1 Samuel 16:1–22

Was it not natural for Samuel's thoughts to linger over Saul? Had he not kissed him, honoured him, served him, and hoped in him? It was quite natural, but not divine. The Lord had rejected him, and Samuel had to give up his own thoughts and take God's, now clearly revealed. "I have rejected" — "I have provided" — these were words of mercy beyond telling for Israel. They were the way the Lord stepped in, and the only way Israel could be delivered and blessed.

We do not read that Samuel mourned when his sons lost their office. We do not read that he grieved when the ungrateful people he had served so long and so faithfully pushed him aside. No; he mourns for Saul. Saul was the man the nation had set its dearest hopes on, and his fall seemed to mean the weakening or the fall of Israel.

We see the same thing in principle in 1 Samuel 16:1. There God tells the prophet to stop grieving over Saul, whom He had set aside, because a far better king was in view — David. God takes away the first, "in order to establish the second" (Heb. 10:9). If Christ the Second Man fills our vision, the first man and the covenant of law, that applied to him, are set aside.

Man's unfaithfulness is so far from hindering God that it only gives Him a fresh occasion to glorify Himself. He proves and makes known that He is supreme over evil. And He always does it the same way: He takes up the results of sin and makes them the opening to display the resources of His wisdom and goodness. It was sin to have asked a king, but it was grace on God's part to give it.

The horn is the well-known picture of power, as oil is of the Spirit. The anointing comes from Him who holds the power. He will make good all that the anointing means, and His king must be fitted for it not only by nature but by the Spirit. Bethlehem we know well as the "house of bread". Its link with Him who is the "living bread" makes its meaning very plain.

For David everything was ordered by God, down to so small a matter as a horn full of oil instead of the vial of oil, "scanty and brittle", used for Saul.

How could he who had been until then a simple shepherd conduct himself in a way suitable to a king? The anointing did not only mark him out for the position. It also gave him the power and fitness he needed, so that he could be and live in every way worthy of the place God had appointed him to.

Jacob, when he was dying, had shown that Judah was the royal tribe. But the royal family only came into view when Samuel anointed David. No one could have foreseen it. David was the youngest of eight sons, and his family was not a prominent one — yet he was the one who would sit on Jehovah's throne. And who would have thought that the lowly Babe, born in Bethlehem's stable, was God's King?

Bethlehem was the village of Boaz — the Kinsman-Redeemer — the One who took up the cause of the hopeless and ruined. This shows the ground upon which everything was now to be built.

This is not deception, as some have imagined. The Lord is a God of truth. He would never use deceit in any form or for any purpose at all. People are quick to sit in judgment on God's acts, and for them lying is easy and natural. With God it is "impossible." "God orders him to protect himself with a sacrifice; say, 'I have come to sacrifice.' That was true, and it was right for him to sacrifice when he came to anoint a king (1 Sam. 11:15). As a prophet, he might sacrifice when and where God appointed. He really did come to sacrifice, though he had a further purpose too, which he chose to keep hidden."

This was not deception, but protection of Samuel. On this occasion the most important thing was the sacrifice, not the anointing. God's honour must come first, and His presence therefore sanctified the anointing. God told Samuel to call Jesse to the sacrifice, and to depend on Him for what to do and whom to anoint.

Samuel was not told to conceal his object, but to anoint the son of Jesse, presumably before as many as might be present at the feast. So we have a beautiful picture of the sheltering value of the sacrifice of Christ. Under its protection, the servant of the Lord can go forward right in front of his enemies. He knows that all the hatred of the flesh can do nothing against that sacrifice. King Saul himself, with all his boldness, dared not lay unholy hands on one who had such protection.

We have already seen such a sacrificial feast spread at Saul's anointing. We know it as the sign of peace and communion between God and man. This is where Saul had failed so utterly. For him, too, all had been prepared, and he was an invited guest; but he had never entered into the reality of it. David therefore was now to be the guest, and to make up for Saul's deficiency. And the true King, when He comes, is more than David; for He is not only a partaker of the feast but spreads it.

The hand of God opens the way for us to take the first step, and this is all that faith ever asks. God never gives guidance for two steps at a time. I must take one step, and then I get light for the next. This keeps the heart in constant dependence on God.

It is as if God said: you do not have enough confidence in Me, but fear for your life. So I simply tell you to call Jesse to a sacrifice. After that, "I will show you what you shall do. And you shall anoint for Me him whom I declare to you." God does not change His purpose. All that Saul or others need know is that Samuel has gone to Bethlehem to sacrifice. The prophet's fears are calmed. But this was not to his honour. Often we ask for a smoother path and get it. But we lose honour and reward.

The private anointing tells us of God's working behind the scenes to show whom He wants to rule. At first only David's father's household saw this choice of God. In the same way, today only the household of faith recognises that Jesus is God's chosen King.

In the end faith wins: "Samuel did what the LORD commanded," and he went ahead, counting on God's word to direct him... Once he is in the path of God, Samuel no longer fears. The elders of Bethlehem came to meet him trembling, but the man who had trembled beforehand is now the one reassuring them.

On his approach to Bethlehem the elders of the town ask anxiously, "Do you come peaceably?" They came to meet him trembling, we read. Under Saul's rule there was little security for life or property. The frightened elders do not know what this visit of the prophet might mean.

Samuel goes to Bethlehem, but the elders tremble at his coming. Things are out of order in Israel. An uneasy conscience finds the approach of a man who walks with God distressing.

What a state Israel was in, that anyone should ask this of a man who loved the nation so well! When people are not right with God, even the visit of a messenger of God is dreaded. The assembly at Corinth was tolerating gross evil. They too would probably have feared an unexpected call from the apostle Paul. He might bring "a rod"!

The men of Bethlehem seem to share Samuel's thoughts. They seem to know the prophet's visit was no small matter, and so they ask him: "Do you come peaceably?" How our poor hearts shrink from turmoil and conflict, even when it is necessary! Most would rather have the undisturbed reign of the flesh than face the conflict they fear from the Spirit striving against the flesh.

This is not deception, as some have imagined. The LORD is a God of truth. He would never use deceit in any form or for any purpose... "God orders him to protect himself with a sacrifice. Say, 'I have come to sacrifice' — which was true, and fitting for him to do when he came to anoint a king. As a prophet, he might sacrifice when and where God appointed. He truly came to sacrifice, though he had a further purpose as well, which he thought right to conceal."

