Now it came to pass one day that Jonathan the son of Saul said to the young man that bore his armour, Come and let us go over to the Philistines' garrison which is on the other side. But he did not tell his father.
Israel was under Philistine power, and the king sat still with six hundred men. Then one man set out for the enemy outpost with no orders and no army, telling only the young man who carried his weapons.
Jonathan's move begins not with strategy but with distress. One writer traces the whole action back to what the sight of a defeated Israel does to a believing heart:
It is hard for faith to endure the afflictions of God's people, and the dishonour done to God Himself in them. Jonathan does not endure it. He has faith in the God of Israel, and he makes up his mind to attack the Philistines... The sin of the people of God may have put them under the power of the "uncircumcised." But this cannot put down the rights of God. Such is faith's reasoning. And nothing is more simple.
The ground argued against the plan, and so did the numbers:
Jonathan was distressed by the condition of things in Israel. We have no doubt that prayer lay behind it. One day he said to his armour-bearer, "Come, let us go over to the Philistine garrison on the other side." It was a step of faith. Two men with only one sword between them, marching out to attack a powerful enemy! Their camp sat on rocky heights that were almost impossible to climb.
The verse ends with a gap: Jonathan spoke, but not to the king.
This was certainly bold; "but he did not tell his father." No — Saul had his own nature, which led him to keep silent, but Jonathan had faith. There was One to whom he did tell it; but it was not his father. The whole history shows he was dutiful right to the end of his life. That only makes his silence here more striking.
Others put it plainly: asking a man with no faith would have stopped the plan.
There was no real wish to hide anything, but men who have no faith themselves are apt to discourage and hinder those who have. David would certainly never have gone down into the Valley of Elah if he had listened to Saul (1 Sam. 17:33). The unnamed armour-bearer was a lowly soul. If he shared the same faith, his help was worth more than the approval and backing of a king who had no faith at all.
The same writer applies this to us:
One way we fail again and again is in asking advice from people who do not have the faith or the light we have ourselves. We sink down to their level.
Jonathan was silent toward Saul, but he was not alone:
How rare a thing is hearty fellowship in the enterprises of faith! Jonathan enjoyed this priceless blessing in his armour-bearer. The man answered his master: "Do all that is in your heart; turn, behold I am with you according to your heart." Faith can open all its thoughts to such a soul. So Jonathan tells his armour-bearer how he plans to proceed.
Jonathan walked away from Saul's camp, but not away from Israel:
By acting on his own he separates himself from the political and religious world. He is separate from the religious world, because the priest, the ark, the ephod, and the altar were with Saul. But faith has God's secret, which Saul, the priest and the people do not have... On the other hand, he associates himself in thought and in all his actions with Israel. Saul appealed to the "Hebrews"; Jonathan says, "The LORD has delivered them into the hand of Israel."
The men left behind with Saul were not shut out of the blessing — only from the credit:
For a moment we see Saul and his six hundred, as Jonathan turns his back on them... With the priest is the ephod, whose whole purpose is communication with the LORD, but there is none. None of the people even know that Jonathan has gone away. Victory may be gained for these, not by them. They may later walk in a path that others have opened; open it they cannot.
- Distress starts it. Jonathan does not plan a campaign. He cannot bear the dishonour done to God in His defeated people. That is where faith's reasoning begins.
- Silence guards it. "He did not tell his father" is not disloyalty — he told God instead. Faith that talks its plans over with unbelief usually stops there.
- Fellowship carries it. One armour-bearer with the same heart is worth more than a king with an ephod and no faith.
- Separation frees it. Leaving the camp where all the religious forms sat idle was the very thing that left Jonathan free to act.
- Others gain by it. Jonathan says the LORD delivered the enemy to Israel, not to himself. The six hundred could not open the path, but they could still walk in it.
And Saul abode at the extreme end of Gibeah under the pomegranate-tree which [was] in Migron; and the people that were with him were about six hundred men.
Jonathan has just moved against the Philistine garrison. Before the rout that follows, Scripture stops to show us where the king was: at the edge of things, with a shrinking band of men, while God won Israel's battle without him. The question this verse raises is not military but spiritual. Why does the man with the crown, and the priest at his side, add nothing to the day's victory?
Everything about Saul's setting looks royal, and none of it does anything.
This beautiful chapter sets up a striking contrast between how well Israel's own plan works and how well the old principle of simple faith in God works. Saul sits under a pomegranate tree, putting on empty show with no real power. Jonathan acts in the spirit of faith, and God makes him the glad instrument of saving Israel.
Saul is not simply resting. He shows up only once the danger has passed.
With all this, he had no courage for the Lord's cause when the test came. He makes a stir and a great deal of fuss with his six hundred men behind him at Gilgal. But follow him to Gibeah, where the battle was about to begin, and he stays at the far edge under a pomegranate tree. We never see him in the field until the day is won. He rages after the fight, but strikes no blow in it.
The place name here, and the priest's family named in the next verse, carry their own meaning. One writer reads them as part of the same picture.
We see Saul and his six hundred for a moment as Jonathan turns his back on them. Saul lies under the pomegranate at Migron (the place of "overthrow"). Next to the failed king stands the head of the failed priesthood: Ahijah ("brother of Jah"), son of Ahitub ("brother of goodness"), but brother of Ichabod ("where is the glory?"), the monument of the sad history of Eli and his sons. With him is the ephod, which exists so that men can hear from the LORD, yet no word comes. None of the people even know that Jonathan has gone. God may win the victory for these men, but not by them. They may later walk in a path that others have opened. Open it they cannot.
One writer finds meaning even in the tree Saul sits under. (Older translations read "under a pomegranate tree" where the ESV has "the pomegranate cave.")
The pomegranate is a fruit full of seeds. It speaks of the great fruitfulness Israel will enjoy in the coming thousand years of blessing on earth. Does this not tell us that, as a picture, Saul was excusing his slackness now by falling back on the promise of the future? It is true that we should value God's promises of great blessing to come. But that should stir us to a living faith right now… Real faith does not excuse slackness, even though it may have to wait a while for God's leading.
Saul's six hundred look like too small a force for a battle. Numbers were never his real problem.
Even after men had deserted him, Saul still had six hundred men around him. Gideon had only half that number when he went out to attack the camp of Midian. David's band of heroes was only four hundred strong, but look at what they achieved.
Jonathan's silence toward his father was not mere secrecy. He had someone else to tell.
No. If Saul had a nature of his own that led him to keep quiet, Jonathan had faith. There was One he did tell, but it was not his father… "Saul was staying in the outskirts of Gibeah in the pomegranate cave at Migron. The people who were with him were about six hundred men." The secret of God is not with the king, nor with the priest. The people knew no more than either of them that Jonathan had gone.
- Position — Saul sits at the outskirts, not the front. He has royal display without power, while God's real work goes on elsewhere.
- Place — Migron means "the place of overthrow." The priest at his side comes from the family whose glory had already gone.
- Promise — The pomegranate points to future fruitfulness. Saul used the promise of a coming blessing as his excuse to do nothing now.
- Plenty — Six hundred men was never the problem. Gideon won with half that, and David worked with four hundred. The one thing missing was faith.
- Privacy — God's secret was not with the king, the priest, or the crowd. God could win the victory for such men, but never by them.
(And Ahijah the son of Ahitub, Ichabod's brother, the son of Phinehas, the son of Eli, Jehovah's priest in Shiloh, wore the ephod.) And the people did not know that Jonathan was gone.
The verse breaks off the battle story to list a priest's family line. Then it ends with one short line about what the army did not know. Both halves matter. The names show what religion stood beside Saul. The last line shows where God was working.
The book later calls this same man by another name. His family also stood under a sentence of judgment.
Verse 3 tells us that Ahiah (called Ahimelech in Chapter 22:9), the grandson of Eli, was priest at this time. Yet the priesthood was of no consequence to Saul, nor did Jonathan think of consulting the priest. The priesthood had regained no power since Eli's day. God had said that no descendant of Eli would live to be an old man. That word proved solemnly true here, when Saul had Ahimelech and other priests killed by Doeg the Edomite (ch. 22:18).
Each name in this family line has a meaning. Read them in order and they tell their own story.
We see Saul and his six hundred men for a moment as Jonathan turns his back on them. Saul lies under the pomegranate tree at Migron, the place of "overthrow." With the failed king stands the head of the failed priesthood: Ahijah ("brother of Jah"), son of Ahitub ("brother of goodness"), but the brother of Ichabod ("where is the glory?"). He is the monument of the sad history of Eli and his sons. With him is the ephod, meant for communication with the LORD, but there is no communication. And none of the people even know that Jonathan has gone.
The name Ichabod came out of Israel's worst day.
The name which the wife of Phinehas gave to her son, because the ark of God had been taken by the Philistines, and her father-in-law and her husband were dead. After naming her child she died also: "the glory had departed," as the name signifies.
The ephod was the priest's garment for asking God's mind. Its presence in camp looked like the presence of God.
Saul still waits at Gibeah, with his 600 men and with the priests. They seem to speak of the presence of God, but their names and family ties remind us of the time of priestly ruin under Eli. The glory had departed from Israel, and as far as these priests were concerned it had not returned... How important it is that faith does not take counsel with flesh and blood, and does not count on the slightest help from those who have only the name of priestly communion without the reality!
Saul's camp had everything religion could supply. One writer asks what that was worth.
Saul had the forms of religion about him. The LORD's priest was there, wearing an ephod, and the ark was not far away. But what is the value of forms if power is lacking?
Saul kept the religious forms running all through the chapter. Here is the list, and what came of it.
Notice also that all the forms of piety and of Jewish religion are with Saul; "the priest of the LORD in Shiloh (1 Sam. 14:3), wearing an ephod," and the ark (v. 18). He consults with the priest. He stops them eating flesh with the blood. He builds an altar. The priest consults God; and, God giving no answer, Saul is ready to kill Jonathan as guilty, because he had eaten despite the oath.
The last line of the verse divides the camp in two. The king and the priest were not in on God's secret.
The secret of God is not with the king nor with the priest. The people did not know that Jonathan was gone, any more than either of them did.
There was a reason Jonathan kept this to himself.
He did not tell his father (v. 1); and the people did not know that Jonathan was gone (v. 3). The path of faith is utter folly to the natural man. To discuss what faith plans with those who have no confidence in the Lord is to lose faith, and to make defeat certain.
- Family. Ahiah comes from Eli's line. The priesthood standing with Saul "had regained no power since Eli's day," and judgment on that house was still coming.
- Name. The verse marks him as Ichabod's brother — a living reminder that "the glory had departed," and that it had not come back.
- Form. The ephod was there for getting God's answer, "but there is none." The equipment outlived the presence it once served.
