Original Meaning

David in Saul’s Camp (26:1–12)

THE ZIPHITES WERE SAUL’S INFORMANTS once before concerning David’s location (see comments on 23:19–29). They were apparently spying out David’s movements throughout their areas of southern Judah in order to gain the favor of King Saul.

Saul once again expends a significant corps of troops to chase David. The latter is at a five-to-one disadvantage with only six hundred loyal soldiers. But David also has the capacity to reconnoiter Saul’s location. When he learns that Saul has camped in a vulnerable location, he daringly enters the camp with Abishai. With the aid of a “deep sleep” from Yahweh, the two are able to slip into the midst of the camp and take Saul’s spear and water jug (26:12). The spear symbolized the king’s royal status, as is most evident from the scene in 22:6, where Saul appears seated under a tamarisk tree on a hill at Gibeah, with his royal court around him and with “spear in hand.”2 David makes off with Saul’s spear, just as the king suspects he is trying to do with the kingdom generally.

The Old Testament has other occasions when a “deep sleep” (tardemah, 26:12) fell on a person in order to allow God to perform his work without interference. Most notably, the Lord God caused the first man to fall into a deep sleep, and while asleep, God took one of his ribs for use in the creation of Eve (Gen. 2:21; see Isa. 29:10). At other times, this type of trance-like sleep became the occasion for a special revelation from God (Gen. 15:12; Job 4:13; Dan. 8:18).3

It is no mere tribute to David’s and Abishai’s furtiveness as soldiers that they are able to draw so near to the king. Rather, it is made possible through the active participation of Yahweh himself. Saul was once before supernaturally hindered from finding David, when the Spirit of God seized him and prevented him from apprehending David (19:23–24). Now Saul and his entire regiment are unaware of David’s presence because of God-induced sleep. In both episodes, the text emphasizes Yahweh’s personal and active involvement in David’s rise to power.

When Abishai wants to take advantage of Saul’s vulnerability, David’s reaction is similar to that in the cave of En Gedi (cf. 26:9–11 with 24:6). He is repulsed by the idea of striking the anointed of Yahweh. Such arrogance can only result in guilt for the one who raises a hand against Yahweh’s anointed one.4 Only God himself has a right to take the life of such a divinely sanctioned leader.

But there is also significance in the variety of ways in which David suggests Saul might meet his end: “The LORD himself will strike him; either his time will come and he will die, or he will go into battle and perish” (26:10).5 The idea that Saul might die in battle anticipates chapter 31. But David has also learned his lesson from the Nabal episode (ch. 25), that the Lord might directly strike his adversary with untimely death. With the recent events of that chapter in mind, David is more resolved than ever to allow God to work out the details in his own timing. He has learned well the lesson of his relationship with Nabal and Abigail; patience and restraint are the path to Yahweh’s best plan, while violence only gives way to more violence.

David’s and Saul’s Last Meeting (26:13–25)

Bridging Contexts

CHAPTERS 24–26 CONTRIBUTE to the extended unit’s emphasis on the growing distance between Saul and David. The history of David’s rise (1 Sam. 16–2 Sam. 5) demonstrates the logical outcome of 1 Samuel 16:13–14. At that critical juncture of the book, Samuel anointed David with oil, and he received the Spirit of God. By contrast, the Spirit of Yahweh departed from Saul, who was henceforth plagued by a tormenting spirit from the Lord.

The two episodes in which David spares Saul’s life are narrated in close proximity, separated only by the Nabal—Abigail object lesson, in order to help us “measure the development in David’s character as he reacts to basically the same set of data.”9 David matures and becomes more confident in his role as king-in-waiting; Saul is rejected. The distance between the two messianic figures continues to increase. As surely as David is certain to become Israel’s king, Saul is just as certainly running to his own destruction.

In chapter 24, we commented on some of the issues in this text. Especially important is the recurrence of reverential respect for Yahweh’s anointed one (cf. 24:6; 26:9–11). David has once again acted on his conviction that it is not acceptable to execute justice through wrongdoing. In other words, the end does not always justify the means.10 Though God had anointed David and repeatedly confirmed that he would replace Saul, David knows he must never raise a hand against Saul himself. It would be wrong to kill Saul, even though God condemned him.

Portrait of David. However, there are two subtle comments in this text that contribute to our expanding portrait of David; these should inform our application of this text. (1) The first comment is David’s reason for not allowing Abishai to kill Saul in 26:9–11. A comparison of these verses with 24:6 reveals a David who has grown significantly in his understanding of his own role in these events—and more importantly, of Yahweh’s active involvement. In both passages, of course, the central objection to harming Saul is that he is the anointed of Yahweh. But in chapter 26, David adds the various ways in which Saul might die, either by natural causes or in battle (see comments above). Either way, it must be Yahweh’s doing, not David’s.