It is as if God said: you do not have enough confidence in Me, and you fear for your life. So I only tell you to call Jesse to a sacrifice... The prophet's fears died down. But this was not to his honour. We often ask for a smoother path and get it — but we lose honour and reward.

David was anointed in the house of Jesse the Bethlehemite. So this was apparently the place of David's birth. That is why Luke 2:11 calls it the "city of David." It was also the birthplace of Jesus. Though it was little among the clans of Judah, this suited His humiliation all the better. Bethlehem means "house of bread." That is a very fitting name for the place the Saviour should come from as a man. He was the living bread that came down from heaven.

The elders greeted Samuel's visit to Bethlehem with alarm, and they asked him, trembling, "Do you come peaceably?" What a state Israel was in, that anyone should ask such a question of a man who loved the nation so well. But when people are not right with God, they dread even a visit from a messenger of God. The assembly at Corinth would probably have viewed with alarm an unexpected call from the Apostle while they were tolerating gross evil among them. He might bring "a rod"!

The prophet knew Saul's murderous heart, and put no trust in him, especially in anything that touched his hold on the kingdom. So God shows His servant how to go about the business without rousing the suspicion of Saul or his officers. This is not deception, as some have imagined. The Lord is a God of truth, and would never use deceit in any form or for any purpose at all. Man finds lying easy and natural, and is quick to judge God's acts; but for God lying is impossible. "God orders him to protect himself with a sacrifice: say, 'I have come to sacrifice.' That was true, and right for him to do when he came to anoint a king. As a prophet, he might sacrifice when and where God appointed. In truth he came to sacrifice, though he had also a further purpose, which he saw fit to conceal."

Samuel was not told to hide his purpose, but to anoint the son of Jesse, probably in front of everyone at the feast. So here we have a beautiful picture of the sheltering value of the sacrifice of Christ. Under its protection, the servant of the Lord can go forward right in the face of his enemies. He knows that all the hostility of the flesh can do nothing against that sacrifice. King Saul himself, for all his boldness, dared not lay unholy hands on a man who had such protection.

On this occasion the most important thing was the sacrifice, not the anointing. God's honour must come first, and His presence therefore sanctified the anointing.

He himself sanctified Jesse and his sons — we are not told how — and called them to the sacrifice. This was not for Jesse's family alone. The elders of Bethlehem at least were there too.

God often called the priests, Levites, and people to sanctify themselves, so that they were fit by the ceremonies to approach Him and His sanctuary. God declared, "Among those who are near Me I will be sanctified." We must come to God with reverence, separate from everything that does not suit Him.

We have already seen such a sacrificial feast spread at Saul's anointing. We know it as the sign of peace and communion between God and man. This is where Saul had failed so completely. For him, too, all had been prepared, and he was an invited guest; but he had never entered into the reality of it. David therefore was now to be the guest, and to make up for Saul's deficiency. And the true King, when He comes, is more than David; for He does not only share the feast — He spreads it.

When Jesse's sons came in, Samuel was struck by the fine appearance of Eliab. He said, "Surely the LORD's anointed is before Him." But at that very moment a man "taller than any of the people from his shoulders upward" sat on Israel's throne, and he was a terrible failure.

How quickly we forget the lessons of past experience! How ready we are to look "on the outward appearance," and so be deceived again and again. His children in the faith at Corinth thought Paul's "presence" was poor. For this they were foolish enough to discount his power and worth, and to be carried away with men who gloried in appearance... Of that meek and lowly One who came in His Father's name Scripture says, "he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him."

The Jewish system provided an outward, ceremonial purification of the flesh. So Samuel could sanctify Jesse and his sons according to the ordinances of the law, without asking about their real state, the state of the heart. And he did so. But he was tempted to go beyond this, as many are who take Jewish ground and rest much on ordinances. If everything looks fine, if the conduct is well ordered, if religious duties and services are carried out with care and devotion, what more will the Lord want? The simple but weighty answer is — the heart. Eliab's heart was far from God. We see it in the next chapter. He was a scorner, the first to openly resent God's grace at work in David — as the flesh, in spite of its religion, always does.

Eliab was the eldest brother. He stands here in the prominence that the flesh always loves and seeks. He was a man with striking natural attractions. But however handsome his face or his height, God "had refused him." The LORD's anointed was not the man people admired. How often the word teaches us this lesson, as God rejects the first-born and chooses the younger! So Eliab stands like Ishmael or Esau. He represents the natural claim of the flesh.

We cannot doubt that Satan has pushed such men forward in the church. They have got into the place of rule and authority, and they "have disheartened the righteous, whom God has not disheartened, and encouraged the wicked." It would have been so in Israel that day if Samuel had acted on his own thoughts. How far would the nation have sunk if Eliab had succeeded Saul? God must be sovereign, or ruin, universal and beyond remedy, would be certain. God refuses, and God chooses, and there is no injustice with Him.

Even this man of God is judging by outward appearance, and God has to correct him... Samuel was judging here as a man. He handed his discernment over to the same outward qualities Saul had. With touching grace God stoops to correct and instruct His servant on all these points.

Samuel had long been trained in subjection to the word of God. "Speak, LORD, for your servant hears" shaped his character from childhood. He left Eliab at once, where the Lord left him — refused.

It is very striking to find Samuel so much and so often mistaken in this chapter. He mourned for Saul. He hesitated to go and anoint David. He was wrong about Eliab. All of it shows how far he was from God's ways. How solemn the Lord's word is: "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." This is the great difference: "the outward appearance" and "the heart." Appearance almost trapped Samuel himself. The Lord stepped in to teach him the worth of the heart.

When Jesse's sons came in, Samuel was struck by Eliab's fine appearance and said, "Surely the LORD's anointed is before Him." But at that very moment Israel's throne held a man "taller than any of the people from his shoulders upward" (1 Sam. 10:23). That man was a complete failure. God's answer to the prophet reaches far beyond that day… "Let no one boast in men" (1 Cor. 3:21).