- Power. Saul kept every religious form — priest, ephod, ark, altar. But "what is the value of forms if power is lacking?"
- Secret. God's mind was not with the king or the priest. It was with one man who told nobody, because "the path of faith is utter folly to the natural man."
Now between the passes by which Jonathan sought to go over to the Philistines' garrison there was a sharp rock on the one side and a sharp rock on the other side; and the name of the one [was] Bozez, and the name of the other Seneh.
The story stops to describe the ground: two sharp rocks stand on either side of the pass Jonathan must cross. Why record the shape of a cliff face, and why name the rocks at all?
The pass at Michmash was real, hard ground. A Bible dictionary describes it:
City and mountain pass in the tribe of Benjamin. It was where Jonathan struck down the garrison of the Philistines... The valley is in one place nearly half a mile wide. Elsewhere it is a deep gorge with nearly vertical rock walls, caves and cracks. In the winter a deep and rapid torrent rushes through it.
Jonathan had to cross that ground with the enemy above him. One writer weighs the odds:
The Philistines hold a strong position among steep rocks. What could human energy achieve? Jonathan has to climb up on his hands and feet. The oppressors too are there in great numbers, and well armed. But faith with a single sword counts God enough.
The detail is not scenery. One writer says it is there for the reader:
The Spirit of God notices for our instruction the immense difficulties in the way.
Each rock blocked Jonathan in its own way, and the names say how:
The garrison of the Philistines is strongly dug in on an almost unreachable height, separated by a deep ravine from where Jonathan was. A sharp rock on either side of this ravine would block his approach to the enemy, unless he had the strength and courage to get over almost impassable obstacles. The names of these two rocks are given. Bozez means "shining." It would dazzle the eyes and prevent any rapid climbing, and its white, bare surface would very effectively prevent any hiding needed for a surprise attack. Seneh is the sharp slope down which he must descend before he can climb Bozez. It means "a thorn," which could easily pierce, and it plainly shows how extremely difficult his attempt was.
The two rocks were not alike. Which side each one faced mattered:
These details show that Jonathan's faith had no encouragement from circumstances. Verse 4 stresses this further with the two sharp rocks that stood on either side of the passage Jonathan chose. Bozez means "shining," pointing to the apparent shining triumph of the Philistines over Israel at this time. Seneh means "thorny," perhaps picturing Israel's suffering under the thorn-discipline of God. Bozez was northward on the Philistine side, so the southern sun would shine on its face. Seneh was on the south side, toward Israel's camp.
Another writer asks why Scripture bothers to name the two rocks at all:
These two points on opposite sides are mentioned, not just as markers of the place for later days, but with a deeper interest. Israel was indeed in the shadow of God's judgment then, and for that same reason their enemies were prospering. Such things have been difficulties in the path of many a Jonathan from that day to this. But there is a faith which can overcome everything, working through the love of a devoted heart. We find it in this son of Saul — plainly not through any help from nature there.
There is a reasonable case for staying put, and one writer states it before answering it:
It would seem like madness to try to scale these shining heights in the hope of driving out the proud enemy. All that can be linked with the attacking side is the barrenness, and even the apparent curse, suggested by the thorn. Has not God's hand permitted all this oppression? Does it not seem like resisting Him to resist the authority of those who have gained the upper hand over us under His correcting hand? But faith does not reason in this way, nor does it look at either thorns or brightness.
Faith takes a different measure of the same ground:
The sharp rocks of Bozez and Seneh raise their unclimbable peaks opposite Michmash and Gibeah. To faith they are nothing.
- Gorge — Michmash was a deep ravine with steep rock walls. Jonathan had to climb it on his hands and feet.
- Glare — Bozez, "shining," stood on the enemy's side and caught the sun. It pictures the dazzling success of the enemy.
- Thorn — Seneh, "thorny," stood on Israel's side. God's people lived under His correcting hand while their enemies prospered.
- Recorded — Scripture names both rocks on purpose, so every later reader sees what faith was up against.
- Nothing — glare and thorn are real, but faith weighs neither. It counts God enough, and the rocks that ruled out the attack did not stop Jonathan.
The one crag [formed] a pillar on the north opposite to Michmash, and the other on the south opposite to Geba.
Jonathan, Saul's son, set out to cross a ravine and attack the Philistine post. The two crags named here are the reason his plan looked impossible, and commentators ask what their names say about Israel's condition.
Things are as discouraging as possible for Jonathan. The Philistine garrison was dug in on a height that was almost impossible to reach. A deep ravine lay between it and where Jonathan stood. A sharp rock on each side of that ravine would block his approach to the enemy. Only strength and courage could carry him over obstacles that were almost impassable. The passage gives the names of these two rocks. Bozez means "shining." Its glare would dazzle the eyes and prevent any rapid climbing, and its white, bare surface would very effectively prevent the concealment an ambush needs. Seneh is the sharp slope he must go down before he can climb Bozez. Its name means "a thorn," something that can pierce easily, and it plainly shows how hard his task was.
The detail is not filler. One writer ties these rocks to Jonathan's faith, and tells us which camp lay on which side:
The account mentions these things to show that Jonathan's faith had no encouragement from circumstances. Verse 4 stresses the same thing with the two sharp rocks that stood on either side of the passage Jonathan chose. Bozez was northward on the Philistine side, so that the southern sun would shine on its face, while Seneh was on the south side, toward Israel's camp.
Another writer finds meaning in which rock lay in the sun and which in shadow:
These bold adventurers had plenty of difficulties in the steep cliffs hanging over their path. The record names two points on opposite sides. It surely does not name them as mere reminders of the place for later days, but with a deeper interest. One was called Bozez, from its "shining" surface. It stood on the north side, the side of the enemy's post, where the sun would fall full upon it. The other stood on Israel's side, and so lay in the dark. That one was called Seneh, the "thorn," the sign of the curse. Israel was indeed in the shadow of God's judgment then, and for this same reason their enemies were prospering. Such things have been difficulties in the path of many a Jonathan from that day to this. But there is a faith that can get over everything, working through the love of a devoted heart. We find it in this son of Saul, and clearly not from any help nature gave him there.
If God's own hand had put Israel in the shadow, a careful man might conclude that attacking meant fighting God. One writer raises that objection, then answers it:
The enemy sits well dug in on its rock, surrounded by bright, shining heights, both intellectual and material. It would seem like madness to try to scale these shining heights hoping to dislodge the proud enemy. The side that must make the attack has nothing but barrenness, and even the apparent curse that the thorn suggests. Is it not God's hand that has allowed all this oppression? And does it not seem like resisting Him, if we resist the authority of those who have gained the upper hand over us under His chastening hand? But faith does not reason this way, and it does not look at either thorns or brightness.
One writer sets Jonathan's confidence against the confidence of the flesh:
Where there is a single eye, there is always confidence in acting and not hesitation. The flesh may be confident, but its confidence is in self, and therefore it is only folly. Faith makes nothing of circumstances, because it makes God everything. The difficulties do not grow smaller; God fills the eye instead.
- Terrain. A deep ravine lay between Jonathan and the Philistine post, with a sharp rock on each side. The approach was almost impassable.
- Names. Bozez means "shining" and faced the enemy's side in full sun; Seneh means "thorn" and lay on Israel's side, in shadow.
- Meaning. The sunlit rock matched the Philistines' prosperity. The thorn, the sign of the curse, matched Israel in the shadow of God's judgment.
- Temptation. The thorn side suggests that resisting the oppressor means resisting God's own hand. Faith refuses that reasoning.
- Outcome. The difficulties never grew smaller. God filled Jonathan's eye instead, and faith made nothing of the crags.
And Jonathan said to the young man that bore his armour, Come, and let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised perhaps Jehovah will work for us; for there is no restraint to Jehovah to save by many or by few.
Israel's soldiers are hiding and deserting, and the Philistines hold the high ground. Jonathan slips away with only his armour-bearer, and what he says as he goes has become one of the great statements of faith in the Bible.
The ground itself was against Jonathan. None of it counted with him.
The Philistines held a strong position among steep rocks: what could human energy do there? Jonathan has to climb up on his hands and feet (v. 13). The oppressors are there too in great numbers, and well armed. But faith with a single sword counts God enough. The enemy may be as many as the sand on the seashore: that is nothing — and faith knows it. He can give strength to one sword to subdue a host.
Jonathan never names his enemies by their nation. He labels them by what they lack — the mark that showed a person belonged to God's covenant people. Where the ESV has "the LORD," older Bibles print God's covenant name as "Jehovah."
To Jonathan the Philistines were simply "these uncircumcised" — that is, men not in relationship with God. Their numbers and skill did not matter. Israel, on the other hand, was in relationship with God. That is why Jonathan says the covenant name "Jehovah" twice. So faith in Jonathan could see no difficulty. If God was not with the Philistines, they had no real power. And if God was indeed with Israel, then almighty power was at hand, if only there was faith to use it.
Israel at that moment was in a shameful state, hiding and deserting. Jonathan's confidence did not depend on that changing.
He trusts in God, and in His unfailing faithfulness towards His people. His heart rests in this. He never imagines for a moment that God is not with His people, whatever their condition may be. This is what marks faith. It not only acknowledges that God is great. It also recognises the bond between God and His people — a bond nothing can break, because God Himself made it. The result is that faith forgets circumstances, or rather cancels them.
Commentators differ over these three words. Some read them as a real limit on Jonathan's certainty, a man sure of God's power but not yet of God's plan.
He has no clear command and no open call to do this. He reasons it out — but from what faith supplies, and out of the depths of his own self-sacrificing love for the people of God, a love that lets him enter into God's own love. At first he does not speak with complete assurance of success. He says, "It may be that the LORD will work for us." He knows God's heart better than he knows God's mind. His assurance grows as he goes on, and he is willing to take a risk when the risk is all his own.
Others hear no wavering in the phrase, only a man leaving the outcome with God.
His courage came not from presumption, but from dependence on God and confidence in Him. The words "it may be" do not mean he had a doubt in his mind. They mean he was completely subject to the will of God. He was sure that God was able, and that He would deliver His people for the glory of His own great Name.
Jonathan does not argue his armour-bearer into it. He says what he believes, and the man goes with him.
Genuine faith speaks with simplicity, and God uses it to act on the souls of others, as here on the armour-bearer. … There is thus not only the courage of faith, but also the counting on God.
The principle Jonathan states is not that God prefers small numbers, but that numbers are not the deciding factor at all.
He goes up against the Philistines in the power of that word, "There is no restraint with the Lord to save by many or by few." It was "the Lord" who filled his soul, and having Him, "many or few" made no difference. Faith does not reckon on circumstances, but on God.
