1 Samuel 14:1–46

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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 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.

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 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?

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 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.

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.

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.

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 Spirit of God notices for our instruction the immense difficulties in the way.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The sharp rocks of Bozez and Seneh raise their unclimbable peaks opposite Michmash and Gibeah. To faith they are nothing.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Genuine faith speaks simply. God uses it to work on the souls of others, as He does here on the armour-bearer.

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.

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.

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"?

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.

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.

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).

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.

"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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

So there is not only the courage of faith, but also the counting on God.

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 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, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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."

"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 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.

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?

"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.

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.

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.

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."

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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!

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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!

Fear and trembling fall on the host, and the earth trembles and quakes, for God Himself is there: the victory is already accomplished.

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 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.

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."

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

"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.

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 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!

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

It was clear for anyone who had eyes to see that it was not man, but the Lord Himself who saved Israel that day.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

How sorrowful in such a day of blessing and victory to see the king spoiling it! … The only part he contributed was to trouble, upset and hold back the people of Israel — most of all the man who deserved best of all. Such is the effect where unbelief meddles in the day that faith reaps good things from God.

He had no part at all in starting the victorious drive. He stayed in the outskirts of Gibeah under the pomegranate tree at Migron — hiding from the enemy, some think. But when the Philistines are already beaten and in full flight, he pushes himself into the scene. In a petty temper he interferes with the pursuit, giving a senseless command with an illegal penalty attached.

There is not a word about the Lord's grace. His feeling is, "that I may be avenged on my enemies." This was what Saul's heart was set upon. Where was his old modesty now? … Under him the people were no longer linked with God, even in name. Grace had worked outside him to bring about this great deliverance. Yet all it came to for Saul was Saul avenged on Saul's enemies.

The faith was indeed their own, but they acted for and with the nation that God owned as His. Saul was completely without this feeling. That is why his words here are "my enemies."

His first act was to curse any man of Israel who ate food before evening. He could not have found a better way to weaken them. As soon as Jonathan heard of it, he saw that his father was out of step with the mind of God. He was troubling the people, not helping them. Where did this decree come from? From the written word of God defining the duties of a king in Israel (Deuteronomy 17)? It was against the spirit of it. From Samuel? He never consulted him. From the priest before the ark? He would not wait there for an answer.

Rules set up by the world are bound to weaken those who submit to them. Such rules always have a legal character… "Cursed" — isn't that the law? "That I may be avenged" — isn't that the flesh and man? What a contrast to Jonathan, who sees in the victory only the salvation of the Lord for His people!

He had nothing to do with the defeat of the Philistines, yet he curses any of his soldiers who eat food that whole day until evening… How did he expect them to keep their strength for the battle? It is the same principle as telling the Lord's servant to fight the Lord's battles, but not to feed on the Word of God first!

Poor Saul! Even his religion is a gloomy, selfish thing… All rule-keeping religion is like this. Self is the centre, not God. And where that is so, what is left but gloom? And its misery and discomfort is all that such a soul has to share with others.

By his own admission it served his own ends — "that I may be avenged on my enemies." Sadly, self was the glass through which he saw everything. His enemies were not hurt at all; they used the curse to get safely away. The whole weight of it fell on Jonathan. When has a curse of the flesh not fallen on the spiritual?

Saul's ban leads to further evil. The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last on the plunder. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood, in plain disobedience to God's command. So an over-strict restriction ends in loss of all restraint, and forcing an arbitrary human rule on people leads to breaking God's command. These things happen this way often enough.

The people are passing through a wood full of honey. It is right at hand, just lying in their path. Jonathan, without taking his eye off the enemy, dips his staff in the honey, tastes it, and the honey refreshes him. With new strength he can speed after the fleeing enemy.

How sad, on such a day of blessing and victory, to see the king spoiling it! The only part he contributed was to trouble and distress and hinder the people of Israel — and most of all the man who deserved best of all. That is what happens when unbelief meddles on the day faith is reaping good things from God. Saul made the people swear that anyone who ate food before evening would be cursed, so that he could take revenge on his enemies. There is not a word about the Lord's grace.

So he makes the power of the Lord's name work against the very thing he wants to do. As far as he can, he limits the effect of what he had no part in producing. He can meddle and spoil, though he cannot make.

Honey pictures natural things and their sweetness. Using them in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan, we must touch them only with the end of the rod and take a little. If Jonathan had knelt down and filled himself with all the honey he could eat, it would not have refreshed him. It would have left him unfit for the fight.

Honey pictures the ministry of the Word of God. Worker bees digest the nectar before they store the honey for the use of the whole hive. In the same way, believers think over the Word and digest it before they give it to others. A little of this sweetness can be a wonderful help in strengthening the souls of God's people for battle.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it is completely free. Whatever God puts in its path, faith can take with thanks and go on. Meanwhile a merely natural zeal, which only imitates faith and never works with God, makes a duty of refusing it. If Jonathan had not been busy heart and soul in the Lord's work, he might have stopped to think about the honey. As it is, he simply takes it for refreshment and passes on.

We need to watch that we are not brought under the power of lawful things (1 Corinthians 6:12). But here everyone must judge for himself what helps and what hinders. It is grace alone that enables, and not law.

Saul's ban leads to more evil. The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last on the plunder. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood still in them, in plain disobedience to God's command. So a needless restriction leads to loose living, and forcing an arbitrary human rule on people leads to breaking God's own command. Things often work out this way.

In the name of conscience, an unhealthy self-righteousness can press its demands on yourself and on others, until groaning and bondage take the place of liberty and joy.

Honey is a good thing naturally, in a world where God made all things good, and He did not begrudge the sweet honeycomb in a land flowing with milk and honey. He took pleasure in providing good things freely for man, though He knew man would abuse them all.

There is not a word about the Lord's grace. His feeling is that he may be avenged on his enemies. That is what Saul's heart was set on. Where was his old modesty now? He had been in power only a little while, and already all thought of God was gone. Through him the people were no longer connected with God, even in name. Grace had worked outside him to bring about this great deliverance. Yet it was merely Saul being avenged on Saul's enemies.