What if everything looks fine? The person behaves well and performs religious duties with care. What more will the Lord need? The simple but weighty answer is — the heart. Eliab's heart was separated from God. We see it in the next chapter (v. 28). He mocked David, and he was the first to resent the working of God's grace in him. Human nature always does this, despite its religion. Yet appearances deceived the prophet, and he thought Eliab was fit for the Lord's service.

This chapter gives us in a very striking way the clear sentence of death on all man's thoughts. Look at the contrast. Everyone admired Saul, and God's people chose him for his outward appearance. David, meanwhile, was forgotten even by his own father — and that was when the prophet himself asked about him. No lesson could teach us more. He counted for nothing in the eyes of a single member of the family; yet this was the man destined for the throne.

When did God ever choose the firstborn of the flesh? All through the Bible God sets aside the one who seems to have the claim by birth. He does it so that everyone may learn that blessing comes only by grace. Not Cain, but Abel. Not Ishmael, but Isaac. Not Esau, but Jacob. Not Reuben, but Joseph. Not Aaron, but Moses. This is always God's way.

How quickly we forget what past experience taught us. How ready we are to look "on the outward appearance," and so be deceived again and again. The believers at Corinth, whom Paul had led to faith, thought his physical presence was weak. So they made the foolish mistake of dismissing his power and worth, and followed men who boasted in appearance… It has always been this way, and it will stay this way until the Antichrist comes. He "will come in his own name," and the handsome Absalom pictured him in advance. Scripture says this about the gentle, humble One who came in His Father's name: "He had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him."

A person may have much learning and great natural ability. He may be attractive to look at and a fine speaker. He may still be useless, because his heart is not right, and its purpose was never formed alone with God. If God's things hold power over the inner person, the outward person will gladly serve the holy and perfect will of God. God looks on the heart, not on the outward appearance. Appearance deceives.

People would give the greatest reward for the greatest display and the largest visible results. But in the coming day the best prizes may go to others: those who made little noise, whose names few people knew, but who served Christ faithfully with what they were given.

So nature's best, as it were, passed before the prophet — all in vain. Nature could produce nothing for God or His people.

And so in the end faith wins out. "Samuel did what the LORD commanded," and he went ahead, counting on God's word to guide him. Once he had learned that the Lord looks at the heart, he proves himself faithful. His communion with the Lord is clear. He judges at once that "Neither has the LORD chosen" the other sons whom their father Jesse made to pass before the prophet. At last he anoints the only one of them whom the Lord had chosen.

Even this man of God is judging by outward appearance. God has to correct him: "The LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." … With touching grace God stoops to correct and instruct His servant on all these points.

So the same verdict falls on Abinadab beforehand, though as the second son he speaks of help or of salvation. His name too is good, and fits with this — "my father is a generous giver." And why, man argues, should God not let sin go? He is good, and the Father of men. Why not forgive freely, simply because it pleases Him? Why must the Christ be a David, an eighth son? Why must He own in Himself the ruin of man, and go down to the depth of man's condemnation to redeem him? But it cannot be. Sin is the dark and basic opposite of God, and He cannot live with it. To ignore it is not to remove it, but to go on with it, and Abinadab can therefore be no adequate Saviour.

Jesse then presents Abinadab, who was clearly the second son. Then comes Shammah, then the rest of his seven sons, no doubt in order of age. But the Lord makes it clear to Samuel that He has chosen none of them. Do we not see here a picture of the Lord passing by all the men of the Old Testament? Not one of them was God's choice for king. Jesse had not even considered his youngest son for such an honour. In the same way, the Lord Jesus is the last man people think of as the One to rule over them.

David was the eighth son of Jesse. When Samuel saw the first seven he had to realise that none of them was God's choice as king over Israel. It was only when he asked whether there was another son that Jesse told him about David, the youngest. The number eight speaks of a new start or the introduction of a new order of things. When the Lord Jesus entered this scene everything changed.

If Eliab, or Shammah, or Abinadab, or any one of the "seven sons" of Jesse had had the anointing oil poured on his head, human nature might have gloried in the presence of God. But then David appears — the forgotten David. In him we see one who would give all the glory to Him who was about to put the sceptre into his hand. In a word, David stands before us as a clear picture of the Lord Jesus. When He appeared among men, people despised Him, overlooked Him, and forgot Him.

Natural attraction had nothing to do with the Lord's choice. He looks beneath the polished surface of men and things, and judges by His own principles, which never fail. … So the best of nature, as it were, passed before the prophet, but all in vain. Nature could produce nothing for God or His people.

The Jewish system, as we read in Hebrews 9:13, provided a ceremonial way of purifying the flesh. So Samuel could set Jesse and his sons apart according to the law, without looking into their real state, the state of the heart. And he did so. But he was tempted to go further, as many are who put themselves under the law and lean on religious ceremonies. If everything looks right, if the conduct is well ordered, and if a man carries out religious duties and services with care and devotion, what more will the Lord ask? The simple but weighty answer is — the heart. Eliab's heart was separated from God. He was a scorner, the first to openly resent the work of God's grace in David — as human nature, for all its religion, always does.

It is very remarkable to find Samuel so much and so often astray in this chapter. His mourning for Saul, his hesitation to go and anoint David, his mistake about Eliab, all show how far he was from the ways of God. … Even Samuel would have been trapped by the outward appearance, if the Lord had not graciously stepped in to teach him the value of the heart.

Happily, Samuel had long been trained in obedience to the word of God. "Speak, LORD, for your servant hears" was the shaping principle of his character from childhood. He left Eliab at once — where the Lord left him, refused — and the rest of Jesse's sons with him.

We cannot doubt that Satan has pushed such men forward in the church. They have got into the place of rule and authority, and they "have made the heart of the righteous sad, whom the Lord has not made sad, and strengthened the hands of the wicked." It would have been so in Israel at this time, if Samuel had acted on his own thoughts. How low would the nation have sunk if Eliab had succeeded Saul? God must be sovereign, or ruin — universal and beyond remedy — would be certain. God refuses, and God chooses, and there is no unrighteousness with Him.

Jesse had not even considered his youngest son for such an honour, just as the Lord Jesus is the last man people think of as the One to rule over them. The youngest was keeping the sheep. He was not thought important enough even to be present at the sacrifice. However, the picture behind keeping sheep is precious to God. Saul, in contrast, was looking for his father's donkeys, which he never found. God's thought of a king is to have one with a shepherd's heart, who would genuinely care for the people.