We must not despise numbers. Pride may lurk in the hearts of a few, as well as among the many. The strength of Jonathan and his armour-bearer was not in themselves. Their faith laid hold on God. Apart from that they were as feeble as any of these fugitives. And those fugitives can in their turn be Jonathans, if they only lay hold of the same One who worked that day.
The same principle reaches beyond Jonathan's battle.
When he says the Lord will save by many or by few, he is right in line with the mind of God, who purposed to do a much greater work by One alone — and that One His own Son.
- Faith sees. Jonathan measures the enemy by relationship, not by weapons. They are "the uncircumcised" — men with no tie to God — so their strength is unreal.
- Faith rests. It rests on the unbreakable bond between God and His people. That bond holds even when His people are in a shameful state.
- Faith ventures. "It may be" leaves the outcome with God. Commentators differ on whether it shows limited certainty or full submission.
- Faith spreads. Spoken simply, it moved the one man who heard it, and courage plus counting on God went up the rock together.
- Faith wins. Many or few makes no difference to the Lord. The same God is open to the frightened deserters as to the two who climbed.
And his armour-bearer said to him, Do all that is in thy heart; turn thee; behold, I am with thee according to thy heart.
Jonathan moved against the Philistine outpost with only one companion: the young man who carried his weapons. That young man's answer put him fully at his master's side — so how do two hearts come to agree like that?
Jonathan did not argue his companion into agreement. He said what he believed about God. One writer notes what such plain speech does to a listener.
Genuine faith speaks simply. God uses it to work on the souls of others, as He does here on the armour-bearer.
The answer that comes back is more than obedience to a superior officer. Another writer calls that answer noble. He hears faith answering faith, and adds a rule: two people walk together only when they agree.
How noble is the response of the nameless armour-bearer! "Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?" Here is faith answering faith, and growing by it.
The armour-bearer's answer opens the way for Jonathan to share his whole plan. One writer calls this kind of fellowship rare and precious. The writers quote an older translation of the verse: where the ESV has "Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you heart and soul," the older wording runs "turn; behold, I am with you according to your heart."
How rare a thing is hearty fellowship in the enterprises of faith! Jonathan had this priceless blessing in his armour-bearer, who answered his master: "I am with you according to your heart." To a soul like that, faith can share all its thoughts. So Jonathan told his armour-bearer how he meant to proceed.
Scripture never tells us who this servant was. It does tell us what he knew about the man he followed. One writer dwells on that knowledge.
Let us not forget Jonathan's companion. His faith joins with the faith of his leader, and he knows his leader's love for the Lord and for His people. His master's devotion is enough for this single-hearted man. It takes the place of all reasoning for him. Are not his words lovely: "I am with you according to your heart"?
Saul had the priest, the ark and the outward trappings of religion close at hand. Jonathan had one young man carrying his weapons. A writer weighs the two and does not hesitate.
Men who have no faith themselves are apt to discourage and hinder those who have. David would never have gone down into the Valley of Elah if he had listened to Saul (1 Sam. 17:33). It was better to work with a lowly soul like the unnamed armour-bearer, if he had the same faith, than to have the backing of a king with no faith at all. Saul had the outward forms of religion about him. The Lord's priest was there, wearing an ephod, and the ark was not far away. But what is the value of forms if power is lacking? The history of the Christian world, past and present, is answer enough.
Later in the same chapter Saul proposes a night pursuit and his men tell him to do whatever seems good to him. The wording is close to the armour-bearer's; the spirit behind it is not.
Saul turns bold once he knows the Philistines are beaten. He then suggests chasing them by night, to finish what his senseless ban had stopped. The people were not enthusiastic, telling him to do what seemed good to him. Their words were nothing like those of Jonathan's armour-bearer in verse 7: "I am with you according to your heart." Here the priest seemed doubtful, and suggested that they ask God.
- Heart spoken. Jonathan says what he believes about God. Genuine faith speaks simply, and God uses it to reach others.
- Heart answered. The armour-bearer answers faith with faith. That faith grows through the contact, since two walk together only when they agree.
- Heart known. He knows his leader's love for the Lord and for God's people. That knowledge takes the place of all reasoning for him.
- Heart trusted. Such agreement is rare, and it buys something precious: to a companion like this, faith can open all its plans.
- Heart tested. One unnamed man with the same faith is worth more than a king with priest and ark but no power. Later, Saul's men said much the same words, but their hearts were not in it.
Then said Jonathan, Behold, we will pass over to the men, and we will shew ourselves to them.
Jonathan and his armour-bearer have left the camp in secret. The Philistine outpost stands above them, with two rocky crags in between. Before a blow is struck, Jonathan announces the plan: they will cross over and let the enemy see them. How does faith move when it has no army, no cover, and no orders from the king?
Jonathan's plan has no ambush in it. He proposes to walk out where the enemy can count him.
Faith does not hide. It is not afraid to show itself or to reveal its plans: "Behold, we will cross over to the men, and we will show ourselves to them." The world sees such boldness as pure recklessness. Yet Jonathan is careful to avoid a path of self-will, and looks for a sign to show him the will of God. "This shall be the sign to us" (v. 10).
Jonathan says the plan aloud, but only to one listener. His armour-bearer had already promised to go with him.
How rare hearty fellowship is in the ventures of faith! Jonathan had this priceless blessing in his armour-bearer. He answered his master: "Do all that is in your heart. Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you heart and soul." To a soul like that, faith can tell all its thoughts. So Jonathan tells his armour-bearer how he means to go about it. Taught by God, he saw what an invitation would mean. If the enemy in self-confident folly called them up, it would be a sign that the Lord had given the Philistines into their hand. For faith in God learns the mind of God at every step, and so knows how to meet every difficulty.
Showing yourself to an armed garrison takes nerve. But nerve is not the whole of what Jonathan brings.
"There is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few." Genuine faith speaks with simplicity. God uses it to work on the souls of others, as here on the armour-bearer… So there is not only the courage of faith, there is also the counting on God.
What Jonathan asks for is not permission to win. He asks which of two things God wants — and he is content with either answer.
Jonathan acts against all the wisdom of the world. He waits for the Lord's direction, and he is not at all uncertain. He knows that on the path of faith we may be called to advance or to stand still. "If they say to us, 'Wait until we come to you,' then we will stand still in our place and we will not go up to them. But if they say, 'Come up to us,' then we will go up, for the Lord has given them into our hand. And this shall be the sign to us" (vv. 9-10).
Commentators differ here. One writer takes the request for a sign as the opposite of a fault.
Courage does not mean rashness, though it may often seem like it. Jonathan is really working with God, and so he must be sure that he is in God's path. He proposes, therefore, that the sign should come from God Himself.
Another writer hears in the word "if" a crack in an otherwise fine confession.
The flaw in his faith shows in the words, "If they say this," and so on. Faith never says "if"; it has to do only with God. When Jonathan said, "There is no restraint to the Lord," he spoke a fine principle of truth. That principle should have carried him on without an "if." If his soul had been resting in the ability of God alone, he would not have looked for a sign. True, the Lord graciously gave him the sign, just as He had given one to Gideon before. He always meets His servants in all their need.
Notice what is missing from both options. Neither one is an exit.
We notice, though, that he makes no provision for retreat. Apparently there is nothing in his mind but conflict and victory. It is simply a question of whether he or the Philistines will be the attackers. Faith has its armour on the right hand and the left, has its breastplate, shield and helmet, but never any armour for the back. Nothing is provided for the cowardice that runs away. Jonathan will either go forward or stand his ground. He will not retreat. Neither, by God's grace, will we.
- Cross over. Jonathan moves toward the enemy instead of waiting for the attack. This goes against all the wisdom of the world.
- Show yourself. Faith does not hide its plans. What the world calls recklessness is open dependence on God.
- Ask first. Before going up he looks for a sign, so the bold step stays God's path and not his own will. Commentators differ on whether asking showed a flaw.
- Either answer. Advance or stand still: both are the path of faith, and Jonathan is ready for whichever God shows.
- No way back. Neither option includes retreat — faith is armoured in front, never behind.
If they say thus to us, Stand still until we come to you, then we will stay in our place, and will not go up to them.
Jonathan and his armour-bearer stand alone below a Philistine outpost. Here Jonathan tells him how they will read the enemy's reply. He has already decided to act, yet he leaves the timing to God. How can boldness and waiting live in the same heart?
Jonathan does not sneak up on the garrison. He announces himself, and that openness is part of his faith. But the plan in this verse keeps him from running ahead of God.
Faith does not hide itself. It is not afraid to show itself, or to make its plans known: "Behold, we will cross over to the men, and we will show ourselves to them." Jonathan shows a boldness that the world would call pure recklessness. Yet he is careful to avoid a path of self-will, and he seeks a sign to show him the will of God.
He keeps the same balance with the two possible answers. He will not force a battle, and he will not dodge one.
But while he goes forward like this, he does not confer with flesh and blood. There is nothing boastful about him, no acting in the haste and excitement of the flesh. His expectation is from God… He will not make difficulties for himself; but he will not turn away from difficulties that meet him in the path. His is the real dependence of faith.
Verse 9 is the half of the plan where nothing happens. If the Philistines call them to wait, Jonathan stays put. That stillness is not hesitation.
Jonathan acts against all the wisdom of the world. He waits for the Lord's direction. He is in no way uncertain. He knows that on the path of faith we may be called to advance or to stand still.
Jonathan's plan holds two things together.
So there is not only the courage of faith, but also the counting on God.
Jonathan lets the enemy's own reply decide the matter. Each answer would tell him something about their camp.
He finally accepts the enemy's own decision of the matter as the Lord's judgment. If they say, "Wait until we come to you," the energy implied will, at least, not show that He is opening the way before him. But if they say, "Come up to us," he will take it as the assurance that God has given them up into his hands. Their reply may come from laziness, indifference, or self-security.
Jonathan asked for a sign, and the reply he received exposed the garrison.
Jonathan asked God for a sign, and He was graciously pleased to grant it… "Come up to us" was the language of smug security. A single boulder would have destroyed two men as they clambered painfully up the rugged rocks. Yet the Philistines rolled none down on them. They felt so secure, and they had such contempt for the two climbers. Nothing is more deadly than a human sense of strength and security. Nothing is more blessed than a spiritual sense of weakness and dependence on God. Let us cultivate that sense of weakness more and more.
Notice what Jonathan never mentions: going back. Standing still and going up are the only outcomes he allows for.
Notice, however, that he makes no provision for retreating. There seems to be nothing in his mind but conflict and victory. It is simply a question of whether he or the Philistines will be the aggressors. Faith has its armour on the right hand and the left. It has its breastplate, shield and helmet, but never any armour for the back. No provision is made for the cowardice that runs away. Jonathan will either go forward or stand his ground. He will not retreat.
