 6, there’s a man named Gideon. He’s a coward. When the angel of the Lord approaches him, he’s threshing wheat in a winepress. Completely paralyzed by his fear of the Midianite oppressors, he hides and does work that should be done out in the open, in the shadows instead. Yet the opening line of the angel when he appears to Gideon is this: “The Lord is with you, man of valor.” Even though this man has done absolutely nothing to deserve that title – man of valor (or in some translations, “mighty warrior”) – he receives it from the Lord. For some reason, this doesn’t sit well with me.
Growing up, words of affirmation or encouragement were things I had to earn. And even when I thought that I did deserve to hear a, “Good job! You did great. I’m so proud of you,” I usually never did. Needless to say, giving affirmation has been a challenge for me because I was never used to receiving it. So learning to speak words of encouragement when people deserved to hear them has been difficult enough, but affirming people when they’ve done nothing to deserve it? Completely out of the question. When people aren’t measuring up to the standard they should be at, my natural response is to tell them that they’re not doing a good job, and that they need to try harder. This makes sense in my head because from my upbringing, there’s nothing like a tone of “I’m disappointed in you” to get me moving. And that’s definitely true to an extent. Whenever I was told that I was doing a poor job, and I needed to do better, I kicked things up a notch.
There are many times in my walk with the Lord where I’ve done that (still do it, in times of weakness). For a long time, I saw feedback on the Race as an opportunity to know where I was falling short, and to force myself to work harder to be perfect in an area of my life. The “I’m disappointed in you” feedback is what I was looking to receive, and what I sought to deal out. But then I saw people giving feedback in the way that God gives it to Gideon in Judges Chapter 6, and I became uncomfortable because I had to question whether my approach had been wrong this whole time, or accept the fact that I was surrounded by delusional people who spoke the exact opposite of what I saw – delusional people who are apparently like the angel of the Lord. People would say, “You’re a great leader!” or “You did such a great job!” to those I deemed unworthy of those words, and I would sit there and wonder what in the heck was going on because the leader and the job were a far cry from what I could call “great”.
But I look at the affirmation that God gives Gideon, and because God knows what He is doing here, and He speaks encouragement when I would have given what I call a “real, honest assessment”, I must acknowledge that perhaps my thinking on this whole thing needs a big adjustment. And that just because comments like, “You’re not performing well here, and you need to do better” got me moving, doesn’t mean it was the best way to get me moving, and to get others moving for that matter. Upon examination, hearing these words usually left me feeling insecure with a deep hatred for myself, and a frustration for not being able to live up to the standard that was expected of me. I would work harder with the purpose of digging myself out of that hole of self-deprecation to earn the perfection award, and not because I knew the Lord loved me, and I loved Him and wanted to please Him. The underlying message in “I’m disappointed in you” really translated in my heart to, “If you do these things better, I will love you because you have earned it.” And when you reach this point like I did several times where you seek to earn the love of God through works, you basically spit in the face of Jesus and trample the Gospel of Grace under your feet; that “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
Tolkien says in The Lord of the Rings, “The praise of the praiseworthy is above all rewards.” Who is more worthy of praise than the Lord? Absolutely nobody. And yet, He gives His praise, which is above all rewards, to Gideon who doesn’t deserve any of it. Even after this is spoken over him, and the Lord makes it clear that Gideon is the one He has chosen to deliver Israel, he responds in fear and excuses. Gideon explains, “But Lord, how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.” Despite the cowardice evident in his work and his excuses, it still stands that God speaks this affirmation over Gideon – man of valor. This is what godly affirmation looks like? Giving credit where it’s not due? A part of me screams warning when I read this, because it almost seems like a mocking comment, or at worst, a lie. But like the Lord demonstrates here, and like my teammates demonstrate in feedback, affirmation is not about giving it when it’s deserved, but giving it when it’s needed. This practice of encouragement goes against everything that I’ve known, but it actually makes sense deep down. After all, what good is giving affirmation to someone who already receives it from the situation and circumstances around them lining up perfectly? It’s pretty pointless. But to someone who has failed miserably at something time and time again, affirmation brings life and hope into discouragement and despair. It brings life into a place of death. There’s nothing more like Jesus than resurrection.
I can accept and practice affirmation in this way not because it’s well-earned and deserved, but because these words bring life. When God created Gideon, He created a man of valor. Because of sin, Gideon was no longer living in it. That sucked. But it didn’t mean all was lost, because there was a mighty warrior underneath, and God spoke it over him. Similarly, when God created my teammates, He created great leaders and doers. Just because they aren’t living in it at times doesn’t mean it’s not there, and that’s precisely where affirmation comes in – to call them out of what has been blurred, and into what God still sees underneath all the sin. It comes to bring hope from a heavenly perspective, and to bring life and destiny to men and women crippled by sin and death. Because when the Lord is with him, Gideon can be a man of valor. And when He is with us, like He promises to the very end of the age in His Great Commission, we can be men and women of valor – mighty warriors who live courageous lives because of the grace of the Gospel. Thanks to this Gospel, I can say that we are valued sons and daughters even when we live like worthless street urchins. And I’m not being delusional, because it’s what the One who is most worthy of praise, praises over me.
“Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands hang limp. The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