His first act was to put a curse on any man of Israel who ate food before evening: he could not have devised a more effective way of weakening them. Where did this decree come from? From the written word of God defining the duties of a king in Israel? It was against the spirit of it. From Samuel? He never consulted him. From the priest before the ark? He would not wait there for an answer... The whole weight of it fell on Jonathan, who did not hear the order when it was given, and who dipped the end of his rod in a honeycomb and put his hand to his mouth.

Saul's oath was unnecessary and made in self-will. His oath is simply the working of the natural man. In his blindness he thinks he can help bring about the complete defeat of the enemy by his legal order. Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress; legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God... But a worse result of Saul's command followed. The starving people ate meat with the blood in it. So Saul's restriction of a lawful thing led to the breaking of a divine commandment.

Jonathan knew what he should do, and he took some honey. He went on in liberty, for God was with him. Saul, by his legalism, put himself and the people into bondage.

His was the simple, happy path of faith that never hesitates. It counts on God, and on His faithful connection with His people. It walks in the blessed liberty of taking the refreshment He may give along the way — liberty for refreshment, not for loose living. Meanwhile the flesh makes its solemn resolutions not to touch, not to taste, not to handle. Then, when the occasion suits, it sets aside the authority of God.

Honey is the sweetness of natural things, which are not to be sternly forbidden to the people of God, though they are to be kept in their proper place. The world is a place of warfare for the Christian. He is not to get entangled in the affairs of this life, so that he may please Him who chose him to be a soldier. We need to watch that we are not brought under the power of lawful things.

By his own admission it was to serve his own ends — "until it is evening and I am avenged on my enemies." Sadly, he saw everything through the lens of self. It did not hurt his enemies; they used it to make good their retreat, and its whole weight fell on Jonathan... When has a curse of the flesh not fallen on the spiritual? And when has there been a greater show of religiousness than in enforcing it?

Saul's oath was unnecessary and made in self-will. Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress; legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it is completely free. Whatever God puts in its way, it can thankfully use, taking it and going on. Meanwhile the zeal of the flesh, which only imitates faith and never works with God, makes a duty of refusing it. Had Jonathan not been occupied heart and soul in the Lord's work, he might have stopped to think about the honey. As it is, he simply takes it for refreshment and passes on. The energy of faith carries him clean out of the knowledge of the oath.

Honey is a picture of natural things and their sweetness. Using them in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan, we must touch them only with the end of the rod, and take a little. If Jonathan had knelt down and filled himself with all the honey he could eat, it would not have refreshed him. It would have left him unfit for the fight. The little honey he had taken revived him, while the people fainted.

A soul that is free can enjoy much in nature without spiritual damage... scenery, the beauties of nature, the physical rest we need, and much else, can truly refresh the Lord's weary people. "If you have found honey, eat only enough for you." This is the divine rule... We are to use it, not abuse it, and never let it gain power over us. Here grace and the Holy Spirit alone can guide and check us.

With the end of his rod he dipped honey from a honeycomb. As he ate it, his eyes became bright, which certainly involves a revival of strength. Honey is a picture of the ministry of the Word of God... A little of this sweetness can wonderfully strengthen the souls of God's people for conflict. Is it not often true that a little God-given ministry brightens our eyes — ministry from someone who has first digested the truth he passes on?

The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last on the spoil. They slaughter sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood, in plain disobedience to the divine command. So an excessive restriction leads to licence, and an arbitrary human rule leads to the breaking of God's rule. This is how such things often happen.

Jonathan was in the secret of the Lord, but he was not part of the oath with which Saul had bound the people. Saul did not know what was between God and his own son. In the same way, Jonathan was an outsider to his father's solemn charge, so he broke it without meaning to.

Then Jonathan is told of the curse his father had pronounced. But the report adds a pointed notice: "and the people were faint." Jonathan sees that his father had troubled the land. His own eating of the honey proved his father wrong. He rightly replies that if the people had been allowed to eat the spoil taken from the enemy, they would have had strength to win a much greater victory. In a straight line the distance they covered that day was between fifteen and twenty miles, and their route was probably not straight, since they were fighting along the way. Of course they were extremely faint when evening came.

Their king lacks even the basics of religion. He knows nothing to do but set up an ordinance of the flesh, and it robs the people of God of a good part of their strength. Ordinances set up by the world are bound to weaken those who submit to them. They always have a legal character. Saul's oath said, "Cursed be the man who eats food until evening, and until I am avenged on my enemies." "Cursed" — is that not the law? "Until I am avenged" — is that not the flesh and man?

Jonathan's faith acts without consulting flesh and blood: as the people said, he had worked with God. The people did not know that he was absent. Happy Jonathan! Faith had carried him so far ahead that he did not even hear the senseless curse his father called down on anyone who tasted food. Another man's foolish unbelief did not reach him. As he went along, he was free to take the kindness of his God with joy and thanksgiving. He continued on his way refreshed and encouraged.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it has full liberty. Whatever God puts in its path it can use with thanks, taking it and going on. But the zeal of the flesh, which only imitates faith and never works with God, makes a duty of refusing it.

Honey is the type of natural things and their sweetness. Their use in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan we must touch them only with the end of the rod and take a little. Suppose Jonathan had gone down on his knees and filled himself with all the honey he could eat. It would not have refreshed him. It would have left him unfit for the conflict.

Saul's solemn charge was unnecessary and made in self-will. His oath is nothing but the working of the natural man. … Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress. Legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God. … But a worse result of Saul's command followed. The starving people ate meat with the blood. So Saul's restriction of a lawful thing led to the breaking of a divine commandment.

There is great apparent energy, it is true, but it is not from the Spirit of God. So when he joins in the flow of victory, he is really only a troubler. He distresses Israel and hinders the pursuit. It is a selfish zeal that comes from human nature.

This troubler of Israel turned what should have been a day of joy and gladness for the people into a day of distress and disappointment. Saul of Tarsus, who bore the same name long after, was a man in a raging fury. This Saul says, "I am avenged on my enemies." He does not say "Israel's enemies," or "the enemies of the Lord." It is "I" and "mine," as if he were everything — the State and all — and the Lord and His people nothing.