Jonathan waits on God below the rocks, with one companion. His father, the king, has everything a king has.
See the contrast between Jonathan and Saul (1 Sam. 14), between confidence in God overcoming difficulties, and self failing with all the resources of royalty. Jonathan climbs up on his hands and feet, confident in God, and the enemy falls before him. Saul, when he sees the Lord's work going on, not knowing the Lord's mind, calls for the priest… and he spoils it all by his foolish oath.
- Show yourself. Faith makes no secret of its plans. Jonathan steps into plain view of the enemy before he knows what will happen next.
- Then wait. Boldness without dependence would be self-will. So Jonathan asks God to decide, ready to advance or to stand still.
- Read the answer. A call to wait would show no door opening. A call to come up would expose the enemy's careless security — and that was God's sign.
- No armour for the back. Both options end in conflict — faith goes forward or holds its ground, but never plans a retreat.
- Compare the two camps. Saul had the crown, the priest and the army, and gained nothing. Jonathan had one companion, counted on God, and the enemy fell.
And if they say thus, Come up to us, then we will go up; for Jehovah has given them into our hand; and this shall be the sign to us.
Jonathan is deep in enemy country with one companion, and he sets a condition before he moves. The words of the Philistine guards will decide it. One writer notes that this is not hesitation but a deliberate refusal to move on his own initiative:
Jonathan acts contrary to all the wisdom of the world. He waits for the Lord's direction. He is in no way uncertain. He knows that on the path of faith we may be called to advance or to stand still.
The boldness of stepping into the open is matched by a check on his own will:
Faith does not hide itself, and is not afraid to show itself or expose its plans. While showing a boldness that in the eyes of the world is pure recklessness, Jonathan is wary of a path of self-will and seeks a sign to show him the will of God.
Jonathan does not arrange the sign himself. One writer points to Gideon, a leader long before Jonathan, whose faith God strengthened the same way:
But courage does not mean rashness, though it may often look like it. Jonathan is really working with God, as the people say later on, and so he must be sure that he is in God's path. He proposes, therefore, that the sign should come from God Himself. Gideon in his day had his faith strengthened in the same way, by various signs of confirmation. Jonathan and his armour-bearer will show themselves to the Philistines. They will attract their attention. If this stirs the Philistines enough to come down, the two men will stand and wait for the attack. If instead the Philistines invite them up, they will go forward, confident that God is leading them on to victory.
Notice what is missing from the two options he lays out. Neither one is a way back:
We notice, however, that he makes no provision for retreat. Apparently there is nothing in his mind but a conflict and a victory. Faith has its armour on the right hand and the left. It has its breastplate, shield and helmet. But it never has any armour for the back.
Jonathan is as ready to stand still as to go forward. What matters is who decides:
But while he goes forward like this, he does not consult other people. There is nothing boastful about him. He does not act in the haste and excitement of the flesh. His expectation is from God... In other words, he will wait for them to come to him, or he will go and throw himself into the middle of their camp. The Lord will decide which. He will not make difficulties for himself; but he will not turn away from difficulties that meet him in his path. His is the real dependence of faith.
When the sign comes, it comes through the enemy's own contempt. Their taunt hands Jonathan his orders:
Having done this, the very arrogance and scorn of the enemy show him what to do. "Look," say the men of the garrison to one another, "Hebrews are coming out of the holes where they have hidden themselves." Then, lazily and with the confidence of the flesh, they taunt these true Israelites: "Come up to us, and we will show you a thing." It is the sign for Jonathan.
That same self-assurance made the climb survivable:
"Come up to us" was the language of smug security. A single boulder would have destroyed two men as they clambered painfully up the rough rocks. Yet no boulder came down on them. The Philistines felt so secure, and their contempt for the two climbers ran so deep. Nothing is more deadly than a human sense of strength and security. But nothing is more blessed than a spiritual sense of weakness and dependence on God.
Jonathan says the enemy has been given into our hand, and when he repeats it in verse 12 he widens it further — into the hand of Israel, not his own:
Here we see not only faith, but the largeness and unselfishness of faith. He is a man whose heart was set on God blessing His people; and this was the right thing.
Not everyone sees asking for a sign as a strength. One writer treats the word "if" as a flaw in Jonathan's faith:
The flaw in his faith appears in the words, "if they say thus," and so on. Faith never says "if"; it has to do only with God. When Jonathan said that nothing can hinder the LORD from saving by many or by few, he spoke a fine principle of truth — one that should have carried him on without an "if." Had Jonathan's soul been resting simply in the ability of God, he would not have sought a sign. True, the Lord graciously gave him the sign, just as He had given one to Gideon before. He always meets His servants in all their needs.
- Waits. Jonathan moves only when God directs. The sign must come from God, not from himself.
- Advances or stands. Faith goes up or stays put at God's word. It makes no provision for retreat, because it has no armour for the back.
- Depends. He does not manufacture difficulties, and he does not dodge the ones that meet him in the path.
- Receives. The answer comes through the enemy's own contempt. Their smug security is what lets two climbers reach the top alive.
- Shares. The victory he expects is for God's people, not for himself. Faith here is large and unselfish.
And both of them shewed themselves to the garrison of the Philistines; and the Philistines said, Behold, the Hebrews come forth out of the holes where they had hid themselves.
Jonathan and his armour-bearer step out of cover in full view of a Philistine outpost, and the enemy sneers at men crawling out of holes. That insult was the sign they had been waiting for.
Jonathan did not creep up on the garrison. He stepped into the open where the enemy could see him. One writer reads that openness as the mark of faith, and notes that Jonathan still waited for a sign before acting:
Faith does not hide. It is not afraid to show itself or to reveal its plans: "Behold, we will cross over to the men, and we will show ourselves to them." In the eyes of the world this boldness is sheer recklessness. Yet Jonathan is careful to avoid a path of self-will, and seeks a sign to show the will of God. "This shall be the sign to us."
The Philistines do not call them Israelites. They call them Hebrews. The two names carry very different histories:
"Israel" was the name of grace. "Hebrews" was a term that only recalled how Abraham, their father, first came into the land from across the Euphrates. But many things had happened since Abraham's day. By the grace of God, Abraham's descendants had crossed both the Red Sea and the Jordan. They were now God's covenant people in the land of promise.
The taunt stings for another reason: the Philistines were not the first to use that word.
The Philistines spoke of Israel in the same language Saul had used before. It was the same word God used for those who shamefully abandoned their true ground through fear.
The taunt about holes was not made up. Israel had hidden. One writer turns the mockery back on anyone who keeps quiet about belonging to Christ:
We can well imagine the sneering smile of contempt with which the Philistines say, "Hebrews are coming out of the holes where they have hidden themselves." What a reproach it is, dear friends, when we are afraid to say that we are the Lord's and hide in secret places. What a reproach when we are afraid to let our neighbours know that we belong to Christ, and that the word of God is all the guide we need, which we are seeking to obey… Of course there may be, and there is, a morality and an upright outward walk. There may even be, to a degree, religious practices that Philistines themselves can join in. But where is that bold confession of loyalty to Christ our Lord?
The Philistines felt safe. Inviting two climbers up a rock face threw away the advantage of the high ground:
"Come up to us" was the language of smug security. One boulder would have been enough to destroy two men struggling up rough rocks. Yet the Philistines rolled none down on them. That is how secure they felt, and how deep their contempt for the two climbers ran. Nothing is more deadly than a human sense of strength and security. Nothing is more blessed than a spiritual sense of weakness and dependence on God.
Commentators differ over Jonathan's asking for a sign. One reads it as care, not bravado, and spells out how the sign was to work:
But courage does not mean rashness, though it may often look like it. Jonathan is really working with God, as the people say later on, and so he must be sure he is in God's path. He proposes, therefore, that the sign should come from God Himself. Jonathan and his armour-bearer will show themselves to the Philistines and attract their attention. If that stirs the enemy enough to come down to them, they will stand and wait for the attack. If instead the enemy invites them to come up, they will go forward, confident that God is leading them on to victory.
Another sees a flaw in the asking itself:
The defect in his faith appears in the words, "if they say thus," and so on. Faith never says "if"; it has to do only with God… Had Jonathan's soul been resting simply in the ability of God, he would not have looked for a sign. True, the Lord graciously gave him the sign, just as He had given one to Gideon before, for He always meets His servants in all their need.
- Shown, not hidden. Faith does not hide. Jonathan crossed over in the open and let the enemy look at him.
- Hebrews, not Israel. "Israel" was the name of grace. "Hebrews" only recalled Abraham crossing a river — and Saul used the enemy's word before the enemy did.
- Mocked, not wronged. The taunt about holes was earned: Israel had hidden. The same reproach falls wherever believers keep quiet about belonging to Christ.
- Secure, not safe. The scorn behind "come up to us" was smug security. A human sense of strength is deadly; weakness before God is the safer place.
- Answered, not refused. Commentators differ on the sign. One sees care rather than rashness; another sees an "if" that faith need not have spoken. Both agree that God answered it.
And the men of the garrison answered Jonathan and his armour-bearer and said, Come up to us, and we will shew you something. And Jonathan said to his armour-bearer, Come up after me; for Jehovah has delivered them into the hand of Israel.
Jonathan and his armor-bearer have shown themselves on purpose to an enemy camped above them on rocky ground. The Philistines answer with a jeer. That jeer is the sign Jonathan has been waiting for. His reply hands the coming victory not to himself, but to the whole nation.
Jonathan does not hear the taunt as an insult. He hears it as direction.
The pride and scorn of the enemy tell him what to do. "Look," say the men of the garrison to one another, "Hebrews are coming out of the holes where they have hidden themselves." Then, in lazy self-confidence, they taunt these true Israelites: "Come up to us, and we will show you a thing!" That is the sign for Jonathan: "The LORD has given them into the hand of Israel."
Their words also show how safe they felt. That feeling is why they never crushed the two climbers.
"Come up to us" was the language of men who felt perfectly safe. A single boulder would have destroyed two men with ease as they struggled up the rough rocks. Yet the Philistines rolled none down on them. That is how safe they felt, and how far their contempt for the two climbers went. Nothing is more deadly than a human sense of strength and safety. Nothing is more blessed than a spiritual sense of weakness and dependence on God.
Jonathan had set two possible answers before God in advance. The plan was bold, but it was not reckless.
But courage does not mean rashness, though it may often look like it. Jonathan is in fact working with God, as the people say later on. So he must be sure he is in God's path. He proposes that the sign come from God Himself. He and his armor-bearer will show themselves to the Philistines and draw their attention. If that stirs the Philistines enough to come down to them, the two will stand and wait for the attack. If instead the Philistines invite them up, they will go forward, sure that God is leading them to victory.
