1 Samuel 29:1–30:31

Original Meaning

David Is Rejected by the Philistine Rulers (29:1–11)

THE GEOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES of 29:1 indicate that this is a resumptive sentence, meaning it picks up the earlier narrative strand temporarily set aside after 28:1–2. A comparison with the geographical references at 28:4 reveals that the episodes narrated in chapters 28 and 29–30 are out of chronological sequence.2 The city of Aphek was located in the coastal plain of Sharon, which served as an assembly area for Philistine troops before moving up to Jezreel (cf. 4:1).3

Thus the actual order of these events is as follows. The Philistine forces are mustered at Aphek, in preparation for moving farther north to confront the Israelites in the Jezreel Valley. There, the Philistine generals object to David’s presence, and the events narrated in chapters 29–30 occur. Subsequently, the Philistines move into the Jezreel Valley, where they encamp at Shunem.4 On the opposite side of the valley to the south lies the Gilboa range, where Saul deploys his forces to meet the Philistines. Saul’s visit to the medium at Endor occurs on the evening immediately before the battle (see comments on 28:3–6).5

As I stated in the introduction, the historian responsible for the materials in 1 and 2 Samuel was not concerned with brute facts or with history for history’s sake.6 So here it seems likely that the intent is to heighten the contrast between Saul and David. Saul is helpless and frightened and turns to the illicit resources of the medium at Endor. He has been irrevocably abandoned by Yahweh. By contrast, David is providentially delivered from a predicament that he cannot avoid, and in his vengeance against the Amalekites appears fully capable of leading his people. The narrator wants Samuel’s reference to Saul’s failure against the Amalekites (28:18) to come just prior to David’s dismissal by Achish and return to Ziklag, where he finds it necessary to pursue and punish the Amalekites. Once again, David succeeds where Saul has failed.

As the Philistines muster for war, David and his men are organized as the rearguard. But the Philistine commanders object, quoting the famous Israelite ditty that memorialized David’s great military victories.7 The generals are aware of the danger of mixed loyalties during the strain of combat, and they apparently have experience with Hebrew soldiers who easily switched from one army to another (see 14:21). They insist that Achish send David away.

David’s questions in verse 8 feign shock and disappointment. Particularly his third question seems to contain an ironic ambiguity: “Why can’t I go and fight against the enemies of my lord the king?” Achish would naturally assume that he himself is the king David refers to, but the reader must assume, in light of the context, that David is loyal only to Saul and the Israelite troops.8 For David, the real “enemies” are the Philistines, and “my lord the king” must refer to Saul. This question implies that if David were forced to join the battle, he would indeed turn on the Philistines, showing that the concerns of these generals are well founded.

Achish is truly enamored with David. He has enjoyed a lucrative relationship with him over the last sixteen months (cf. 27:7). His simile of David as “an angel of God” probably connotes an ability on David’s part to make right decisions—that is, to discern right from wrong, to decide correctly between two difficult options (see 2 Sam. 14:17; 19:27, where the expression is used in this way). He appears to be concerned that David might try to force himself on the generals and demand that he fight in the battle. So he urges him to “get up early” (which always indicates determination to take action) and go back as soon as possible (1 Sam. 29:10).

The irony of Achish’s speech is impressive. David’s worst-case scenario has developed, and he appears to have no means of avoiding the battle. Now ironically one of the Philistine rulers praises David’s character and reluctantly prohibits him from staying. Achish thinks he is disappointing David by driving him away. In reality, he has become God’s instrument for delivering David from an impossible lose-lose situation.

The manner in which David is disencumbered from this trap leaves us breathless. We marvel at the providential care but also at the ironic, almost humorous way David “comes out smelling like a rose,” as we might say. In a single turn, his predicament, which seemed to have no solution, becomes an opportunity to avoid conflict with either Saul or the Philistines. As the next paragraphs show, it is providential that the Philistine generals have rejected David, for he has other business to attend to at Ziklag.

The Amalekite Raid of Ziklag (30:1–6)

Bridging Contexts

THE TRUTHS OF this unit of Scripture may be summarized by exploring two central concepts. (1) The first continues the contrast between David and Saul that the historian has emphasized since chapter 16. The two anointed ones are very different in their relationship to God and to his people. This text continues that contrast and moves us closer to its denouement. (2) David is described as one who “found strength in the LORD his God” (30:6). These two concepts can serve as trusses to construct a bridge from the ancient text to our contemporary context.

Contrast between Saul and David. The historian has adroitly contrasted David and Saul in several ways since David’s anointing in chapter 16. The main question addressed in these narratives is, Who can serve suitably in the new Israelite institution of kingship? The book has emphasized that Yahweh must always remain Israel’s king. In the new world of Israel’s monarchy, all of the old religious and political institutions must be transformed or reconfigured (priesthood, tabernacle, ark of the covenant, and judges system of governance). In their new forms, they will continue to be symbols of Yahweh’s kingship in Israel, though now he will rule through a designated viceroy or deputy. The human appointee will be anointed by Yahweh’s prophet with oil and will be guided by Yahweh’s Spirit. But even these signs of divine designation are no guarantee that an anointed leader of Israel will represent Yahweh suitably. Much of 1 Samuel has been devoted to the differences between Saul and David in an attempt to explain why Saul is unacceptable and David is ideal.

