1 Samuel 19:18–21:15

David has been driven out from Saul's court. He has had to flee from his own wife and home. He turns for refuge to his aged and trusted friend Samuel. He does not turn to his relatives in Bethlehem, or to the many thousands in Israel who had praised him so loudly for his exploits.

David flees, naturally enough, first of all to Samuel. Samuel had anointed him. In those days Samuel stood out before everyone as a man set apart from all others by his nearness to God. Samuel, if anyone, had power to stand against Saul himself, and there could be no question that he would do it. Few characters in all Scripture equal Samuel's for that consistent walk with God, and that ability to act for Him. These are the things that create confidence in others.

David tells everything to Samuel, God's representative and prophet. He becomes his companion, and the two of them dwell together. Such is, for David, the result of this trial.

He felt that the man of God was one he could completely trust, and who would prove to be a real "friend in need." Samuel is not like the priest Ahimelech in chapter 21, who "was afraid at the meeting of David, and said to him, Why are you alone, and no man with you?" No; Samuel was in the current of God's thoughts. He understood well how matters stood between Saul, the man God had rejected, and David, His anointed. Without hesitating, Samuel received David and identified himself with him, "not fearing the wrath of the king."

Samuel comes with him to live at Naioth, the gathered "dwellings" of the prophets who had collected around Samuel. The word is a plural, and means both "dwellings" and "pastures"… Here we might imagine David's words to be what he says in the psalm about all who trust in God: "You shall hide them in the secret of Your presence from the pride of man; You shall keep them secretly in a shelter from the strife of tongues." Yet from here he is driven out, to find a better "hiding-place" in God Himself.

He changed his quarters from Ramah to Naioth — probably a suburb of Ramah, and a school of the prophets, some think.

The account in this chapter has its counterpart in Psalm 59, inspired "when Saul sent, and they watched the house [of David] to kill him." Saul's messengers were men of blood gathered against him. They went round the city during the night. All that time David was lifting his heart to the Lord in prayer. He was looking to Him for deliverance (vv. 1-2). He was sure that He would be gracious to him (v. 10). After all, they were seeking his life not "for [his] transgression, nor for [his] sin," but because he belonged to the Lord.

Samuel is lost in David. He lives with David through the season of David's rejection. Then Samuel, the man of prayer and dependence, passes away (1 Sam. 25:1) from the scene of his former ministry, his exercises, and his discipline. All this happens before the rightful king — God's anointed, whom Samuel had owned — takes the sceptre. May we have, like him, the blessing of dependence on God. May we understand the discipline. However searching and sifting it is, it is only leading us to Naioth, to dwell with our Lord and King.

Saul drove David out of his court, and he had to flee from his own wife and home. He turns for refuge, but not to his relatives in Bethlehem. Not to the thousands in Israel who had praised him so loudly for what he had done. He goes to his old and trusted friend Samuel.

Samuel comes with him to live at Naioth, the collected "dwellings" of the prophets who had gathered around Samuel. The word is plural. It means both "dwellings" and "pastures." That fits well with the idea of a school of prophets, which tradition uses to fill out the few details Scripture gives.

He was in step with God's thoughts. He understood well how matters stood between Saul, whom God had rejected, and David, His anointed. Samuel took David in without hesitation and stood with him, "not fearing the wrath of the king." He moved from Ramah to Naioth. That was probably a suburb of Ramah, and some think it was a school of the prophets.

David flees to Samuel, the man who had anointed him. He turns to him as if by instinct, because Samuel had the word of God that he needed for guidance. Some people are ready enough to tell Saul where he can find the enemy he imagines. So Saul chases him there. His relentless hatred has now become the full expression of his character.

Where does the path of the man of faith lead now? To the prophet who was in Israel. The prophet lives apart from it all, with God. He is the right companion for the man of Jehovah's choice, and he strengthens him, until judgment sets aside every hindrance in between, or grace overcomes it. All the same, David is not free from Saul's pursuit, even though he is with Samuel at Ramah. Saul first sends messengers to take him, and finally goes there himself.

Yet he is driven from there too, to find a better hiding place in God Himself.

Against their own will these instruments of the enemy feel the influence of the Spirit of God. In His power they prophesy. It is a serious warning, and it neither converts them nor saves them. Even Saul is forced here to prophesy by the Spirit of God... God is able to speak through the mouth of a Saul who at other times is the mouthpiece of Satan. This only proves that God uses someone as an instrument if it suits Him. But we must tell the difference between the life-giving work of the Holy Spirit and His various works of power.

God knows how to make the wrath of man praise Him, as in this instance.

David flees, naturally enough, first of all to Samuel, who had anointed him. In those days Samuel stood out before everyone: his nearness to God set him apart from all other men. Samuel, if anyone, had power to stand against Saul himself... Samuel comes with him to live at Naioth, the collected "dwellings" of the prophets, who gathered around Samuel. The word is a plural, and means both "dwellings" and "pastures."

In Samuel we read that the company of the prophets were prophesying, and that Samuel was standing as "head" over them. In Corinthians the apostle gives directions for the use of gifts in the assembly, and then says: "If anyone thinks that he is a prophet, or spiritual, he should acknowledge that the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord." So Samuel, standing as head over the prophets, was picturing the Lordship of Christ, His Headship over His saints when they gather as an assembly.

The messengers truly came to take David. But they were in the place where the Spirit of God dwelt (we speak of the type) and acted, so they themselves were taken, subdued, and turned into vessels of His power. The Spirit of God was upon them "and they also prophesied." What a rebuke to us! We have the indwelling Spirit, which neither Samuel nor the prophets had, yet in conflict with the enmity and power of Satan we lean on an arm of flesh, on worldly influence or means.

Since Christ accomplished His great sacrificial work and went up on high, the Holy Spirit is God's gift of love to every believer alike... But this is different. In the Old Testament we sometimes read of the Spirit of God coming upon men for some special service. This is the sovereign act of God, regardless of conversion... we also read that the Spirit of God came upon the messengers of Saul, and even upon the king himself. None of these were saints, for murder was in their hearts at the time.

Apart from the Lord Jesus Himself, the lasting, permanent indwelling of the Holy Spirit rests only on the ground of redemption really accomplished. The temple in which God takes up His home must be clean, and morally suited to Him who is holy... It is little wonder, then, if the Spirit of God left a man like Saul, in whom there was no holiness at all.

Saul loses all conscience. The thought that David was with Samuel ought to have stopped him — Samuel, the man who had anointed him. God put everything in his way to stop him, but he was hardened. When he prophesied himself, he ought to have understood this: the power that made him act at that moment, and that rested on David, was greater than he was. But he despises these signs, as he had despised the first.

How vain to fight against power like this! Who ever hardened himself against God and prospered? On the other hand, what an assurance of One still ready to receive! He would put Saul among the prophets, even by force if that were possible. Yet against all this, as we know, Saul hardened himself. He became more evil in proportion to the grace he resisted.

He is none the better for it. The power of the Spirit of God only makes a man's case more desperate, if he is not born of God. Who are the most terrible examples in the New Testament recorded by the Holy Spirit? Not the people who never had the Spirit, but those who had.

Saul sent messengers three times to kill him, and three times God stepped in with a wonder. God turns the messengers of death into prophets. Saul defies the plain power of God. It is as if he said that God might turn aside his servants, but would never turn him! No act of his rebellion went further than this. The mightiest man is only a reed in the hands of the Almighty. Saul must prophesy. He is no stronger than his servants. Yet his evil heart still held to its purpose against David.

The officers sent to take Jesus (John 7:32) came under a similar power, and were also turned from their purpose. They went back amazed, saying, "No one ever spoke like this man!"... In each case we see God using the enemy to bear witness to His power, as He wills.

Saul loses all conscience. The thought that David was with Samuel should have stopped him — Samuel, the man who had anointed him. God put everything in his way to stop him, but his heart stayed hard. Saul prophesied too. That power made him act at this moment, and it rested on David. He should have understood that it was greater than himself. But he despises these signs, as he had despised the first.

As distinct from the Spirit living in every believer today, we sometimes read in the Old Testament records of the Spirit of God coming upon men for some special service. This is the sovereign act of God, regardless of conversion... we also read that the Spirit of God came upon the messengers of Saul, and even upon the king himself. None of these were saints, for murder was in their hearts at the time.

The power of the Spirit of God only makes a man's case the more desperate, if he is not born of God. Who are the most terrible examples the Holy Spirit records in the New Testament? Not the people who never had the Spirit, but those who had... A man can have every Christian privilege in power, but not life, and end in apostasy.

The messengers did come to take David. But they came to the place where the Spirit of God lived and worked. So they themselves were taken, subdued, and turned into vessels of His power. The Spirit of God was upon them, "and they also prophesied." What a rebuke to us! We have the indwelling Spirit, which neither Samuel nor the prophets had. Yet we trust in human strength, worldly influence or means while we fight the hatred and power of Satan.

The whole scene reminds us of that energy of the Spirit's power. We see it where the people of God are truly gathered together, with nothing to hold back His working. What convicts the man of the world who comes in is not a dazzling speaking in tongues. It is definite prophecy, the ministry of the word of God in its appointed place. Then, "falling on his face, he will worship God and declare that God is really among you" (1 Corinthians 14:23-25).

He was now so completely under the power of the devil that he had lost all respect for Samuel. He would now invade Samuel's own home and drag David out of it... He sent three groups of messengers, no doubt armed, to arrest David. But when they came in sight of Samuel and his group of young prophets, the power of God came on them so strongly that they prophesied along with them... Then, sad to say, Saul went himself. He steeled himself, sure that he would be strong enough to resist that holy power.

"Where are Samuel and David?" the king demands in his rage. He ties their names together as fellow traitors to the crown. It is to the prophet's lasting honour that David's enemies counted him as one with David — standing with the man whom men had rejected, in the darkest hour of his life. Anointing David had been the crowning act of Samuel's life. Now the closing act of his life is to shelter David from the rage of Saul, the king David would soon replace.

Saul loses all conscience. The thought that David was with Samuel should have stopped him — Samuel, the very man who had anointed him. God put every obstacle in his way to stop him, but his heart was hard. When he prophesied himself, he should have seen that the power moving him at that moment, the same power that rested on David, was greater than he was. But he scorned these signs, as he had scorned the first one.

He went to Ramah himself, and by asking directions he found his way to Naioth, where Samuel was. But before he reached Samuel, the Spirit of God took hold of him, and he prophesied just as the others had. His weapons here were useless... God was showing Saul His superior power, not in judgment, but in kindness. Yet this left Saul powerless to harm David, because the power that met him was spiritual.

How useless it is to fight against power like this! Who ever hardened himself against God and prospered? On the other hand, what proof that God was still ready to receive him — a God who would put Saul among the prophets, even by force if that were possible! Yet against all this, as we know, Saul did harden himself. He grew more evil the more grace he resisted, by the steady and unavoidable law of cause and effect.

This could assure David that, though years of wandering lay ahead, no created power could ever harm him, because the LORD was with him. Saul might well have returned home convinced that opposing God is useless. But the flesh never learns God's lessons! Another Saul did heed the voice of the Lord speaking to him out of heaven, to his eternal blessing (Acts 22). Happy Saul of Tarsus!

But even this did not reach Saul's hardened conscience. So he had to learn by a humiliating experience. He went himself to Ramah, and after asking directions he found his way to Naioth where Samuel was. But before he reached Samuel, the Spirit of God took hold of him to prophesy, as the others had. His weapons here were useless. In fact he stripped off his clothes, at least his outer garments. He lay down with no defence at all, that whole day and night. God was showing Saul His superior power, not in judgment, but in kindness. Yet this left Saul helpless to do any harm to David, for it was spiritual power.

And notice that this power works by subduing hostility… Notice also that when the messengers came, the account does not mention David. We are not even told that he was there while the company of the prophets were prophesying. It was no longer, at least while David was at Naioth, a question between Saul and David, but one between God and Satan. The messengers did come to take David. But they had entered the place where the Spirit of God dwelt and acted, and there He took them, subdued them, and turned them into vessels of His power.