Notice what Jonathan does not say. He had every reason to claim the moment for himself, and he claims nothing.
Jonathan says, "Come up after me, for the LORD has given them into the hand of Israel" — not into Jonathan's hand, but "into the hand of Israel." Here we see not only faith, but the largeness and unselfishness of faith. Here is a man whose heart was set on God blessing His people, and this was the right thing.
Israel was in no state to earn such a promise. Another writer says this is the point.
His faith is marked by something else too: he knows the link between God and His people can never break. The state of that people is sad. The Philistines rule among them and plunder a defenceless land. They have nothing left to fight with; no sword or spear is found in Israel except with Saul and Jonathan. Even the king among them is one they sinned in setting up. None of this touches God's faithfulness. In the judgment of the man of faith, the Philistines are given into the hand of Israel — not into his own. By separating itself to God, faith identifies itself with His people. It loses sight of self, passes over their ruin, and recognises all that is theirs in God.
The Philistines mocked Israel for hiding. One commentator turns that mockery on the reader.
What a reproach it is when we are afraid to say that we are the Lord's, and hide in secret places. What a reproach when we are afraid to let our neighbours know that we belong to Christ, and that the word of God is all the guide we need, and that we are seeking to obey it. And when one man, in the boldness and simplicity of faith, does show himself and speaks out for his Lord's honour, the reproach may well fall on all the rest of God's people, if even a few are coming out of their holes and showing themselves.
Jonathan's call, "Come up after me," is answered on hands and knees. One commentator finds a lesson in that posture.
So Jonathan and his companion climb on hands and knees to the attack. Knees matter as much as hands when you climb spiritual heights. And the Philistines fall before them. Fear and trembling fall on the army. The earth trembles and quakes, for God Himself is there. The victory is already won.
- Contempt. The enemy's mocking invitation came from a sense of total safety. That is the most dangerous state a person can be in. It is the opposite of depending on God.
- Confirmation. Jonathan did not charge on impulse. He fixed the sign in advance, so the go-ahead came from God and not from his own daring.
- Climb. Faith takes the hard route, on hands and knees. The difficulties do not go away. God outweighs them.
- Company. "Into the hand of Israel" — not into mine. Faith claims the victory for God's people, even a people in ruins, because God's link with them holds.
- Conquest. God Himself was there, and that settled the outcome.
And Jonathan climbed up upon his hands and upon his feet, and his armour-bearer after him; and they fell before Jonathan; and his armour-bearer slew after him.
Jonathan's attack on the Philistine outpost begins with a crawl, not a charge. Two men climb a cliff against an army in a strong position — so how does the victory come?
The place itself ruled out any ordinary attack. One writer weighs what human strength could do there, and what faith counts on instead.
The Philistines' position is a strong one among steep rocks: what could human energy achieve? Jonathan has to climb up on his hands and feet (v. 13). The oppressors are there too in great numbers, and well armed. But faith with a single sword counts God enough... He can give strength to one sword to subdue a host.
A man on hands and feet cannot walk upright into battle. One writer finds two things in that.
They climb up, as has been said, on their hands and feet, suggesting both work and prayer. It is not idleness or empty confidence. It is the toil of those who know that in themselves there is no strength. We read very little of the details of this conflict. The victory has already been won in Jonathan's heart, and further details might distract us from the real lesson involved. Faith that has conquered our own cowardly heart can conquer any Philistines that oppose.
Before the climb, Jonathan told his armour-bearer why they were going up (v. 12). Notice his wording. He did not say that God had given the enemy into his hand.
"And Jonathan said to his armour-bearer, Come up after me, for the LORD has given them into the hand of Israel." He does not say into the hand of Jonathan, but "into the hand of Israel." Here we see not only faith, but the largeness and unselfishness of faith. It was a man whose heart was set on God blessing His people; and this was the right thing.
Another writer sets that out as an order for every conflict a believer faces:
How important it is, for all our spiritual conflicts, to realise that we are fighting first of all with God, then for God, and then for all His people!
The verse keeps the two men in order: Jonathan first, his armour-bearer after him.
In the energy of faith he goes forward and climbs the rock, his armour-bearer following. The Philistines fall before him. It is much easier work for the armour-bearer to kill after him. The power that inspires Jonathan acts for him. The LORD is really there. He uses Jonathan as an instrument and puts honour on the arm faith has strengthened, but He shows Himself.
Jonathan reached the top with his hands on the rock, not on a weapon.
Jonathan fights without human weapons. He has to use his hands and feet to climb up in front of the Philistines (v. 13). In this condition he wins God's victory.
The same writer sets Saul beside him — the king who looked like he had everything:
As for Saul, in appearance he lacked nothing, but in reality he was lacking everything. God was not with him... He had the army with him, that is to say, strength. But it was a strength that melted away when the Philistines came near, so proving his weakness.
Two men climb, and the effect runs far past them, because of who is there:
So Jonathan and his companion climb on hands and knees to the attack. Knees as well as hands are a great necessity in climbing spiritual heights. The Philistines fall before them. Fear and trembling fall on the army. The earth trembles and quakes, for God Himself is there. The victory is already won.
- Hands empty. Jonathan had to use his hands and feet just to climb, so he fought without human weapons. In that condition he won God's victory.
- Hands and knees. Hands and knees suggest work and prayer. Not idleness, not empty confidence, but the effort of those who know they have no strength of their own.
- Hands not his own. Jonathan said God had given the enemy into the hand of Israel, not into his own hand. That is faith that is large and unselfish, set on God blessing His people.
- Hands behind him. The armour-bearer kills after Jonathan. The power that moves the man in front carries the one who follows.
- Hands of God. God uses Jonathan as an instrument and honours the arm faith strengthened. But it is He who shows Himself. The earth quakes, and the victory is already won.
And that first slaughter which Jonathan and his armour-bearer wrought was about twenty men, as it were on the half-furrow of an acre of land.
Two men have just climbed a rock face into an enemy outpost, and the count is oddly exact: about twenty men, on ground the size of a morning's ploughing. So who won this fight, and what does God count as a victory?
By any military reckoning, twenty dead men is nothing. The text also says almost nothing about the fighting itself.
We read very little of the details of this conflict. The victory has already been won in Jonathan's heart, and further details might distract us from the real lesson involved. Faith that has conquered our own coward heart can conquer any Philistines that oppose. The killing does not look very great by human measure, and yet what mighty results flow from it! There is a trembling everywhere.
The verse measures the ground by ploughing, not by feet or yards. An older English translation reads "half an acre of land, which a yoke of oxen might plow."
Here the word is maanah, "a furrow," and the margin reads "half a furrow of an acre."… The "acre" was as much land as a pair of oxen could plough in a day… We have no way of knowing exactly how much the Jewish acre held. It is not listed among the usual weights and measures as a fixed measure of land.
The order of events matters here, and so does the location. Which came first — the panic in the Philistine camp, or the blow of these two men?
Jonathan and his armour-bearer had struck down just twenty men. Then the Philistine army in the field trembled. The garrison trembled, the raiders trembled too, and the earth quaked. Hearts and the earth are both in God's hands. Where faith is at work, He can make the proud heart lose its courage and the ground under them shake. But notice: the enemy was as boastful as ever until Jonathan and his armour-bearer went on the attack. They had to strike first. Then God acted, and trembling seized the army of Philistia. But where did this happen? Exactly where Saul had been afraid of his enemies.
Behind that first blow lies a decision not to wait for help.
Saul has his six hundred men, but they have no spirit, and they are armed only with rough, blunted weapons. This lack of resources, however, is only God's hand shutting them up to Himself… What would an army of such men achieve? Nothing but their own defeat. So Jonathan, who has faith, will not burden himself with them: made strong by God, he strikes with his own hand for deliverance, and strikes effectively.
The verse credits the strike to both men, but they did not do the same job.
They reach the top of the hill, where the scornful enemy expected to make fun of them. But they attacked at once with a strength born of faith in the living God. The Philistines fall one by one before the sword of Jonathan, and his armour-bearer makes sure they are dead. This first sudden attack killed about twenty men. And it did not end there: confusion spread through the ranks of the Philistines.
Jonathan's words before the climb show who he thought the victory belonged to.
"And Jonathan said to his armor-bearer, 'Come up after me, for the LORD has given them into the hand of Israel'" — not of Jonathan, but "into the hand of Israel." Here we see not only faith, but the largeness and unselfishness of faith. It is a man whose heart was set on God's blessing His people; and this was the right thing.
Later in the chapter the people gave their own verdict on the day. One writer draws a careful distinction from it.
In 1 Samuel 14 he handled himself so well that the people declared, "he has worked with God this day" (verse 45). It is a great thing to work with God, and we must not confuse it with working for God. To work with God is to have His mind for the moment. The worker then moves as God moves, along the line that He marks out… Such discernment comes from exercise of heart before God. There is no other way to get it.
- Small. Twenty men on half a furrow's ground. By human measure the win is tiny, so its size is not what the record celebrates.
- First. The two men had to strike first. The trembling, the earthquake and the rout all came after the blow, not before it.
- Alone. Jonathan would not wait for Saul's six hundred men, who had no spirit. He struck with his own hand, and struck effectively.
- Shared. One led with the sword and one made sure of the fallen. The verse credits the strike to both men.
- Wider. He said the enemy was given into the hand of Israel, not his own. The people later said he had worked with God, which is not the same as working for Him.
And there was trembling in the camp, in the field, and among all the people; the garrison, and the ravagers, they also trembled, and the earth quaked; for it was a trembling [from] God.
Two men had just climbed a cliff on their hands and feet and killed about twenty Philistines, and then the ground itself moved. Where the ESV reads "panic," older translations read "trembling," and the writers quoted below use that word for what struck the whole Philistine army and the land under it.
Word for word, the Hebrew calls this "a trembling of God." One writer lists this verse among the places where the Hebrew name for God marks something as mighty:
Our translators keep the same idea where they judged the word was used as an adjective. In Genesis 23:6 they translate not "a prince of God" but "a mighty prince." See also Exodus 9:28 and 1 Samuel 14:15.
The name is not decoration. It tells you whose hand is on the camp, and what a small act of faith can set off:
Faith that has conquered our own cowardly heart can conquer any Philistines that oppose. The slaughter does not seem very great, judged by human standards, and yet what mighty results flow from it! There is a trembling everywhere. It is as though God were laying His mighty hand on everyone. He makes proud oppressors, the camp of Israel, and the land itself feel the weight of that arm — the arm that will shake not only earth but heaven too. There is a trembling of God.
The trembling did not come first to clear a path. It came after Jonathan and his armour-bearer had already struck the garrison.