Honey pictures natural things and their sweetness. Using them in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan, we must touch them only with the end of the rod and take a little. If Jonathan had knelt down and filled himself with all the honey he could eat, it would not have refreshed him. It would have left him unfit for the fight.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it is completely free. Whatever God puts in its way it can take with thanks, and go on. The merely human zeal that only imitates faith, and never works with God, makes a duty of refusing it. If Jonathan had not been taken up heart and soul with the Lord's work, he might have stopped to think about the honey. As it is, he simply takes it for refreshment and passes on.

His own eating of the honey proved his father wrong. He is right, then, to answer that the people would have had strength for a much greater victory if Saul had let them eat the spoil taken from the enemy. They covered between fifteen and twenty miles that day, if they went straight there. They likely did not, since they were fighting along the way.

The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last on the plunder. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood, in plain disobedience to God's command. So a restriction that goes too far leads to people throwing off all restraint. A human rule imposed at will leads to breaking God's rule. These things happen often enough in this way.

Jonathan had his eyes opened by disobeying his father, since he ate some honey. David says the opposite: "the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes" (Psalm 19:8). This means that true light comes on the path of obedience to God.

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 put a curse on any man of Israel who should eat any food until the evening: a more effective way of weakening them he could not have devised. On hearing of it, Jonathan saw at once that his father was not acting in agreement with the mind of God. He was troubling the people, not helping them. Where did this decree come from? ... By his own admission, it was to serve his own ends — "That I may be avenged on my enemies." Self was the glass through which he saw everything. Sadly, instead of hurting his enemies, this curse helped them escape.

He does not say "Israel's enemies," or "the enemies of the Lord"; it is "I" and "mine," as if he were everything — the State and all — and the Lord and His people nothing.

Then Jonathan is told of the curse his father had pronounced. But added to this is the relevant note, "and the people were faint." Jonathan sees that his father had troubled the land. His own eating of the honey proved his father wrong. He is right to reply that if the people had been free to eat the spoil of the enemy, they would have had strength to win a much greater victory. They covered between fifteen and twenty miles that day by a direct route. Their actual route was likely longer, since they were fighting on the way. No wonder they were very faint by evening.

Saul's oath was unnecessary and made in self-will. It is simply the working of the natural man. In his blindness he thinks his legal restriction will help him defeat the enemy completely. Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress; legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God. His own son Jonathan, not knowing his father's command, takes a little honey on the end of the rod and is refreshed by it. Honey is the type of natural things and their sweetness. Their use in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan we must touch them only with the end of the rod and take a little. Suppose Jonathan had knelt down and filled himself with all the honey he could eat. It would not have refreshed him. It would have made him unfit for the conflict.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it has full liberty. Whatever God puts in the way it can thankfully use, taking it and going on. But carnal zeal is only an imitation of faith, and it never works with God. It makes a duty of refusing what God gives. ... Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. Saul has put both himself and the people under this miserable restraint. If the flesh puts itself under bondage, it must keep its oath. So the restraint leads them into sin.

The result of Jonathan's faith is that the Lord saves and works a great salvation in Israel (v. 45). The result of Saul's ordinance is that the people were distressed and very faint (vv. 24, 28, 31). The carnal ordinance soon bears its consequences. The fast and weariness laid on the people lead them to break the first principles of the Word of God. They kill sheep, oxen, and calves on the ground and eat them with the blood (v. 32).

Here Saul receives a holy rebuke from his own son, who alone was in the secret of the Lord. ... Clearly then the people's choice of a king was only a distress to the best among the people, to the faithful son of Saul himself.

Hearts and the earth are both in God's hands. Where faith is at work, He can make the bold heart lose its nerve and the ground under it shake. But note this: 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 fear gripped the army of Philistia. But where did this take place? Just where Saul had been afraid of his opponents. At Michmash, east of Beth-aven, the Philistines had completely cowed Saul and Israel simply by being there. On the day of Jonathan's victory the battle moved from Michmash across to Beth-aven, and Israel struck them from Michmash to Aijalon.

The real evil of Saul's self-made restriction soon shows. The people are faint from going so long without food, not from hard fighting. They reach the historic town of Ajalon, where Joshua once fought his long day of battle. But unlike him, they have been bound by merely human chains, and they have lost heart.

So he makes the power of the Lord's name work against the very thing he wants to do. He limits, as far as he can, the effect of something he had no part in producing. He can meddle and spoil, even if he cannot make. In his irreverence he would have God curse where He means only blessing, and he does not care where the curse falls. The people are faint, and the victory is incomplete.

It was, as Jonathan says, "My father has troubled the land… How much better if the people had eaten freely today of the spoil of their enemies that they found. For now the defeat among the Philistines has not been great." … He does not say "Israel's enemies," or "the enemies of the Lord"; it is "I" and "mine," as if he were everything — the State and all — and the Lord and His people nothing.

Saul's ban leads to further evil. The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last on the plunder. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood still in them, in plain disobedience to God's command. So a needless restriction ends in people throwing off all restraint, and forcing an arbitrary human rule on them leads to breaking God's own rule. Things often happen this way.

The fear of God has left them, and they fall on the prey and break the first principle of sacrificial law — that all blood belonged to God. This brings in real defilement. The pouring out of blood (Deuteronomy 12:23-24) was always a kind of preview of that Sacrifice of "richer blood" one day to be shed. To ignore all this is defilement indeed; and this is what harsh, merely human self-denial produces, by reaction.

See the contrast between Jonathan and Saul. On one side is confidence in God, which overcomes difficulties. On the other is self, which fails even with all the resources of royalty… Jonathan knew what he should do, and took some honey, because he walked in liberty; for God was with him. Saul, living by rules, put himself and the people into bondage.

Saul has put both himself and the people under this miserable restraint (if the flesh puts itself under bondage, it must keep its oath), and this leads them into sin. They are so hungry that when the oath expires, they rush on the cattle taken as spoil. They kill them and eat the flesh with the blood, breaking a direct command of God.