Against their own will these instruments of the enemy feel the influence of the Spirit of God. In His power they prophesy. It is a serious warning, yet it neither converts them nor saves them… We must distinguish between the life-giving work of the Holy Spirit and His various operations in power. Power may give a great knowledge of the Word. It may even give the energy that uses this knowledge for others. But it never leads us to judge ourselves and to take Christ as the One who answers our need. It gives neither repentance nor faith.

He is none the better for it. The power of the Spirit of God only makes a man's case the more desperate, if he is not born of God.

And how Saul's mind must have gone back to those earlier days! That was before the Spirit was grieved away from him. Back then all the possibilities of God's call to the throne of Israel were opening before him! What tender memories to touch his heart, and to bring this wanderer back to himself, if that could be! Then, how useless to fight against power like this! Who ever hardened himself against God and prospered? On the other hand, what an assurance of One who is still ready to receive! He would put Saul among the prophets even by force, if that were possible. Yet against all this, as we know, Saul hardened himself. He became more evil in proportion to the grace he resisted.

"How the mighty have fallen!" (2 Samuel 1:27). At Ramah we see the king lying low before the power of God. At Endor he lies stretched out in the house of a witch (1 Samuel 28:20). At Gilboa he lies dead on the battlefield (1 Samuel 31:4). A miserable end to an unhappy life — a life that began with every advantage a gracious God could give.

Besides its ordinary meaning, this expression was often used of a man without his outer cloak. 1 Sam. 19:24; Isa. 20:2; John 21:7.

His weapons here were useless. In fact, he stripped off his clothes, at least his outer garments. He lay down with no defence at all, that whole day and night. God was showing Saul His superior power, not in judgment, but in kindness. Yet this made Saul helpless to harm David, because it was spiritual power. This ought to have spoken deeply to Saul's conscience. It ought also to have encouraged David: he could always depend on God's sovereign hand to protect him.

It was no longer, at least while David was at Naioth, a question between Saul and David, but one between God and Satan. The messengers did come to take David. But they came into the place where the Spirit of God dwelt and acted, and the Spirit took them, subdued them, and made them vessels of His power... We have the indwelling Spirit, which neither Samuel nor the prophets had. What a rebuke to us, then, when we trust human strength, worldly influence or means, against the hatred and power of Satan. "He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world," writes the apostle John.

God is able to speak through the mouth of a Saul who at other times is the mouthpiece of Satan. This only proves that God uses someone as an instrument if it suits Him. But we must distinguish between the Holy Spirit's work in giving life and His various workings in power. Power may give a man great knowledge of the Word, and perhaps also the energy to use that knowledge for others. But it never leads us to judge ourselves, or to take Christ as the One who answers our needs. It gives neither repentance nor faith. The Spirit must work in the heart to reach the conscience, to give an awareness of sin, and to lead a soul to God. Without this, there is no new life.

He is none the better for it. The power of the Spirit of God only makes a man's case the more desperate, if he is not born of God... A man can hold every Christian privilege in power, but not in life, and end in apostasy... Only one kind of person can be wicked in this worst way. It is the person who has borne Christ's name and then abandoned Him with contempt and blasphemy.

How Saul's mind must also have gone back to those earlier days! Back then he had not yet grieved the Spirit away, and all the possibilities of God's call to the throne of Israel were opening before him. What tender memories to touch the heart with, and to bring this wanderer back to himself, if it might be... what an assurance of One still ready to receive! He would put Saul among the prophets even by force, if that were possible. Yet against all this, as we know, Saul hardened himself.

He came within sight of Samuel and David with murder in his heart. It is certain that the mighty power of the Spirit of God then overwhelmed him. Well might observers say, perhaps sarcastically, knowing what kind of man he was, "Is Saul also among the prophets?"

The natural man remains under the terrible "What have you done?" once addressed to Cain (Gen. 4:10). But the man who is justified by faith, and persecuted without cause, can say like David: "What have I done?" David could speak like this only at this point in his career. Later, when his son Absalom persecuted him, he could no longer say, "What have I done?" Still later, when he had committed the serious sin of numbering the people, he had to confess to God while under His judgment: "I have sinned greatly in what I have done" (2 Sam. 24:10).

But only One could say: "I always do the things that are pleasing to Him who sent Me." Only One, at the last moment of His life, could hear the testimony of the converted criminal: "This man has done nothing wrong" (Luke 23:41).

Here we see Saul prophesying among the prophets. So a power far above his own was working through him. Was he the better for that? Much worse. We may notice that after this his progress in evil is appalling. "Then David fled from Naioth in Ramah and came and said before Jonathan, 'What have I done? What is my guilt?'" — for David did not trust this. David did not think himself safer because Saul had been prophesying.

The second part of David's history of trial has begun. He has become a fugitive. But what a moment to flee from Naioth! Saul's intentions were clear, but God's sheltering care and power were just as clear. How irrational unbelief is, and God may show it to our shame.

David had counted on Jonathan's mediation before, and for a time it had worked. So he comes to him again. He does not come now to ask his help in bringing about a reconciliation, which he knew was impossible. He comes to bring matters to a head, so that there could be no mistake about the hatred and its cause. He comes to Jonathan and asks outright what his sin against Saul is, for which Saul is seeking his life.

Later he sheltered David from Saul's hatred. He proved his love in this: though he was heir to the throne, he agreed that David should be king and that he himself would be next to him. Still, Jonathan stayed with his father instead of with the one God had anointed to be His king. And with his father he died.

Then David fled from Naioth in Ramah and came and said before Jonathan, "What have I done? What is my guilt?" David did not trust this. David did not think himself safer because Saul had been prophesying... "Behold, my father does nothing either great or small without disclosing it to me. And why should my father hide this from me? It is not so." That is what Jonathan liked to think. He did not know what would come of that power resting on a man with not the smallest conscience toward God.

David, the man of faith, knows the danger his faithfulness has brought on him. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows that his only resource is in God. Jonathan, meanwhile, is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character... He does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, or of insight into the human heart. It is always like this for a believer who keeps any tie to the world. Jonathan still has not understood that God has rejected Saul. Yet all his confidence is in David.

He asks Jonathan why Saul was so determined to kill him... Jonathan cannot believe his father would go that far: if he had, he would have told Jonathan. But David insists that Saul is set on killing him. This time Saul has hidden it from Jonathan, because he knows Jonathan is David's friend. In fact, he assured Jonathan "there is but a step between me and death" (v. 3).

Jonathan can hardly believe that his father means David harm. But before he puts it to the test, his devotion to David shows plainly. His faith and his heart acknowledge what the blinded Saul cannot receive (1 Sam. 20:13-17).

"Therefore send and bring him to me, for he shall surely die." Then Jonathan answered Saul his father, "Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" But Saul hurled his spear at him to strike him. So Jonathan knew that his father was determined to put David to death. And Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger. It was not for himself, but for David. He saw his father's murderous hatred, and nothing could turn it aside.

We must now ask at this point, Did Jonathan miss the path of faith here? Should he have identified himself with David and fled with him now from his father's court?... The question is a delicate one and involves many details. The usual application is that Jonathan missed the path of faith here. By returning to his father's court, he refused to take the place of separation.

David was afraid of Saul even being present at Naioth. He went back to find Jonathan, hoping Jonathan might plead with his father again. He asks Jonathan what reason Saul had for being determined to kill him. This could only be justified if David were guilty of serious wrongdoing. David insists that Saul is set on killing him. This time Saul has hidden it from Jonathan, because he knows Jonathan is friendly with David.

In 1 Samuel 20 something ominous seems to have changed. Had Jonathan's watchfulness and concern relaxed? How was it that he knew nothing of his father's wicked plots against David? "My father does nothing either great or small without disclosing it to me. And why should my father hide this from me? It is not so." Yet it was so, and Jonathan was sadly mistaken in thinking his father would let him in on his purpose. The man who had said before, "Saul my father seeks to kill you," should not have been fooled by appearances. The love in him was still ready to serve and to help. But it needed to be stirred by words like these: "Truly, as the LORD lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And Jonathan's love was now stirred.

David, the man of faith, knows well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. Seeing only a step between himself and death (v. 3), he knows that his only resource is in God. Jonathan is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character... He really does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, or of insight into the human heart. It is always so for the believer when he is tied to the world by any link whatsoever.

Despite Saul's assurance to Jonathan that David would not die, the sad words of the fugitive, "There is but a step between me and death," told the exact truth. The same was true of David's Son and Lord. He went from place to place through this very land of Israel, in practice a fugitive from the relentless hatred of His enemies. His death was decided early in His course. Only God's providence and His restraining hand kept our Lord from His persecutors. There was always "but a step" between Him and death.

David failed through unbelief, as we all do sooner or later. "Now I shall perish one day by the hand of Saul" — but he did not. True, humanly speaking there was only a step between him and death. But God was between him and death. With God in between, what did it matter whether there was one step or a thousand?

After a very trying period of insult and hatred from Saul, David felt that Saul would one day defeat him and kill him. No doubt he had many reasons for believing this. But were his fears faith? Had he forgotten his anointing?... When circumstances are hard and trials seem impossible, it is easy to get discouraged, lose heart, and let faith lapse... Sadly, David's failure of faith led him into circumstances far beneath his dignity as the LORD's anointed.

In 1 Samuel 20 some troubling change seems to have taken place. Had Jonathan's watchfulness and concern relaxed? How was it that he knew nothing of his father's wicked plots against David?... Jonathan was sadly mistaken in thinking that his father would let him in on his purpose. He who had said before, "Saul my father seeks to kill you," should not have been deceived by false appearances. The love in him was still ready to serve and to help: "Whatever your soul desires, I will do it for you." But it needed words like these to rouse it: "Truly as the Lord lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And now Jonathan's love was roused.

Is this the language of your heart to your precious Lord? "Whatever your soul desires I will do it for you." This goes far beyond the law, good and holy and just as it was. It is the God-given desire to do the will of the Lord — whatever He desires me to do. And Jonathan was ready to serve David in his father's house. He was ready to show David what his father really felt, kindness or hatred. I think we may say he was truly David's man in the house of Saul.

When David appeals to Jonathan like this, he gets an immediate and loyal reply. Whatever he proposes to find out the truth about Saul's attitude, Jonathan is ready to go along with.

Jonathan's love (ch. 20) was an oasis to David in the desert of persecution which he now feels most sharply. Driven from home, a wanderer, a fugitive, he had nowhere to lay his head. The power of Israel wielded by Saul is against him. So it was with the Lord Jesus... Yet for Him there was a house at Bethany, a little green spot where He could meet with hearts that answered to His own.

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him... The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom. No command was given to David by his brother to be present at a sacrifice in Bethlehem. It was a story invented by David and repeated by Jonathan. "So he is not coming to the feast." No — he feared Saul, and that is why he is not coming to the feast. There was untruthfulness, and neither seemed to have any conscience about it.

Jonathan's feelings towards him did not change. He still loved him as his own soul, but he could not go beyond that. He gave him the first place. "You shall be king," he said... But he added: "I shall be next to you." He exalted David, but he did not humble himself, and that was the heart of the matter. He had not lost sight of himself in his love for David... What a different story it would have been if he had lost sight of himself, thrown in his lot with David, and gone out into rejection with him.

The new moon was a festival among the Israelites. People watched for it on the hills, and as soon as they saw it, a trumpet sounded to announce it.

The feast of the new moon celebrated the start of a new period of time. But it was marked by the moon's monthly reappearing, not by the sun's yearly return. It points to the new phases of blessing for Israel. May we not see a suggestion here of a new era dawning for Israel in David himself? He was anointed as king and openly separated from poor Saul, whose light had indeed been eclipsed.