The host of the Philistines in the field trembled. The garrison trembled, and the raiders too, and the earth quaked — and Jonathan and his armour-bearer had killed just twenty men. Hearts and the earth are both in God's hands. Where faith is active, He can make the bravest heart lose its courage and the earth under them shake. But notice, the enemy was as boastful as ever until Jonathan and his armour-bearer went on the offensive. They had to strike first; then God acted, and a trembling seized the host of Philistia.
The verse lists the camp, the open field, the garrison, the raiders and the ground. Twenty deaths cannot explain a reach that wide. One writer sees God's answer to faith in it:
Here are these two men climbing on their hands and knees, and their enemies fall before Jonathan, and his armour-bearer killed them after him. Everything on the right hand and on the left, in heaven and on earth, is made to serve the full triumph of faith. There was trembling in the host and in the field, the earth quaked, and there was a great trembling. What an answer from God to the faith that honours Him!
Another writer names the cause in one line:
Fear and trembling fall on the host, and the earth trembles and quakes, for God Himself is there: the victory is already accomplished.
Later in the chapter the people say Jonathan "worked with God" that day. One writer reads this verse as the other side of that partnership.
The victory was certain before the battle began. After the battle the people gave their true estimate of Jonathan: he "worked with God" (v. 45). The Philistines were therefore powerless... But if Jonathan worked with God, God also worked with His servant. He sent a trembling in the host, in the field, and among all the people. The battle was the Lord's; faith recognised it, and the Lord Himself secured the result. There was no restraint on Him, as Jonathan had confessed, to save by many or by few.
Saul and his men heard the same uproar. Their first instinct was to count their own soldiers.
Saul and his company soon learn of the commotion among the Philistines, and of an apparent conflict and victory they had had nothing to do with. But there does not seem to be any thought with them that God is at work — surely it must be that some of his own little company have gone to fight the enemy. His order to count and see who had gone from them seems to show he thought human power had been at work. He finds that only Jonathan and his armour-bearer are missing, and that would not be enough to explain the commotion.
- Strike — the boasting enemy did not break until two men moved; they had to strike first, then God acted.
- Shake — the trembling reached the camp, the field, the garrison, the raiders and the ground. God Himself was there.
- Name — the phrase is literally "a trembling of God"; the divine name marks the size and the source of the panic.
- Partnership — Jonathan worked with God, and God worked with His servant. The battle was the Lord's, and He secured the result.
- Blindness — Saul watched the same collapse and looked for a human explanation; he counted his own men instead of seeing God at work.
And the watchmen of Saul in Gibeah of Benjamin looked, and behold, the multitude melted away, and they went on slaying one another.
Saul's lookouts in Gibeah of Benjamin watch an enemy army fall apart, with no Israelite battle line in the field and no royal command behind it. The verse raises two questions: who is really fighting this war, and why is Israel's king the last to know?
What the watchmen saw was not ordinary panic. One commentator points to the shaking ground as proof that a power beyond the two men was at work.
It was not just that God gave strength to these two faithful men. There was also a mighty work of God apart from them, and this is a thing we can count on... So here there was trembling in the host over the field. It was not merely a question of man's fear. This certainly would not have made the field itself tremble. "And the earth quaked."
Older translations read that the crowd melted away and the men went on killing one another. Another writer traces that same order — fright, then panic, then the Philistines' own swords — and points to two other battles where God did the same.
God honoured his faith, and caused the earth to quake with a very great trembling. First came fright and confusion. Then panic spread through the camp of the Philistines. God turned every man's sword against his fellow, and there was a very great defeat, while Israel pursued. (See also Judges 7:22 and 2 Chronicles 20:23.)
Jonathan and his armor-bearer had struck down about twenty men. The watchmen were looking at the collapse of a nation.
The enemies are terrified. This is the result of the victory — in appearance a victory over twenty men, but in reality over an entire people. It is often like this. We have only to enter the conflict right in front of us. Whether it is against one enemy or a thousand matters little. God directs the results, and they will go beyond everything man expects or imagines.
Israel's king takes no part in the battle. One writer weighs what he still has against what he lacks.
But what of Saul? He waits under a pomegranate tree in Migron, while God is triumphing over the Philistines through Jonathan... All that is regular as to form is with Israel, but not faith. "And when they had counted, behold, Jonathan and his armor-bearer were not there." That is all they know about it.
His first move is to order a roll call. One writer sees in that order what Saul assumed had happened.
They seem to have no thought that God is at work. To them, some of Saul's own little company must have gone out to fight the enemy. His order, "Count and see who has gone from us," seems to show that he had some idea that human power had been at work. He finds that only Jonathan and his armor-bearer are missing. That is not enough to explain the commotion.
Saul's next move is to send for the ark. One writer reads it as the act of a man guarding his own position.
He could not fail to see that the energy of faith had brought Jonathan into a place that officially belonged to Saul. The flesh is sensitive about keeping its official importance. He must therefore do something. So he said to Ahijah, "Bring the ark of God here," as if he could dispose of it as he pleased. Some men are bold enough to take and use the most sacred things, not because they truly care for them, but to cover ambition with the appearance of devotion. That is as clear a mark of the flesh as its unwillingness to submit to the word.
Others are watching too. Once the enemy's disorder is plain, men who had been hiding come out and join a victory they did not start.
So far only two men have acted, and the little band with Saul is unaware of their departure. But now the Israelites around begin to wake up and to follow in the track now opened before them... The Israelites who have been hiding around swarm after the fleeing host. The broken wave of battle ebbs away toward the west. It is Jehovah who that day saves Israel.
- Cause — The rout began with two men, not with an army. God directs results that go far beyond what man expects.
- Quake — Fear alone does not shake a field. The earth quaked, and the Philistines' swords turned on each other.
- Blindness — Saul answers a work of God with a head count. No one in his camp thinks God is at work.
- Form — The king keeps every outward form, the ark included, but has no faith. Sacred things can cover ambition with the appearance of devotion.
- Result — Faith cut a track, and the Israelites in hiding followed it. The day belongs to God: it is the Lord who saves Israel.
Then said Saul to the people that were with him, Muster now, and see who is gone from us. And they mustered, and behold, Jonathan and his armour-bearer were not there.
Jonathan and his armour-bearer have slipped out alone, and God is routing the Philistines through them. Saul watches the enemy camp fall apart, then reaches for a headcount instead of asking God what is happening.
Saul looked for the cause of the uproar inside his own camp instead of looking to God:
Saul and his men soon learn of the commotion among the Philistines. They hear of a battle and a victory they had nothing to do with. But none of them seems to think that God is at work. They assume it must be some of Saul's own little company who have gone out to fight the enemy. "Count and see who has gone from us," suggests that he had some idea that human power had been at work.
The count gave him an answer, but not one that explained anything:
When Saul counts his men, only Jonathan and one other are absent. So slight a cause seems far too small to explain the effect, and now he thinks of consulting God.
Saul kept the outward order, but he had no idea what God was doing through Jonathan:
But what of Saul? He is still waiting under a pomegranate tree in Migron, while God is triumphing over the Philistines through Jonathan. … All that is regular as to form is with Israel, but not faith. "And when they had counted, behold, Jonathan and his armor-bearer were not there." That is all they know about it.
The same writer sets faith and Saul side by side:
Faith acts on its own. Saul has to count the people to find out who is absent. Alas! we are entering into the sad history of unbelief.
Jonathan's name was missing for a reason. He kept his plan from everyone except the one man who shared his trust in God.
Note first that faith acts from itself. It does not weigh difficulties, and it does not look for the advice and help of others. Only to his armour-bearer, who shared his master's faith, does he tell his purpose. He did not tell his father (v. 1); and the people did not know that Jonathan was gone. (v. 3.) The path of faith is complete foolishness to the natural man. To debate what faith proposes with those who have no confidence in the Lord is to lose faith and to guarantee defeat.
When God's people sink low, they cannot read the man who acts by faith:
The path of simple, childlike faith is far removed from human sight. If the Lord's people sink into a low, worldly state, they can never understand the principle of power in the soul of someone who is truly acting by faith. Others will misunderstand him in various ways and assign wrong motives to him. They will accuse him of setting himself up, or of acting out of self-will and on his own.
Saul turned next to the priest and the ark. That gave him no more light than the count had:
After all, the priest and the ark gave the king no adequate light. He could not get satisfaction as to the cause of the mysterious trembling. It was very evident that the light of God did not shine there; so he turned to another resource.
The verdict on the numbering is the same either way. It was the act of a man who could see the victory but not the God who gave it.
- Count. Saul answers a battle he did not start with a roll call. He looks for a human cause where God is at work.
- Short. The count turns up two missing names. Two men cannot explain an army in collapse, so the count settles nothing.
- Form. King, priest and ark are all in place, and the form is correct. Faith is what is missing, and no amount of order supplies it.
- Alone. Jonathan is missing because he told no one but his armour-bearer. Debating faith's plans with unbelief only guarantees defeat.
- Misread. A camp that cannot see God at work sees only a man out of line. So it accuses the man of faith of going off on his own.
And Saul said to Ahijah, Bring hither the ark of God. For the ark of God was at that time with the children of Israel.
Jonathan and his armour-bearer have attacked alone, the Philistine camp is in uproar, and Saul — who knows nothing of it — calls for the ark. What use are sacred things in the hands of a man who is not walking with God?
Saul calls for a priest named Ahijah. One writer identifies him and points to how his story ended:
Verse 3 tells us that Ahiah (called Ahimelech in Chapter 22:9), the grandson of Eli, was priest at this time. Yet the priesthood was of no consequence to Saul, nor did Jonathan think of consulting the priest. The priesthood had regained no power since Eli's day. And God's word that no descendant of Eli would live to old age would prove solemnly true in this case, when Saul had Ahimelech and other priests killed by Doeg the Edomite (ch. 22:18).
The verse adds that the ark was with Israel at the time. That note is unusual, because under Saul the ark had dropped out of the nation's life:
How completely the ark had been forgotten during the previous reign! From the time the Philistines sent it back, it appears only to show how little Saul valued it.
Asking for the ark sounds like reverence. One writer sees only the outward shape of seeking God, and shows how fast Saul dropped it:
Here again there is form — the form of honouring the Lord in seeking His guidance. It seems all right, yet it is only form. (God, if we may put it this way, has left with Jonathan.) Saul will have the ark brought. But while he talks with the priest, the noise of defeat in the Philistine army keeps growing, and he tells him to stop. "Withdraw your hand," he says, v. 19. There is no simple dependence on God, only the uncertainty and bewilderment of unbelief.