In chapter 24, David was sorely tempted to kill Saul in the cave at En Gedi (see comments). After he took a piece of the royal robe, David felt strong remorse (24:5). But in chapter 26, his answer to a similar opportunity is unequivocal. Having learned from Nabal’s sudden death, which benefited him so unexpectedly, David has learned that it is always better to wait patiently for God’s timing and methods. Thus, Saul will eventually die by some other means, not by David’s hand. This is a much more mature and confident David.

(2) Note too the historian’s passing cause-and-effect comment in 26:12b: “They were all sleeping, because the LORD had put them into a deep sleep.” As we saw in the Original Meaning section, the term for “deep sleep” is used elsewhere in the Old Testament for a God-induced, trance-like sleep, which made it possible for God to perform his work without interference. In most of the other occurrences, that type of sleep falls on a single individual or a small group of persons (Isa. 29:10 and Job 4:13 may be exceptions). Here God causes three thousand soldiers to fall into the stupor, making it possible for David and Abishai to slip into the camp, discuss what they are going to do, take the royal spear and canteen, and make an undetected escape. Do David and Abishai think it is because of their own skills they are able to avoid detection? Are they even aware of the miraculous nature of the event? Historically we have no way of knowing, but theologically the narrator is clear: Yahweh is personally involved to protect and defend David.

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of this text is the way in which the human and divine interact. David is growing in confidence that God is at work in the events to bring Saul’s reign to a conclusion and to bring him to the throne in Saul’s place. But he is apparently unaware of the specifics of Yahweh’s involvement in this text. The comment about Yahweh’s “deep sleep” is between the narrator and the reader. David is more convinced than ever of the general truth of God’s activity, though he is unaware of the specifics.

This may be a convenient profile of faith. David negotiates his way through the gritty details without always being aware of God’s participation. So it is with all believers. We walk through life with the conviction that God loves us and is involved in the details of our lives. But only on rare and wonderful occasions do we actually become conscious of God’s abiding hand. To ask for more is to expect more than was possible even for Israel’s ideal anointed one, the king after God’s own heart.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

THE NATURE OF FAITH. The issues that we can apply to our own times grow out of the two comments just discussed. The concept of David’s growth and maturation is dealt with in the comments on chapter 25, where Christian discipleship was discussed. Here I will make only a brief comment on the nature of faith as “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Heb. 11:1).

David will not always be exemplary as a paragon of faith. But at least in this text, he is convinced of God’s guidance, even if he does not have immediate confirmation. This is also a natural part of Christian discipleship. As we grow and mature in our faith (our first emphasis from this text), we also become more confident about God’s guidance, and we spend less time seeking constantly for evidence of his moving.

Unfortunately in our modern context, the opposite development is taking place. As Christians become more comfortable in the conviction that God is at work in the details of life, the world around us has made less and less room for God. The premise that God exists and that he defines human moral responsibilities has been an underlying principle for two millennia of Western civilization. But in the closing decades of the twentieth century, Western cultures have been experimenting with the prospects of defining our responsibilities without the benefit of God. Modern humankind has learned to live without God.

One leading sociologist describes American values today as “utilitarian individualism.”11 We are mostly driven by the need for personal success and vivid personal feelings. Marriage becomes an instrument for personal development, work becomes a vehicle for personal advancement, and the church a means for personal fulfillment. We simply live as though God were not there.

A number of years ago, a close friend gave me a copy of an magazine article entitled “The Mice in the Piano.”12 The article invites us to imagine a family of mice who live all their lives in a large piano, just as you and I live our lives in our fragment of the universe. To the mice in their piano-world came the music of the instrument, filling all the dark spaces with sound and harmony. At first the mice were much impressed by it. They drew comfort and wonder from the thought that there was Someone who made the music—though invisible to them, yet close to them. They loved to think of the Great Player whom they could not see.

Then one day a daring mouse climbed up part of the piano and returned very thoughtful. He had discovered how the music was made. Wires were the secret—tightly stretched wires of graduated lengths that trembled and vibrated. They must revise all their old beliefs. None but the most conservative could any longer believe in the Unseen Player. Later, another explorer carried the explanation further. Hammers were now the secret, numbers of hammers dancing and leaping on the wires. This was a more complicated theory, but it all went to show that they lived in a purely mechanical and mathematical world. The Unseen Player came to be thought of as a myth.