David's place, according to court custom, would be at the king's table at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked after him, Jonathan was to use the excuse described above. If Saul then accepted it, all was well. But if it enraged him, that would be a clear sign that his motive for wanting David present was evil.

The next day was the new moon, when David was normally required to eat with the king, evidently over a period of three days. David proposes to be absent, and would hide in the countryside. But he asks Jonathan to excuse him to Saul by telling him that David asked permission to go to Bethlehem to attend a yearly sacrifice for his family. Of course this was deception, which we must not think of defending.

David is only a man. Remembering that, we need not try to justify every detail here. We must also be slow to condemn him for what was clearly within his rights. In fact, he does not seem to have gone to his father's house at all. So we leave it there, and only point to the possible weakness of the faith that would take this course. We hardly think anyone would feel that our Lord would have done the same.

Readers of Scripture are sometimes startled to read of acts of deception by people the Spirit of God generally commends. They wonder how these things can be. Rahab's lie about where the spies were hiding is one example, and David's conduct here is another. But why should we wonder? Is the flesh any better in the saint than in the sinner? Can any number of years of communion with God improve it, or make the saint less open to temptation from it?

The Spirit of God records the shortcomings of saints in both the Old and New Testaments because He is a faithful biographer. He would tell us the worst as well as the best about those in whom He is interested. He usually records their sad misdeeds without comment. This is so that we may exercise our minds and hearts as we read, and form a judgement from what we know of Scripture as a whole about what pleases God and what does not.

For a little while David is, as it were, to be hidden until Saul is removed and the purpose of God is ripe for fulfilment. So the Lord says to the Messiah, who is now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool." … Through all David's sorrow God was preparing his way to the throne.

The following day was the new moon, when David normally had to eat with the king, evidently over a period of three days. David proposes to be absent, and would hide in the countryside. He asks Jonathan to excuse him to Saul by saying that David asked permission to go to Bethlehem for a yearly sacrifice with his family. Of course this was deception, and we must not think of defending it. But if Saul was content with David's absence, that would show he was no longer holding the hatred that had surfaced more than once. If Saul became angry, that would show he meant to kill David.

There was a little plot between David and Jonathan to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith… His brother had given David no command to be at a sacrifice in Bethlehem. It was a story invented by David and repeated by Jonathan. He feared Saul — that was the real reason he did not come to the feast. There was untruthfulness, and neither seemed to have any conscience about it… If God passed over (I do not say sanctioned) their double-dealing, we must not follow their example. It is a warning instead, to judge the hidden springs of our actions.

Clearly it was not of the Lord that David should put into Jonathan's mouth a story with no truth in it. Here we see the man apart from the type. From now on, whenever Saul's hatred presses him and he trusts his own inventions, we have to notice how untruthfulness marked him. David was born in sin, and a transgressor too. Yet he shows us what it is to be the man of God's purpose, in whom God would work out His plan. He did not deserve the honour and greatness, being only a type of Him who is worthy of it all.

David's guile brought sad consequences for Ahimelech and his house. Indeed, on the earlier occasion it nearly cost Jonathan his life. Saul was far too shrewd to accept the story of a sacrifice at Bethlehem. In his anger he threw his javelin at Jonathan. His jealousy and hate made him quick to see through it… The effects of one man's sin are seldom confined to himself.

David is only a man. We need not try to justify every detail here, and we must also be slow to condemn him for what was clearly within his rights. In fact, he does not seem to have gone to his father's house at all. We leave it there, only drawing attention to the possible weakness of the faith that would fall back on this course. We hardly think anyone would feel that our Lord would have done exactly the same.

Readers of Holy Scripture are sometimes startled to read of acts of deceit by people the Spirit of God generally commends. They wonder how these things can be… But why should we wonder? Is flesh anything better in the saint than in the sinner? Can any number of years of communion with God improve it, or make the saint less open to temptation from it?

Bethlehem was important in the life of David, the son of Jesse. His great-grandfather Boaz, his grandfather Obed, his father Jesse and he were all born there. There Samuel, the prophet and judge of Israel, anointed him king in place of Saul, the unfaithful and rejected king. It was in his own town that David looked after his father's sheep and did his duties faithfully. David combined royal dignity with lowly service. That blend was later seen in divine perfection in the Son of God.

Between them they agree to a test in this matter. The next day was the new moon, when as a rule David was required to eat with the king, evidently over a period of three days. David proposes to be absent... if Saul was content with David's absence, this would give confidence that he was no longer holding the hatred that had surfaced more than once. If Saul became angry, this would show that he meant to kill David (v.7).

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table, at the feast of the new moon. Should Saul miss him and ask after him, Jonathan was to use the trick described above. If Saul accepted it, all was well. But if the excuse enraged him, that would be a clear sign: his motive for wanting David there was evil.

"What have I done? What is my sin before your father, that he seeks my life?" And he said to him, "Far from it! You shall not die... It is not so." That is what Jonathan wanted to believe. He did not realise what would come of the power that had been on Saul, in a man with no conscience toward God at all... "But truly, as the LORD lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death."

The need for truth on the inside seemed unknown to David and Jonathan. There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him... The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom. David's brother gave him no command to attend a sacrifice in Bethlehem. David invented the story, and Jonathan repeated it... If God passed over their double-dealing — and I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden motives behind what we do.

Is the flesh any better in the saint than in the sinner? Can any number of years of communion with God improve it, or make the saint less open to temptation from it? As well expect the Ethiopian to change his skin, or the leopard his spots!

Jonathan stands firm and asks why he should be put to death. His answer is the javelin, the one Saul had aimed again and again at David. So there can be no question that evil is fully determined.

Now, for a little while, David is, as it were, to be hidden till Saul is removed, and the purpose of God is ripe for fulfilment... God through all David's sorrow was preparing his way to the throne.

He had shown remarkable faithfulness in service. His love for David was very real, and at times self-sacrificing. He could speak for him, and speak nobly and well; but he could not, or rather, did not follow him... He kissed and wept, but let the one he embraced go his lonely way, a banished man, while he returned to the city.

The natural man remains under the terrible "What have you done?" once spoken to Cain (Gen. 4:10). But the man who is justified by faith, persecuted without cause, can say like David: "What have I done?" Yet David could speak like this only at this point in his career. Later, when persecuted by his son Absalom, he could no longer say, "What have I done?"

David repeats that if there is indeed guilt in him, he does not refuse even the harshest judgment. Let Jonathan himself strike him. Of course, Jonathan rejects any such thought, and undertakes to do all that had been asked. He reminds David, too, that if there were the slightest evidence of danger, he would warn him.

Here David asks Jonathan for kind consideration. He tells him too that if he (David) was guilty of wrongdoing, he would rather have Jonathan kill him than Saul.

The love in him was still ready to serve and to help: "Whatever your soul desires, I will do it for you." But words like these had to rouse it: "Truly as the LORD lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And now Jonathan's love was roused. He would even risk his life for David, and a new covenant comes in here — not only between them personally, as it was at the first, but on behalf of their two houses. This held good with David after Jonathan's death.

This covenant itself was the fruit of love alone. Jonathan had made no great sacrifice for David — he had not shared his fortunes, nor obtained for him any easing of his sufferings. But David is faithful to his oath and to his love.

When David said, "Is there yet anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake" (2 Sam. 9:1, 3), he was illustrating the kindness that God shows to those who are, by nature, at enmity with Him. The covenant that David had made with Jonathan (1 Sam. 20:14-15) was the reason for his words and action: but guilty sinners had no claim on the kindness of God. In His sovereign love, God has taken up guilty sinners like you and me. He has given us the blessings of sonship and heirship in association with His own Son, to show the universe what His kindness is.

David, the man of faith, knows very well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows his only resource is in God. But Jonathan is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character. He wishes that the Lord might be with David as He had been with Saul (v. 13). He does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, or of insight into the human heart. It is always so for the believer when he is linked to the world in any way. Jonathan has still not understood that God has rejected Saul, even though on the other hand all his confidence is in David.

Here David asks Jonathan to deal kindly with him. He tells him too that if he were guilty of wrongdoing, he would rather have Jonathan kill him than Saul. But Jonathan's friendship for David was real. He assures him again that if he knew Saul meant to kill him, he would certainly not keep it from David.

David, the man of faith, knows well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows that his only resource is in God. Jonathan, by contrast, is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character... He does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, nor of insight into the human heart. It is always so for the believer who keeps any link with the world at all.

Saul is brought before us prophesying among the prophets. So a power far above his own was working through him. Was he the better for it? Much worse... David did not trust this. He did not think himself safer because Saul had been prophesying... That is what Jonathan liked to think. He did not realise what the result would be of the power that had come upon Saul, where there was not the smallest conscience toward God.

When David told Jonathan of his great danger, Jonathan refused to believe it... Both were men of faith, putting their trust in Jehovah, and this was the source of their great affection. Jonathan was also deeply aware of David's destiny as the Lord's anointed... And Jonathan had to taste his father's anger. Saul's words to his own son are vicious, and in his rage he threw a javelin at him to strike him. How this shows Satan's hatred! It is aimed at Christ, and at all who are one with Him, as David and Jonathan were one.

The need for truth in the inward being seemed unknown to David and Jonathan. There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast over him. Since that day many a believer has done worse, with more light and less cause for fear. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though in His wisdom He uses them... If God passed over their double-dealing — I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of our actions.

Jonathan's lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us. Yet he lacked one thing, one thing only: he did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David's afflictions with more than his heart alone. Because he did not, he later had to share his father's defeat and ruin.

David, the man of faith, knows perfectly well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows his only resource is in God. Jonathan, meanwhile, is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character... He really does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, nor of insight into the human heart. It is always so for the believer when he is linked to the world by any tie whatever.

Saul is brought before us prophesying among the prophets. So a power far above his own was working through him. Was he the better for that? Much worse. After this his progress in evil is appalling. David did not trust this. David did not think himself safer because Saul had been prophesying.

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked after him, Jonathan was to use the excuse they had planned. If Saul accepted it, all was well. If it enraged him, that would be a clear sign: his reason for wanting David present was evil.

In answer Jonathan takes him out to a field, no doubt a wooded area. There he calls on the Lord God of Israel as witness. Whether Saul showed a friendly attitude or a hostile one, Jonathan would faithfully let David know. In the second case he would send David away in peace, asking the blessing of the Lord to go with him.

David could not return openly to the neighbourhood. Many there would doubtless have been willing to sacrifice his life to win favour with king Saul. Jonathan too could not stay away for long. With his father in such a jealous state, that would have aroused suspicion. So the plan is arranged. Jonathan will pretend to practise his marksmanship. The position of the arrows — close at hand, or far beyond the mark — will show whether David can return in safety or must flee.

The need for truth in the inward parts seemed unknown to David and Jonathan. There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him... David's brother had given him no command to be present at a sacrifice in Bethlehem. It was a story invented by David and repeated by Jonathan... If God passed over their double-dealing — and I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of action, and to see that everything matches truth in the inward parts.

I am sure Jonathan could not have loved David more. His love was as strong here as when he first made that covenant with him. But the outward circumstances had changed, and they tested Jonathan... David was hiding in the field, but the city was still in the heart of Jonathan, and he was not prepared to follow David into the field and into the cave of Adullam. It is only as we accept the rejection of Christ that we shall be prepared to suffer with Him.

But he is not yet ready to give up his former position without a struggle. He leaves Naioth to seek Jonathan and find out from him whether it is beyond recovery.

In Jonathan we see the godly in Israel owning their king. They confess Him before they see His glory; and they are themselves weak and in fear. Simeon, Anna, and Nathanael confessed Him. But Nicodemus is the one most like Jonathan. He too came to the Lord Jesus in secret, for fear of the Jews, just as Jonathan came to David in fear of his father, unknown to his father and to the nation at large.