Everything religious sits on Saul's side of the field. The victory is happening somewhere else:
Saul had the forms of religion about him. The Lord's priest was there, wearing an ephod, and the ark was not far away. But what is the value of forms if power is lacking? The past and present history of Christendom is a sufficient answer.
Why send for it at all? One writer suggests a reason:
Perhaps Saul was not far from the ark's hiding place at this time. He may have had it brought as a rallying point for his shrinking band of men, and as a witness that God was with him.
Israel had done this once before, in Eli's day:
Saul's attitude was very much like that of the elders of Israel in 1 Sam. 4:3, who said: "Let us bring the ark of the covenant of the LORD here from Shiloh, that it may come among us and save us from the power of our enemies." Like Saul, they clearly did not realise that their moral state had put them at a distance from God.
Saul sends for the ark, and nothing comes of it. One writer draws the conclusion:
Saul consults it once (1 Sam. 14:18-19), but its presence has no effect and no power. It is there, but it is tied to men in whom faith and integrity were no longer found, so nothing came of it. Instead it proved that God was elsewhere, or at least that He was working elsewhere.
Some versions read "ephod" here instead of "ark" — the ephod being the priest's garment. That reading comes from the Septuagint, the ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament. One writer weighs the two:
During Saul's reign, David tells us, they did not inquire at it (1 Chron. 13:3). That remark would strengthen the thought that in 1 Sam. 14:18 the Septuagint has preserved the true reading, putting ephod in place of the ark. We say it would strengthen the thought, because the Hebrew manuscripts show no variation of reading in that place. So one would hesitate to say firmly that the Greek translation was right and the Hebrew text wrong.
- Form. Saul's call for the ark looks like honouring God, but it is only the outward form.
- Forgotten. The ark appears here once and then vanishes again; under Saul it was not inquired of, only used.
- Repeat. Eli's generation had already carried the ark into battle, not realising their own state had put them at a distance from God.
- Power. A form is worth nothing once the power has gone — the history of Christendom answers that.
- Elsewhere. The ark stayed silent because God was working somewhere else — with Jonathan, outside every religious form.
And it came to pass while Saul talked to the priest, that the noise which was in the camp of the Philistines went on and increased; and Saul said to the priest, Withdraw thy hand.
Saul turns to God just as the battle turns — and then stops halfway. The priest is still seeking God's mind when Saul hears the enemy camp collapsing and calls the inquiry off.
Sending for the ark looks like real devotion to God.
"And Saul said to Ahiah, Bring here the ark of God," v. 18. Here again there is form — the form of honouring the Lord in seeking His guidance. It seems all right, yet it is but the form. (God, if we may speak this way, has left with Jonathan.) Saul will have the ark brought. But while he talks with the priest, the uproar of defeat in the Philistine camp keeps going and keeps growing. So he tells the priest to stop: "Withdraw your hand," v. 19. There is no simple dependence on God here, only the uncertainty and confusion of unbelief.
One writer looks behind the gesture — at the motive for it, and at why it ended so fast.
The flesh is bold enough to take and use the most sacred things — not because it truly cares for them, but to cover ambition with a show of devotion. This boldness marks the flesh as clearly as its refusal to be subject to the word. But notice his inconsistency. When the priest brought him the ark, he turned away from it as fast as he had turned from Samuel. When he heard the noise in the Philistine camp grow louder, he said to the priest, "Withdraw your hand." The service was a short one; his impatience made it so.
Saul calls off the inquiry at the moment the battle turns his way.
Saul is talking with the priest, who looks to be just beginning to ask counsel of God. Meanwhile the rout of the Philistines becomes clearer. The king thinks that is reason enough to stop what was not his own first impulse. The flesh does not love to ask counsel of God, and gladly withdraws from His presence. It looks only at what is seen; and if victory is already assured, there is no need for dependence upon God. Sadly, how common this is! We turn to God in our times of perplexity, when every other means has failed. And how easily we do without His help once we think we no longer need it!
Another writer puts Saul's unspoken reasoning into words:
But as he was talking with Ahiah, the increasing noise in the Philistines' camp excites him so much that he tells Ahiah, "Withdraw your hand." In effect he is saying, "We don't need God's direction now: the noise of the battle decides the matter for us."
The noise Saul was listening to came from God's own work, going on away from the king and the priest beside him.
Saul tries to get some direction from the ark, while elsewhere God was triumphing over the enemy without Israel. The uproar of their defeat keeps growing. Unbelief never knows what to do, so it tells the priest to withdraw his hand. The king and the priest were not the link between God and the people.
The inquiry left Saul no wiser. One writer notes where he turned next.
In the end, the priest and the ark did not give the king enough light. He could not get satisfaction as to the cause of the mysterious trembling. It was very evident that the light of God did not shine there; so he turned to another resource. Later, as we read, they cast lots.
One writer weighs God's silence here, and stops short of guessing what He would have said:
God allowed the ark to be brought before the king, but He was in no hurry to answer. Saul was more affected by the noise in the Philistine camp than by any wish to learn God's mind about what was happening. We cannot tell whether the Lord would have answered or not, or what His reply would have been if He had answered the priest's intercession. But this much is plain: the whole matter was marked by the impatience of the flesh, and by a lack of understanding about the king's relations with God at that time.
Later that day Saul needed the very counsel he had waved away.
The priest who earlier had withdrawn his hand (v. 19) still has the courage to say: "Let us draw near to God here" (v. 36). Saul inquires of the Lord, and the Lord does not answer him. God allows everything in this adventure to have extreme consequences and to lead to Saul's humiliation… The Lord protects His faithful servant, while the king according to the flesh comes under judgment.
- Form — the call for the ark looked like honour to God. It was only the form, with no dependence behind it.
- Ambition — the flesh will handle the holiest things to dress up its own ambition as devotion.
- Impatience — the enemy's noise mattered more to Saul than God's answer, so he cut the service short.
- Independence — once victory looked sure, Saul had no more use for God's counsel. We do the same when a crisis passes.
- Silence — the hand Saul waved away was the one he later needed, and later that day God gave him no answer at all.
And Saul and all the people that were with him were called together, and they came to the battle; and behold, every man's sword was against his fellow, a very great confusion.
Saul brings his men into the fight only after the Philistine camp has already broken apart. The enemy army is destroying itself, and the question is what a latecomer adds to a victory God has already given.
Saul enters the field, but Jonathan's act of faith and God's hand had already decided the battle. One writer traces what the king found when he finally moved:
Great necessity presses him to God, but he would much rather do without Him. The matter is clear enough for action. He gathers his company and goes out to battle, only to find that dissension has already brought disaster on the enemy's ranks. The "Hebrews" among them, whether disloyal or captive, turn against them. The Israelites who have been hiding nearby swarm after the fleeing host. The broken wave of battle rolls away toward the west. It is Jehovah who that day saves Israel.
The sword in every Philistine hand found a fellow Philistine. That was no accident of panic. It happens again and again in Israel's story, and at times God's people only stand and watch.
But God is at work, through Jonathan, and the enemy is thoroughly routed. Indeed, they turn their weapons against one another, as is so often seen in Israel's conflicts. Whenever they were with God, it was hardly necessary for them to fight. They could "stand still," and see the enemy fighting among themselves. So it was in the days of Gideon and when Jehoshaphat faced a countless host.
Another writer traces the panic back to God, and to the earthquake that started it:
God honoured Jonathan's faith, and made the earth quake "with a very great trembling." First came fright and confusion, then panic spread through the camp of the Philistines. God turned "every man's sword against his fellow, and there was very great confusion," while Israel pursued, and "the people returned only to spoil." (See also Judges 7:22 and 2 Chronicles 20:23.)
Saul goes into the fight, but not on Jonathan's ground. His energy is real, yet it is not from God:
He joins the battle (v. 20). But he does not enter into the spirit of it. He has no sense of what Jonathan had counted on, the secret of Jonathan's strength: "there is no restraint with Jehovah to work by many or by few." … There is great apparent energy, it is true, but it is not of the Spirit of God. So when he gets into the tide of victory, he is in reality only a troubler, distressing Israel and hindering the pursuit. It is a zeal of the flesh, and a selfish one. We may get into the path of faith, but we shall find there that nothing but faith can walk in it. Let the flesh mix itself up in the work of faith, and it is only for weakness.
That zeal did real damage:
Saul and his followers came to the battle (14:20). Now we can learn what help the flesh brings to those who fight the enemies of God and His people. His first act was to curse any man of Israel who ate food before evening. He could not have found a more effective way of weakening them. … By his own words it was to serve his own ends — "That I may be avenged on my enemies." Self was the lens through which he sadly saw everything. The curse did not hurt his enemies; it helped them make good their retreat.
Ridout turns the lesson toward the reader:
Let us remember that we need God as much in victory as in conflict — perhaps more. While the outcome is uncertain we naturally turn to Him. But our temptation is to forget Him when the battle is won.
The self-slaughter of the Philistines is read as a sample of God's settled method against those who attack His people:
What happened in Judges 7:22 and 1 Samuel 14:20, when every man's sword was against his fellow, will happen to the armies of Gog… When God dealt with Pharaoh and his army, Israel did not need to lift a finger in their defence.
- Faith starts it. Jonathan's move opened the day, not Saul's call to arms. God honoured that faith with an earthquake and panic.
- God finishes it. Every Philistine sword turned on a fellow Philistine. God did the same with Gideon and Jehoshaphat, and will do it again against Gog.
- Flesh follows it. Saul came to the battle with great apparent energy, but without the confidence that God can save by many or by few.
- Flesh spoils it. His curse on eating weakened Israel and let the beaten enemy escape. Zeal without faith only hinders.
- Victory tests it. We turn to God while the outcome is uncertain, then forget Him after the win. That is when we need Him most.
And there were Hebrews with the Philistines before that time, who had gone up with them into the camp round about; and they also [turned] to be with the Israelites who were with Saul and Jonathan.
The battle has turned, and the Philistine army is falling apart. Men who had been fighting on the wrong side now switch back to Israel — yet Scripture still refuses to call them Israelites.
Commentators fix on the name these men are given. They were Israelites by birth. Yet Scripture calls them by a lower name, and the reason is where they had been standing.
These men were with the Philistines. What business had Israelites there? We could understand the Philistines coming in among them. But when Israelites went over to the Philistines, that was treachery or guilty weakness. God might send their enemies as a punishment, and let them come among Israel to their great trouble. But what could justify Israelites going in among the Philistines? And if they did so, did they not deserve a better name than that of Hebrews? So the Spirit of God calls them.
"Hebrew" and "Israel" are not interchangeable labels. One looks back to family descent; the other carries what God had done for the nation.