Saul's prohibition leads to further evil. The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last upon the prey. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood, in plain disobedience to God's command. So too much restriction leads to loose living. Imposing an arbitrary human rule leads to breaking God's rule — and these things often happen in this way.

Saul's solemn command was unnecessary and made in self-will. His oath is simply the working of the natural man… Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress. Legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God… But a worse result of Saul's command followed. The starving people ate meat with the blood. So Saul's restriction of a lawful thing led to the breaking of a divine commandment.

The fear of God has left them. They fall upon the prey and break the first principle of sacrificial law — that all blood belonged to God. This brings in real defilement. The pouring out of the blood always pointed forward to that Sacrifice of "richer blood" one day to be shed. To ignore all this is defilement indeed. And this is what harsh self-denial in the flesh will produce, by reaction.

The people rushed at the spoil. Because of the restriction Saul had made, they were guilty of a real sin: they ate the blood, against the law of Jehovah. "They told Saul, saying, Behold, the people sin against Jehovah." It was the natural consequence of his own misguided oath. It began with a curse on Jonathan. It ended with dragging the people into a sin against Jehovah… Nothing in the whole law was more sacred than the rule that man was not to eat blood.

As soon as Saul lifted his curse at evening, the people killed the animals they had taken as spoil and ate them hungrily. They did not take time to drain the blood, as God had commanded. The news reached Saul, but he never saw that he himself had caused this disobedience to God… He could be careful in matters of this kind, while in other matters, just as serious, he could calmly ignore the rights of God.

Saul spoils it all by his foolish oath. It was said of Jonathan, "He has worked with God this day."… Jonathan knew what he should do, and took some honey, because he went on in liberty; for God was with him — while Saul, in legality, put himself and the people into bondage.

The people flew upon the spoil. Because of the restriction he had made, they were guilty of a real sin: eating the blood, against the law of the LORD… It was the natural consequence of his own misguided oath. It began with a curse on Jonathan. It ended with dragging the people into a sin against the LORD… Nothing in the whole system of that law was more sacred than this: man was not to eat blood.

But blood was forbidden to every one of the people who knew, as no others did in ancient times, that life belongs to God. Bird or beast, it made no difference — all was forbidden… Eating blood denied the rights of God, the Creator. Even if man forfeited his own rights by sin, the LORD kept His title over life untouched… Long after the Holy Spirit was given, and long after non-Jews were told they need not be circumcised, eating blood was still forbidden, and personal purity still commanded. The Christian is the last person who should make light of a "faithful Creator." The principles laid down for Noah are not Jewish statutes, and they continue: so the apostles decided in Acts 15.

They fall upon the prey. They break the first principle of sacrificial law — that all blood belonged to God. This brings in real defilement. The pouring out of blood (Deut. 12:23-24) was always a picture of that Sacrifice of "richer blood" one day to be shed.

Someone reported this to Saul. He never saw that he himself had caused this disobedience to God. He told the people, "You have dealt treacherously," and made them roll a great stone to him, clearly a place to slaughter the animals on. Then the order went round the people: bring your animals to Saul, kill them there, and make sure the blood is shed. He could be careful in matters of this kind, while in other matters, just as serious, he could calmly ignore the rights of God.

Saul's prohibition leads to further evil. The starving people, wild with hunger, fall at last upon the prey. They kill sheep and oxen and eat them with the blood, in plain disobedience to God's command. So an undue restriction leads to license. A human rule, set up at will, leads to breaking God's rule — and it often happens this way.

His was the simple, happy path of faith that never hesitates. It counts on God and on His faithful bond with His people. It walks in the blessed liberty of taking the refreshment He may give along the way — liberty for refreshment, not for license. Meanwhile the flesh makes its solemn resolutions not to touch, not to taste, not to handle. Then, when the moment suits, it sets aside the authority of God.

Saul does not want things to go this far. He does not want Israel to break God's command. "You have dealt treacherously," he says (v. 33); "do not sin against the LORD by eating with the blood" (v. 34). But can softening it now repair the evil he stirred up? Then Saul builds his first altar to the LORD (v. 35) on the very spot this sin had defiled. He chose to worship where the Lord had been dishonoured!

The people flew upon the spoil. Because of the restriction he had made, they were guilty of a real sin: eating the blood, against the law of the LORD. "They told Saul, 'Behold, the people are sinning against the LORD.'" It was the natural consequence of his own misguided oath. It began with a curse on Jonathan, and it ended with dragging the people into a sin against the LORD.

Saul's oath was unnecessary and made in self-will. In his blindness he thinks he can help along the complete defeat of the enemy by his legal order. Because of this foolish oath the people were in distress. Legalism always puts burdens and distress on the people of God… But a worse result of Saul's command followed. The famished people ate meat with the blood. So Saul's restriction of a lawful thing led to the breaking of a divine commandment.

In Israel, eating blood provoked the LORD's jealousy, so that He cut off the offender… It denied that man owes the forfeited life to God. Man had to give God His due in a solemn way — if not on the altar, then at least by pouring the blood out on the ground, instead of keeping it for his own pleasure. Death was a serious thing. The LORD would not let anyone make light of it, even when He allowed His people to eat the flesh of animals killed for food. But He required them, on pain of their own death, to honour His claim on the blood as the sign of life given up to God, never to be food for man.

They fall upon the prey and violate the first principle of sacrificial law — that all blood belonged to God. This brings in genuine defilement. The pouring out of blood (Deut. 12:23-24) always pointed forward to that Sacrifice of "richer blood" still to come. To ignore all this is defilement indeed. And this is just what self-denial in the flesh produces, as a backlash.

Saul does not want things to go so far and does not want Israel to act contrary to the divine ordinance. "You have dealt treacherously," he says (v. 33); "do not sin against the LORD by eating with the blood" (v. 34). But can he cover the evil over and so cure it, when he stirred it up himself? Then Saul builds his first altar to the LORD (v. 35) on the very ground where this defilement happened. He chooses to worship where the people had dishonoured the Lord!