All that is great in Jesse's eyes is allowed to pass unnoticed; the seven were fine-looking men, but it is the boy keeping the sheep, the eighth, the weak one, who is preferred and taken up!

If Eliab, or Shammah, or Abinadab, or any one of Jesse's seven sons had had the anointing oil poured on his head, human nature might have gloried in the presence of God. But then David appears — the forgotten David. In him we see one who would give all the glory to Him who was about to put the sceptre into his hand. In a word, David stands before us as a clear picture of the Lord Jesus. When He appeared among men, people despised Him, overlooked Him, and forgot Him.

Outward attraction had nothing to do with the Lord's choice. He looks beneath the polished surface of people and things, and judges by His own principles, which never fail... So the best that nature could produce passed before the prophet, but all in vain; nature could produce nothing for God or for His people.

Here God sets aside all boasting in natural advantage and birthright. He chooses the youngest son, despised and forgotten by everyone, the one who kept the sheep; "for the LORD sees not as man sees." Samuel, taught by God, does not hesitate. He can accept none of the seven who are at home.

Jesse had not even considered his youngest son for such an honour, just as the Lord Jesus is the last man people think of as the One to rule over them. The youngest was keeping the sheep. He was not thought important enough even to be present at the sacrifice. But what keeping sheep pictures is precious to God. Saul, in contrast, was looking for his father's donkeys, which he never found. God's thought of a king is one with a shepherd's heart, who would truly care for the people.

How fast we forget the lessons of past experience! How ready we are to look "on the outward appearance," and so let it deceive us again and again... Scripture says this of the gentle and humble One who came in His Father's name: "He had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him."

If Eliab, or Shammah, or Abinadab, or any one of the "seven sons" of Jesse had had the anointing oil poured on his head, human pride could have boasted in the presence of God. But then David — the forgotten David — appears. In him we see one who would give all the glory to the God who was about to put the royal sceptre in his hand.

Truly "the LORD sees not as man sees," for "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world... so that no human being might boast in the presence of God." (1 Cor. 1:27-29)

"Eight" is right in Samuel, and "seventh" in Chronicles. Both are God's word, and each fits the truth God is teaching in that book... Seven is linked with rest in creation, and eight with rest in resurrection power and glory. As the eighth son in Samuel, David points to the true David who will restore everything and reign over Israel Himself as the risen Man... Eight means God stepping in with grace when everything is lost.

This chapter shows us, in a very striking way, the clear sentence of death on all the thoughts of man. What lesson could teach us anything more solemn than the contrast between Saul and David? Everyone admired Saul, and he was chosen because of his outward appearance. David was forgotten even by his own father — and this was after the prophet had raised the question. He was of no account in the eyes of a single member of the family. Yet this was the man destined for the throne.

A rod out of the stem of Jesse is His object. He is a root out of dry ground, with no beauty in the sight of men. His father, "according to the flesh," says of him with scorn, "There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep." He is the one whom man was despising and the nation abhorring, as they did with a greater than he.

God lets everything that is great in Jesse's eyes pass unnoticed. The seven were fine-looking men. But it is the lad keeping the sheep, the eighth, the weak one, whom God prefers and takes up!

He had not been alone in the wilderness. He had been under God's teaching. He had been preparing for public service in a secret school. His teacher was the One who does not look on the outward appearance, and who does not see as man sees. Now it must be the same with us. There must be a living before the Lord. Unless our souls are exercised before Him, He will not use us as instruments in His service. We may think He will; but it will not be so. God will always deal in secret with the soul He intends to serve Him in public.

And how good it is to notice David's occupation: "Behold, he is keeping the sheep." The Lord referred to this later. He said to David, "I took you from the sheepfold, from following the sheep, to be ruler over My people, over Israel." Nothing can show God's thoughts about the office of king more sweetly than the work of a shepherd. In fact, when a king does not carry it out in the spirit of a shepherd, it fails of its purpose.

Samuel heard that there was a shepherd lad. He said to Jesse, "Send and get him, for we will not sit down till he comes here." Note the margin: "Hebrew — sit round." The circle would not be complete without David. He had to be in the centre.

Samuel, by contrast, anoints David king of grace "in the midst of his brothers." They do not sit down at the table until he arrives. This family feast brings them together for a shared meal. After that, Samuel gets up in peace and goes to Ramah.

He was the neglected one of the family. But he was content to be so. He was willing to tend the sheep in the field, while his more respected brothers stayed at home to receive the guests and do the honours of the house. … As scorn had not cast him down, so honours do not puff him up. As soon as the occasion is over, he is back again among the flocks.

Samuel, by the Spirit of prophecy (1 Sam. 16), goes down to Bethlehem, to select from among the sons of Jesse one who should be king in place of Saul. He causes them to pass before him. Seven come in. Samuel asks, "Is there not another?" Yes, a lad keeping the sheep. "Send and fetch him." David comes, and the Spirit of prophecy marks him out as the LORD's anointed. Everything great in Jesse's eyes is allowed to pass unnoticed. The seven were fine-looking men. Yet the one preferred and taken up is the lad keeping the sheep — the eighth, the weak one!

"There remains yet the youngest." Surely he could not be the chosen one, thought Jesse. Man cannot understand the ways of God. The very instrument which God is about to use is overlooked or despised by man. "Arise, anoint him, for this is he" is God's perfect reply to the thoughts of Jesse and Samuel.

He is brought in. "Now he was ruddy (literally, 'reddish,' perhaps referring to auburn hair) and had beautiful eyes and was handsome; and the LORD said, Arise, anoint him, for this is he." David the son of Jesse was anointed and the Spirit of the LORD came upon him. And so David became the LORD's anointed. David means "beloved"; he is a shepherd.

Two things characterised him — his beauty, and his outward appearance. Saul was remarkable for the latter (1 Sam. 9:2), but his heart was not right with God. Eliab, David's elder brother, also had an appearance to commend him. But the LORD told Samuel, "The LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." (1 Sam. 16:7.) … So God alone could see fully what was in him, and yet he did not lack what man could admire. He was to lack nothing that suited a king.