Even when David is driven away, Jonathan's faith is not shaken. His heart is still tied to the man his soul loved. That love began when David, young and glowing with the glory of his victory over Goliath, answered Saul with a modesty that made the glory shine brighter. He loves him when dishonoured and a fugitive. He acknowledges him as God's chosen one, and ties the hopes of his own family to the glory of the one he loves.

In chapter 20 Jonathan, slow to believe his father's ill-will, renews his covenant with David, who now becomes an exile.

He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. He had already stripped himself of the signs of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in David's hand. It is complete and perfect submission.

The need for truth in the inward parts seemed unknown to David and Jonathan. There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him. Since that day many a believer has done worse, with more light and less reason to fear. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom... Even if God passed over their deceit — I do not say He approved it — it is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of our actions.

David was hiding in the field, but the city was still in the heart of Jonathan. He was not ready to follow David into the field and into the cave of Adullam. It is only as we accept the rejection of Christ that we shall be ready to suffer with Him.

Still, Jonathan was a great loser by the course he took. He gave up much fellowship with David and many opportunities of real service. He was not even consistent with his own stated hope. If the kingdom was certain to David, it had to depart from Saul... Standing with Christ in His rejection must be hard on the flesh. What ties must be broken! What friendships given up! What scorn provoked! And is not the call of the Holy Spirit growing more urgent every day, to "go to Him outside the camp and bear the reproach He endured"? Israel's heroes were in the caves with David. They were not enjoying the fields, vineyards, and honours Saul handed out.

In answer Jonathan takes him out to a field, no doubt a wooded area. There he calls the Lord God of Israel as witness. Whether Saul turned out friendly or hostile, Jonathan would faithfully tell David. In the latter case he would send David away in peace, desiring the blessing of the Lord to go with him.

"My father does nothing, either great or small, without telling me. So why should my father hide this from me? It is not so." Yet it was so, and Jonathan was badly mistaken in thinking his father would tell him what he intended. He had said before, "Saul my father seeks to kill you." He should not have let appearances fool him. The love in him was still ready to serve and to help: "Whatever your soul desires, I will do it for you." But it needed stirring by words like these: "Truly as the Lord lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And now Jonathan's love was awake. He would even risk his life for David.

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table, at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked about him, Jonathan was to give the agreed excuse. If Saul let it pass, all was well. But if it made him furious, that would be a clear sign his motive for wanting David there was evil.

David had been anointed king and was now openly separated from poor Saul, whose light had been eclipsed. May we not see in this the dawn of a new era for Israel?

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him, for since that day many a believer has, with more light and less cause for fear, done worse. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom... Even if God passed over their double-dealing — and I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden motives behind what we do.

In Jonathan we see the godly in Israel owning their king. They confess Him before they see His glory, and they are themselves weak and in fear... Nicodemus is most like Jonathan. For fear of the Jews he came secretly to the Lord Jesus. Jonathan came to David in the same way, afraid of his father, and unnoticed by him and by the nation at large. He acknowledges David as the king of Israel.

Jonathan's lovable, sympathetic character endears him to us. Yet he lacked one thing, and one thing only: he did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties should not count.

This situation tests Saul's state again. Jonathan can hardly believe his father's ill-will. But before he puts it to the proof, he shows his devotion to David very plainly. His faith and his heart acknowledge what the blinded Saul cannot receive.

The love in him was still ready to serve and to help. "Whatever your soul desires, I will do it for you." But words like these had to rouse it: "Truly, as the Lord lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And now Jonathan's love was roused. He would even risk his life for David. A new covenant comes in here too, not only between them personally, as at the first, but on behalf of their two households.

There he calls on the Lord God of Israel as witness. Whether Saul showed a friendly attitude or a hostile one, Jonathan would faithfully let David know. In the second case he would send David away in peace, wanting the blessing of the Lord to go with him. He also asks David to think of his own family, and to show them kindness when God cuts off David's enemies and makes him king over Israel.

David, the man of faith, knows well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows that his only resource is in God. Jonathan is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2). He has a certain confidence in his father's character. He wishes that the Lord might be with David as He had been with Saul (v. 13). He does not reach a high level of spiritual understanding, or of insight into the human heart. It is always so for a believer who has any ties at all to the world. Jonathan has still not understood that God has rejected Saul, even though all his confidence is in David.

How Jonathan's lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us! Yet he lacked one thing, one thing only: he did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David's afflictions with more than his heart. Because he did not, he was later forced to share his father's defeat and ruin.

Jonathan's love (ch. 20) was an oasis to David in the desert of persecution which he now feels most sharply. Driven from home, a wanderer, a fugitive, he had nowhere to lay his head. The power of Israel, wielded by Saul, is against him. So it was with the Lord Jesus. Foxes had holes, birds of the air had nests, the cunning and the unclean had a place in this world; He, the Lord, had none. Yet to Him there was a house at Bethany, a little green spot where He could meet with hearts that responded to His own.

This sad but deeply moving meeting of David and Jonathan holds more than their love for each other. In Jonathan we see the godly in Israel owning their king. They confess Him before they see His glory; and they are themselves weak and in fear. Nicodemus is most like Jonathan. He too came to the Lord Jesus in secret, for fear of the Jews, just as Jonathan came to David in fear of his father, unknown to him and to the nation. He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. Earlier he had stripped off the signs of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in the hand of David. It is complete and perfect submission. There could be no fuller confession of David's rights as king of Israel, for he pleads not only for himself, but also for continued kindness to his house forever.

David, the man of faith, knows very well the danger his faithfulness exposed him to. He sees only a step between himself and death (v. 3), and he knows that his only resource is in God. Jonathan is still counting on the help he believes he can give his friend (v. 2)… Jonathan has still not understood that God has rejected Saul, even though all his confidence is in David. Is he not assured of David's power in the future and of his goodwill?… And when does Jonathan choose to commend himself to David's protection? At the moment when David is fleeing, his life exposed at every instant! Is it not the same for us? Have we not found our protector, our refuge, and all our hope in a rejected Christ?

Jonathan sees nothing beyond David's throne being set up in power. In this he was right. Nothing on this earth will ever replace it. But to outward eyes, how unlikely this looked! David was now a fugitive, yet he was to sit on a throne, and the house of Saul would owe its escape from death to his mercy. Jonathan expected to see David begin his reign, but he did not expect to outlive him.

Jonathan pleads, but his plea agrees with the counsels of God, and so his prayer has a prophetic aspect.

David kept the covenant he had made. At the height of his glory and greatness he remembered it, and his kindness to Mephibosheth proved it (2 Sam. 9). Later, near the end of his reign, he acted on it again. He spared Jonathan's son from being hanged by the Gibeonites for Saul's slaughter of the Hivites (2 Sam. 21:7).

In faithfulness to his oath, David shows Mephibosheth the kindness of God. This is indeed a faint foreshadowing of the kindness that God now in grace shows to poor repentant sinners who trust in Him.

The covenant that David had made with Jonathan (1 Sam. 20:14-15) was the reason for David's words and action. But guilty sinners had no claim on the kindness of God. In His sovereign love, God has taken up such guilty sinners… He has given us the blessings of sonship and heirship in association with His own Son, to show the universe what His kindness is.

He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. He had before stripped himself of the emblems of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in the hand of David. It is complete and perfect submission. No confession of David's rights as king of Israel could be fuller. He pleads not only for himself, but also for continued kindness to his house forever.

To outward eyes it hardly looked possible. David had now become a fugitive, yet he was going to sit on a throne — and the house of Saul would owe its escape from death to his mercy! Jonathan expected to see David begin his reign, but he did not expect to outlive him.

Jonathan has still not understood that God has rejected Saul, even though all his confidence is in David... He forgets himself again here, declaring that the kingdom belongs to his friend. And when is it that Jonathan chooses to commend himself to David's protection? At the moment when David is fleeing, his life exposed at every instant! Is it not the same for us? Have we not found our protector, our refuge, and all our hope in a rejected Christ?

When David said, "Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" (2 Sam. 9:1, 3), he was illustrating the kindness that God shows to those who are, by nature, at enmity with Him. The covenant that David had made with Jonathan (1 Sam. 20:14-15) was the reason for his words and action: but guilty sinners had no claim on the kindness of God.

He remembers his covenant with Jonathan. He had bound himself by promises he would never take back (1 Sam. 20:14-17). He could not and would not break them. Mephibosheth had nothing to fear, for his judge tells him, "I will show you kindness."

No one can take Mephibosheth's portion away from him: he will "eat at my table always" (vv. 7, 10); "he ate always at the king's table" (v. 13). "Do not cut off your steadfast love from my house forever" (1 Sam. 20:15)... We have these same privileges. The whole line of favors that were Mephibosheth's is our portion now and in the future.

Jonathan entreats, but his entreaty is in accord with the counsels of God, and therefore his prayer has a prophetic aspect. We see in this the covenanted blessings of the saved remnant in the age to come... The promise is given, repeated, and confirmed with an oath — two immutable things.

The love in him was still ready to serve and to help. "Whatever your soul desires, I will do it for you." But words like these had to stir that love: "Truly, as the LORD lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." And now Jonathan's love was roused. He would even risk his life for David. A new covenant comes in here. It is not only between them personally, as it was at the first, but on behalf of their houses. This held good with David after Jonathan's death.

In Jonathan we see the godly in Israel owning their king. They confess Him before they see His glory; and they are themselves weak and in fear... He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. Earlier he had stripped off the signs of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in the hand of David. It is complete and perfect submission. No one could confess David's rights as king of Israel more fully. He pleads not only for himself, but also for continued kindness to his house forever... Jonathan entreats, but his entreaty agrees with God's own purposes, and so his prayer has a prophetic aspect.

Here he forgets himself again, and declares that the kingdom belongs to his friend. And when is it that Jonathan chooses to put himself under David's protection? At the moment when David is fleeing, his life exposed at every instant! Is it not the same for us? Have we not found our protector, our refuge, and all our hope in a rejected Christ?

To outward eyes it hardly looked as if David, now a fugitive, would sit on a throne. Still less did it look as if the house of Saul would owe their lives to his mercy!... The covenant then made, David kept. At the height of his glory and greatness he remembered it, and his kindness to Mephibosheth was a proof of it (2 Sam. 9). And later on, near the close of his reign, he acted on it, sparing Jonathan's son from being hanged by the Gibeonites.

He might think of his lameness. He might call himself a dead dog. But in his own mind, no sense of being unable to serve the king was to block the flow of the king's favour... "For Jonathan your father's sake" — that was the ground, and it could never change, for Jonathan was dead. If he had still been alive, he might by some act have forfeited the king's favour. Being dead, that was impossible.

Jonathan's lovable and caring character endears him to us. Yet he lacked one thing, and one thing only. He did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David's sufferings with more than his heart alone. Because he did not, he later had to share his father's defeat and ruin.

It is beautiful to see this absence of self-interest in Jonathan. He stands before the very man who would inherit all the rights that birth seemed to have given to Saul's son. Ah, this is because he loved David as his own soul. From the beginning he had given power, authority, the kingdom — in a word, everything — to the son of Jesse.

Some suppose that this was only personal affection. They are greatly mistaken. That affection was there. But Jonathan was a man of faith, and no love matches the character, power and permanence of a love that faith drives. The more Jonathan's soul took in his friend's qualities, and also the destiny God had assigned him, the more David grew day by day in the love of Jonathan's heart.

The love in him was still ready to serve and to help. He said, "Whatever you say, I will do for you." But it took words like these to stir him: "As the Lord lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death." Now Jonathan's love was stirred. He would even risk his life for David. A new covenant comes in here. It is not only between the two of them, as the first one was, but for their houses as well.

He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. He had already stripped himself of the signs of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in David's hand. It is complete and perfect submission. No one could confess David's rights as king of Israel more fully. He pleads not only for himself, but for lasting kindness to his house forever. Jonathan asks, and what he asks agrees with the purpose of God. So his prayer has a prophetic character.

When does Jonathan choose to commit himself to David's protection? At the moment when David is fleeing, his life in danger every instant! Is it not the same for us? Have we not found our protector, our refuge, and all our hope in a rejected Christ?

