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About Christopher J Wiles

Hey there. My name's Chris. I'm a teaching pastor at Tri-State Fellowship, and a research writer for Docent Research Group. Thanks for stopping by; be sure to stay connected by subscribing to blog updates and more.

David and Abigail (1 Samuel 25)

In 1 Samuel 24 and 26, David encounters Saul, both times sparing his life.  But between these two stories is another, lesser-known but fascinating story about David and Abigail.

The story starts with a tragic death—the passing of Samuel, the last of Israel’s judges:

25 Now Samuel died. And all Israel assembled and mourned for him, and they buried him in his house at Ramah.

David had now lost his mentor and moral compass.  Thus he now found himself plunged into a much deeper wilderness—one not defined by geography but by the riddles and valleys of the human heart.

THE WILDERNESS EXOSES OUR IDOLS

David and his men—who at this time numbered in the hundreds—had not been idle.  They’d become something of a peace-keeping force, a sort of “neighborhood watch” over the people of the regions.

Then David rose and went down to the wilderness of Paran. And there was a man in Maon whose business was in Carmel. The man was very rich; he had three thousand sheep and a thousand goats. He was shearing his sheep in Carmel. Now the name of the man was Nabal, and the name of his wife Abigail. The woman was discerning and beautiful, but the man was harsh and badly behaved; he was a Calebite. David heard in the wilderness that Nabal was shearing his sheep. So David sent ten young men. And David said to the young men, “Go up to Carmel, and go to Nabal and greet him in my name. And thus you shall greet him: ‘Peace be to you, and peace be to your house, and peace be to all that you have. I hear that you have shearers. Now your shepherds have been with us, and we did them no harm, and they missed nothing all the time they were in Carmel. Ask your young men, and they will tell you. Therefore let my young men find favor in your eyes, for we come on a feast day. Please give whatever you have at hand to your servants and to your son David.’”

When David’s young men came, they said all this to Nabal in the name of David, and then they waited. 10 And Nabal answered David’s servants, “Who is David? Who is the son of Jesse? There are many servants these days who are breaking away from their masters.11 Shall I take my bread and my water and my meat that I have killed for my shearers and give it to men who come from I do not know where?” 12 So David’s young men turned away and came back and told him all this. 13 And David said to his men, “Every man strap on his sword!” And every man of them strapped on his sword. David also strapped on his sword. And about four hundred men went up after David, while two hundred remained with the baggage.

David’s request had been perfectly reasonable.  But Nabal would have nothing of it.  And David responds with fierce determination to take this man’s life.

Something similar happens to each of us.  When we experience hard times—whether occupationally, relationally, or otherwise—our tendency is to find our own solution.  We want the “easy way out,” because then I can experience the comfort and security and protection found in my financial circumstances, or a new relationship.  Even pornography is often not about sex, but the need to be comforted because of failures in life.  If suffering pushes me toward a deeper commitment to my career or my hobbies, it could be that these are the true gods of my heart.

Without Samuel, David needed another counselor.

BEAUTY EXPANDS OUR VISION

We know nothing about Abigail other than that she was very beautiful.  But now we see that she is exceedingly courageous in protecting her husband’s life.

14 But one of the young men told Abigail, Nabal’s wife, “Behold, David sent messengers out of the wilderness to greet our master, and he railed at them. 15 Yet the men were very good to us, and we suffered no harm, and we did not miss anything when we were in the fields, as long as we went with them. 16 They were a wall to us both by night and by day, all the while we were with them keeping the sheep. 17 Now therefore know this and consider what you should do, for harm is determined against our master and against all his house, and he is such a worthless man that one cannot speak to him.”

18 Then Abigail made haste and took two hundred loaves and two skins of wine and five sheep already prepared and five seahs of parched grain and a hundred clusters of raisins and two hundred cakes of figs, and laid them on donkeys. 19 And she said to her young men, “Go on before me; behold, I come after you.” But she did not tell her husband Nabal. 20 And as she rode on the donkey and came down under cover of the mountain, behold, David and his men came down toward her, and she met them. 21 Now David had said, “Surely in vain have I guarded all that this fellow has in the wilderness, so that nothing was missed of all that belonged to him, and he has returned me evil for good. 22 God do so to the enemies of David and more also, if by morning I leave so much as one male of all who belong to him.”

23 When Abigail saw David, she hurried and got down from the donkey and fell before David on her face and bowed to the ground. 24 She fell at his feet and said, “On me alone, my lord, be the guilt. Please let your servant speak in your ears, and hear the words of your servant. 25 Let not my lord regard this worthless fellow, Nabal, for as his name is, so is he. Nabal is his name, and folly is with him. But I your servant did not see the young men of my lord, whom you sent. 26 Now then, my lord, as the Lord lives, and as your soul lives, because the Lord has restrained you from bloodguilt and from saving with your own hand, now then let your enemies and those who seek to do evil to my lord be as Nabal.27 And now let this present that your servant has brought to my lord be given to the young men who follow my lord. 28 Please forgive the trespass of your servant. For the Lord will certainly make my lord a sure house, because my lord is fighting the battles of the Lord, and evil shall not be found in you so long as you live. 29 If men rise up to pursue you and to seek your life, the life of my lord shall be bound in the bundle of the living in the care of the Lord your God. And the lives of your enemies he shall sling out as from the hollow of a sling. 30 And when the Lord has done to my lord according to all the good that he has spoken concerning you and has appointed you prince over Israel, 31 my lord shall have no cause of grief or pangs of conscience for having shed blood without cause or for my lord working salvation himself. And when the Lord has dealt well with my lord, then remember your servant.”

Christianity has a long history of interpreting “beauty” as a reflection of the character of God.  Every artist, musician, or nature-lover can affirm this.  Yes, even you hunters might think you’re too “manly” to talk about “beauty,” but in reality you connect in some mysterious, soulish way to God through beauty and nature—even if our hearts can’t always express it.

In the movie The Shawshank Redemption, Andy Dufresne is a man imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit.  Yet he rises to the respect of his prison guards and warden, the latter allowing him to start a prison library.  When he receives the first shipment of books and records, he barricades himself inside the office, where he puts on a vinyl recording of an Italian opera.  Then, he takes the prison intercom system, and plays the record for all to hear.  The entire prison stops in their tracks, and turns their focus to the sound of the music playing through the public address system.  Red—Morgan Freeman’s character—narrates the scene:

I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.

Beauty reminds us—on almost a subliminal level—that there is something greater outside the prison of self.  An appreciation of beauty is not necessarily akin to actual worship—but in many instances worship can spring forth from a heart sensitized by beauty.

WORSHIP EXPRESSES OUR TRUST

David’s response is magnificent:

32 And David said to Abigail, “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who sent you this day to meet me! 33 Blessed be your discretion, and blessed be you, who have kept me this day from bloodguilt and from working salvation with my own hand! 34 For as surely as the Lord, the God of Israel, lives, who has restrained me from hurting you, unless you had hurried and come to meet me, truly by morning there had not been left to Nabal so much as one male.” 35 Then David received from her hand what she had brought him. And he said to her, “Go up in peace to your house. See, I have obeyed your voice, and I have granted your petition.”