And how happy it is to note David's occupation. "Behold, he keeps the sheep." The Lord came back to this later, when He said to David, "I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, that you should be prince over My people Israel." Nothing pictures God's thoughts about kingship more beautifully than the work of a shepherd. Indeed, when a king does not rule in the spirit of a shepherd, his office fails of its purpose. King David took this to heart, as we hear in those touching words, "But these sheep, what have they done?"

How much this scene differs from the one that accompanies the anointing of David! Here this young prophet must call Jehu away "from among his brothers." He leads him far from all eyes into "an inner chamber," and anoints him with no witnesses, in haste and in secret. Samuel, by contrast, anoints David king of grace "in the midst of his brothers." They do not sit down at the table until David arrives, and the family feast brings them together for a shared meal. After that, Samuel rises up in peace and goes to Ramah (1 Sam. 16:11-13).

"My beloved is radiant and ruddy." The ruddy colour in the face speaks of health and vigour. David, who was a type of Christ, was ruddy (see 1 Sam. 16:12; 17:42). None were ever so full of energy for God as the Lord. In Hebrew, the word translated "ruddy" here is the same word translated "red" in Numbers 19:2: "a red heifer without defect, in which there is no blemish, and on which a yoke has never come." … Put these passages side by side, and the ruddy or red colour seems to mean the Lord's complete consecration and devotion to God, even to death.

One can only say, blessed be the grace which took up one to be ruler over His people, a man who showed the very qualities most suited to his work. So David is now fully before us as the Lord's anointed, and we have to follow him through all his wanderings and changes of fortune, while he is rejected by men and waiting for the kingdom.

God gives His direct word to Samuel that this is His choice. Then Samuel "anointed him in the midst of his brothers." It was not a private matter like the anointing of Saul, for David was a man after God's heart, clearly a picture of Christ, who is God's final choice for King. From that time we are told that the Spirit of the Lord came upon David. This was a special empowering God gave him, to enable him to act in a way and with a wisdom fitting for kingly dignity.

We are not told what they thought when their youngest brother came to the front and received honour like this. Later on, at least some of them had unfriendly thoughts about him. When their father sent him to them, they rejected him (1 Sam. 17:17–30). The thought that one day he would be king and ruler over Israel was not acceptable to them. In the same way the "brothers" of the Lord Jesus said, "We do not want this man to reign over us" (Luke 19:14).

The Lord was about to teach His servant something essential before David's anointing. Just then Samuel broke in with his fears. In Saul's case there were no such instructions. For David, God ordered everything — down to so small a matter as a horn full of oil, instead of the "scanty and brittle" flask used for Saul.

Anointing, as a symbolic word, carries a definite meaning. In Old Testament times three classes of people received the anointing — priests, prophets, kings. Oil was poured on their heads. Though it was a rite, it carried a definite result... Scripture links anointing with oil to the giving of the Spirit. For the priest, it enabled him to take up the priestly position and service. For the prophet, the prophetic position and service. For the king, the kingly position and service.

In Acts 10:38 we read: "God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power." May not the horn of oil in the anointing of David have suggested that power? So our Lord was not only designated, but also qualified, for His work.

Saul's anointing is cancelled. There cannot be two anointed kings before God. The effect is enormous for both Saul and David. From that day forward the Spirit of the LORD came upon David, and an evil spirit from the LORD came upon Saul. On David the Spirit remained. On Saul the attacks of the evil spirit seem to have come and gone, though he was Satan's constant instrument. When the Spirit of the LORD left Saul, he did not sink back into the ordinary condition of other men. He was as marked from that day forward as David was. But what an awful difference!

David knew he was anointed king, but Saul occupied the throne. He was quite content to wait on God and, in meekness, to leave the timing to Him. Until then, the Spirit of Christ led him in the path of an exile. His road to the throne lay through many sorrows and difficulties. Like his blessed Master, whom he pictured, he was called to suffering first and glory afterwards.

God had graciously given Saul His Spirit so that he could work as a king should. But Saul had rebelled against God's word. He thought he had every right to act on his own, apart from God. Therefore God removed His Spirit from him, to allow him to go ahead and act in his independent way.

Evil as well as good has its commission from God — not its existence, but its liberty to act, and the limits of its action. So we see with Job in early times, and in Ahab's case later; and it is a real comfort to know this. This is how the wrath of man is made to praise Him, and the rest of it He restrains. Nothing can escape from the divine government by the fact of being evil, or by admitting that it is. How could it? Only on this basis can we be at peace, sure that no waves can rise higher than the footstool of His throne.

God did more than let Saul take his own headstrong way. Saul had refused the Spirit of God, so he lay open to the opposite of this — an evil spirit. God allowed the evil spirit to trouble Saul to wake him to the folly of his own self-will. Disobedience to God does not leave us in a merely negative state, but in a state of positive evil. This sobering fact should have driven Saul to seek the grace of God. He should have handed his kingdom over willingly to the man God had chosen. Instead he kept stubbornly on in his evil course until his tragic death.

This seems to be a clearly marked case of demon possession. One who has rejected the word of God is given over to the power of Satan… Of the nature of that affliction, we cannot speak in detail. Without question, there was a sense of being forsaken by God, no longer having His approval. No one could fully describe the utter hopelessness and despair of this. Along with it there was likely some clouding of the mind, or at least an oppression that left him unfit for any duty. Some have said that King Saul was suffering from insanity. That is not the truth. It was not insanity, but the demon of evil to which he had yielded himself, and which now asserts itself as his master.

As soon as David is called to the throne, Saul's moral condition changes completely. Until that day the Spirit of God had been with the king according to the flesh. That is what explains each of Saul's successes against the enemies of Israel. Now the Spirit of the Lord comes upon David (v. 13) and departs from Saul, who is left in the power of "a harmful spirit from the LORD" (v. 14). This is a judgment from God, a chastisement on the king… At the same time God shows that His Spirit alone can lift up and drive away the evil spirit. We see it when David takes a harp and plays it before Saul.

Needless to say, the Holy Spirit comes to a believer once and once only. He comes, as our Lord said near the end of His life on earth, "to be with you forever" (John 14:16). Old Testament times were different. Then the Spirit might come and go — for instance, when "the Spirit of the LORD departed from Saul" (1 Sam. 16:14). Ephesians 4:30 agrees. It tells believers, "you were sealed for the day of redemption."

