
Not being a numbers person, I never noticed before what a big deal the Bible makes about numbers. But lately it's been hitting me: For whatever reason, God seems to care about quantifying certain details, and he makes a point of calling those things to our attention.
In some cases, I suspect the numbers are there for historical purposes—they offer credibility and context to biblical accounts. Cases in point: the number of days it rained while Noah & Co. were on their ark cruise (40), the number of years Methuselah lived (969), the number of feet Nehemiah and his crew repaired on the Jerusalem wall (1,500), the number of people who were shipwrecked with Paul (276).
But in other cases, I have to wonder if the reason for the numbers is more for spiritual purposes than factual ones. Is it because God knows about our messy relationship with integers? Let's face it, even English majors like me can become slaves to numbers and statistics. With little warning, we can find ourselves consumed by them: the number on the bathroom scale, the number on our bank statement, the number of vacation days left this year, the number of friends on our myspace page.
And as easily as numbers can become an obsession, they can also bully us. In the last week, I was accosted by two statistics, which alternatingly strike me as disconcerting or panic–inducing, depending on the day (and my hormone levels). The first, from the February '07 issue of National Geographic, is this: There are 40,000 more single women than men in Chicago. And lest you think that's just my problem for living in the Windy City, the same is true for the majority of the Midwest and East Coast. (Admittedly, there are a precious few cities, including San Francisco and Seattle, where single males outnumber single women.) The second, from a recent Barna Research Group study, is the alarming statistic that there are 11 to 13 million more Christian women in the United States than there are Christian men. Yikes—not good news for any woman looking for a godly, eligible man east of the Rockies.
Now, we all know statistics can lie—or at the very least they don't tell the whole story. Most of us have heard about the now–infamous
Nevertheless, statistics like that have a way of decentering my emotional equilibrium. Maybe—back to the Bible's penchant with numbers—that's why God emphasizes a new kind of math.
Take Gideon, for example. He lived in a time when the Israelites were clearly the underdogs. The fierce attacks by the Midianites had them cowering in caves, and the whole nation was basically on the brink of starvation. Enter Gideon. He seemed to be an average sort of guy, with his share of questions and doubts, but God called him to lead an uprising against the Midianites anyway. Gideon finally agreed and rounded up his military recruits: a whopping 22,000 soldiers!
But God's response at that point is startling—especially for those of us who find consolation in the strength–in–numbers mentality. Instead of congratulating Gideon on his impressive recruiting skills, he told Gideon, "You have too many warriors with you" (Judges 7:2). So in the face of the enemy's massive army, which was "like a swarm of locusts" (7:12), God told Gideon to systematically reduce the size of his troops! The number of Israelite soldiers dwindled from 22,000 to 10,000, and then from 10,000 to 300. Only then did God say it was time to go to battle.