Notice also that all the forms of piety and of Jewish religion are with Saul: "the LORD's priest in Shiloh (1 Sam. 14:3), wearing an ephod," and the ark (v. 18). He consults with the priest. He prevents their eating flesh with 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.

Had Jonathan not been taken up heart and soul with the LORD's work, he might have stopped to think about the honey; as it is, he merely takes it for refreshment and passes on… Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. Saul has put both himself and the people under this miserable restraint, and the result is that they are led into sin.

When this was done he "built an altar to the LORD." And the Holy Spirit adds a pointed word: "it was the first altar that he built to the LORD." Was it not a long time before he set about it? And was it not a very sad thing too? On that very day the king brought his own son, the one most blessed by the LORD, under a sentence of death. On that same day he also led the people into sin against one of the most basic principles of God's law. Nothing in its whole system was more sacred than the rule that a man was not to eat blood.

The rule Saul made in the flesh soon bears its consequences. The fasting and exhaustion he forced on the people lead them to break the first principles of the Word of God. They kill sheep, oxen and calves on the ground and eat them with the blood (v. 32). Saul does not want things to go so far... But can he cure the evil he stirred up simply by softening it? Then, in the very place where God's name had been treated as common, Saul builds his first altar to the LORD (v. 35) — choosing to worship where the Lord had been dishonoured!

Saul here, at least on the outside, wants to keep God's order, and he calls the people back to the sacredness of blood. It is in this connection too that he builds his first altar.

At this time Saul built his first altar to the Lord. But why did he do so? Was it not because he had been avenged on HIS enemies? It was not for the sake of God's own glory among His people Israel. It was rather because he thought God had backed up his own self-importance in this victory. Is this not just childish reasoning?

Saul puts up his first altar because he feels the need. Or perhaps less than that: he only fears the judgment of God.

All the religious activity, all the forms of piety, are with Saul. He has the ark and the priest. He makes the vow to go without food. He shows zeal for religious rules. He stops the people eating flesh with the blood. He builds his altar after others have won the blessing, and takes the credit himself. He can be religious when he has comfort and blessing. But he never turns to God in faith, so as to go through difficulties with God.

The king still kept up the forms of religion. He built an altar — the first he ever built to the LORD — and told the priest to ask God about going on after the Philistines. When God ignored him, he suspected God was displeased somewhere. But he was so far from God that it never entered his mind that he himself was the offender. How deceitful the flesh is!

He becomes quite bold once he knows the Philistines are defeated. He proposes that they chase them by night, to finish what his senseless ban had blocked. The people were not enthusiastic, telling him to do what seemed good to him. How different their words were from 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 inquire of God.

Saul builds now an altar to the LORD: he has need of Him, and formally acknowledges Him. He desires and proposes still to pursue the Philistines, and gains the consent of the people. It is the priest who urges that God must be consulted first.

The priest who earlier had withdrawn his hand (v. 19) nevertheless has the courage to say: "Let us draw near to God here" (v. 36). Saul inquires of the LORD who does not answer him.

But the end of self-righteousness has not been reached. God has yet to put His finger on the folly of this oath of Saul. The king proposes, and the people agree. But the priest suggests turning to God and seeking His mind. "Let us draw near to God here" — surely a good word for us at all times.

In 1 Samuel 14:37 we read that Saul "inquired of God." But we are not told how he did it. We only learn from 1 Samuel 14:36 that the priest said, "Let us draw near to God here"; and from 1 Samuel 14:3 that Ahiah, the son of Ahitub, was the LORD's priest in Shiloh, "wearing an ephod." Later, in 1 Samuel 23:9, David says to Abiathar, "Bring the ephod here." Then David inquired, and the LORD answered him.

See the contrast between Jonathan and Saul (1 Samuel 14). On one side is confidence in God that overcomes difficulties. On the other is 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. He may well have had a right intention. But he certainly did not simply depend on God when he asked what he should do. And he spoils it all by his foolish oath.

And now God speaks — first by silence. It matters more to Him that His people are right in their hearts than that they pursue their enemies. They knew this silence meant that some offense had been committed. Saul rightly connects it with the oath he had imposed on the people.

Power and the presence of the Lord are no longer with Saul, though the priest and the ephod are with him.

Saul's watchmen reported the commotion, but the king did not know what lay behind it. Neither did the priest. At the king's order he brought the ark there and began to inquire of God, but no answer came. God had no interest in these religious formalists. He was working entirely apart from them, as He has often done, right down to our own day.

Saul now builds an altar to the Lord. He needs Him, and he acknowledges Him in a formal way. He still wants to chase the Philistines, he proposes it, and the people agree. It is the priest who urges that they must ask God first. So Saul asks whether he should go down after the Philistines, and his proud spirit chafes when no answer comes.

Their king lacks even the basics of religion. All he knows how to do is set up a rule of the flesh, and it robs the people of God of much of their strength. Rules the world sets up are bound to weaken those who submit to them, because they always have a legal character: "Cursed be the man who eats food until evening, and until I am avenged on my enemies" (v. 24). "Cursed" — isn't that the law? "That I may be avenged" — isn't that the flesh and man?

Yes, the intervention of the flesh is only a source of trouble and a hindrance to victory.

But God gave no answer to Saul's questioning. He surely had a wise reason for this. He let events run on as they did to show Saul one thing: being king did not mean he could do as he pleased. The people had to see that Saul was wrong. If he had taken this to heart, the rest of his story might have been different. Instead he ignored the many danger signs God put in his way.

God lets everything in this affair run to its extreme, and it all ends in Saul's humiliation. He asks for "a perfect testimony" (v. 41); finally he receives it, but the response condemns all the king's actions. Saul himself sees nothing but Jonathan's condemnation! This is how the flesh interprets the Word of God.

A man who lives in self-will and disobedience, and who does not know God or His will, cannot hope to have God's ear. He may be religious. He may make a great show of trying to do what is right. All the while he is full of his own thoughts, and seeks God only for his own ends. Only when the heart and conscience are right before God can man know God, and know His will.