Hardly is David called to the throne when Saul's moral condition changes completely. Until that day the Spirit of God had been with the king according to the flesh, and this explains each of Saul's successes against the enemies of Israel. Now the Spirit of the Lord comes upon David (v. 13) and departs from Saul, who is left in the power of "an harmful spirit from the LORD" (v. 14). This is a judgment from God, a chastisement upon the king.

Evil as well as good has its commission from God — not its existence, but its liberty to act, and the limits of its action. So we see with Job in early times, and in Ahab's case later; and it is a real comfort to know this. This is how the wrath of man is made to praise Him, and the remainder of it He restrains. Nothing can escape from the divine government by the fact or the claim of being evil. How could it? Only in this way can we be at peace, sure that no waves can rise higher than the footstool of His throne.

A "messenger of Satan" may be sent out from the presence of God upon either the flesh or the heart of man. An evil spirit from the Lord came upon Saul, and a lying spirit came upon the prophets of Ahab. The Lord was beginning solemn acts of judgment, and so these messengers of Satan were sent out upon the heart of those who were rightly under judgment. But other messengers of Satan reach only the body or the circumstances, as with Paul and our patriarch. And this is discipline only, and not judgment.

God allowed Saul to take his own headstrong way. More than that: since Saul had refused the Spirit of God, he lay open to the opposite, an evil spirit. God let that evil spirit trouble Saul, to wake him up to the folly of his own self-will. Disobedience to God does not leave us in a merely negative state, but in a state of positive evil.

It has sometimes been said that king Saul was afflicted with insanity. This is not the truth. Sadly, it was not insanity, but the demon of evil to which he had yielded himself and which now asserts itself as his master.

The desire of Saul, the rejected king, was not a godly one; he should have looked in his own conduct for the cause of his trouble.

David's harp does not act directly on Satan, but on Saul. It has a strange power to soften and subdue the savage temper of the rejected king, though only for a time. By that means it drives back the power attacking him and shuts it out. For the time, he is set free.

There is a solemn thought here. Some ministry of Christ is so soothing that it can partly relieve a soul's fears and distress without working any real cure. David is clearly a type of Christ here. By His Spirit, Christ ministers His word in the ordinary way — its sweet story of God's love and care, of His power over evil, of the comfort He brings to His own. That word gives relief even to those whose hearts are estranged from God.

His servants discerned that it was God who had allowed this evil spirit to trouble Saul. Their solution is not to go to the root of the matter, but to treat its symptoms. This is characteristic of men's governments everywhere. A skilled musician could play the harp in a way that calmed the troubled king's spirit.

Evil as well as good has its commission from God — not its existence, but its liberty to act, and the limits of its action... The evil spirit's work with Saul carried out a penalty. Had it led him to judge himself, it would have proved mercy too. They knew where the relief came from, and it was that goodness of God which leads to repentance. The way it worked shows that Saul's own stormy spirit gave the evil one his opening — and brought Saul inside the limit God had set for him. David's harp does not act directly on Satan, but on Saul. Its strange power softens and calms the savage temper of the rejected king, though only for a time. So it drives back and shuts out the power that attacks him, and for a while he is free.

God let Saul take his own headstrong way. And since Saul had refused the Spirit of God, he lay open to the opposite of this, an evil spirit. God allowed the evil spirit to trouble Saul to wake him up to the folly of his own self-will. Disobedience to God does not leave us in a merely negative state, but in a state of positive evil.

Now the Spirit of the Lord comes upon David (v. 13) and leaves Saul, who falls into the power of "an evil spirit from Jehovah" (v. 14). This is a judgment from God, a discipline for the king... At the same time, when David takes a harp and plays with his hand before Saul, God shows that His Spirit alone can stir up the evil spirit and drive it away.

The servants' idea of relief is that a sweet singer should soothe the poor king in his hours of despair. With his approval, they suggest a man just right for the job. It is none other than David. See how the providence of God brings him to the king! There is a solemn thought here. A ministry of Christ can be so soothing that it eases the fears and distress of a soul to some degree, while no real cure takes place.

David had not yet shown men a single sign of what God had chosen him for when He set him apart from his brothers. Still, he is put forward for a remarkable service... This is the first circumstance which brings the anointed of Jehovah into the company of Saul. It appears to have been only the most passing acquaintance that was formed with the king.

The true David, even Christ, has played on His harp to the refreshing of many a troubled soul. He has played to many a sinner on the harp of His great salvation, and refreshed him with His grace. Wonderfully sweet to Legion, to Mary of Magdala, when the evil spirits departed from them... But here David drives the evil spirit away from Saul — only for a season — and that is a picture of Christ, before Whom demons flee.

His servants realised that God had allowed this evil spirit to trouble Saul. Their solution is not to go to the root of the matter, but to treat its symptoms. This is characteristic of men's governments everywhere. A skilled harp player could play in a way that calmed the troubled king's spirit.

The desire of Saul, the rejected king, was not a godly one. He should have looked at his own conduct for the cause of his trouble.

The Spirit of Jehovah came upon David and left Saul. At the same time, an evil spirit troubles Saul. The providence of God brings in David by means of one of Saul's servants who knew him, and presents him to Saul. Saul loves him and keeps him close. David becomes his armour-bearer, and plays the harp when the evil spirit troubles Saul. David, in God's sight, is the anointed king, but he must suffer before he reigns, however great his energy may be.

God had set David apart from among his brothers. David had not yet shown one sign of it before people. Still, he is put forward for a remarkable service... David did not seek this change himself... Had he tried to become a courtier, he could hardly have managed it. But without one thought on his part, the Lord brings him into the king's presence in a simple and fitting way.

His credentials were of a high order. First, he was a skillful musician. Second, a brave man. Third, a man of war. Fourth, skilled in speech. Fifth, of pleasing appearance. And last, but most important, the Lord was with him. How clearly he is a picture of Christ.

One of Saul's young men knew the very man who met these requirements. His testimony to David is remarkable. It shows that he had watched David closely and knew his outstanding features well. His description was accurate. It made clear that the future king of Israel had shown early the traits that fitted the high office God was preparing him for.