"Israel" was the name of grace (Genesis 35:10). "Hebrews" was a name that only recalled how Abraham, their father, first came into the land from across the Euphrates. But many things had happened since Abraham's day. By the grace of God, His descendants had crossed both the Red Sea and the Jordan. They were now God's covenant people in the land of promise… No wonder the Philistines spoke of them with contempt as "Hebrews." And it seems fitting that the Holy Spirit should use the same name for the cowards who fled east across the Jordan when danger came, and for the traitors who allied themselves with the enemy.
They came from Jacob's own line. Yet they had settled down among Israel's enemies and felt at home there.
Here again, instead of Israel — the people only Jonathan recognised — we find men whom even the Spirit of God calls Hebrews. Though they came "of the fountain of Jacob," they are among the Philistines, content to be at ease among the enemies of God.
A second group of Israelites had hidden themselves instead of joining the enemy. Scripture treats the two groups differently, and the difference is deliberate.
These men had abandoned the ground of the people of God. They had joined their enemies, the Philistines. So Scripture calls them Hebrews. On the day of victory they did turn to be with the Israelites who were with Saul and Jonathan. Even so, the Spirit of God will not own them as of Israel. On the other hand, the weak and fearful ones stayed in their place, even though they hid themselves because of the enemy. Scripture calls these men "men of Israel." It draws a line between those who openly allied themselves with the Philistines and those who hid for safety because they feared the enemy. God knew the frame of these feeble ones, and remembered that they were dust.
The lower name is not a permanent sentence. It answers to conduct, and conduct can change.
As long as they played a false part, they had forfeited the name of Israel, if not the relationship itself. But the people who had only given way to fear regained that name when they went back to the ways that suited the sons of Israel. They had been unworthy in the past; even so, they are now called by the name of divine honour.
The timing of their return is not flattering. They moved once the risk was gone.
Both traitors and cowards were now willing to identify themselves with God's side, now that side was triumphant. It has always been so. But God is far more pleased with the godly few who hold to Him, and who are willing to accept both reproach and danger for His name's sake.
Still, their return is a mercy. One writer sees scattered sheep called back, and warns us about the pull of our own example.
Not only is the enemy overthrown, but the poor scattered sheep of Israel are called back. Many of them were captives of the Philistines, or served them willingly… Everyone is responsible to see that his example does not encourage others to desert the Lord! What a terrible thing it is to be a stumbling-block!
Neither the defectors nor the king turned the battle. The chapter itself names the victor.
It was clear for anyone who had eyes to see that it was not man, but the Lord Himself who saved Israel that day.
- Where — They were Israelites standing in the Philistine camp. Nothing could justify that.
- Name — Scripture withholds "Israel," the name of grace. Playing a false part forfeits the name, though those who only panicked won it back.
- Degrees — Commentators separate the traitors who joined the enemy from the fearful who only hid. God remembered that the weak ones were dust.
- Timing — They came back only after the victory was won. God is better pleased with the few who take the reproach early.
- Victor — The day belonged to neither group. It was the Lord who saved Israel.
And all the men of Israel who had hid themselves in mount Ephraim heard that the Philistines fled, and they also followed hard after them in the battle.
Israel's army had scattered and hidden when the Philistines came in force. Then two men broke the enemy's ranks, and this verse tells what the hidden men did once the tide turned — raising the question of how God treats those who show up only after the danger has passed.
The chapter uses two names for two groups of Israelites. One writer explains the difference.
Those who had left the ground of the people of God and joined their enemies, the Philistines, are called Hebrews. The Spirit of God will not own them as belonging to Israel, even though in the day of victory they turned to be with the Israelites that were with Saul and Jonathan. The weak and fearful ones are called "men of Israel." They stayed in their place, yet hid themselves because of the enemy. God knew what these feeble ones were made of, and remembered that they were dust.
The men in the hill country of Ephraim had not been brave. Yet when they come out and join the pursuit, Scripture hands them back the honourable title.
Notice the difference. God measures all His ways with such perfect justice that the men who had gone completely wrong were called "Hebrews." As long as they played a false part, they had forfeited the name of Israel, if not the relationship. These men no longer received that blessed name. But the people who had only given in to fear won it back when they returned to the ways that suited the sons of Israel. They had been unworthy in the past; still, now they are called by the name of divine honour.
Not every writer reads the moment so warmly. One weighs these latecomers against those who stood with God when it cost something.
Those of God's people who had gone over to the Philistines — the inspired writer calls them "Hebrews" in contempt, not "Israelites" — and others who had hidden themselves, now turned out to share the victory. Both traitors and cowards were now willing to be counted on God's side, now that side was winning. It has always been so. But God is far more pleased with the godly few who hold fast to Him, and are willing to accept both reproach and danger for His name's sake.
So commentators differ. One sees God's kindness to the fearful. The other sees how cheap it is to join a winning side.
The hidden men do not start anything. They move into a gap two men opened while they were still out of sight.
So far only two men have acted, and even the little band with Saul did not know they had gone. But now the Israelites around begin to wake up and to follow in the track opened for them… The "Hebrews" who were traitors or captives among the Philistines turn against them. The Israelites who have been hiding swarm after the fleeing army. It is Jehovah who saves Israel that day.
Another writer notes where these men had been before they came out.
How good it is to see the results of a work of God like this! Not only is the enemy overthrown, but the poor scattered sheep of Israel are called back. Many of them were captives, or willing servants, to the Philistines. Many had also hidden themselves in the mountains, afraid to face the enemy. But they know a victory, and rally to the Lord's standard.
The king brings his men into a fight already decided without him.
Saul and his little band rush up to have a share in the battle, and join in the rout. But victory was already assured. Saul was not needed; indeed, later we find what a hindrance he was.
One writer reads the hiding in Ephraim as a picture of a soul choked by the world. He finds the same pattern in the call of Matthew.
Passing from there Jesus sees a man named Matthew, a soul already made alive… but held back, hidden, and choked (1 Sam. 14:22) by the deceitfulness of riches, the cares of this life, and the power of the world (= Ephraim, the fruitfulness of the earth). With one word He frees him in an instant from all his enemies. He says, "Follow me," and leaving everything he gets up and follows Him. So from that time he too becomes a striker of the Philistines, along with many others like him (Matt. 9:9-10), "following hard after them in the battle."
- Two names. Those who joined the enemy are called Hebrews. The frightened who stayed in their place are still called men of Israel.
- Remembered. God knew what these feeble ones were made of, and remembered that they were dust.
- Renamed. Those who had only given in to fear won back the name of honour when they returned to ways that suited Israel.
- Rescued. A work of God does more than rout an enemy. It calls back the scattered sheep — from among the Philistines and from the hills.
- The Lord's victory. Saul rushed in to share a battle already won. The day belonged to the Lord, and God is most pleased with the few who stood with Him when it cost them something.
And Jehovah saved Israel that day; and the battle passed over beyond Beth-Aven.
Two men climbed a rock alone, panic swept the Philistine camp, and the fighting rolled on past Beth-aven. The verse hands the whole day's credit to the LORD — so who really won it, and what did Israel do with it?
The verse does not say Jonathan saved Israel, though he struck the first blow. One writer ties this back to what Jonathan said before he climbed: God can save by many or by few.
The victory was assured before the battle began. After the battle was won, the people rightly judged that Jonathan "worked with God." So the Philistines were powerless. They fell "before Jonathan; and his armour-bearer killed after him." But if Jonathan worked with God, God also worked with His servant. He sent a trembling into the camp, in the field, and among all the people. The garrison and the raiders trembled too, and the earth quaked. It was a very great trembling. The battle was the LORD's; faith recognised it, and the LORD Himself secured the outcome. Nothing held Him back, as Jonathan had confessed, from saving by many or by few. Whether by many or few, it is always His own right hand and His holy arm that wins Him the victory.
The two men killed twenty. Yet the verse counts that day as the rescue of a nation, and one writer treats this as the normal pattern of faith.
So Jonathan climbs up unarmed. In his mind he is only the representative of the true Israel against the world. The weapons his young man carries behind him serve only to confirm the LORD's victory. The enemies are terrified. That is the result of this victory: on the face of it a victory over twenty men, but in reality over an entire people. It is often like this. We only have to enter the conflict right in front of us. Whether it is against one enemy or a thousand matters little. God directs the results, and they will go beyond everything man expects or imagines.
The place names matter. Michmash was where Saul had lost his nerve before the Philistine army. That is where the rout began.
They had to strike first; then God acted, and trembling seized the army of Philistia. But where did this happen? Just where Saul had been afraid of his opponents. At Michmash, east of Beth-aven, the Philistines had terrified Saul and Israel simply by being there. On the day of Jonathan's victory the battle passed from Michmash over to Beth-aven, and Israel struck them from Michmash to Aijalon. At Ebenezer, where Israel had lost the ark, the Philistines were subdued later on. In the same way, where Saul had been afraid of them, Jonathan won a victory for the people by his faith in God. He did not fight them under better conditions, as men would say. The position was unchanged. But faith in God sees things as God sees them, and Jonathan went forward to victory counting on God's power.
The name Beth-aven has a meaning of its own, and Hosea uses it again later.
A place or "wilderness" of Benjamin near Bethel. It is said to be east of Bethel. But in Hosea the name seems to be given to Bethel itself, which was no longer the "house of God" but the "house of vanity," because of the idols there.
The saving of that day did more than defeat an army.
How good it is to see the results of a work of God like this! Not only is the enemy overthrown, but the poor scattered sheep of Israel are called back. Many of them were captives, or willing servants, of the Philistines. Many had also hidden themselves in the mountains, afraid to face the enemy. But they hear of a victory, and rally to the LORD's standard.
Those returning men were no braver than before. The difference was where the strength came from.
We must not despise numbers. Pride may lurk in the hearts of a few as well as among the many. The strength of Jonathan and his armour-bearer was not in themselves. Their faith laid hold on God. Apart from that they were as feeble as any of these fugitives. And these in their turn can be Jonathans, if only they lay hold of the same One who worked that day.
The verse marks a complete rout. But later in the chapter Saul's own command cost Israel much of what God had given.
The rout was complete. But Saul's unreasonable and foolish ban robbed the nation of much of the fruit of God's miraculous action on their behalf.
- Faith strikes. Jonathan and his armour-bearer struck first. The trembling in the Philistine camp came after.
- God saves. The credit goes to the LORD, whose own arm secured the outcome — whether He uses many or few.
- Reach expands. A blow against twenty men became the rescue of a nation, because God, not the fighter, directs the results.
- Ground reclaimed. The rout began right where Saul had been afraid, and ran on past Beth-aven, "the house of vanity."
- Fruit lost. Deserters and hiders rallied to the victory, but Saul's foolish command robbed Israel of much of what God had given.