36 And Abigail came to Nabal, and behold, he was holding a feast in his house, like the feast of a king. And Nabal’s heart was merry within him, for he was very drunk. So she told him nothing at all until the morning light. 37 In the morning, when the wine had gone out of Nabal, his wife told him these things, and his heart died within him, and he became as a stone. 38 And about ten days later the Lord struck Nabal, and he died.

39 When David heard that Nabal was dead, he said, “Blessed be the Lord who has avenged the insult I received at the hand of Nabal, and has kept back his servant from wrongdoing. The Lord has returned the evil of Nabal on his own head.” Then David sent and spoke to Abigail, to take her as his wife. 40 When the servants of David came to Abigail at Carmel, they said to her, “David has sent us to you to take you to him as his wife.” 41 And she rose and bowed with her face to the ground and said, “Behold, your handmaid is a servant to wash the feet of the servants of my lord.” 42 And Abigail hurried and rose and mounted a donkey, and her five young women attended her. She followed the messengers of David and became his wife.

43 David also took Ahinoam of Jezreel, and both of them became his wives. 44 Saul had given Michal his daughter, David’s wife, to Palti the son of Laish, who was of Gallim.

David repents, God intervenes, and Abigail becomes David’s wife.  And in the midst of the scene David rejoices in what God has done to remind him of who’s in charge.

Worship, therefore, is not merely something that we participate in an hour a week.  It’s something that happens to us.  It changes us, shapes our hearts toward God’s plans and away from our own.  Church can therefore never be an interruption in our week, but it serves to remind us what our week is fundamentally about: worshipping God in every aspect and every moment of our lives.

 

Commitment or Convenience? (1 Samuel 24)

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”  This is a paraphrase from a Robert Burns’ 18th-Century poem.  Others have defined frustration as the distance between expectation and reality.  When my plans fail to unfold the way I desire, it’s devastating.  So when I think about David, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to know God’s promises, only to live in the absence of their fulfillment.  David spent something like 10 years on the run from Saul’s vicious pursuit.  David was not without his supporters (roughly 600 men), but they remained far outnumbered by Saul’s superior forces (3,000 men).

So when an opportunity presented itself to turn the tide, David must have faced an overwhelming temptation:

When Saul returned from following the Philistines, he was told, “Behold, David is in the wilderness of Engedi.” Then Saul took three thousand chosen men out of all Israel and went to seek David and his men in front of the Wildgoats’ Rocks. And he came to the sheepfolds by the way, where there was a cave, and Saul went in to relieve himself. Now David and his men were sitting in the innermost parts of the cave. And the men of David said to him, “Here is the day of which the Lord said to you, ‘Behold, I will give your enemy into your hand, and you shall do to him as it shall seem good to you.’” Then David arose and stealthily cut off a corner of Saul’s robe. And afterward David’s heart struck him, because he had cut off a corner of Saul’s robe. He said to his men, “The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my lord, the Lord’s anointed, to put out my hand against him, seeing he is the Lord’s anointed.” So David persuaded his men with these words and did not permit them to attack Saul. And Saul rose up and left the cave and went on his way. (1 Samuel 24:1-7)

David faced a crisis.  He had only to extend his sword and his troubles would be over.  There will be many times when you and I will face a wilderness all our own.  For some it’s a season of prolonged difficulty at work.  Or at home.  Maybe a season—or even a lifetime—of singleness.  Childlessness.  Solitude.  When such circumstances endure, it’s only natural to want a way out.  And it’s hard to deny something that “feels right.”  Singles end their search for “Mr./Mrs. Right” in favor of the “Right Now.”  Those pursuing a promotion at work might be tempted to see an opportunity for advancement—but only if it means shirking their responsibilities toward their wife and kids.

David’s cutting off of Saul’s robe—a symbolic gesture testifying toward David’s threatening Saul’s leadership—only panged David’s conscience.  Why?  Because David understood something altogether basic: immediate solutions do not satisfy ultimate hopes.  Career advancement, a new relationship, a chance at happiness—surely these things seem so good that it’s hard not to think that God might be in this.  But only later do we realize that those pursuits only contradict God’s good and perfect will.  David understood that God’s plan wouldn’t be accomplished by stooping to Saul’s level.  And if we seek to follow Jesus, then it means being satisfied in God’s plans—even if they come at the expense of our own happiness.  Commitment will always be a greater challenge than convenience—but it also brings the promise of greater joy.

DAVID AND SAUL

Following this scene David and Saul have a verbal encounter—from a safe distance, of course.

Afterward David also arose and went out of the cave, and called after Saul, “My lord the king!” And when Saul looked behind him, David bowed with his face to the earth and paid homage. And David said to Saul, “Why do you listen to the words of men who say, ‘Behold, David seeks your harm’? 10 Behold, this day your eyes have seen how the Lord gave you today into my hand in the cave. And some told me to kill you, but I spared you. I said, ‘I will not put out my hand against my lord, for he is the Lord’s anointed.’ 11 See, my father, see the corner of your robe in my hand. For by the fact that I cut off the corner of your robe and did not kill you, you may know and see that there is no wrong or treason in my hands. I have not sinned against you, though you hunt my life to take it.12 May the Lord judge between me and you, may the Lord avenge me against you, but my hand shall not be against you. 13 As the proverb of the ancients says, ‘Out of the wicked comes wickedness.’ But my hand shall not be against you. 14 After whom has the king of Israel come out? After whom do you pursue? After a dead dog! After a flea! 15 May the Lord therefore be judge and give sentence between me and you, and see to it and plead my cause and deliver me from your hand.” (1 Samuel 24:8-14)

David’s speech reflects supreme devotion—though ultimately not to Saul, but to God.  Saul’s response seems—at least superficially—seems to be one of gratitude.  In fact, it’s the only time when we actually see Saul cry.

16 As soon as David had finished speaking these words to Saul, Saul said, “Is this your voice, my son David?” And Saul lifted up his voice and wept. 17 He said to David, “You are more righteous than I, for you have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil.18 And you have declared this day how you have dealt well with me, in that you did not kill me when the Lord put me into your hands. 19 For if a man finds his enemy, will he let him go away safe? So may the Lord reward you with good for what you have done to me this day. 20 And now, behold, I know that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand. 21 Swear to me therefore by the Lord that you will not cut off my offspring after me, and that you will not destroy my name out of my father’s house.” 22 And David swore this to Saul. Then Saul went home, but David and his men went up to the stronghold.(1 Samuel 24:16-22)

But Saul’s words ring mightily hollow.  In his commentary on David’s life, Eugene Peterson regards Saul’s speech as “a classic instance of a sentimentalized spirituality:”

“Saul concedes that David is right and attests that he knows David is the rightful king who will eventually take over.  He acknowledges all that the circumstance in the cave reveals as the truth of their respective kingships.  There is nothing in the account that suggests that Saul does not feel and believe what he is saying while he is saying it.  But there is no character to back it up, no covenant (as there is between [Jonathan] and David) on which to build a life of repentance and prayer, relationship and obedience.  Saul displays exquisite religious emotions, but his life does not change in the slightest degree.”  (Eugene H. Peterson, First and Second Samuel, p. 118)

Surely David must suspect this.  David’s men are probably voicing it in their ranks.  The most shocking thing about the gospel is that Jesus loves the unlovely.  To the church in Rome, Paul writes:

“while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. 10 For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.” (Romans 5:8-10)

Christ died for his enemies, and at the hands of his enemies. Jesus died for me before I ever gave hint at commitment to him.  That’s not convenience—that’s grace.  And like David, Jesus’ greater commitment is to his Father’s glory and plan.  To live within that plan means abandoning our immediate solutions in favor of ultimate joy.