But there was no answer from God. So Saul knew that a real hindrance stood in the way. He thinks only of himself, and tries to find out who the guilty person was. God is righteous. It was a wrong thing to have brought in an oath that blocked the effects of the victory. Even so, God did not refuse to show clearly who had sinned against the oath... Little did he know what his rash vow had brought on his son.

At a moment of obvious outward blessing Saul must build an altar and make much of Jehovah's name... But note the pointed comment of the Holy Spirit: this was the first altar he ever built to Jehovah... So he appeals to the God of Israel to discover the hidden sin that is holding things up. God does act — but only to show the folly of the king.

Saul decided that God did not answer him because someone had sinned. So he used Joshua's method in the case of Achan to find the offender... Actually his own prohibition had been sin. Jonathan's eating of the honey was not sin at all.

He realizes that there has been sin somewhere. He seems to guess that it lies in the breaking of his own rash prohibition... Yet the thought does not crush him, and he shows no repentance for his reckless haste. Instead he boils over in a furious vow by Jehovah: if the sin were in Jonathan himself, Jonathan should die. The people gaze at him speechless.

Rules set up by the world are bound to weaken those who submit to them. They always have a legal character: "Cursed be the man who eats food until evening, and until I am avenged on my enemies." "Cursed": isn't that the law? "That I may be avenged": isn't that the flesh and man? What a contrast to Jonathan, who sees only the salvation of the Lord for His people in the victory!

Sadly, self was the lens he saw everything through. His enemies were not hurt by the curse; they used it to get safely away. The whole weight of it fell on Jonathan... When has a curse of the flesh not fallen on the spiritual? And when has there been a greater display of religiousness than when enforcing it?

But clearly the authority of the king was broken, and God's name was not to be profaned, even unknowingly. Though he did not know it, Jonathan was guilty... But that day made it clearer than ever: the king of their choice was a useless burden. He was also a distress to Israel and a dishonour to Jehovah.

Faith is so taken up with its work, and has such a sense of God's love and grace, that it is completely free. Whatever God puts in its path, it can take with thanks and go on. Fleshly zeal is only an imitation of faith, and it never works with God. It makes a duty out of refusing what God gives.

By his own admission it was to serve his own ends: "I am avenged on my enemies." Sadly, self was the glass he saw everything through. His enemies were not hurt. They used this curse to make good their retreat, and the whole weight of it fell on Jonathan, who did not hear when the charge was given.

And now God speaks — first of all by silence. It shows that He cares more about His people being right in their hearts than about their pursuit of their enemies. The silence meant, as they knew, that someone had committed an offence, and Saul rightly connects it with the oath he had imposed on the people. But he did not yet know who the guilty person was, nor how. Like Jephthah of old, he is ready to sacrifice his child, and persuade himself he is pleasing God.

He must have suspected Jonathan strongly. He declared that if the sin was in Jonathan, he would surely die. In fact his own ban had been sin. Jonathan's eating of the honey was not sin at all. But God did not bring matters out in this way. Rather, in response to the casting of lots, God had Jonathan taken, in line with Saul's idea of what sin was.

At a moment of obvious outward blessing Saul must build an altar and make much of the Lord's name. He had professed to seek counsel at the ark in the same way earlier. He builds his altar. But notice the pointed comment of the Holy Spirit: "it was the first altar that he built to the LORD." ... The Lord does act, yet only to show up the folly of the king.

It was a wrong thing to bring in such an oath, and it blocked the effects of the victory. Even so, God, being righteous, did not refuse to make clear who had sinned against the oath... "though it be in Jonathan my son, he shall surely die." Little did he know what his rash vow had brought on his son.

Saul made a great show of zeal for God in passing the death sentence on his son; but the people intervened and rescued him. They said to Saul, "Shall Jonathan die, who has worked this great salvation in Israel? ... he has worked with God this day." Saul was saved from a great sin, but at the expense of his authority.

Zeal like this has no discernment of God's will and no mercy on those who are clearly with Him. It turns victory into defeat. It goes so far that it shames God-given authority in public. It turns joy into mourning and anger. We need not go back to Israel's history for examples of this: our own hearts will supply them. Oh, in how many homes has this harsh legalism broken God-given authority!

Their king, who lacks even the basics of religion, knows how to do nothing but set up a carnal rule that strips God's people of a good part of their strength. "Cursed be the man that eats food until evening, and until I am avenged on my enemies" (v. 24). "Cursed" — isn't that the law? "That I may be avenged" — isn't that the flesh and man? What a contrast to Jonathan, who sees in the victory only the Lord's salvation for His people!

Saul decided that God did not answer him because someone had sinned, so he adopted Joshua's method in the case of Achan (Josh. 7:16-18) to find the offender. But he ignored the question of the tribes: instead he put all the people on one side and only himself and Jonathan on the other. He must have strongly suspected Jonathan, since he declared that if the sin lay in Jonathan he would surely die. In fact his own prohibition had been the sin.

He realises that there has been sin somewhere, and guesses that it lies in the breaking of his own rash prohibition. He even imagines that the offender may be Jonathan, perhaps because Jonathan was away when the order was spoken. Yet the thought does not crush him to the dust, and he shows no repentance for his reckless haste. Instead he boils over in a furious vow by Jehovah that if the sin were in Jonathan himself, he should die. The people gaze at him speechless.

Alas for Saul's measure of right and wrong, limited to his own command and his curse on breaking it. How low a man must have fallen whose zeal is not for the holiness or the ways of God, but reduced to mere consistency with his own rashness! The laws of the Medes and Persians around Darius led him to throw Daniel into the lions' den. Herod's birthday, his oath to Herodias, and consistency in front of the captains at dinner with him all led to one thing. They brought in John the Baptist's head on a platter.

God allows everything in this affair to run to its extreme and to end in Saul's humbling. He asks for "a perfect testimony" (v. 41); at last he receives it, but the answer condemns everything the king has done. Saul himself sees nothing in it but Jonathan's condemnation! This is how the flesh interprets the Word of God. The Lord protects His faithful servant, while the king according to the flesh is judged.