Long before, Jonathan had asked David to show him the kindness of the Lord while he still lived, and never to cut off that kindness from his house — and he made David swear again (1 Sam. 20:14–17). Keeping his oath, David shows Mephibosheth the kindness of God. It is a faint picture of the kindness God now shows in grace to poor repentant sinners who trust Him.

Jonathan's lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us. Yet he lacked one thing, one thing only. He did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties should not count.

The whole question is a delicate one. But one thing must stay untouched all through the discussion. Jonathan's devotion to David is a lovely example of the devotion of heart to our Lord that should mark us all.

The new moon among the Israelites was a festival. People watched for it on the hills, and as soon as they saw it, a trumpet sounded to announce it.

The feast of the new moon celebrated the start of a new period of time. That period was measured not by the yearly turn of the sun, but by the monthly reappearing of the moon. It pictures the new phases of blessing for Israel. David had been anointed as king and openly separated from poor Saul, whose light had indeed been eclipsed. May we not see in this a suggestion that a new era for Israel had arrived? The nation must still wait for the rising — not of a moon, not of some earthly satellite, but of the Sun of Righteousness with healing in His wings, to bring in the new day for them and for the earth.

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked after him, Jonathan was to give the excuse they had agreed on. If Saul accepted it, all was well. But if it enraged him, that was a clear sign that his reason for wanting David there was evil.

David proposes to be absent and to hide in the countryside. He asks Jonathan to excuse him to Saul by saying that David asked permission to go to Bethlehem for a yearly sacrifice for his family. Of course this was deception, which we must not think of defending.

Remember that David is only a man. We need not try to justify every detail here, and we must also be slow to condemn him for what was clearly within his rights. In fact, he does not seem to have gone to his father's house at all. So we leave this, only pointing out the possible weakness of the faith that would take this course. We hardly think anyone would feel that our Lord would have done exactly the same.

Judging by outward appearance, David was the rejected outcast. Yet see how beautifully faith knew him as the chosen of the Lord. When the new moon came, and the king sat in his seat, David's place was empty. Yet how fully Jonathan confessed David, though this confession brought down on him the fierce anger of his father Saul.

So it was with Jonathan in the house of Saul. He too was sadly hindered in his service to God and to Israel. He should have stood out in more complete separation from the evil in which his father lived and moved. His place at Saul's table should have been vacant as well as David's.

Human expediency would no doubt have advised Jonathan to stay in Saul's house as the place where Providence had put him. But expediency is not faith, and it will not help a man in his path of service, whatever that may be.

Jonathan's love (ch. 20) was an oasis to David in the desert of persecution which he now feels in its sharpest form. Driven from home, a wanderer, a fugitive, he had nowhere to lay his head. The power of Israel wielded by Saul is against him. So it was with the Lord Jesus. Foxes had holes and birds had nests; the cunning and the unclean had a place in this world. He, the Lord, had none.

David is now driven away from the presence of Saul, and becomes a wanderer in the earth… Saul had again dared to seek his life, even when he was with Samuel. Saul has completely thrown off the last restraint.

Jonathan expected that David would be missed even on the first day of the new moon. But he thought Saul would make no issue of it until later. So he arranges with David that he should be hidden at the stone Ezel on the third day. On that day Jonathan would come to that area with bow and arrows, and a young boy with him. Practising archery like this would be quite normal and would raise no suspicions among the people.

It would not do for him to return openly to the area. Many there would no doubt have been willing to sacrifice his life to gain favour with king Saul. For Jonathan too, being away for any length of time would have aroused suspicion, since his father was so jealous. It was a time when both Jonathan and David needed much care.

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed but little faith. We cannot boast against him. Since that day many a believer, with more light and less cause for fear, has done worse. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom… If God passed over (I do not say approved) their deception, it is not an example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden motives behind our actions.

Now, for a little while, David is, as it were, to be hidden till Saul is removed, and God's purpose is ripe for fulfilment. So the LORD says to the Messiah, who is now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool."… Through all David's sorrow God was preparing his way to the throne. Even at this moment He is preparing the way for the coming of the King of Israel.

The love was indeed wonderful, but the weak point was serious beyond words. Jonathan would strip himself for David; he would speak up for him; he would kiss him; but he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other returned to the comforts of the city.

Jonathan expected David's absence to show on the first day of the new moon. Even so, Saul would make no issue of it until later. So he arranges with David that he should be present at the stone Ezel, hidden, on the third day. On that day Jonathan would come to that area with bow and arrows, and a young boy with him. Practising archery like this was quite normal. It would raise no suspicion among the people.

In sending a boy to find three arrows, Jonathan would shoot them either short of where the boy was or beyond him. If short, he would call out to the boy that the arrows were on this side of him. This would show that Saul's plans against David stopped short of wanting to kill him. But if he called out that the arrows were beyond the boy, the message was different. Saul would not stop short of killing David, given the chance. In that case the only wise course would be for David to leave.

On John 15:15 — compare Luke 12:4, where the Lord had already called the disciples His "friends." Jonathan and his attendant (1 Sam. 20) show the striking difference between a "friend" and a "servant." The difference lies in what each one is told.

So the plan is arranged — another trick. Jonathan is to pretend that he is practising his marksmanship.

There seems a certain lack of dignity about it all, which may not fully agree with a strong faith; and yet we must be slow to condemn. It shows, however, how dangerous David's position was, and how few his helpers were.

But God graciously uses this to discipline David's heart. In time faith leads him out beyond the region of fears and alarms. It leads him to walk with God in the calm security of His presence, wherever God may lead. If He is for us, who can be against us? The bow, the arrows, the field and the boy all mean what the arranged signals say they mean — signals that flesh and blood can understand.

Jonathan has to see Saul's hatred of David for himself. This is not a passing fit of madness. It is a malignant spirit, ready to sacrifice Jonathan himself once more for standing in the way of its stubborn pride. He has to accept David's departure, for the arrow does not fall within the limit of safety for him. So they part. Jonathan goes to position and honour, and then to the fatal battle at Gilboa. David goes through present suffering and rejection to a throne. We find our own appointed path here too: "if we endure, we will also reign with Him."

Jonathan would strip himself for David; he would speak up for him; he would kiss him; but he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other returned to the comforts of the city.

David could not openly return to that area, where many would gladly have taken his life to gain favour with king Saul. And if Jonathan stayed away for long, with his father in such a jealous state, it would have raised suspicion. So a further trick is arranged. Jonathan will pretend to practise his archery. Where the arrows land, close by or far beyond the target, will show whether David can return safely or must flee far away.

There seems to be a certain lack of dignity in all this. It may not fully fit with strong faith, and yet we must be slow to condemn. It shows, however, how dangerous David's position was, and how few his helpers were.

Jonathan would send a boy to find three arrows, and would shoot them either short of where the boy stood or beyond him. If short, he would call out to the boy that the arrows were on this side of him. That would show that Saul's plans against David fell short of really wanting to kill him. But if he called to the boy that the arrows were beyond him, that would tell David that Saul would not stop short of killing him if he got the chance. Then the only wise course would be for David to leave.

"Now therefore send and bring him to me, for he shall surely die. And Jonathan answered Saul his father, and said to him, Why shall he be killed? What has he done? And Saul threw a javelin at him to strike him" — and from this Jonathan knew that his father had decided to kill David. So Jonathan got up from the table in fierce anger. It was not for himself, but for David.

On John 15:15 — compare Luke 12:4, an earlier occasion when the Lord called the disciples His "friends." A striking example of the difference between "friend" and "servant," in terms of what each is told, appears in the account of Jonathan compared with his servant (1 Samuel 20).

And Jonathan's love was now aroused. He would even risk his life for David, and a new covenant comes in here, not only between them personally, as it was at first, but on behalf of their two houses.

The love was indeed wonderful, but the weak point was serious beyond words. Jonathan would strip himself for David; he would speak up for him; he would kiss him; but he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other returned to the comforts of the city.

For a little while David must stay hidden, until Saul is taken away and God's purpose is ripe to be fulfilled. In the same way the Lord says to the Messiah, now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool." … Through all David's sorrow, God was preparing his way to the throne.

If short, he would call out to the boy that the arrows were on this side of him. This would show that Saul's intentions against David stopped short of actually wanting to kill him. But if he called out that the arrows were beyond the boy, this would tell David something else. Saul would not stop short of killing him if he had the chance. In this case the only wise course would be for David to leave.

So the plan is arranged — a further trick, where Jonathan pretends to practise his marksmanship. Where the arrows land, either close at hand or far beyond the mark, will show whether David can return in safety or must flee far away.

But God graciously uses this as discipline for the heart. Faith leads David out at last, beyond the region of fears and alarms, to walk with God in the calm security of His presence, wherever He may lead. If He is for us, who can be against us? The two friends read the bow and the arrows, the field and the boy by the agreed symbols that flesh and blood can understand.

He has to accept David's departure, for the arrow does not fall within the limit of safety for him. So they part. Jonathan goes to position and honour, and then to the fatal battle at Gilboa. David goes through present suffering and rejection to a throne. The appointed path for us also is found here: "if we endure, we will also reign with Him."

The love was indeed wonderful, but the weak point was serious beyond measure. Jonathan would strip himself for David. He would speak up for him. He would kiss him. But he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other returned to the comforts of the city. But Jonathan finished on the wall of Beth-shan, while David went up to the throne!

Now, for a little while, David is, in a sense, hidden until Saul is gone and God's purpose is ripe for fulfilment. So the LORD says to Messiah, who is now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool."

There seems a certain lack of dignity about it all. It may not fully agree with a strong faith, and yet we must be slow to condemn. It does show, however, how dangerous David's position was, and how few his helpers were.

If God passed over their deception — I do not say He approved it — that is still no example for us to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of our actions, and to make sure everything agrees with truth in the inward parts.

There he calls on the LORD God of Israel as witness. Whether Saul showed a friendly attitude or a hostile one, Jonathan would be sure to let David know. If Saul was hostile, Jonathan would send David away in peace, wanting the blessing of the Lord to go with him. He also asks David to remember Jonathan's own family, and to show them kindness once God had cut off David's enemies and made him king over Israel. This takes the form of a covenant, with David giving his oath to Jonathan. Jonathan wanted it because he loved David as his own soul.

And Jonathan's love was now roused. He would even risk his life for David. A new covenant comes in here — not only between the two of them, as at first, but on behalf of their two families. This held good with David after Jonathan's death. It stayed written in his book of remembrance, and in due time he said, "Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?"

Jonathan, too, though he expected to see David begin his reign, did not expect to outlive him. David would remain when Jonathan was here no more. The covenant then made, David kept. At the height of his glory and greatness he remembered it, and his kindness to Mephibosheth was the proof of it. And later, near the close of his reign, he acted on it again: he saved Jonathan's son when the Gibeonites would have hanged him for Saul's slaughter of the Hivites.

In the incidents we have read, we find David and Jonathan alone. Only they knew what passed between them. Only the Lord knows what passes between Him and us when we too commit ourselves to Him in the secret of His presence.

I am sure Jonathan could not have loved David more. His love was as strong here as when he first made that covenant with him. But the outward circumstances had changed, and they put Jonathan to the test… David was hiding in the field, but the city was still in Jonathan's heart. He was not ready to follow David into the field and into the cave of Adullam. Only as we accept the rejection of Christ will we be ready to suffer with Him.

Thank God, love remains… This love has lived through the ages. It has given a model of human friendship: a love tenderer than that of lovers, sweeter than that of women, the love of two strong hearts, made holy by a divine love. And think of it — all true Christian friendship, even though for a time it must weep, has in it a permanence that can never be lost.

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table, at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked where he was, Jonathan was to use the trick described above. If Saul accepted it, all was well. But if it enraged him, that would be a clear sign that his reason for wanting David present was evil.