Shame or Glory (1 Samuel 19)

The greatest of human tragedies is not to live for self, but the tragedy of unrepentance.  Every human being is born selfish, hostile toward God.  It is only through God’s grace that we are brought near through the blood of Jesus.

The story of 1 Samuel records two equal and opposite reactions to King David.  We find the sacrificial loyalty of Jonathan, but we also find the deep-seated hatred of King Saul.   The contrasting reactions were meant to give readers pause: How do you react to God’s chosen King?  For the original readers of these stories, this meant how they reacted to the line of kings who came from David onward.  For those living in the age of the Church, this means how we react to the true King: Jesus, who also comes from the line of David.

DAVID’S ESCAPE

In 1 Samuel 19, we find the story reaching critical mass.  Saul’s earlier indirect attempts to assassinate David had proved unsuccessful, so now the gloves come off.  Fortunately, Jonathan remains committed to his friend David, and pleads his case before his father:

And Saul spoke to Jonathan his son and to all his servants, that they should kill David. But Jonathan, Saul’s son, delighted much in David. 2 And Jonathan told David, “Saul my father seeks to kill you. Therefore be on your guard in the morning. Stay in a secret place and hide yourself. 3 And I will go out and stand beside my father in the field where you are, and I will speak to my father about you. And if I learn anything I will tell you.” 4 And Jonathan spoke well of David to Saul his father and said to him, “Let not the king sin against his servant David, because he has not sinned against you, and because his deeds have brought good to you. 5 For he took his life in his hand and he struck down the Philistine, and the Lord worked a great salvation for all Israel. You saw it, and rejoiced. Why then will you sin against innocent blood by killing David without cause?”6 And Saul listened to the voice of Jonathan. Saul swore, “As the Lord lives, he shall not be put to death.” 7 And Jonathan called David, and Jonathan reported to him all these things. And Jonathan brought David to Saul, and he was in his presence as before.

Unfortunately, this peace wasn’t meant to last.  In fact, we might even wonder if Saul is just “playing nice,” biding his time until the next opportunity.  A short while later, an evil spirit once again settles on Saul—the third time this is recorded (cf. 16:14; 18:10).  David had evaded Saul’s attacks before, now he would have to escape them entirely:

8 And there was war again. And David went out and fought with the Philistines and struck them with a great blow, so that they fled before him. 9 Then a harmful spirit from the Lord came upon Saul, as he sat in his house with his spear in his hand. And David was playing the lyre. 10 And Saul sought to pin David to the wall with the spear, but he eluded Saul, so that he struck the spear into the wall. And David fled and escaped that night.

 

11 Saul sent messengers to David’s house to watch him, that he might kill him in the morning. But Michal, David’s wife, told him, “If you do not escape with your life tonight, tomorrow you will be killed.” 12 So Michal let David down through the window, and he fled away and escaped. 13 Michal took an image and laid it on the bed and put a pillow of goats’ hair at its head and covered it with the clothes. 14 And when Saul sent messengers to take David, she said, “He is sick.” 15 Then Saul sent the messengers to see David, saying, “Bring him up to me in the bed, that I may kill him.” 16 And when the messengers came in, behold, the image was in the bed, with the pillow of goats’ hair at its head.17 Saul said to Michal, “Why have you deceived me thus and let my enemy go, so that he has escaped?” And Michal answered Saul, “He said to me, ‘Let me go. Why should I kill you?’”

Like Jonathan, Michal’s devoted love protects David from harm.  She creates a ruse to fool Saul’s messengers—using a household idol to create the illusion of David in bed, sick.

But we might ask a critical question: why would David’s house contain an idol?  In the ancient world, sometimes these household idols were specific statues that you’d inherit—passed down like some bizarre family heirloom.  But it’s hard to imagine that Michal—or anyone in this premodern society—could completely separate family tradition from pagan worship.  The text doesn’t specify just who owned this idol, nor does it give us reason to throw rocks at David for permitting such an object in his home.   Yet it reminds us that he inhabited a world full of misplaced faith—trusting in lesser gods for security or wealth.

SAUL’S RUIN

Now that David had escaped, the text describes the further descent of Saul:

18 Now David fled and escaped, and he came to Samuel at Ramah and told him all that Saul had done to him. And he and Samuel went and lived at Naioth. 19 And it was told Saul, “Behold, David is at Naioth in Ramah.” 20 Then Saul sent messengers to take David, and when they saw the company of the prophets prophesying, and Samuel standing as head over them, the Spirit of God came upon the messengers of Saul, and they also prophesied. 21 When it was told Saul, he sent other messengers, and they also prophesied. And Saul sent messengers again the third time, and they also prophesied.22 Then he himself went to Ramah and came to the great well that is in Secu. And he asked, “Where are Samuel and David?” And one said, “Behold, they are at Naioth in Ramah.” 23 And he went there to Naioth in Ramah. And the Spirit of God came upon him also, and as he went he prophesied until he came to Naioth in Ramah. 24 And he too stripped off his clothes, and he too prophesied before Samuel and lay naked all that day and all that night. Thus it is said, “Is Saul also among the prophets?”

Do you remember hearing that last line before?  Is Saul among the prophets? was a question posed earlier (1 Samuel 10:12) when Saul was first anointed.  It’s as if the writer is trying to get us to think back to the day that Saul’s kingship began—and just how far he’d fallen.

And so we now see the radical difference between Jonathan and Saul.  Jonathan gave his clothes to David as an act of self-sacrifice (1 Samuel 18:1-5).  Saul stripped his clothes as an act of self-destruction.  What did he “prophesy?”  It makes little difference.  At this point he was far from God, a man who’d gone from splendor to shame through a series of poor choices.  And those are the final consequences of every person’s reaction to God’s chosen king: you either bare your soul in love, or be stripped bare in shame.  This is why Jesus would later warn the religious leaders that “What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs” (Luke 12:3).  And that’s horrifying—until we consider that our only other recourse is to lay ourselves bare before the great physician and unmask our secrets and our shame.  We will be clothed in Christ’s mercy, or covered in the shame and scandal of a life lived for self.

SPIRITUAL ENDURANCE

What about us?  What about the “long haul?”  Is it possible to start out like Jonathan—full of love for God and for Jesus—and only end up like Saul?  Experience tells us the answer is a haunting “yes.”  We can easily name those who have been “on fire” for God, only later to walk away from faith.  Still more painfully, we can name those who walked to their graves without having publicly turned back toward God.

There are many Godly, intelligent Christians who love Jesus deeply and believe that you can lose your salvation.  I am not one of them.  I believe that “he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).  I believe that “those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified” (Romans 8:30).  I also believe there are two critical elements in this passage that we need to think deeply about:

  • The presence of the Spirit. In Saul’s day, the Holy Spirit came upon select individuals for the purpose of leadership.  In the age of the Church, the Holy Spirit comes upon all believers to empower them the live on mission (Acts 1:8).  So while Saul saw the Spirit leave, Christians do not share this same fear.  And as he departed, Jesus promised that “I will be with you until the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).
  • The object of faith. Michal’s home contained idols.  And—again—while we needn’t throw rocks, we recognize that David inhabited a world of imperfect trust and divided beliefs.  Often, I hear people say: “I just don’t know that much about the Bible,” or “I just wish I could pray more.”  But God so regularly rescues idolatrous people that we have no choice but to conclude that I am acceptable to God not because of the quantity of my faith, but the object of my faith.  If God saves me at all, it says more about his goodness than my own.