On the surface there are many reasons for this. Saul is unable to subdue Israel’s greatest enemies, the Philistines and the Amalekites. It may be closer to the truth to say Saul is uninterested in subduing them. From the outset, David has great success against both, from the spectacular defeat of Goliath the Philistine immediately after his anointing (ch. 17) to his divinely guided victory over the Amalekites in this text (30:8, 23).

Saul, by contrast, is portrayed as a self-absorbed, inconsistent, and unpredictable despot, more concerned with his public image than with heeding the advice of his prophetic mentor, Samuel. David, it is true, is impetuous, but only in a way that seems endearing. He is passionate about defending Yahweh’s honor before the Philistine oppressors and is more concerned about the welfare of his soldiers and the inhabitants of Judah than his own safety. At times, David risks everything in order to follow a path he believes is right, while Saul is only willing to risk everything in his efforts to kill David. In short, the first anointed one consistently rejects Yahweh’s authority as sovereign in Israel while the second anointed one is committed to nothing but Yahweh’s authority. Saul follows his own instincts without regard for divine approval while David is satisfied with nothing less than God’s approval.

This contrast between Saul and David comes to a climax in these closing chapters of 1 Samuel. Saul’s utter humiliation in chapter 28 and David’s astounding victory in chapters 29–30 set the stage for Saul’s death in the last chapter and for David’s coronation in 2 Samuel. These texts contrast their two ways of life—irrational tyrant versus passionate God-pleaser. One takes the road to Endor; the other seeks the counsel of Abiathar, priest of Yahweh. This is the story of black magic versus divine revelation, of subterfuge versus submission, of deceit versus dependence.

As we noted in the introduction to this section, the chronological arrangement of chapters 28 and 29–30 have most likely been reversed for dramatic literary effect. One scholar has suggested David and Saul are even seeking Yahweh’s guidance on the very same day, though for different reasons and obviously through different means. If so, this only heightens the contrast between them. Thus, “Saul sought help from a medium and received the promise of death; David sought help through an Aaronic priest using the ephod and received the promise—later fulfilled—of life and blessing.”16

David’s inner life. The fact that “David found strength in the LORD his God” (30:6) combines David’s personal involvement in mustering his strength with an emphasis on Yahweh as the means by which he is strengthened. This is no passive faith, no faith without works (James 2:17). It is appropriate to associate this phrase with Paul’s two-part statement, “continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose” (Phil. 2:12–13). One scholar has stated that this phrase in verse 6 anticipates Paul in this way and goes on to say: “David counts heavily on God’s being at work. At the same moment David is boldly at work on the rescue mission.”17 In this light, David becomes a historical illustration of the truth Paul teaches and urges on his Philippian readers.

David’s personal faith-based relationship with Yahweh finds expression in several ways here. His utter reliance on God in a moment of crisis is evident in his “inquiry,” that is, in his use of Abiathar’s ephod and the sacred means of communicating with God. Beyond this obvious example, the narrator subtly reveals the results of David’s faith in other ways. David’s political predicament is described in chapter 27. He cannot afford to fight for the Philistines against Israel, or against the Philistines for Israel. He is hopelessly trapped, caught between cat and mouse and with commitments to both. Without overt descriptions of divine intervention or miraculous revelation, the historian describes the solution to this dilemma (29:1–11). Though not stated in blatant terms, this text must be read together with chapter 27, which leaves the reader in awe of the providential care that protects and guides David.

David’s faith also finds expression in the decisive and persistent action he takes to avenge his losses to the Amalekites. Once he is clear on Yahweh’s promise for deliverance (30:8), he immediately sets out to recapture his family and those of his troops. Nor is he deterred by difficulties such as fatigue among his men, the seemingly impossible task of locating the Amalekite encampment, or the superior numbers of his enemy. We see further manifestations of his faith in Yahweh in his empathy and generosity. He is gracious to the lost and sick Egyptian, the fatigued men in his entourage who cannot continue in the pursuit, and his “friends” of the cities of Judah.

All of David’s actions after 30:8 are decisive, confident, gracious, and resolute. His bold steps are taken without hesitation because he accepts readily the divine word of assurance: “You will certainly overtake them and succeed in the rescue.” In a time of great crisis, David seeks God’s word, and having found it he never looks back. All in all, this text portrays David as a great leader whose strength arises from a deep reservoir of personal faith and a conviction that Yahweh will win his victories for him.

Contemporary Significance

THIS TEXT HAS MANY POSSIBLE APPLICATIONS. One useful approach would be to consider the ways in which David can serve as an example of godly leadership. He resolutely leans on God for deliverance while working diplomatically to find his own way through difficulties (ch. 29). His unswerving faith is the wellspring of all other actions, which shows him to be persistent, sympathetic, decisive, and full of integrity (ch. 30). In this way, David can serve as the paradigm for constructing a vision of ideal Christian leadership for our churches.