But clearly the king's authority was broken. No one was to dishonour God's name, even unknowingly. Though he did not know it, Jonathan was guilty. But it was only the clearer that day that the king of their choice was not only a useless burden, but a distress to Israel and a dishonour to Jehovah.

And now God speaks — first of all by silence. It shows that He cares more that His people be right in their hearts than that they chase their enemies. They knew what the silence meant: someone had done wrong. Saul is right to link it with the oath he had forced on the people. But he did not yet know who was guilty, or how. Like Jephthah before him, he is ready to sacrifice his child and convince himself he is pleasing God.

Saul asks the Lord, and the Lord does not answer him. God lets everything in this affair run to its extreme end and lead to Saul's humiliation. He asks for "a perfect testimony" (v. 41). In the end he gets it, but the answer condemns everything the king has done. Saul himself sees nothing but Jonathan's condemnation! This is how the flesh interprets the Word of God.

The Lord indeed acts, yet it is only to manifest the folly of the king; the "perfect lot" is given and Jonathan is taken.

Saul decided that God did not answer him because someone had sinned. So he used Joshua's method from the case of Achan (Josh. 7:16-18) to find the offender. But he skipped the step of testing the tribes. He put all the people on one side and only himself and Jonathan on the other. His suspicion must have fallen hard on Jonathan, since he declared that if the sin was in Jonathan he would surely die. In fact his own ban had been the sin. Jonathan's eating of the honey was not sin at all. But God did not bring things out that way. In answer to the casting of lots, God had Jonathan taken — in line with Saul's idea of what sin was.

This witness was true. But the king's authority was plainly broken, and God's name must not be profaned, even unknowingly. Jonathan was guilty, though he did not know it… Yet that day made it all the clearer that the king of their choice was not only a useless burden, but a distress to Israel and a dishonour to the Lord.

How sad that Saul's sense of right and wrong went no further than his own command and his curse on anyone who broke it. How low a man has fallen when his zeal is not for the holiness or the ways of God, but shrinks to mere consistency with his own rash words! Darius, and the laws of the Medes and Persians around him, led him to throw Daniel into the lions' den. Herod's birthday, his oath to Herodias, and his wish to stay consistent in front of the officers dining with him, ended in John the Baptist's head being brought in on a platter.

As to this particular matter the guilty stand on one side, the innocent on the other, and the just Judge is to decide. Which will He — does He — has He chosen to die? The just One for the unjust! The innocent for the guilty — Jonathan for Israel and Saul, "for Jonathan was taken."… Yet if He is called on to choose like this, the God of love and grace will take the innocent One and spare the guilty crowd. He will use the very unbelief of man to make a glorious display of His love and righteousness.

God approved this in the Old Testament, while Israel stood before Him. He will approve it again when Israel comes back on the scene in the last days. Certainly, once God's assembly existed, the lot disappears.

Saul decided that God did not answer him because someone had sinned, so he adopted the method Joshua used in the case of Achan to find the offender. But he ignored the question of the tribes; instead he put all the people on one side and only himself and Jonathan on the other. He must have strongly suspected Jonathan, since he declared that if the sin was in Jonathan he would surely die. In fact his own prohibition had been sin. Jonathan's eating of the honey was not sin at all. But God did not bring matters out that way. Rather, in response to the casting of lots, God had Jonathan taken, in line with Saul's idea of what sin was.

Through the priest, Saul asks God about pursuing the Philistines — "but he did not answer him that day." So he tries, by an appeal to the God of Israel, to uncover the hidden sin that was holding things up. The Lord does act, yet only to show up the folly of the king. The clear decision comes, and Jonathan is taken.

Bringing in an oath that blocked the full effect of the victory was a wrong thing to do. Yet God is righteous, and He did not refuse to make plain the person who had sinned against that oath... Little did he know what his rash vow had brought on his own son.

Self was the glass through which, sadly, Saul saw everything. His enemies were not hurt by it. They used this curse to get away safely, and the whole weight of it fell on Jonathan, "who had not heard when his father laid the oath on the people." When has a curse of the flesh not fallen on the spiritual? And when has there been a greater show of religiousness than in enforcing it?

Alas for Saul's measure of right and wrong, limited to his own command and his curse on breaking it. How low a man must have sunk! His zeal is not for God's holiness or God's ways. It has shrunk to being consistent with his own rashness. The laws of the Medes and Persians around Darius led him to throw Daniel into the lions' den. Herod kept his oath to Herodias to save face in front of the officers at his birthday table. It ended with John the Baptist's head brought in on a platter.

The people's testimony was true. But this plainly broke the king's authority, and no one was to treat God's name lightly, even without meaning to. Though Jonathan did not know it, he was guilty. Saul had pledged his word in the most solemn way: the offender would die, even if it turned out to be his own son. And it was certain, on the other hand, that the lot fell on Jonathan his son. But that day only made it plainer: the king they had chosen was not merely useless deadweight. He was a distress to Israel and a dishonour to the Lord.

How beautifully Jonathan appears here! He does not accuse his father, and he does not complain about the harshness of the oath. He openly admits what he did, though he does not confess a sin. In fact, his words imply the opposite: "I tasted a little honey … here I am; I will die!" Such an end to this bright life was clearly against God's thoughts! And yet Saul is still blind.

His own son Jonathan, who knew nothing of his father's command, takes a little honey on the end of his rod and is refreshed by it. Honey pictures natural things and their sweetness. Using them in the right way is not forbidden. Like Jonathan, we must touch them only with the end of the rod, and take a little. If Jonathan had gone down on his knees and filled himself with all the honey he could eat, it would not have refreshed him. It would have left him unfit for the fight.

Achan had stolen and hidden valuable goods, knowing full well about God's curse on Jericho. Jonathan, being hungry, had eaten food that God had graciously put in his way. It was a normal and right thing to do. But Saul treated his own foolish curse as seriously as God's curse. Jonathan knew nothing about that curse. Even so, Saul uses God's name to back up his cruel declaration that Jonathan must die.