But surely we can’t afford to be lazy?  Surely not.  The writer of Hebrews challenges his readers to “run the race set before you” (Hebrews 12:1).  Good works are never the basis of faith—but they are the expression of faith.  Every follower of Jesus is challenged to daily take up the cross and follow Jesus in a hostile world, that one day we might not be stripped in shame but clothed in glory.

 

How to Land a Wife in 200 Easy Steps (or: “Still a Better Love Story than Twilight”–1 Samuel 18:12-30)

Few things possess more horsepower than romance.   Bob Dylan’s 2001 song “Bye and Bye” speaks of a man obsessed: “The future for me is already a thing of the past.  You were my first love and you will be my last.”  Desire is deeply ingrained in the heart of ever man and woman.  While marriage can never be elevated to the status of an idol (after all, singleness can be a Godly gift, whether for a season or a lifetime), marriage remains God’s ideal design for mankind.

So it’s little wonder that Saul would capitalize on this fundamental fact of human nature to eliminate his up-and-coming rival, David.   Having failed to kill David with his spear, Saul hatches two plots to have David killed indirectly.

PLOT #1

Saul’s first plot boils to the front of his mind after the people of Israel continue to express their allegiance to David and his military might.

 Saul was afraid of David because the Lord was with him but had departed from Saul. 13 So Saul removed him from his presence and made him a commander of a thousand.  And he went out and came in before the people. 14 And David had success in all his undertakings, for the Lord was with him. 15 And when Saul saw that he had great success, he stood in fearful awe of him. 16 But all Israel and Judah loved David, for he went out and came in before them.

Then Saul said to David, “Here is my elder daughter Merab.  I will give her to you for a wife. Only be valiant for me and fight the Lord’s battles.” For Saul thought, “Let not my hand be against him, but let the hand of the Philistines be against him.” 18 And David said to Saul, “Who am I, and who are my relatives, my father’s clan in Israel, that I should be son-in-law to the king?” 19 But at the time when Merab, Saul’s daughter, should have been given to David, she was given to Adriel the Meholathite for a wife.

Saul is cold, calculating.  Do you understand his scheme?  In verse 17, he essentially says to himself, Let’s let the bad guys do my dirty work for me.  By sending David into deeper conflict, the Philistine adversaries would take him out.  The bad guys would get the blame, and Saul would keep his hands clean.

The problem?  David seems to think himself unworthy to be the king’s son-in-law.  Sadly, in the ancient world women were viewed as commodities to be bought or won.  David lacked a sufficient “bridal price” to pay for the privilege of marrying Merab.  Though this marriage would advance his career, he declines—which is why Merab is given to another man.

PLOT #2

Not to be outdone, Saul hatches another, similar plan.

20 Now Saul’s daughter Michal loved David. And they told Saul, and the thing pleased him. 21 Saul thought, “Let me give her to him, that she may be a snare for him and that the hand of the Philistines may be against him.” Therefore Saul said to David a second time, “You shall now be my son-in-law.” 22 And Saul commanded his servants, “Speak to David in private and say, ‘Behold, the king has delight in you, and all his servants love you. Now then become the king’s son-in-law.’” 23 And Saul’s servants spoke those words in the ears of David. And David said, “Does it seem to you a little thing to become the king’s son-in-law, since I am a poor man and have no reputation?” 24 And the servants of Saul told him, “Thus and so did David speak.” 25 Then Saul said, “Thus shall you say to David, ‘The king desires no bride-price except a hundred foreskins of the Philistines, that he may be avenged of the king’s enemies.’”  Now Saul thought to make David fall by the hand of the Philistines.

Saul’s plan was simple: if David couldn’t afford a “bridal price,” then Saul would engineer a situation wherein David could collect this price.  But…most people don’t include, you know, body parts on their wedding registry.  Why this bizarre request?  Well, practically, since circumcision represented Israel’s inclusion in God’s promises dating back to Abraham, then the foreskins would prove that he truly slaughtered 100 of God’s enemies.  In Mitchell Dahood’s commentary on Psalms, he notes that in Psalm 118 David writes: “All nations surround me; in the name of the LORD I cut them off” (Ps 118:10-12).  The “cut them off” in this passage literally means “circumcise”—the act here is more than merely killing their enemies, but separating them from the community of God.  For Saul, this steep price would ensure that David wouldn’t come back alive.

 26 And when his servants told David these words, it pleased David well to be the king’s son-in-law.  Before the time had expired, 27 David arose and went, along with his men, and killed two hundred of the Philistines.  And David brought their foreskins, which were given in full number to the king, that he might become the king’s son-in-law. And Saul gave him his daughter Michal for a wife. 28 But when Saul saw and knew that the Lord was with David, and that Michal, Saul’s daughter, loved him, 29 Saul was even more afraid of David. So Saul was David’s enemy continually.

30 Then the commanders of the Philistines came out to battle, and as often as they came out David had more success than all the servants of Saul, so that his name was highly esteemed.

Earlier David had been said to “kill his tens of thousands.”  Now, he doubly satisfies Saul’s requirements, returning with 200 foreskins.  What Saul had intended as an evil scheme only deepened the nation’s love for David.  Even Saul’s daughter Michal joins her brother Jonathan in her loyal love for David.  Saul’s plans did not succeed, but only result in David being further exalted.

THE TRUE AND BETTER BRIDEGROOM

By now you’ve noticed that we’re making an effort to read the Old Testament twice: the first time to understand the original historical and cultural meanings, and the second time to understand how the whole Bible is a story about Jesus.  What do we make of such bizarre stories as this?

First, we recognize that like David, Jesus entered into a world whose reactions toward him were mixed.  Though many praised his miraculous works, the religious leaders felt threatened by his growing popularity.  And so, like Saul, they schemed to have him killed.  And like David, this scheme only backfired.  The hour of Christ’s greatest humiliation would only be his greatest hour of glory—through Christ’s death and resurrection, he would “draw all men to himself” (John 12:32).

And the Bible is also a story about marriage.  Jesus, the true and better David, would pay a unique bridal price to rescue his bride, the Church.  Paul picks up on this theme in his letter to the Church at Ephesus:

“Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, 27 so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” (Ephesians 5:25-27)

David would produce his required “bridal price” while preserving his life.  Jesus would pay the “bridal price” for the Church by relinquishing his life.

What does that mean for you and I?  This means that though we are deeply flawed, Jesus was willing to go to great lengths to rescue us (cf. Romans 5:8).  Therefore, I don’t need to derive worth from idolatrous pursuits.  I view my career not as a source of identity, but as an opportunity to express my faith.  I abstain from self-indulgence or even pornography—not only because I recognize these things as “bad” but because I understand that Christ is infinitely greater.  If I am married, I no longer derive worth from my spouse, but ascribe worth to my spouse.

Christ loves you.  He died for you.  What else is greater than that?  Who can you share this love with today?