I particularly liked the way the article concluded with one brief sentence, “But the pianist continued to play the piano.” Regardless of the astounding advances in science that improve our understanding of the universe and give us greater appreciation for its beauty and symmetry, there is still the question of ultimate causes. The Christian faith holds firmly to the conviction that God is that Ultimate Cause. He is actively involved in the universe in general and in the particulars of our lives, though we are not often conscious of his direct participation.

Original Meaning

David’s and Saul’s Last Meeting (26:13–25)

HAVING ABSCONDED WITH Saul’s spear and water jug, David now confronts Saul with the irrationality and injustice of his vile pursuit (cf. 24:8–22). He begins by chastising Abner, the general of the army, for failing to protect adequately Yahweh’s anointed (26:15–16). In the ensuing dialogue, David pleads his innocence and implores the king to consider how irrational is his obsession with capturing David. He argues that whether the source of his delusional actions is divine or human, there are other more reasonable means of handling them (26:19–20).

David again implies that the king’s reckless pursuit is useless because he, David, is harmless and trivial as a “flea” (26:20; cf. 24:14).6 The reference to himself as “a partridge in the mountains” seems obscure. But David uses an interesting wordplay on Abner’s desperate question in 26:14, “Who are you who calls to the king?” The Hebrew for “partridge” is literally “he who calls on the mountains,” which is ironically appropriate for David who calls to Saul and Abner on a mountain (26:13–14). David is drawing the analogy because the fate of the partridge (or “calling-bird”) was to be pursued relentlessly by the fowler, just as Saul is pursuing David.7

Saul admits his guilt and makes more concessions than he has before: “I have sinned … surely I have acted like a fool and have erred greatly” (26:21). David ignores Saul’s invitation to return to the royal court and his promises not to attack David again. It is simply too late. David merely returns Saul’s spear and expresses his faith that God will honor his actions and deliver him from trouble (26:24).8 David concludes it is safer to rely on Yahweh for protection, even in exile in the desert, than to trust Saul and his unpredictable temperament.

Saul’s parting words, “You will do great things and surely triumph,” are more prophetic than Saul could have known and certainly more than he intends. This is to be the last meeting between the two anointed ones. David “went on his way” with the blessing and protection of Yahweh. Saul “returned home,” a king in name only.

Bridging Contexts

Bridging Contexts

CHAPTERS 24–26 CONTRIBUTE to the extended unit’s emphasis on the growing distance between Saul and David. The history of David’s rise (1 Sam. 16–2 Sam. 5) demonstrates the logical outcome of 1 Samuel 16:13–14. At that critical juncture of the book, Samuel anointed David with oil, and he received the Spirit of God. By contrast, the Spirit of Yahweh departed from Saul, who was henceforth plagued by a tormenting spirit from the Lord.

The two episodes in which David spares Saul’s life are narrated in close proximity, separated only by the Nabal—Abigail object lesson, in order to help us “measure the development in David’s character as he reacts to basically the same set of data.”9 David matures and becomes more confident in his role as king-in-waiting; Saul is rejected. The distance between the two messianic figures continues to increase. As surely as David is certain to become Israel’s king, Saul is just as certainly running to his own destruction.

In chapter 24, we commented on some of the issues in this text. Especially important is the recurrence of reverential respect for Yahweh’s anointed one (cf. 24:6; 26:9–11). David has once again acted on his conviction that it is not acceptable to execute justice through wrongdoing. In other words, the end does not always justify the means.10 Though God had anointed David and repeatedly confirmed that he would replace Saul, David knows he must never raise a hand against Saul himself. It would be wrong to kill Saul, even though God condemned him.

Portrait of David. However, there are two subtle comments in this text that contribute to our expanding portrait of David; these should inform our application of this text. (1) The first comment is David’s reason for not allowing Abishai to kill Saul in 26:9–11. A comparison of these verses with 24:6 reveals a David who has grown significantly in his understanding of his own role in these events—and more importantly, of Yahweh’s active involvement. In both passages, of course, the central objection to harming Saul is that he is the anointed of Yahweh. But in chapter 26, David adds the various ways in which Saul might die, either by natural causes or in battle (see comments above). Either way, it must be Yahweh’s doing, not David’s.