David is now driven away from the presence of Saul, and becomes a wanderer in the earth. It is no longer complete submission to Saul while David himself is the vessel of God's energy. Driven away by Saul, David had gone back to Samuel, the source of God's testimony. Even there, Saul dared once again to seek his life. Saul has completely thrown off the last restraint... He could not now return to Saul. That would have meant joining in the contempt shown to God's testimony.

When Saul saw David's place empty he missed him, but said nothing. He thought David must have picked up some ceremonial defilement, so he could not come until he was clean again. It seems strange that another thought never occurred to him: David might feel unsafe near Saul. After all, Saul had threatened his life more than once.

During Saul's life, David's sufferings prefigure the sufferings of Christ. In the same way, Saul pictures the relentless hate of the leaders of the nation that rejected and persecuted Him. There was no open idolatry while he was king. He kept up, more or less, the outward order of the appointed worship. The priests, if not the prophet, were with Saul. But in his heart was hatred of God's anointed.

The need for truth in the inward parts seemed unknown to David and Jonathan. There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed very little faith. We cannot boast over him. Since that day many a believer has done worse, with more light and less cause for fear... If God passed over their double-dealing — I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden motives behind what we do.

Scripture does not comment on these accounts, which often mix much that was not true with what was true. I grant you that unbelief can use this against the word of God. But unbelief is always shallow, and its spiteful rush to condemn is short-sighted... the calmness of truth can tell things exactly as they are without the slightest apology for anything.

Now, for a little while, David must stay hidden until Saul is gone and God's purpose is ripe for fulfilment. So the LORD says to Messiah, who is now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool." True, Christ is hidden now in the glory... but those who represent Him here both suffer and are hidden, as David was. God, through all David's sorrow, was preparing his way to the throne.

The feast of the new moon celebrated the start of a new period of time. It was marked not by the yearly circuit of the sun, but by the moon reappearing each month. It stands as a picture of the new stages of blessing for Israel. May we not see in it a hint that a new era for Israel had come in David himself? He was anointed as king and openly separated from poor Saul, whose light had indeed been eclipsed.

Court custom gave David his place at the king's table at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked after him, Jonathan was to use the excuse described above. If Saul accepted it, all was well. But if it made him angry, that would be clear proof that his reason for wanting David there was evil.

On the day of the new moon Saul's court gathers to eat together, with the chief men present. When Saul saw David's place empty he missed him, but said nothing. He thought David must have picked up some ceremonial defilement, so he could not come until he had been cleansed from it (v.26). It seems strange that it never occurred to him that David might feel unsafe near Saul, especially since Saul had threatened his life more than once.

The new moon arrives and David's seat is empty at the feast. Saul is exact about outward form, as a Pharisee is, and explains the absence by thinking that David may not be ceremonially clean. But when David is missing the next night, he asks Jonathan the reason... Saul's jealousy and hatred flash out at once in their full spite, blazing even against Jonathan, his heir.

So it was with Jonathan in the house of Saul. He too was badly hindered in his service to God and to Israel. He should have stood apart far more completely from the evil his father lived and moved in. His place at Saul's table should have been empty as well as David's. The cave of Adullam would have been his proper place. There, in holy company with the rejected David and his despised band of followers, he would have found a wider and fitter field to show his loving devotion to God and to God's anointed.

At times Jonathan felt he had to leave Saul's table so that he could embrace David. But he should have left that table for good. He should have thrown in his lot completely with David... He did not, and so he fell on Mount Gilboa at the hands of the uncircumcised.

Jonathan's love was an oasis to David in the desert of persecution, which he now feels at its sharpest. Driven from home, a wanderer, a man on the run, he had nowhere to lay his head. Saul held the power of Israel, and he used it against David. So it was with the Lord Jesus. Foxes had holes, birds of the air had nests, the cunning and the unclean had a place in this world. He, the Lord, had none. Yet He had a house at Bethany, a little green spot where He could meet with hearts that answered His own.

David's place, according to court etiquette, would be at the king's table, at the feast of the new moon. If Saul missed him and asked after him, Jonathan was to use the trick they had agreed on. If Saul accepted it, all was well; but if it enraged him, that would be a clear sign that his motive for wanting David present was evil.

When Saul saw David's place empty he missed him, but said nothing. He thought David must have picked up some ceremonial defilement, and so could not come until he was cleansed from it (v.26). It seems strange that one thought did not occur to him. David might well feel unsafe near Saul, who had threatened his life more than once.

The new moon arrives and David's seat is vacant at the feast. Missing him again the next night, Saul asks Jonathan the reason for his absence, and Jonathan gives the explanation they had agreed on. Saul's jealousy and hatred at once flash out in their full spite. In the heat of anger he reveals the whole situation. As long as David lives, his throne is unsafe. Only by killing the son of Jesse could he keep it from being overthrown.

The second day, however, Saul questions Jonathan as to why "the son of Jesse" was not present either the first or second day. Jonathan answers that David had begged leave to go to Bethlehem, since his family was holding a sacrifice at the time. That infuriated Saul. A matter like this ought to have caused no objection at all. But Saul's outburst showed that he only wanted David there so that he could kill him.

During Saul's lifetime the sufferings of David point forward to those of Christ. Saul pictures the relentless hatred of the leaders of the nation that rejected and persecuted Him. There was no open idolatry during the king's life. He kept up more or less the external order of the appointed worship. The priests, if not the prophet, were with Saul. But in his heart was hatred of God's anointed. When our Lord lived here on earth, idolatry was absent too. Among the Pharisees, the leading religious party, there was a hypocritical zeal for the law in outward duties and ceremonies — and with it a fiercer hatred of Him who is greater than David.

So it was with Jonathan in the house of Saul. He, too, was sadly hindered in his service to God and to Israel. He should have separated himself far more completely from the evil his father lived in. His place at Saul's table should have been empty as well as David's. The cave of Adullam would have been his proper place. There, alongside the rejected David and his despised band of followers, he would have had a wider and more suitable place to show his loving devotion to God and His anointed.

The next day was the new moon. David normally had to eat with the king, and it seems this lasted three days. David proposes to be absent, and would hide in the countryside. He asks Jonathan to excuse him to Saul. Jonathan is to say that David asked permission to go to Bethlehem, to attend a yearly sacrifice for his family. Of course this was deception, and we must not think of defending it. But if Saul was content with David's absence, this would give confidence that he no longer held the hatred that had surfaced more than once. If Saul became angry, this would show that he meant to kill David.

Jonathan answers that David had earnestly asked leave to go to Bethlehem, since his family was holding a sacrifice at the time. Saul was furious. A matter like this should have caused no objection at all. Saul's outburst showed that he wanted David there only so that he could kill him.

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed but little faith. We cannot boast against him, for since that day many a saint has, with more light and less cause for fear, done worse. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though He uses them in His wisdom. His brother had given David no command to attend a sacrifice in Bethlehem. It was a story invented by David and repeated by Jonathan. "Therefore he does not come to the feast." No — he feared Saul, therefore he does not come to the feast. There was untruthfulness, and neither man seemed to have any conscience about it. Those were times of ignorance. Now the full truth is revealed, and holiness is required to match the light we have. Even if God passed over their double-dealing — and I do not say He approved it — it is not an example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of what we do, and to see that all of it agrees with truth deep inside.

We see the wonderful dignity of Scripture, and the wisdom of it too. Scripture does not comment on these stories, which often mix much that was untrue with what was true. I grant you unbelief can use this against the word of God. But unbelief is ever superficial, and its malicious haste to condemn is short-sighted. The people to fear most are not open enemies. They are professed friends who apologise for the Scriptures.

Is flesh anything better in the saint than in the sinner? Can any number of years of communion with God improve it, or make the saint less liable to temptation from it? You might as well expect the Ethiopian to change his skin, or the leopard his spots!

Saul's hatred increases, and David becomes an outcast and a fugitive. And here is just where Jonathan, with all his love and delight in David, fails. He does not follow David. He stays in the house of Saul, where "David's place was empty." David becomes a wanderer among the mountains of Israel. Jonathan stays in Jerusalem to enjoy his own position and his father's palace. He went right back among the enemies of the one he loved so well. Jonathan lost his life on the mountains of Gilboa. He was killed among the enemies of David. He refused to share the rejection of David, and suffered loss as a result.

The following day was the new moon, when David was normally required to eat with the king, evidently over a period of three days. David proposes to be absent, and would hide in the countryside. He asks Jonathan to excuse him to Saul, by saying that David asked permission to go to Bethlehem for a yearly sacrifice for his family. Of course this was deception, which we must not think of defending. But if Saul was content with David's absence, this would give confidence that he was no longer holding the hatred that had surfaced more than once. If Saul became angry, this would show that he meant to kill David.

His brother had never commanded David to be at a sacrifice in Bethlehem. It was a story invented by David and repeated by Jonathan. "For this reason he has not come to the king's table." No — he feared Saul; that is why he has not come. There was untruthfulness, and neither of them seemed to have any conscience about it. If God passed over their double-dealing — I do not say He approved it — it is not an example to follow. It is a warning to judge the hidden springs of what we do, and to see that everything in us is in keeping with truth.

David had the right, and would naturally go home at the time of the feast of the new moon. Remembering that David is only a man, we need not try to justify every detail here. We must also be slow to condemn him for what was clearly within his rights. As a matter of fact, he does not seem to have gone to his father's house at all. So we leave it there. We only point to the possible weakness of the faith that would take this course. We hardly think anyone would feel that our Lord would have done exactly the same.

We see the wonderful dignity of Scripture, and its wisdom too. Scripture does not comment on these stories, which often mix much that was not true with what was true. I grant you that unbelief can use this against the word of God. But unbelief is always superficial, and its spiteful hurry to condemn is short-sighted. It is not open enemies who are most to be feared, but professed friends who apologise for the Scriptures. But the calmness of truth can tell things exactly as they are, without the smallest apology for anything.

Their sorrowful misdeeds usually stand in the record without comment. This is so that we may exercise our minds and hearts as we read, and so form a judgement, from what we know of Scripture as a whole, about what pleases God and what does not.

Until the great change takes place at the coming of the Lord Jesus, every conceivable evil is possible, even for the most devout. But our shortcomings are far more serious than those of Rahab, David and Jonathan. The reason is that we have seen God's judgement of flesh in the death of His Son (Rom. 8:3), and have ourselves professed to accept His judgement.

Driven from home, a wanderer, a fugitive, he had nowhere to lay his head. The power of Israel, wielded by Saul, is against him. So it was with the Lord Jesus. Foxes had holes, birds of the air had nests, the cunning and the unclean had a place in this world; He, the Lord, had none.

Why was Saul so concerned that Jonathan would not be established as king so long as David was alive? Was it because Saul loved Jonathan? No, it was because he loved himself, for his own pride involved pride of his family name. Jonathan had shown that he was perfectly willing that David should be king, as God had decreed (ch. 18:1-4). But Saul was so enraged that he demanded that Jonathan should send and bring David to Saul to be killed. It is the sad mark of this world's rulers: they would rather see Christ dead than see Him rule.

So "Saul's anger was kindled against Jonathan." The evil heart of unbelief was departing fast from the living God. Now it burst out in rage against his own son, and against him because of his love for David. So Jonathan shares the vengeance Saul felt towards the man who had taken his place in the kingdom. God in His sovereign will had put him there. It was a fine fruit of faith in the son, just where the father's lack of faith was growing plainer and plainer. And he said to him, "You son of a perverse, rebellious woman." Ah, it would have been a good thing if he had only felt that he was the son of a perverse, rebellious man! But this was the last thing that could now enter his heart.

To Saul, his son's being established was worth more than all of David's glories. Such words wound Jonathan's heart deeply. He leaps up at the insult. But his grief is not for the insult to himself and his mother. He is grieved "for David, because his father had disgraced him" (v. 34). Saul has dishonoured and cursed David. Jonathan loves him with the same warmth he had once felt for him in the splendour of his youth and victory.