 

The Aftermath of Success (1 Samuel 17:55-58; 18:1-11)

Someone will always be better than you.  So long as you derive your worth from your abilities, your performance, your good looks, you will always live in fear of being shown up by someone more capable, someone more successful, someone more good looking.

In 2013, an article in Slate magazine published an article titled: “Is Facebook Making Us Sad?” According to new social research, social media only increases our natural tendency to compare ourselves to others:

“The human habit of overestimating other people’s happiness is nothing new, of course. … By showcasing the most witty, joyful, bullet-pointed versions of people’s lives, and inviting constant comparisons in which we tend to see ourselves as the losers, Facebook appears to exploit an Achilles’ heel of human nature. …Facebook is, after all, characterized by the very public curation of one’s assets in the form of friends, photos, biographical data, accomplishments, pithy observations, even the books we say we like. Look, we have baked beautiful cookies. We are playing with a new puppy. We are smiling in pictures (or, if we are moody, we are artfully moody.) Blandness will not do, and with some exceptions, sad stuff doesn’t make the cut, either. The site’s very design—the  presence of a “Like” button, without a corresponding “Hate” button—reinforces a kind of upbeat spin doctoring.”

How you respond to your neighbors’ happiness reveals the true god of your heart.

In short, we want to be just like our neighbors—but just a little bit better.  When we fail to “measure up” to these standards, we feel let down, disappointed—maybe even angry.

The slaying of Goliath marked a turning point in the life of David.  From this day forward he wouldn’t be merely a shepherd boy—this unlucky eighth son of a Bethlehem farmer.  No; this was a force to be reckoned with.

While David was on the battlefield, Saul was pondering who exactly this young man was:

55As soon as Saul saw David go out against the Philistine, he said to Abner, the commander of the army, “Abner, whose son is this youth?” And Abner said, “As your soul lives, O king, I do not know.” 56And the king said, “Inquire whose son the boy is.” 57And as soon as David returned from the striking down of the Philistine, Abner took him, and brought him before Saul with the head of the Philistine in his hand. 58And Saul said to him, “Whose son are you, young man?” And David answered, “I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.”

These questions are bizarre.  After all, Saul had met David before—he’d been the court musician.  Some think Saul is trying to gain a better understanding of his family history—but he’d met Jesse as well.  In his Handbook to the Historical Books, Victor Hamilton suggests that maybe Saul is asking a selfish question.

“Might it be that Saul, well aware of David’s prowess and hence usefulness to Saul in the future, is asking David to renounce Jesse as his father and proclaim himself Saul’s son?  After all, had not Samuel earlier predicted that Israel’s kings ‘will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots’ (8:11)?  That seems to be literally fulfilled in 8:2, where we read that ‘Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father’s house.’”  (Victor Hamilton, Handbook to the Historical Books, p. 261)

David’s life would never be the same, but now we’d see the ways that the royal family—both Saul and his son Jonathan—would react to this rising superstar.  And the story reveals the ways our own hearts might respond to God’s anointed King Jesus.

DAVID AND JONATHAN

Jonathan was Saul’s son, and in every “natural” sense the heir to the throne.  There was just one problem: God had declared that the throne would pass to David.  The story of David and Jonathan picks up immediately after the falling of Goliath.

As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. 2 And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father’s house. 3 Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. 4 And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt. 5 And David went out and was successful wherever Saul sent him, so that Saul set him over the men of war. And this was good in the sight of all the people and also in the sight of Saul’s servants.

The story of David and Jonathan is one of the best-loved stories of friendship in all of scripture.  Jonathan’s love for David ran deep—and strong.  Yet for clarity’s sake, we should note that this love did not go beyond friendship (as some have historically suggested)—nowhere else do we hear the Hebrew word ahab being used to refer to romantic love.  No; this was brotherly affection—yet it’s impossible to be unmoved by the sacrificial nature of it. Jonathan strips himself of his own robe and armor, giving it to David.  The gesture is deeply symbolic: Jonathan is essentially abdicating his right to the throne.  By handing over these items, he essentially tells David: Here; these are yours.  And the throne goes with it.

DAVID AND SAUL

Saul’s response to David is less generous.  He’d essentially used David as a pawn in his army—ironically not that different from the way the Philistines had used Goliath.  But when David is successful, Saul is incensed.

6 As they were coming home, when David returned from striking down the Philistine, the women came out of all the cities of Israel, singing and dancing, to meet King Saul, with tambourines, with songs of joy, and with musical instruments.1 7 And the women sang to one another as they celebrated,

“Saul has struck down his thousands,

and David his ten thousands.”

8 And Saul was very angry, and this saying displeased him. He said, “They have ascribed to David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed thousands, and what more can he have but the kingdom?”9 And Saul eyed David from that day on.

10 The next day a harmful spirit from God rushed upon Saul, and he raved within his house while David was playing the lyre, as he did day by day.  Saul had his spear in his hand. 11 And Saul hurled the spear, for he thought, “I will pin David to the wall.” But David evaded him twice.

The people sang the praises of David.  “Saul has struck down his thousands, and David his ten thousands.”  Even our English translations capture the meaning of the original Hebrew: David had risen to a position of obvious superiority—and obvious popularity.  Earlier, Saul had seen David as an opportunity, a chance to further his empire.  Now, he saw only a threat to his position.

THE TRUE AND BETTER KING

Do you see the contrast in responses to David?  Jonathan and Saul form mirror images to the way God’s people might respond to God’s chosen King.  Saul responded in jealousy and anger.  Jonathan responded in sacrificial love.

The truth is, most of us would prefer to be the king of our own worlds.  We become angry at anything that threatens our own sovereignty—which is partly why we feel threatened when we compare our happiness to that of others.  Christianity demands that we align our hearts with that of God’s, and that means we have to abdicate our thrones to the true King, Jesus.

Therefore, we will respond to Jesus as either a “Jonathan” or a “Saul.”  If I am accustomed to living life my way, then like Saul I will become enraged at the demands Christ places on me to follow him, to love my neighbor, to forgive others, etc.  But if I recognize the supreme value and authority Christ possesses, then like Jonathan I strip myself of my delusions of grandeur.  I lay my soul bare before him.  I express only gratitude and devotion.

Most of us will have days when we waver between these two reactions.  But over time we will become more accustomed to devoting ourselves to God’s true King, Jesus.  You may crown him as Lord, or condemn his intrusion.  But in either case, he cannot be ignored.  How will you respond?

Your Goliath is too Small (1 Samuel 17:32-54)

The stage had been set.  David—at this point only a 17 year old shepherd boy—had vowed to face the mighty warrior Goliath.

David said to Saul, “Let no man’s heart fail because of him. Your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” 33And Saul said to David, “You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him, for you are but a youth, and he has been a man of war from his youth.” 34But David said to Saul, “Your servant used to keep sheep for his father. And when there came a lion, or a bear, and took a lamb from the flock, 35 I went after him and struck him and delivered it out of his mouth. And if he arose against me, I caught him by his beard and struck him and killed him. 36Your servant has struck down both lions and bears, and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, for he has defied the armies of the living God.” 37And David said, “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.” And Saul said to David, “Go, and the LORD be with you!” 38Then Saul clothed David with his armor. He put a helmet of bronze on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail, 39and David strapped his sword over his armor. And he tried in vain to go, for he had not tested them. Then David said to Saul, “I cannot go with these, for I have not tested them.” So David put them off. 40Then he took his staff in his hand and chose five smooth stones from the brook and put them in his shepherd’s pouch. His sling was in his hand, and he approached the Philistine.

