See, Kenaz was a pretty important figure. He was a judge, a leader. And he was up against the Amorites – a fierce, formidable enemy. But here's the thing: when Kenaz returned to his men after a particularly harrowing ordeal, he discovered something rather strange.
They were all fast asleep.
Not just resting, but deep, sound asleep. As if some unseen force had simply... shut them down for the night. Now, you might think that would be a disadvantage. A leader needs his army. But Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews suggests something much more profound was at play here.
Imagine the scene: Kenaz stands alone, the fate of his people hanging in the balance. He looks around, and what does he see? The entire plain is covered with the dead bodies of the Amorites. Utterly decimated. While his men were… snoring.
Talk about a wake-up call.
When his men finally roused themselves, they were, understandably, astonished. The text says they were "not a little astonished." I imagine that was quite the understatement! Kenaz, ever the leader, addressed them. He asked a rhetorical question, dripping with meaning: "Are the ways of God like unto the ways of man?"
In other words, did they really think they, in their limited human capacity, could have achieved this victory?
He continued, "Through me the Lord hath sent deliverance to this people. Arise now and go back to your tents." It wasn't about Kenaz's personal strength, but about being a vessel, an instrument of divine will.
And the people? They got it.
They understood that something miraculous had occurred. They proclaimed, "Now we know that God hath wrought salvation for His people; He hath no need of numbers, but only of holiness." "He hath no need of numbers, but only of holiness." It's a powerful statement about faith, about trusting in something greater than ourselves. It's about recognizing that sometimes, the greatest victories are won not through brute force, but through a connection to something sacred.
What does this story tell us about our own lives? Maybe it's a reminder that we don't always need a massive army or overwhelming resources to overcome our challenges. Maybe, just maybe, what we truly need is to cultivate that inner "holiness," that connection to something larger than ourselves. To trust that even when we feel alone, even when everyone else is asleep, we are not truly alone. And that deliverance can come in ways we least expect.