So there was the instinct that dreaded what was coming. Unbelief has its instincts just as truly as faith. Faith knows the good that is coming before it comes. In the same way, unbelief senses that these good things are slipping out of its grasp for ever. Now the unseen comes into view, the future seen as the present. "You in your lifetime received your good things." How wretched the prospect that was before Saul in his miserable contest with God.

But David was the anointed of the Lord. As such he was the hope of Israel. The nation and its destinies were bound up in him; the name of the God of Israel was upon him. In fighting against him Saul was contending with God. Saul's plan was to put out the light of Israel. He would turn the hearts of the people away from the true champion of the Lord's deliverance, so that his own name might win honour and his own house stand. Here was unsanctified nature trying to block the purposes of the Lord. Here was self-will holding on to a title that had come to him on conditions only, by the grace of God.

Jonathan was not a mere "yes-man", however: he protested with the question, "Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" Saul had no answer for this. He simply let his bad temper rise until he threw a javelin at his own son (v. 33). If he had killed Jonathan, he would have fulfilled his own words: Jonathan would never be established as king.

Jonathan was not a mere "yes-man", however: he protested with the question, "Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" Saul had no answer for this except to allow his bad temper to rise to such a height as to throw a javelin at his own son. If he had killed Jonathan, he would have fulfilled his own words that Jonathan would not be established as king.

"But Saul hurled his spear at him to strike him. So Jonathan knew that his father was determined to put David to death. And Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger." It was not for himself, but for David. He saw clearly the murderous hatred of his father that nothing could turn aside... How unselfish faith is! Jonathan knew well that David's rise meant the end of Saul's house. But he knew that this was from God, and that it is useless to fight against Him, even if it were not wicked.

Jonathan stands firm and asks why he should be put to death, and gets, as his reply, the javelin which had been aimed again and again at David. Therefore there can be no question that evil is fully determined.

Why was Saul so concerned that Jonathan would not be established as king so long as David was alive? Was it because Saul loved Jonathan? No, it was because he loved himself, for his own pride involved pride of his family name... It is the sad characteristic of this world's rulers that they would rather see Christ dead than in power.

David, who is such a precious picture of Christ, also receives this public testimony before Saul through Jonathan's mouth: "Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" What a privilege it is for the believer to be able, through the Holy Spirit, to copy the Lord in this, as in everything else. Only, unlike David and unlike us, the Lord never needed discipline to produce this fruit of righteousness.

Judging by outward appearance, David was the rejected outcast. Yet how beautifully faith knew him as the LORD's chosen one... When the new moon came and the king took his seat, David's place was empty. Yet how fully Jonathan stood up for David, even though this brought his father Saul's severe anger down on him.

It was not easy, but faith working by love finds how to reconcile what one owes a guilty father, or anyone else, with what is due to God's witness in any crisis. And this Jonathan shows here.

We can only approve Jonathan's fierce anger against his father, for his motives were not selfish. He was grieved for David, because Saul's attitude toward him was so shameful. Yet he did not retaliate or speak insulting words to Saul as Saul had to him... This shows that one may have fierce anger without losing control of his temper. Today many have the same undeserved hatred toward the Lord Jesus that Saul had toward David. We should feel it, but we should still keep control of our own temper about it.

Jonathan was not a mere "yes-man", however. He protested with the question, "Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" Saul had no answer for this. He only let his bad temper rise so high that he threw a spear at his own son (v.33). If he had killed Jonathan, he would have made his own words come true: Jonathan would not be established as king.

Jonathan stands firm and asks why David should be put to death. His reply is the spear that Saul had aimed again and again at David. So there can be no question: the evil is fully settled.

"But Saul hurled his spear at him to strike him. So Jonathan knew that his father was determined to put David to death. And Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger." It was not for himself, but for David. He saw clearly his father's murderous hatred, which nothing could turn aside. And he "ate no food the second day of the month, for he was grieved for David." How admirable! "He was grieved for David, because his father had disgraced him."

We can only approve Jonathan's fierce anger against his father, for his motives were not selfish. He was grieved for David, that Saul should take such a shameful attitude toward him. Yet he did not retaliate or speak insulting words to Saul as Saul had to him. He did show his displeasure by leaving the table and not eating that day. This shows that one may have fierce anger without losing control of his temper.

The result is that Saul flings a spear at Jonathan (1 Sam. 20:33). Three times he had tried to kill David. Now David is out of sight, so Saul tries to kill Jonathan, who stood up for him. That is just like the Christian. When Christ is out of sight, the Christian has to stand up for his Lord, and people persecute him. I expect nothing but persecution. The Lord Jesus said: "A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours" (John 15:20).

He risked his life by repeating David's story to the king, for Saul hurled the spear at him, just as he had hurled it at David twice before… The love was truly wonderful, but the weak point was very serious. Jonathan would strip himself for David. He would speak up for him. He would kiss him. But he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other went back to the comforts of the city.

"Why should he be put to death? What has he done?" But Saul hurled his spear at him to strike him. So Jonathan knew that his father was determined to put David to death. So Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger. It was not for himself, but for David. He saw clearly the murderous hatred of his father that nothing could turn aside.

Such words deeply wound Jonathan's heart. He leaps up at this insult. But he is grieved, not because of the insult to himself and his mother, but "for David, because his father had disgraced him." He loves David, dishonoured and cursed by Saul, with the same warmth he once had for him in the splendour of his youth and victory.

It was not easy, but faith working by love finds how to reconcile what one owes a guilty father, or anyone else, with what is due to God's witness in a crisis. Jonathan shows this here. How unselfish faith is! Jonathan knew well that David's rise was fatal to the house of Saul. But he knew that this was of God, and that fighting against Him is pointless, if not wicked.

We can only approve Jonathan's fierce anger against his father. His motives were not selfish. He grieved for David, because Saul took such a shameful attitude toward him. Yet he did not retaliate or speak insulting words to Saul as Saul had to him. He did show his displeasure by leaving the table and not eating that day. This shows that one may have fierce anger without losing control of his temper.

Jonathan himself did not escape the effects of his father's anger. Saul wronged him cruelly and outrageously in front of the whole court. To his credit, though, the record shows no complaint from him about the wrong done to himself. Instead he "was grieved for David, because his father had disgraced him." This is a family feature. The most worldly child of God at the bottom of his heart loves Christ better than himself; and if it comes to persecution, Satan will find that out.

How Jonathan's lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us! Yet he still lacked one thing, and one thing only. He did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very hard. But for faith, difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David's afflictions with more than his heart. Because he did not, he later had to share his father's defeat and ruin.

Still Jonathan was a great loser by the course he took. He gave up much fellowship with David and many opportunities of effective service... Standing with Christ in His rejection must be hard on the flesh. What ties must be broken! What friendships given up! What hostility stirred up! What scorn brought on!

"Why should he be killed? What has he done?" And Saul threw a javelin at him to strike him, so Jonathan knew that his father had determined to kill David. So Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger. It was not for himself, but for David. He saw clearly that nothing could turn aside his father's murderous hatred. And he "ate no food the second day of the month, for he was grieved for David." How admirable!

It would not do for him to return openly to the area. Many there would no doubt have been willing to sacrifice his life to gain favour with King Saul. For Jonathan too, given his father's jealous state, to be absent for any great length of time would have aroused suspicion. It was a time when both Jonathan and David needed much care. So they arrange a further ruse: Jonathan is to pretend to practise his marksmanship. The position of the arrows, either close at hand or far beyond the mark, will show whether David can return in safety or must flee to a distance.

If short, he would call out to the boy that the arrows were on this side of him. This would show that Saul's intentions fell short of really wanting to kill David. But if he called out that the arrows were beyond the boy, David would know that Saul would kill him if he got the chance. In that case the only wise course would be for David to leave.

Jonathan shoots the arrows and urges the boy who gathers them to hurry, as though to remind David how close the danger was. Then he sends the boy and his weapons back to the city. His affection for David will not let him leave without one more expression of it. It is most touching. It is a time of sorrow, and only those who love as David and Jonathan did can know the bitterness of such a parting.

Even when David is driven away, Jonathan's faith is not shaken. His heart is not separated from the one his soul loved — the young David, radiant with the glory of his victory over Goliath, who answered Saul with a modesty that made it shine all the more. He loves him when he is dishonoured and a fugitive. He acknowledges him as God's chosen one, and ties the hopes of his house to the glory of the one he loves.

It was not easy, but faith working by love finds how to balance what one owes a guilty father, or anyone else, with what is due to God's witness in a crisis. And this Jonathan shows here. How unselfish faith is! Jonathan knew well that David's rise meant the ruin of Saul's house. But he knew this was of God, and that fighting against Him is useless, if not wicked.

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him, for since that day many a believer has, with more light and less cause for fear, done worse. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though in His wisdom He still uses them... If God passed over their double-dealing (I do not say He approved it), it is not an example to follow, but rather a warning to judge the hidden springs of what we do.

He has to accept David's departure, for the arrow does not fall within the limit of safety for him. So they part: Jonathan to position and honour, and then the fatal battle at Gilboa; David, through present suffering and rejection, to a throne. The appointed path for us is found here too: "if we endure, we will also reign with him."

In sending a boy to find three arrows, Jonathan would shoot them either short of where the boy was or beyond him. If short, he would call out that the arrows were on this side of the boy. That would show that Saul's intentions against David stopped short of really wanting to kill him. But if he called out that the arrows were beyond the boy, this would tell David the opposite. Saul would not stop short of killing him if he had the opportunity. In that case the only wise course would be for David to leave.

David could not openly return to the area. Many there would no doubt have been willing to take his life to gain favour with king Saul. For Jonathan, a long absence would have aroused suspicion in his jealous father. It was a time when both men needed much care. So the plan is arranged — a further trick. Jonathan is to pretend to practise marksmanship. The position of the arrows, either close at hand or far beyond the mark, will show whether David can return in safety or must flee far away.

And Saul cast a javelin at him to strike him, so Jonathan knew that his father had determined to kill David. So Jonathan rose from the table in fierce anger. It was not for himself, but for David. He saw clearly the murderous hatred of his father that nothing could turn aside. And he "ate no food the second day of the month, for he was grieved for David."

Faith working by love finds how to reconcile what one owes a guilty father with what is due to God's witness in a crisis. Jonathan shows this here. How unselfish faith is! Jonathan well knew that David's rise meant the end of Saul's house. But he knew this was of God, and that it is useless — not to say wicked — to fight against Him.

But God graciously uses this as discipline for the heart. In time faith leads David out, beyond the region of fears and alarms, to walk with God in the calm security of His presence, wherever He may lead. If He is for us, who can be against us? The bow and the arrows, the field and the boy carry the arranged symbols that flesh and blood understand.

Jonathan has to accept David's departure, for the arrow does not fall within the limit of safety for him. So they part. Jonathan goes to position and honour, and then the fatal battle at Gilboa. David goes through present suffering and rejection to a throne. Here we find the appointed path for us too: "if we suffer we shall also reign with Him."

There seems a certain lack of dignity about it all, which may not fully agree with a strong faith. Yet we must be slow to condemn. It shows how dangerous David's position was, and how few his helpers were.

There was untruthfulness, and neither seemed to have had any conscience about it. These were times of ignorance. Now the full truth shines, and God requires holiness in keeping with the measure of light. If God passed over their deception (I do not say He approved it), it is not an example for us to follow. It is a warning to judge the secret springs of action.

Jonathan would send a boy to find three arrows, and would shoot them either short of where the boy stood or beyond him. If they fell short, he would call out that the arrows were on this side of the boy. That would show that Saul's plans against David stopped short of wanting him dead. But if he called out that the arrows lay beyond the boy, David would know that Saul would not stop short of killing him if he got the chance. Then the only wise course was for David to leave.