All along, God had been preparing David for this encounter—though in not quite the same way as boot camp.  As a shepherd, he’d spent time in the wilderness, perfecting his skill at keeping animals at bay.  This included some experience using a slingshot.

Do you remember the old movie Karate Kid?  The film featured Ralph Macchio, playing a young man determined to learn karate to beat the Cobra Kai.  He goes to Mr. Miyagi for training.  What does the old man have him do?  Wax the car.  “Wax on; wax off.”  Paint the fence.  Sand the floor.  Finally the kid snaps and confronts his mentor.  It’s then that Mr. Miyagi shows him the real import of “wax on; wax off.”  The repetitive motions he’d been making during all this manual labor?  They became the basis for defensive karate moves.  Waxing the car hadn’t been some arbitrary stunt; it had been a vital part of a warrior’s preparation.

David was no different.  God had used his past to prepare him for his future.  So much so that David declines the armor from Saul—weighty and a few sizes too big.  He faces Goliath instead with a bag full of rocks and a heart full of faith.

41And the Philistine moved forward and came near to David, with his shield-bearer in front of him. 42And when the Philistine looked and saw David, he disdained him, for he was but a youth, ruddy and handsome in appearance. 43And the Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. 44The Philistine said to David, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the beasts of the field.” 45Then David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. 46This day the LORD will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head. And I will give the dead bodies of the host of the Philistines this day to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, 47and that all this assembly may know that the LORD saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give you into our hand.”

48When the Philistine arose and came and drew near to meet David, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine. 49And David put his hand in his bag and took out a stone and slung it and struck the Philistine on his forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell on his face to the ground.

50So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and struck the Philistine and killed him. There was no sword in the hand of David. 51Then David ran and stood over the Philistine and took his sword and drew it out of its sheath and killed him and cut off his head with it. When the Philistines saw that their champion was dead, they fled. 52And the men of Israel and Judah rose with a shout and pursued the Philistines as far as Gath and the gates of Ekron, so that the wounded Philistines fell on the way from Shaaraim as far as Gath and Ekron. 53And the people of Israel came back from chasing the Philistines, and they plundered their camp. 54And David took the head of the Philistine and brought it to Jerusalem, but he put his armor in his tent.

David slew the giant not with sling, sword, and stone, but with confidence in what God could accomplish through him.

Here’s the danger: all my life I’ve heard this taught as an example of how you and I can “face our giants.”  That if we have the “five smooth stones” of faith then we can conquer our fears, conquer our temptations, emerge from our struggles victoriously.  So whether our “giants” are addictive behaviors, sexual temptation, prolonged suffering, childlessness, singleness, we have only to “stand and fight.”  Pray more, read the Bible more—you know, be a “better Christian.”  That actually preaches really well.  But there’s just one problem: you’re not David.  You can stand and face your struggles all you want, you can throw as many rocks as you’d like.  But you’ll miss every time.  Why?  First of all, David occupied a position you and I do not.  He was God’s chosen leader over Israel.  Perhaps you and I aren’t empowered to fulfill this same destiny.

But there’s another key issue.  Your Goliath is too small.  So long as we see our problem as merely an issue of circumstance—of singleness, of suffering—we miss the real Goliath that roams the horizon.

If we search the pages of scripture, we find a powerful theme of conflict that runs through the great narrative.  Peter, for example, tells his readers to “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).  Years earlier, Isaiah had predicted that God’s true servant would “swallow up death forever; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth” (Isaiah 25:8).  There is a greater Goliath.  He bears the names of sin, Satan, and death.  None of us can face these adversaries on our own.  We need a true and better champion.  We need Jesus.

Paul tells us that on the cross Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him” (Colossians 2:15).  So prominent was this theme in early Christendom it got its own Latin name: Christus victor—literally “Christ the victor.”

Therefore Jesus is the true and better David, who slays the greater Goliath of sin, suffering, and death.  And his victory has been imputed to our account—that is, by following Jesus we, too experience victory over sin and death.  But if that’s true, why do we still hurt?  If you’ll pardon the allegory, it’s because while the giant has been struck dead, we still wait for him to fall.  And so as we follow Jesus, Goliath’s shadow falls on our shoulders—but his spear can never touch us.  Goliath looms on the horizon—but his sword can never cut our flesh.  The gospel assures us there will be a day when even death itself will be “swallowed in victory” (1 Corinthians 15:54).  And until that day we wait for the giant to topple, we wait for God’s Kingdom to triumph.

Fall Goliath, Fall.

Facing the Giants (1 Samuel 17:1-31)

Every heart is a battlefield, and every lifetime a war.  The story of David and Goliath has become so familiar as to provoke disinterest, but in truth the story tells us everything about the way we handle life’s inevitable conflicts.  If we peel back the layers of our own modern “twists” on this ancient story, we find a fascinating story that initially smells of fear yet in the end screams of victory.

1Now the Philistines gathered their armies for battle. And they were gathered at Socoh, which belongs to Judah, and encamped between Socoh and Azekah, in Ephes-dammim. 2And Saul and the men of Israel were gathered, and encamped in the Valley of Elah, and drew up in line of battle against the Philistines. 3And the Philistines stood on the mountain on the one side, and Israel stood on the mountain on the other side, with a valley between them. 4And there came out from the camp of the Philistines a champion named Goliath of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. 5He had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail, and the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. 6And he had bronze armor on his legs, and a javelin of bronze slung between his shoulders. 7The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron. And his shield-bearer went before him. 8He stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me. 9If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants. But if I prevail against him and kill him, then you shall be our servants and serve us.” 10And the Philistine said, “I defy the ranks of Israel this day. Give me a man, that we may fight together.” 11When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid.

What’s going on here?  The ancient world observed a practice known as ish habbenaym—literally “the man between two.”  A battle would begin with a one-on-one battle between two chosen “champions.”  Why?  Because the ancient world saw their victory as not merely their own, but the blessing (or judgment!) of their respective God/gods.  The winner of this initial “grudge match” would have an enormous impact on troop morale—which helps us understand why armies would actually turn and flee if their champion was defeated.

Goliath was one such champion.  Later Hebrew manuscripts tell us that he was “four cubits and a span,” making him over 6 feet tall.  But earlier Hebrew manuscripts tell us that he was “six cubits and a span,” making him somewhere between nine feet and nine foot nine.  His armor alone weighed roughly 150 lbs—the head of his spear weighed an additional 15.  And notice the blend of bronze and iron weaponry.  Historians have been quick to note that Goliath’s armament was a blend of a variety of different cultures, which only serves to highlight Goliath’s backstory.  His impressive height, his array of weaponry—this was a hired gun.  He had probably traveled extensively, sort of a mercenary hired out to win battles.  He’d killed before—probably many times.  And judging by his raucous speech, he truly had come to believe himself untouchable.

The irony?  There truly was one man in Israel “head and shoulders” above the rest.  Saul.  Of all the people in Israel, this would have been the man you’d expect to face the giant.   But no.  The text is clear: Saul was no different than the rest of the men: weak in the knees, weak in the heart, weak in the soul.