The work of the evil spirit with Saul carried out a penalty. Had it led him to judge himself, it would have proved to be mercy as well. The relief was granted, and its source was known. It was that goodness of God which leads to repentance... David's harp does not act directly upon Satan, but upon Saul. The harp has a strange power to soften and subdue the savage temper of the rejected king, though only for a time. By doing so it drives back the power that assails him and shuts it off. For a time he is set free.

When the Spirit came upon David, he had little idea what his first work as God's man would be. It was to calm the violence — the spiritual violence — of the head of the kingdom... What an apparently humble service for God's anointed king, one might be ready to say! But what moral greatness!

The true David, even Christ, has played on His harp to the refreshing of many a troubled soul. He has played to many a sinner on the harp of His great salvation, and refreshed him with His grace... Here David makes the evil spirit leave Saul, and only for a season. That is a picture of Christ, before Whom demons flee.

His credentials were of a high order. First, he was a skillful musician. Then a valiant man, a man of war, skilled in speech, and presentable in his person. Last, and most important of all, the Lord was with him. How clearly he is a picture of Christ.

This is a striking testimony from one of Saul's servants, at a time when Saul and nearly all the rest ignored the youth — and a youth is what he was then. But it is only one ray of light on a life that was otherwise hidden. That life was spent alone in the wilderness, keeping his father's flock, but spent with God.

The skill he had gained in the obscurity of Bethlehem was now to be shown in the presence of the king. Later David came to the throne and set up the service of song in the house of Jehovah. Then "the sons of Asaph, under the direction of Asaph... prophesied under the direction of the king" (1 Chr. 25:2, 6). All was under the chief musicians, but the king controlled them — "the sweet psalmist of Israel."

Indeed the description given of him by one of Saul's servants seems to have been almost prophetic, viewed in the light of his subsequent history. May we not say that the Spirit of God was prompting that servant to the utterance of thoughts beyond his own?

When Moses and the people of Israel celebrated the defeat of Pharaoh, they sang, "The LORD is a man of war." That they had seen with their own eyes. Our Lord Jesus met and defeated Satan and all his armies. The day is coming fast when He will come out of heaven on a white horse, "and in righteousness He judges and makes war" (Rev. 19:11).

There is another beauty. It can go with outward beauty in men of faith, but God values it as the reflection of character. It is the beauty of a pure soul, or of simple faith. It is the shining out of a heart that shuts out evil and sin, a heart with no deceit in it... And last of all, this is the beauty of David, formed in the wilderness by the sheep pastures, where in secret he experienced the strength and the glory of His God.

This was David's greatest asset. All his natural ability and charm would have availed him little without the presence of Jehovah. We see this in Saul, who had so much that was naturally attractive, but when he lost the Spirit of the Lord, all his personal greatness was without avail.

David was near to Saul, and Saul had heard so much about him. Even so, it does not seem to have occurred to Saul that this "man of valor" was in fact "a man of war" — the very man to overthrow the giant.

The Spirit of Jehovah came upon David and left Saul, and at the same time an evil spirit troubles Saul. God's providence brings David in through one of Saul's servants who knew him, and presents him to Saul.

When the eye is fixed on doing the will of God — the only thing worth anything in this world — how happy it is to leave everything with God! We see this in David's history. If David had set out to win a place at court, he could hardly have gained it. But he never gave it a thought, and the Lord brought him before the king in a simple, fitting way. This is the first move.

At Saul's court David played. When he was no longer needed there, he went back to his first job, keeping his father's sheep in the wilderness. He knew his place and kept it. In that place he learned about God in a way others had not, and that lesson fitted him for future usefulness.

He had been preparing for public service in the secret school of Him who does not look on the outward appearance, and who does not see as man sees. It must be the same with us. We must live before the Lord. Unless our souls are exercised before Him, He will not use us as instruments in His service. God will always deal in secret with the soul that He intends to serve Him in public.

When Saul asked for such a musician, one of his servants suggested a son of Jesse — none other than David, whom Samuel had anointed without Saul's knowledge. His credentials were of a high order. First, he was a skillful musician. Second, a brave man. Third, a man of war. Fourth, skilled in speech. Fifth, well presented in person. And last, but most important, the Lord was with him.

David, however, did not hesitate to take his place as a servant, even in the house of the man who would later prove his most bitter enemy. It made no difference to him where he served or what he did. He would protect his father's flocks from lions and bears, or drive an evil spirit away from Saul. In fact, from the moment David's history opens, he appears as a servant, ready for any work.

Saul seems to have had little idea who was standing in front of him, whose music refreshed his troubled spirit. He did not know that the future king of Israel was there with him. "Saul loved him greatly, and he became his armor-bearer." Selfish Saul was happy to use David's services in his hour of need, though he was ready to shed his blood once he understood who and what he was.

But God does not set David at once in the height of power, as He did in the case of Saul. He must make his way through all kinds of difficulties by grace and faith. Though he is filled with the Holy Spirit, he must act in front of a power that has no Spirit, and that God has not yet set aside. He must submit and be humbled. He must feel how completely he depends on God, and that God is enough in every circumstance. A beautiful picture of One who, without sin, walked through far more painful circumstances!

As soon as David is called to the throne, Saul's moral condition changes completely. Until that day the Spirit of God had been with the king according to the flesh. This explains each of Saul's successes against the enemies of Israel. Now the Spirit of the Lord comes upon David (v. 13) and departs from Saul, who is left in the power of "an evil spirit from Jehovah" (v. 14). This is a judgment from God, a chastisement on the king... At the same time God shows that His Spirit alone can raise up the evil spirit and drive it away. We see this when David takes a harp and plays with his hand before Saul.

1 Samuel 16:14-23 shows the state of the Jewish political and religious system, which God had rejected. It shows our Lord's connection with that system as such. And it shows the character of His ministry to it, as the one anointed to take its place.

It must have been to Jesse and to David a striking sign of God's leading that Saul should require his service. In his coming he brings a present to Saul of bread, wine and a young goat, all typical of Christ and His sacrifice. David's character made Saul love him greatly, and Saul made him his armour-bearer. Later, however, that love turned to something close to hatred. Saul realised David was better qualified to be king than he was.