This witness was true. But the king's authority had clearly been broken, and God's name was not to be profaned, even unknowingly. Jonathan did not know about the oath, yet he was still guilty… That day made it even plainer that the king of their choice was not only a useless burden, but a distress to Israel and a dishonour to Jehovah.

His was the simple, happy path of faith that never hesitates. It counts on God, and on His faithful connection with His people. It walks in the blessed liberty of taking the refreshment He may give along the way — liberty for refreshment, not for loose living. Meanwhile the flesh makes its solemn resolutions not to touch, not to taste, not to handle. Then, when the chance comes, it sets aside the authority of God.

The famished people, wild with hunger, fell at last on the plunder. They killed sheep and oxen and ate them with the blood, in plain disobedience to God's command. So a restriction that goes too far ends in people breaking loose, and forcing an arbitrary human rule on them ends in breaking God's own command. These things happen in this way often enough.

The flesh has no discernment of God's will, and no mercy on those who are plainly with Him. It turns victory into defeat. It goes to such extremes that it shames God-given authority in public. It turns joy into mourning and anger… In how many homes has this harsh legalism broken God-given authority! And in how many cases has the very name of discipline become something foul, because of this pretence of the flesh!

It is a great thing to work with God, and it must not be confused with working for God. To work with God is to have His mind for the moment, so that the worker moves as God moves, and along the line that He marks out. We see this illustrated in the Acts of the Apostles, and it is the secret of spiritual success. This kind of discernment is the fruit of a heart exercised before God. You cannot get it any other way.

Jonathan's faith acts without asking advice from any human being: as the people said (1 Sam. 14:45), he worked with God. Happy Jonathan! Faith had led him so far ahead that he never even heard the senseless curse his father called down on anyone who tasted food. The folly of another's unbelief did not reach him.

What a poor measure of right and wrong Saul had. It stretched no further than his own command and his curse on anyone who broke it. How low a man has fallen when his zeal is not for the holiness or the ways of God, but only for staying consistent with his own rash words! Darius, and the laws of the Medes and Persians around him, led him to cast Daniel into the lions' den. Herod's birthday, his oath to Herodias, and his consistency in front of the officers dining with him — all of it ended with John the Baptist's head on a platter.

In 1 Sam. 14:45 we have the first case in Scripture of the people rising up and overruling the authority set over them. In this case we can truly say that the voice of the people was the voice of God. But to argue from this that human authority comes from the people is against the word of God. Look at the circumstances here. Saul was not God's choice. Ruin had settled down on the people. There was only one man of faith in Saul's army, and Saul would have destroyed this public witness. God will maintain the testimony for Him, and as Sovereign Ruler uses the people to save Jonathan. He steps aside from His usual course to keep His witness alive. He convicts Saul of sin, makes him feel powerless, and proves true the prophet's word that the kingdom is taken from him.

The people's verdict was the true one, for the Spirit of God endorses it. We learn from this that faith is always confident, always wise, and always does the right thing. Unbelief is always afraid and always foolish. If it tries to do the right thing, it will always do it in the wrong way.

This witness was true. But clearly the king's authority was now broken, and God's name must not be treated as common, even by accident. Jonathan did not know what he was doing, yet he was guilty... Still, that day made it plainer than ever that the king they had chosen was not only a useless burden, but a distress to Israel and a dishonour to the LORD.

The second of these words for redemption is also used for rescuing and setting free, as when it says that the "people rescued Jonathan, that he died not" (1 Sam. 14:45).

To this he adds the sin of envy. In his mad jealousy he would have sacrificed the noble Jonathan to his malicious rage, if the people had not stepped in. This outrageous scene halts the pursuit and lets the fleeing enemy escape: "Then Saul went up from pursuing the Philistines, and the Philistines went to their own place."

Nothing corrects Saul. We do not even hear that he gave in, or that he resisted. In sullen silence all fighting with the Philistines stops, and Israel lets them return to their own territory. It has been only Jonathan's victory, and Saul has done all he could to spoil it.

Then the people break out in a wave of astonishment and indignation. With firm decision they set their oath against the king's oath. What! Jonathan, who has worked, in the power of God, this deliverance of Israel? Jonathan die for breaking a command he never knew? By that very command Saul's own madness had snatched the full fruits of the victory out of the deliverer's hand. No — "As the LORD lives, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground!"

But God speaks through the people, who see that Saul is breaking the bounds of honour and righteousness. They insist that Jonathan must not suffer for what was only his father's arrogance. He had worked for God in this great salvation of Israel. They rescued Jonathan from so unjust a sentence. In this way God used the occasion for the humiliation of Saul before the people.

This "troubler of Israel" turned what should have been a day of joy and gladness for the people into a day of distress and disappointment. He had had no part at all in starting the victorious drive... But the Philistines are already defeated and in full flight when he pushes himself into the scene. He interferes with the pursuit in a petty temper. As Jonathan says, his father has troubled the land: "How much better if the people had eaten freely today of the spoil of their enemies that they found. For now the defeat among the Philistines has not been great." He does not say "Israel's enemies," or "the enemies of the Lord." It is "I," and "mine." He acts as if he were everything, the State and all, and the Lord and His people nothing.

All the religious actions, all the forms of piety, are with Saul. He has the ark and the priest. He makes the vow to abstain from food. He shows zeal for religious rules. He stops the people eating meat with the blood. He builds his altar when others have gained the blessing, and takes the credit himself. He can be religious when he has comfort and blessing. But he never looks to God in faith, so as to go through difficulties with God. There is energy, but it is energy in the flesh.

It has neither discernment of God's will, nor mercy on those who are plainly with Him. It will turn victory into defeat. Its excess will put God-given authority to public shame. It will turn joy into mourning and indignation. We need not go back to Israel's history for examples of this: our own hearts will supply them. Oh, in how many homes has this harsh legalism broken God-given authority!

So the people rescued Jonathan, and he did not die; and Saul is left to his folly and shame. The whole matter, from beginning to end, has been one long humiliation for the deluded king. The whole story shows the man for exactly what he is. And on God's part, how great the mercy — how tender, if solemn, the rebuke! And the divine patience is not exhausted yet.