The truth is, most of us will never face physical combat.  But we each have a giant that looms over us on the horizon.  For some, it’s a Goliath of temptation.  For others, it’s a Goliath of trials and suffering.  For all, it’s a Goliath that presses us toward the question: Is God in this? 

While Saul was the most likely candidate for a warrior, the true warrior would come through David.   Now mind you, roughly five years had passed since David’s anointing.  He was now a 17 year old boy—yet despite his anointing he remained a shepherd until his time of succession.  When he arrives at the battlefield, he comes not as a soldier, but as a delivery boy.

 12Now David was the son of an Ephrathite of Bethlehem in Judah, named Jesse, who had eight sons. In the days of Saul the man was already old and advanced in years. 13The three oldest sons of Jesse had followed Saul to the battle. And the names of his three sons who went to the battle were Eliab the firstborn, and next to him Abinadab, and the third Shammah. 14David was the youngest. The three eldest followed Saul, 15but David went back and forth from Saul to feed his father’s sheep at Bethlehem. 16For forty days the Philistine came forward and took his stand, morning and evening.

 17And Jesse said to David his son, “Take for your brothers an ephah of this parched grain, and these ten loaves, and carry them quickly to the camp to your brothers. 18Also take these ten cheeses to the commander of their thousand. See if your brothers are well, and bring some token from them.” 19Now Saul and they and all the men of Israel were in the valley of Elah, fighting with the Philistines.

 20And David rose early in the morning and left the sheep with a keeper and took the provisions and went, as Jesse had commanded him. And he came to the encampment as the host was going out to the battle line, shouting the war cry. 21And Israel and the Philistines drew up for battle, army against army. 22And David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage and ran to the ranks and went and greeted his brothers. 23As he talked with them, behold, the champion, the Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, came up out of the ranks of the Philistines and spoke the same words as before. And David heard him.

 24All the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him and were much afraid. 25And the men of Israel said, “Have you seen this man who has come up? Surely he has come up to defy Israel. And the king will enrich the man who kills him with great riches and will give him his daughter and make his father’s house free in Israel.”

 26And David said to the men who stood by him, “What shall be done for the man who kills this Philistine and takes away the reproach from Israel? For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?” 27And the people answered him in the same way, “So shall it be done to the man who kills him.”

 28Now Eliab his eldest brother heard when he spoke to the men. And Eliab’s anger was kindled against David, and he said, “Why have you come down? And with whom have you left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know your presumption and the evil of your heart, for you have come down to see the battle.” 29And David said, “What have I done now? Was it not but a word?” 30And he turned away from him toward another, and spoke in the same way, and the people answered him again as before.

 31When the words that David spoke were heard, they repeated them before Saul, and he sent for him.

Once again we see a contrast.  Two men.  Two kings.  Saul hid in fear.  David stood in faith.  The truth is most of us are more like Saul than David.  When trouble looms ahead, I’d much rather hide—sink myself into career, into entertainment, into hobbies, even sin.  Men especially can flee from their responsibilities as men.  How?  Video games—whose players extend well beyond teenagers these days—give me a false sense of accomplishment.  Pornography grants me a false sense of intimacy.  Why focus on being productive when I have Call of Duty?  Why focus on marriage when I have an internet connection and no one’s watching?

It takes a man like David to step up in faith and say that I’m willing to do the unthinkable, and with God accomplish the impossible.  And if our faith is placed in God alone, then we are reminded that it is not the purity of our faith that saves us—it is the object of our faith.  Your impossible circumstances may only be a matter of perception.  Are you focusing on the problem, or are you focusing on the Solution?

We need to give a “to be continued” today.  Tomorrow we’ll come back and finish this story of David and Goliath, to answer how Jesus is the true and better David.

A True Story (John 20:30-31; 3:9-15)

John was Jesus’ closest disciple. For him, Jesus was a teacher, a leader, a best friend. But most significantly, Jesus was the Son of God. The Roman postal system was highly advanced, allowing early Christians to distribute information with surprising speed—what one scholar calls the “Holy internet.” This meant that stories of Jesus had spread rapidly, though their meaning had yet to catch up. Peter and Paul had tended Christianity’s fragile soil, but both men would die before seeing it blossom. In John’s own city of Ephesus, Christians were limited to the traditions of John the Baptist (Acts 18:25). Caught between a fading past and an uncertain future, the need arose to record not only the facts of history, but also their significance.

“Jesus performed other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples…But these are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” (John 20:30-31)

John’s message is therefore uniquely suited to a culture like our own. For the first time in recent memory, Western society has re-emerged as a mission field. In the modern world, scholars sought to reconcile a Biblical “Christ of faith” with the so-called “Christ of history.” The gospels’ supernatural elements proved too much to accept, and so scholars such as Gotthold Lessing found themselves standing at the edge of an “ugly broad ditch,” unable to make a “leap” of faith. But today’s postmodern world is vastly different. We’ve crossed Lessing’s ditch only to find ourselves standing in a hall of mirrors. If the modern world was asking: “Should I believe in Jesus or not?” the postmodern world asks: “What kind of Jesus should I believe in?”

John’s purpose, therefore, doesn’t leave this question up to the individual, but anchors it in objective history. To read the Bible, therefore, is to surrender our expectations of who we think Jesus is, and to worship him as he actually was.

A STORYTELLING GOD

In John 3, we see this through the eyes of an elderly preacher. Earlier, Jesus had attracted attention by overturning the tables in the Jewish temple, a symbolic gesture that rang out with a singular message: The Messiah is here. Jesus’ arrival had been less an act of worship than an act of arson. Yet Nicodemus had yet to sift the gospel’s brilliance from the ashes of dead tradition. He comes to Jesus expecting another Rabbi, another scholarly debate. Jesus’ response lays him flat. You must be born again.

Yet Nicodemus fails to comprehend this message. His teeth chip on the stark literalness of it; he can’t digest the underlying meaning.

Nicodemus replied, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you don’t understand these things? I tell you the solemn truth, we speak about what we know and testify about what we have seen, but you people do not accept our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you don’t believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven—the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” (John 3:9-15)

In 2005’s V for Vendetta, Stephen Rea portrays a government inspector seeking to unravel a massive conspiracy. As he closes the gap between himself and the truth, he connects with a mysterious informant. “I believe you have some information for me,” he says. “No inspector,” the informant replies. “You have all the information already. All the facts are inside your head. What you want—what you really need—is a story.” Nicodemus didn’t need another sermon or debate. His head already contained more Sunday School lessons than anyone else in Israel. No; what he needed was a story, some means of bringing these plot points into a cohesive whole.

Jesus tells him the story of the snakes in the wilderness. Israel, during her years of wandering, fell victim to a plague of poisonous snakes. To deepen the nation’s trust, God has Moses craft a bronze serpent and attach it to his staff. If you were bitten, you had only to look at this staff and be cured. What is Jesus saying? He’s saying that there’s something deep within us—something dark and venomous—that can’t be cured by altering our behavior. In other words, Jesus says, You’ve been thinking of sin all wrong. Origen, a writer from the earliest days of the church, said that “everyone who enters the world may be said to be affected by a kind of contamination.” Our hearts are darkly flawed and profoundly selfish—just ask anyone who’s ever worked retail. Altering behavior may serve to bandage sin’s wounds, but it’s the poison that’ll kill us.