Guidance in time of need. However, if we limit the application of this text to our cultural infatuation with achieving successful “leadership,” we will miss what the text has to teach us about the broader themes of faith and life. In truth, this text taken together with the larger context in 1 Samuel 16–31 draws attention to the two ways between which all of us must choose. It raises the largest of all questions about revelation, authority, and faith itself. Specifically it raises the issue of how each of us must look beyond ourselves for direction and guidance, and the text draws our attention to the all-important question: Where do we turn for help in our time of need? As modern believers, we seek the face of God through the portals of his written Word. Being convinced by the truth in his Word, we must seek to act boldly on it, with confidence and hope.

One prominent Christian philosopher, Emile Cailliet, speaks of the “basic incompatibility between the Living God of Christianity and the gods that have not made the heavens and the earth.”18 Differences between, for example, the Greek perceptions of the universe and the worldview taught in the Bible are fundamentally the differences between naturalism and supernaturalism, between paganism and Christianity. Greek views of history are disassociated from religious truth, whereas Christianity is essentially a historical religion. Cailliet continues:

In his City of God, Augustine would give full scope to the implications of this purposeful Hebrew-Christian overall view. Indeed, it is to this view that we owe the best of our notion of a philosophy of history—that of meaningful duration. From the Stoic’s vantage point, on the other hand, a wise man was not concerned with time. How could he be, in view of the Greek outlook? In the context of Aristotle’s Meteors (I,ii,2,339) the tumult of meaningless cycles of history glittered endlessly.19

Cailliet has dramatically distinguished Aristotle and Augustine to illustrate in general the contrast between naturalism and Christianity. This fundamental distinction can be illustrated in diverse ways, including the two thieves on the cross. One was open and accepting of truth, the other intolerant of truth, even in his direst moment of need.

Our text offers another way of illustrating this distinction. We present-day believers must choose between paths that lead either to the medium of Endor or to Abiathar, son of Ahimelech! By the living of our everyday lives, we establish patterns of seeking advice and help, either from Endor or from Abiathar—that is, finding answers in naturalism (or postmodernism, or New Age gurus, etc.) or from the God of heaven and earth, who has revealed his truth in Scripture. These are really the only two options. In time, we will become like Saul, incapable of making right decisions, or we will become like David, who makes right decisions almost instinctively.

This text illustrates especially well David’s pursuit of God’s will in a time of extreme need. He serves as a model for relying exclusively on God’s truth just as Saul is an illustration of what happens when we reject God’s truth (ch. 28). These are the choices in life: Endor or Abiathar, the witch or the godly priest. Each of us must choose. Most of us go through our lives without giving it much thought. We step on one path or the other without considering which paradigm we are following or who is even defining the paradigms. Or worse, we attempt to redefine them ourselves. In rather pathetic ways, we often try to find new and innovative ways to the truth when the old and proven ones work just as reasonably well. Then the crisis comes, as it came for Saul and David, and we learn what we really believe.

G. K. Chesterton begins the book Orthodoxy by relating the comical story of the English yachtsman who slightly miscalculated his course and discovered England under the impression that it was a new island in the South Seas. He describes the scene of the man coming ashore armed to the teeth and talking by signs in order to plant the British flag on that barbaric temple, which turned out to be the Pavilion on Brighton (a prominent city on the southern coast of England). Chesterton explores further the emotions the man felt upon learning his mistake:

What could be more delightful than to have in the same few minutes all the fascinating terrors of going abroad combined with all the humane security of coming home again? What could be better than to have all the fun of discovering South Africa without the … necessity of landing there? What could be more glorious than to brace one’s self up to discover New South Wales and then realize, with a gush of happy tears, that it was really old South Wales?20

Chesterton explains that in a real sense, he is the man who with the utmost daring discovered what had been discovered before. He fancied he was the first to set foot in Brighton, and then found that he was in fact the last. The book Orthodoxy is itself an account of his “elephantine adventures in pursuit of the obvious.”21 In it, he confesses he tried to be some ten minutes in advance of the truth, and found instead that he was eighteen hundred years behind it. In an attempt to be original, he succeeded in inventing all by himself an inferior copy of the existing traditions of civilized religion. Chesterton concludes that he accepts Christianity because it has not merely told this truth or that truth, but it has revealed itself as a truth-telling system.

All other philosophies say the things that plainly seem to be true; only this philosophy has again and again said the thing that does not seem to be true, but is true. Alone of all creeds it is convincing where it is not attractive.22

In seeking to find truth and to stake our lives on it, today’s Christians follow in the steps of David and his reliance on the words of Abiathar. This is a story that could be repeated often, for it is the same principle illustrated in Noah, Abraham, Joseph, Joshua, Daniel, Peter, Paul, and Augustine. To turn from this tradition is to attempt to discover what has already been discovered and has been graciously revealed to us as perfectly “obvious,” as Chesterton would put it. Saul’s ultimate failure is his inability or unwillingness to accept God’s authority as the basis for his reign over Israel (see comments on ch. 15). By contrast, David not only accepts God’s authority but refuses to proceed until he is certain of it. In this he serves as an example for all contemporary believers as well as a suitable forerunner of his greater Son, the Messiah.