One feature in David's character marks him in every scene he passes through. It is there when we first see him as the shepherd in Bethlehem. It is still there when he hands the throne of Israel over to his son Solomon. He was at all times and in all scenes the servant. At the start of his history he is slighted and forgotten, and even his father thinks little of him. He was the youngest son, and his father tells Samuel that David is out keeping the sheep. From this place of scorn and neglect, however, God in clear favour draws him out and anoints him to the throne of Israel. Yet this anointing worked in everything to keep him the servant.

The servants' idea of relief is that a sweet singer should soothe the poor king in his hours of despair. With Saul's approval they suggest just the man for it. It is none other than David; and how the providence of God brings him into the king's presence! Here is a solemn thought. Some ministry of Christ is so soothing that it eases a soul's fears and distress to some degree, yet works no real cure. David here is clearly a picture of Christ. By His Spirit, Christ ministers His word in ordinary ways. That word tells of God's love and care, of His power over evil, and of the comfort He gives His own. It brings comfort even to those whose hearts are still far from God.

God might use David's ministry and music to relieve Saul, and perhaps to profit him too. Still, it did not advance things at all. David leaves Saul's house and is forgotten by those he had benefited. He went back simply and naturally to keep his father's sheep... From the very first it was important that David should owe nothing to the king on the throne. God had rejected Saul, and the two houses had to stay distinct and separate.

The providence of God brings in David by means of one of Saul's servants who knew him, and presents him to Saul. Saul loves him and keeps him close. David becomes his armour-bearer, and he plays the harp when the evil spirit troubles Saul. David, in God's sight, is the anointed king, but he must suffer before he reigns, however great his energy may be.

An attendant on a warrior, filling a place of trust and honour. When Saul loved David he made him his armourbearer.

David did not hesitate to take his place as a servant, even in the house of a man who would later prove his most bitter enemy. It made no difference to him where he served or what he did. He would guard his father's flocks from lions and bears, or drive an evil spirit away from Saul.

Saul never imagined that the young harp player was taking his first step towards the throne. He never imagined that, when he sent for David, he was sending for the man whom God had anointed to be king. David knew as little. He was soothing with his beautiful music the spirit of the man who would soon become his bitterest enemy, and all the while he was entering a path where he must be disciplined for his high calling. At first Saul loved him greatly; but when he learned, as he soon did, that David was the chosen of God, he hated him to the death.

Saul is attracted to David. The melody has its effect, and he is for the time relieved. He greatly loves him too, and makes him his armour-bearer, but it goes no further. He is still the proud man, though God has rejected him. He has no thought of giving David the place which God had given him. Had he only known it, that place would have meant lasting peace for Saul himself.

Even Saul, at a given moment (1 Sam. 16:21), "loved [David] greatly," because of the relief that he brings him in his sufferings. Michal loves David in a natural way — which does not stop her from despising him later on (2 Sam. 6:16). Last of all, Jonathan loves him with the only love that is true, good, and lasting. He loves him as his own soul. He values him for what David is in himself.

Beauty, ability and power counted for much in Saul's view of David. But his love for David was soon tested and found wanting… Saul might be great, but David was greater. His love for David was forgotten; his indebtedness to David was forgotten. In his envious mind David became a dangerous enemy who was after his throne… Jesus, God's anointed Man, went through the same thing in a far greater measure. In prophecy it could be said of the Lord Jesus, "So they reward me evil for good, and hatred for my love" (Ps. 109:5).

Here is a solemn thought. There is a ministry of Christ so soothing that a soul's fears and distress may find some relief, without any cure that reaches the root. David is plainly a picture of Christ here. By His Spirit, Christ uses the ordinary ministry of His word, with its sweet story of God's love and care, of His power over evil, and of the comfort He brings to His own. That word gives comfort even to those whose hearts are far from God.

The providence of God brings in David by means of one of Saul's servants who knew him, and presents him to Saul. Saul loves him and keeps him near. David becomes his armour-bearer, and he plays the harp when the evil spirit troubles Saul. David, in God's sight, is the anointed king, but he must suffer before he reigns, however great his energy may be.

David was unknown to Saul. Saul was told about his qualities (1 Sam. 16:18), and he loved David greatly (v. 21) for his goodness and for the care David showed him. Yet Saul forgot his origin so completely that he later asks Abner whose son he is (1 Sam. 17:55).

Even Saul, at a given moment (1 Sam. 16:21), "loved [David] greatly," because of the relief that he brings him in his sufferings. Michal loves David according to nature — which does not hinder her from despising him later on (2 Sam. 6:16). Jonathan loves him with the only love that is true, good, and lasting. He loves him as his own soul. He values him for what David is in himself.

His love for David was forgotten; his indebtedness to David was forgotten. David became in his envious mind a dangerous enemy aspiring to his throne. What a change in this poor, deranged man! Instead of love to David he expressed himself towards David in anger (1 Sam. 18:8), violence (1 Sam. 18:11), deceit (1 Sam. 18:21), and murder (1 Sam. 19:1, 10; 1 Sam. 20:33). Jesus, God's anointed Man, met the same treatment in a greater measure. In prophecy it could be said of Him, "They reward Me evil for good, and hatred for My love" (Ps. 109:5). The lesson from this tragic episode in Saul's life is that human nature by itself has no appreciation of Christ.

God prepared David for the kingdom, and He chose him for it Himself. That preparation did not happen in Saul's palace. It happened in the wilderness and in the valley of Elah. It is not that preparation is unnecessary, but that the preparation must be divine if we are to have divine suitability. God might use David's service and music to bring Saul relief, and perhaps to benefit David too. Even so, it did not move things forward at all. David leaves Saul's house and is forgotten by those whom he had benefited. There had been a false start, so there had to be a fresh beginning.

David had lived in the palace as the king's armour-bearer. Saul loved him greatly, and David had done him the most remarkable services. But he passes from this to the humble place of caring for his father's sheep in the wilderness. Out of sight, he serves with as much zeal and satisfaction as in the highest position. The easy way he moves from the one to the other proves the true metal of his soul, and the single purpose of a faithful servant in whatever he is called to do.

That Word does have an effect on people who listen — even people who are not saved. Saul was refreshed and his spirit improved when David played. In the same way, people of the world find themselves quieted and calmed when they hear the sweet strains of the Word of God from someone who knows it well. If this does not lead them by faith to receive the Lord Jesus, the effect is only temporary.