In chapter 24, David was sorely tempted to kill Saul in the cave at En Gedi (see comments). After he took a piece of the royal robe, David felt strong remorse (24:5). But in chapter 26, his answer to a similar opportunity is unequivocal. Having learned from Nabal’s sudden death, which benefited him so unexpectedly, David has learned that it is always better to wait patiently for God’s timing and methods. Thus, Saul will eventually die by some other means, not by David’s hand. This is a much more mature and confident David.

(2) Note too the historian’s passing cause-and-effect comment in 26:12b: “They were all sleeping, because the LORD had put them into a deep sleep.” As we saw in the Original Meaning section, the term for “deep sleep” is used elsewhere in the Old Testament for a God-induced, trance-like sleep, which made it possible for God to perform his work without interference. In most of the other occurrences, that type of sleep falls on a single individual or a small group of persons (Isa. 29:10 and Job 4:13 may be exceptions). Here God causes three thousand soldiers to fall into the stupor, making it possible for David and Abishai to slip into the camp, discuss what they are going to do, take the royal spear and canteen, and make an undetected escape. Do David and Abishai think it is because of their own skills they are able to avoid detection? Are they even aware of the miraculous nature of the event? Historically we have no way of knowing, but theologically the narrator is clear: Yahweh is personally involved to protect and defend David.

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of this text is the way in which the human and divine interact. David is growing in confidence that God is at work in the events to bring Saul’s reign to a conclusion and to bring him to the throne in Saul’s place. But he is apparently unaware of the specifics of Yahweh’s involvement in this text. The comment about Yahweh’s “deep sleep” is between the narrator and the reader. David is more convinced than ever of the general truth of God’s activity, though he is unaware of the specifics.

This may be a convenient profile of faith. David negotiates his way through the gritty details without always being aware of God’s participation. So it is with all believers. We walk through life with the conviction that God loves us and is involved in the details of our lives. But only on rare and wonderful occasions do we actually become conscious of God’s abiding hand. To ask for more is to expect more than was possible even for Israel’s ideal anointed one, the king after God’s own heart.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

THE NATURE OF FAITH. The issues that we can apply to our own times grow out of the two comments just discussed. The concept of David’s growth and maturation is dealt with in the comments on chapter 25, where Christian discipleship was discussed. Here I will make only a brief comment on the nature of faith as “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Heb. 11:1).

David will not always be exemplary as a paragon of faith. But at least in this text, he is convinced of God’s guidance, even if he does not have immediate confirmation. This is also a natural part of Christian discipleship. As we grow and mature in our faith (our first emphasis from this text), we also become more confident about God’s guidance, and we spend less time seeking constantly for evidence of his moving.

Unfortunately in our modern context, the opposite development is taking place. As Christians become more comfortable in the conviction that God is at work in the details of life, the world around us has made less and less room for God. The premise that God exists and that he defines human moral responsibilities has been an underlying principle for two millennia of Western civilization. But in the closing decades of the twentieth century, Western cultures have been experimenting with the prospects of defining our responsibilities without the benefit of God. Modern humankind has learned to live without God.

One leading sociologist describes American values today as “utilitarian individualism.”11 We are mostly driven by the need for personal success and vivid personal feelings. Marriage becomes an instrument for personal development, work becomes a vehicle for personal advancement, and the church a means for personal fulfillment. We simply live as though God were not there.

A number of years ago, a close friend gave me a copy of an magazine article entitled “The Mice in the Piano.”12 The article invites us to imagine a family of mice who live all their lives in a large piano, just as you and I live our lives in our fragment of the universe. To the mice in their piano-world came the music of the instrument, filling all the dark spaces with sound and harmony. At first the mice were much impressed by it. They drew comfort and wonder from the thought that there was Someone who made the music—though invisible to them, yet close to them. They loved to think of the Great Player whom they could not see.

Then one day a daring mouse climbed up part of the piano and returned very thoughtful. He had discovered how the music was made. Wires were the secret—tightly stretched wires of graduated lengths that trembled and vibrated. They must revise all their old beliefs. None but the most conservative could any longer believe in the Unseen Player. Later, another explorer carried the explanation further. Hammers were now the secret, numbers of hammers dancing and leaping on the wires. This was a more complicated theory, but it all went to show that they lived in a purely mechanical and mathematical world. The Unseen Player came to be thought of as a myth.

I particularly liked the way the article concluded with one brief sentence, “But the pianist continued to play the piano.” Regardless of the astounding advances in science that improve our understanding of the universe and give us greater appreciation for its beauty and symmetry, there is still the question of ultimate causes. The Christian faith holds firmly to the conviction that God is that Ultimate Cause. He is actively involved in the universe in general and in the particulars of our lives, though we are not often conscious of his direct participation.