It’s the mid-1950’s, and David and Gwen Wilkerson stand outside a little church in Philipsburg, Pennsylvania. Should they take this post—and will they even be offered it? They come up with several conditions for God to meet, including “get rid of the cockroaches”—and they “put out the fleece.” Thank God, He meets all their requirements and the story of Teen Challenge begins.
Let’s go back two millennia and watch as Another faces decisions, as well. This time the suggestion is a lot more intense— “Throw yourself down!” The tormentor even quotes scripture– “He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” And what did Jesus say? Because, of course, it was He. “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”
Let’s go back another millennium, to Gideon and the archetypal case of “putting out the fleece”. Gideon said to God, “Do not be angry with me. Let me make just one more request. Allow me one more test with the fleece.” Although Gideon appears in the list of faithful in Hebrews 11, he obviously knew he was pushing the limits; he was taking God to the edge, so to speak. And David Wilkerson, in The Cross and the Switchblade, knew he was doing the same thing when he said, “I’d like to ask permission to put one more fleece before You, Lord.”
Just for comparison, secular literature has similar confrontations. Leigh Hunt pictures an arena with “ramping and roaring” lions. A lady wants to show her lover’s devotion so she drops a glove into the pit, hoping he’ll retrieve it in front of the crowd. He does, but the poet says, “The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place, Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady’s face… “No love,” quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that.”
Can you see the parallels? Rightly or wrongly, there is a demand for God (or the knight) to act. There is a demand to show how powerful He is. There is pressure to do what the subject wants. The knight yielded to that pressure, although grudgingly. Gideon’s God and Wilkerson’s God yielded—we don’t know why, but likely out of compassion and mercy. But Jesus wouldn’t put His God to the test.
The eleventh commandment, therefore, is, “Do not test the Lord your God” or, in the good old fashioned style, “Ye shall not tempt the Lord your God.”
Tempting God or putting Him to the test is, simply, trying to force His hand—and that not out of humility but vanity. For a missionary to say, “God will keep me safe from the head-hunters,” would be putting God to the test. If the missionary died would God look weak? For the missionary to say “we are going to the natives whether or not God returns us safely,” is the God-honouring attitude. It raises him to the same spiritual plane as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego who said, “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us…but if he doesn’t…we will not serve your
gods”; or Paul, who said “as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death,” or even Esther, who said, “If I perish, I perish.”
So this is the position—it is a sin to try to force God’s hand. It is a sin to bargain with God, to say “Lord, I will do what You want, IF…” The all-wise Father says “My son, give me your heart.” No if’s, and’s or but’s.
God gave Gideon permission to run the “fleece test”, but His preference seems to be, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” God may very well give signs when we ask for them but it is the low road of faith, not the high road. He makes all kinds of wonderful promises—we will never be the losers—but we can’t strike deals with God or twist His arm.