Do you see now the necessity of rebirth? Like wine stains on carpet, you don’t need spot remover; you need a time machine. Religion may conceal my past, but only the gospel promises forgiveness and transformation.

With all the wildness of the wind, the gospel takes the human heart by storm. When Jesus is “lifted up”—that is, exalted in his death and resurrection—he draws the poison from our hearts and replaces it with the pure “water” of his Spirit. And into man’s heart, God speaks a wisdom unsearchable, a love unthinkable, a grace incalculable, and a mercy unending. It’s no wonder, then, that Luther once wrote that “the cross alone is our theology.” For there is no other answer, no other remedy for the human condition, save for the cross of Christ. In the first exodus, Moses lifted up his staff. In Jesus’ new exodus, he lifts up himself. In his humiliation, he is exalted. In his death, life flows free.

 

Itching ears, greedy stomach (2 Timothy 4:1-8)

Your average preacher is the spiritual equivalent of the TV weatherman.  He pays enormously for an academic education, then he gets put in front of an audience that expects him to be entertaining—and gets furious when he tells them something they don’t want to hear. 

Paul understood this.  This is why he tells the young pastor Timothy to press in, because times are tough and there will always be rivals.  In his letter to this young pastor, Paul writes:

 I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: 2 preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.3 For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, 4 and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. 5 As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.

What was the danger?  Paul knew that Timothy would face an era where people turned from God’s truth to instead embrace a seductive lie.  Itching ears?  By that he meant that sometimes our “felt” needs outstrip our deeper, spiritual needs. 

I hope you recognize that this danger is no less real today.  Go into any bookstore—even the Christian bookstore—and you’ll be confronted by a wall of self-help teachers that offer advice on finance, dating, weight loss, and anything else you can conceivably think of as leading to personal happiness and fulfillment.  With itching ears and greedy stomachs, modern day Christians have unrepentantly devoted themselves to a curious blend of spiritual platitudes and consumerist delight. 

Why is this so dangerous?  Doesn’t God want me to be happy?  But that question only assumes that my deepest problem is unhappiness.  If my deepest problem is financial, then financial planning is my surest savior.  If my problem is singleness, then dating advice becomes my gospel.  If my deepest problem is low self-esteem, then a self-help manual works wonders.  But the gospel says that my deepest problem isn’t a lack of personal fulfillment, but the excess of personal fulfillment.  What the Bible calls “sin” is a form of self-indulgence, self-interest, self-absorption.  And the only true remedy for that is the gospel. 

You see, the greatest problem within the walls of today’s church is that we’ve assumed the gospel to be elementary when it should be elemental.  We’ve assumed that the God has saved us from hell, but fail to recognize the ways he has saved us for new life.  And when we minimize that, we’re left to thrive on the petty dalliances of consumerist religion.  What today’s church needs is not a change in her substance, but a return to it.  To refocus our eyes on the beauty of Jesus and his message of forgiveness and transformation.   To realize that when—not if—we fully understand the exhilarating, electrifying joy that comes from knowing Christ, that our so-called needs and “itching ears” will seem trivial by comparison. 

Paul’s letter to Timothy was the last that would appear in the New Testament—and most likely his final before being killed in Rome.   Paul faced this inevitability with courage, with conviction, and with words of encouragement for the rough road ahead:

6 For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. 7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.

If we care deeply about others, it naturally means caring less about self.  Often people struggle to find a church that “meets my needs.”  But such an approach treats faith as if it were a series of projects, self-improvement schemes with Jesus as the means and self as the end.  But Christianity says that religion isn’t something that you can master; religion is something that must master you.  And so if the gospel is true, I find hope and purpose and joy in Christ alone—and not the cares of my earthly appetite and itching ears. 

 

Loving the Same Old Thing (Jude 17-25)

We inhabit a world drunk on its own sense of progress.  We believe that the latest is—almost by necessity—superior to what came before.  The line for the latest iPhone or technological gadget testifies not merely to our desire to ride the wave of the latest trends, but also our fears of being left in the lurch when the wave passes us by.  And the same applies to questions of morality.  Our world is on an unending quest to remain on the cutting edge of moral debate.  After all, our modern-day prophets insist, no one wants to be left on the “wrong side of history.” 

The argument, of course, is that when Christians cling to Biblical values, they do so at the expense of the forward march of human progress.  Christian values are sneered at as “behind the times”—outdated, unrealistic, unnecessary. 

In Jude’s day, the church was confronted—nay, surrounded—by those who insisted that the latest ideas were the right ones.  Something called Gnosticism was on the rise—a belief system that stressed personal spirituality while downplaying the significance of life in the here and now.  To focus on the world around us…well, that must have seemed crude and backward to a people that was increasingly infatuated with elevated, spiritual language. 

But you must remember, beloved, the predictions of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ. 18 They said to you, “In the last time there will be scoffers, following their own ungodly passions.” 19 It is these who cause divisions, worldly people, devoid of the Spirit. 

Jude reminds his readers that while they have good reason to be sad, they’ve no reason to be surprised.  There will always be those who live in ways that contradict Biblical values.  And in today’s world, we see this in the continual march of progress. 

In his book called Heresy, Oxford professor Alister McGrath writes that when he surveys all of the false teachings within Christianity, he finds as a common thread the desire for novelty, a yearning to break free from what came before.  C.S.  Lewis alludes to this same principle in his novel The Screwtape Letters, wherein he satirizes the ways that Satan tries to control God’s people:

“What we want, if men become Christians at all, is to keep them in the state of mind I call ‘Christianity And’…If they must be Christians let them be Christians with a difference.  Substitute for the faith itself some Fashion with a Christian coloring.  Work on their horror of the Same Old Thing. 

The horror of the Same Old Thing is one of the most valuable passions we have produced in the human heart – an endless source of heresies in religion, folly in counsel, infidelity in marriage, and inconstancy in friendship.” (C.S. Lewis The Screwtape Letters p. 135)

In other words, the myth of progress is really nothing more than curiosity run amuck.  For what are we really saying?  Are we really willing to say that our understanding of morality is evolving?  Because such an evolutionary view would mean that our culture today is superior to our culture of yesterday—and are we really so willing to say that one culture is superior to another?  Wouldn’t that simply smack of the same arrogance that Christians are allegedly guilty of?  But of course, such arguments dissipate into the ether of a world where feeling has become believing, and discourse has been relegated to the level of emotion rather than reason.

Perhaps it’s fitting that Jude focuses on encouraging his readers to remain strong.

20 But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, 21 keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. 22 And have mercy on those who doubt; 23 save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh  24 Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy,25 to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord,  be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.

If we follow Jesus, we need to expect that things will go badly.  We follow a man who divided more than he united.  He eventually died—through God’s plan, yes, but instrumentally through the hands of a people who’d had enough.  His closest followers would share in these sufferings.  Martyrdom became the seeds by which the early church would flourish.  And if we follow Jesus today, we do so by cultivating a deep and abiding passion for the “same old thing.”  I love the old hymn writer who sang,

“I love to tell the story
for those who know it best
seem  hungering and thirsting
to hear it like the rest.” 

What else is there apart from the gospel?  May we never get bored with the message of God’s love, of Christ’s sacrifice, of the Spirit’s guidance.