How was David to learn the result of their plan to discover Saul's mind? He could not openly return to a place where many would gladly have taken his life to win favour with King Saul. And with his father so jealous, Jonathan could not stay away for long without arousing suspicion. It was a time when both men needed much care. So the plan is arranged — another trick. Jonathan pretends to practise his archery. The position of the arrows, close at hand or far beyond the mark, will show whether David can return in safety or must flee far away.

As agreed, Jonathan now goes out into the field. By the sign they had settled on, he makes known that David must flee. He shoots the arrows. He urges the boy who gathers them to hurry, as though he would remind David how near his danger was. Then he sends the boy and his weapons back to the city.

There was a little plot between them to deceive Saul. No doubt David was in great fear and showed little faith. We cannot boast against him. Since that day many a believer has done worse, with more light and less cause for fear. The Holy Spirit does not hide their failure, though in His wisdom He still uses them... If God passed over their deception — I do not say He approved it — that is no example to follow. It is a warning instead: judge the hidden springs of what we do, and make sure everything agrees with truth in the inward parts.

Jonathan has to accept David's departure, for the arrow does not fall within the safe limit for him. So they part: Jonathan to position and honour, and then the fatal battle at Gilboa; David, through present suffering and rejection, to a throne. We find our own appointed path here too: "if we endure, we will also reign with Him."

Now, for a little while, David is, as it were, to be hidden until Saul is removed and God's purpose is ripe for fulfilment. So the LORD says to the Messiah, who is now hidden from Israel, "Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool." Christ is indeed hidden now in the glory He entered when He left the grave. But those who represent Him here both suffer and are hidden, as David was. Through all David's sorrow God was preparing his way to the throne. At this very moment He is preparing the way for the coming of the King of Israel, and for judgment on His enemies.

The bow and the arrows, the field and the boy are all read by the signs they had arranged, signs that ordinary human sense can understand. And David came out of his hiding place.

Jonathan then gave his bow and arrows to the boy and told him to return with them to the city. David had already received his message. But Jonathan clearly did not want him to leave before the two of them had spoken together.

Jonathan shot the arrows and urged the boy who gathered them to hurry, as though he wanted to remind David how close the danger was. Then he sends the boy and his weapons back to the city. His affection for David will not let him leave without one more expression of it.

In Jonathan we see the godly in Israel owning their king. They confess Him before they see His glory, and they are themselves weak and afraid. Nicodemus is most like Jonathan. He too came secretly to the Lord Jesus, for fear of the Jews. Jonathan came to David in the same way, in fear of his father, and unknown to his father and to the nation at large. He acknowledges David as the king of Israel. He had already stripped himself of the marks of royalty and given them to David. Now he acknowledges that his life is in David's hand. It is complete and perfect submission.

He still loved him as his own soul, but he could not go beyond that. He gave him the first place. "You shall be king," he said. He owned that only one head in the land was fit and worthy to wear the crown, and that head was David's. He was right and true in that, but he added: "I shall be next to you." He lifted David up, but he did not humble himself, and that was the heart of the matter: he had not lost sight of himself in his love for David.

The love was indeed wonderful, but the weak point was serious beyond words. Jonathan would strip himself for David; he would speak up for him; he would kiss him; but he was not willing to share his rejection. So the one went where he could, to the hillside and the cave, and the other returned to the comforts of the city. But Jonathan ended on the wall of Bethshan, while David came to the throne!

This is a time of sorrow. Only those who love as David and Jonathan did can know the bitterness of such a parting. Yet even here David weeps the most, as though to remind us that He of whom David was only a picture goes infinitely beyond the love of His most devoted people.

When the boy who gathered up the arrows had gone, David came from his hiding place, fell on his face before Jonathan and bowed himself three times. Clearly David meant to show all proper respect to King Saul through the person of his son Jonathan. He would not be angry or resentful. He would accept the ordeal of being rejected and living as a fugitive. The Lord Jesus showed this spirit of true subjection to government perfectly. He did not resist, even though the government treated Him very unfairly.

Then comes the parting. They kissed one another, and wept one with another till David's weeping exceeded (literally, "till David wept loudly"). Jonathan went into the city and David into the suffering of the exile. They met only once more (1 Samuel 23:16-18).

In holy Scripture a kiss is the token of reconciliation, the pledge of peace, and the expression of affection. David and Jonathan's parting is a sweet picture of the true David, who always exceeds all our love.

Still calm and courteous as he came to Jonathan, David bowed to the ground three times, and the two men kissed and wept together, David weeping the most. What a scene this was! What a wrench! The last link that bound David to his useful and once glorious life is broken. In one moment he loses all he valued and loved: honour, position, service, and even the company of the one heart still faithful to him. And what caused this? Nothing but the unjust and deadly hatred of Israel's ruler. Yet there was another cause. God Himself was setting things in motion to train David and fit him for future greatness. If David had not seen that, this hour must have overwhelmed him.

How Jonathan's lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us; yet he lacked one thing, one thing only. He did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David's afflictions with more than his heart alone. Because he did not, he was later forced to share his father's defeat and ruin.

David was hiding in the field, but the city was still in the heart of Jonathan, and he was not prepared to follow David into the field and into the cave of Adullam. It is only as we accept the rejection of Christ that we shall be prepared to suffer with Him.

David and Jonathan weep with one another and kiss one another, until "David exceeded." Jonathan's love "was wonderful," but in affection, as in everything else, "David exceeded." It is written of Christ that in everything He must be first (Colossians 1:18). However great our love to Him, His love exceeds our own as an age exceeds an hour.

The sorrows of God's anointed David were only shadows of the deeper sorrows of God's only Son. That is true whether we look at the many sufferings that made Him perfect as the Captain of our salvation, or at the suffering of death, through which He is now glorified at God's right hand. No doubt God used the pressure on David's heart to give voice to the sorrows our Jesus would feel later.

The cruelty of Saul only strengthens Jonathan's affection toward David. They kissed one another and wept "until David exceeded." As well as feeling the sorrow of his exile, David felt the pain of being separated from Jonathan. They part reminding each other that they had sworn in the name of the Lord to remain faithful to one another and to each other's families, the Lord Himself being the Bond between them.

We are entitled to regard the Lord's words as of greater significance than the ordinary farewell greeting of the East, such as we find in Ex. 4:18; Judges 18:6; 1 Sam. 1:17; 1 Sam. 20:13, 42; 2 Kings 5:19; Acts 15:33. The Lord was infinitely above the conventional speech that James condemns (James 2:16). He had come to "ordain peace" for His people in the best and surest sense.

Jonathan and David are together in the field. Jonathan knows full well who is to be the future king. He makes David swear to show kindness, not only to him, but to his descendants after him. Jonathan sees nothing beyond the establishing of David's throne (ch. 20:14-15, 42). In this he was right. There will be nothing on this earth to replace it. David was now a fugitive. How unlikely it must have looked that he would sit on a throne, and that Saul's house would owe its survival to his mercy! Jonathan expected to see David begin his reign, but he did not expect to outlive him. David kept the covenant he made. At the height of his glory and greatness he remembered it, and his kindness to Mephibosheth proved it (2 Sam. 9).

David and Jonathan had made an agreement together about their descendants (1 Sam. 20:15, 42). David fully respected this and far exceeded it, for it was true grace in him to bring Mephibosheth to sit at his table.

In 1 Sam. 20:42 the scene has completely changed. In 1 Sam. 18, Jonathan first attached himself to David. David had just killed the giant, and the people honoured him and welcomed him. Now he is rejected, and Saul is trying to destroy him... I am sure Jonathan could not have loved David more. His love was as strong here as when he first made that covenant with him. But the outward circumstances had altered, and those circumstances test him... David was hiding in the field, but the city was still in Jonathan's heart, and he was not prepared to follow David into the field and into the cave of Adullam. Only as we accept the rejection of Christ will we be prepared to suffer with Him.

Here is exactly where Jonathan, with all his love and delight in David, fails. He does not follow David, but stays in Saul's house, where "David's place was empty." David becomes a wanderer among the mountains of Israel. Jonathan stays in Jerusalem to enjoy his own position and his father's palace. After the touching meeting recorded in chapter 20, David "arose and departed, and Jonathan went into the city" (v. 42). He went right back among the enemies of the one he loved so well. And what was the end? Jonathan lost his life on the mountains of Gilboa.

As Jonathan went to the city, David was more and more in the desert, in the place of the pilgrim and the stranger — yes, of the outcast — increasingly the object of King Saul's jealousy and hatred. This leads him into a path where his history becomes more definitely typical. Here above all the Spirit of Christ has the work of foreshadowing the life of our Lord Jesus as rejected by men.

This chapter begins the record of David's wanderings as an exile. He wrote many Psalms during this time of the rejection of the Lord's anointed... He reached Nob after he parted from Jonathan. At Nob stood the tabernacle of the Lord, and Ahimelech (my brother is King), son of Ahitub (22:9) and great-grandson of Eli, was serving as priest. Nob lay north of Jerusalem, not far from the city (Isaiah 10:32).

David is now an outcast and a fugitive, cut off from any hope from Saul's government. By instinct he flees first to the priest, who keeps the sanctuary of the Lord. From him David would seek food for himself and his few followers. The priest seems to know how disordered things are in king Saul's court, so he hesitates to help David. But David's lie puts him at ease.

David came down to Nob, and this alarmed Ahimelech the priest, who asks why he had no man with him. The account here makes it look as if no-one was with him. Yet others must have been nearby, because the Lord Jesus, commenting on this occasion, plainly speaks of "those who were with him (David)" (Mt. 12:3). As he told Ahimelech, he had apparently posted his servants somewhere in the area. Still, his words were not true that the king had sent him on a secret mission.

David, fleeing from Saul, comes to Ahimelech, who is afraid when he sees David alone. He had likely heard of Saul's hatred and of David's distress... Sadly, his untruthfulness now takes a clearer form... Having begun with deception, he sinks deeper into its trap. He invents details to prop up his first claim. Was he remembering this and other times like it when he later sang of the blessing of the Man in Whose spirit there was no deceit? Even this shows the perfection of the One of Whom it is said, in the fullest sense, "neither was deceit found in His mouth" (1 Peter 2:22).

There is no need to try to justify, and little reason to fully condemn, the course of a man who was only human, hunted by a powerful and relentless enemy... If we complain about the weakness of his faith, which led him to fall back on human tricks of deception, let us search and test our own hearts. We may find far more untruthfulness in them than in this beloved man after God's own heart.

The chosen king is now rejected. He goes to the priest, who gives him the holy bread. This is the sovereign grace of God, who rises above the ordinances tied to blessing when that blessing is refused — when He Himself is refused in His chosen one and in the power of His testimony. When that happens, His sovereign grace sets faith above ordinances.

Out of delicacy, Ahimelech does not mention the lie David used to get the bread and the sword... Yet it is this lie that finally ruins the priest and all his house. David knows this well when he tells Abiathar: "I am accountable for all the lives of your father's house" (v. 22). So he judges himself. Yet on God's side he is also a picture of the One who keeps the believer safe: "Stay with me; do not be afraid, for he who seeks my life seeks your life. With me you shall be in safekeeping."

David came weary and dispirited to the little village of Nob. The future just then looked very forbidding to him. He had forgotten the anointing oil which the prophet Samuel had poured on his head in his native town of Bethlehem not far away. This was a sure pledge that he would wear the crown of Israel, but that day fear filled his soul.

"Why are you alone, and no one with you?" Sadly, untruthfulness comes out in a more definite form... Having begun with deception he gets deeper into its coils. Circumstances are invented, so to speak, to prop up his first statement. The king had appointed servants to hurry along the business entrusted to David! Was he remembering this and cases like it when he later sang of the blessing on the man whose spirit has no deceit? Even this shows the perfection of Him of whom Scripture says above all others, "neither was deceit found in his mouth" (1 Peter 2:22).

Only a sacrifice of truth opened this place of refuge to the fugitive. David lied to Ahimelech, because he believed that the name of Saul carried more weight with him than the name of God. In going to Ahimelech, David acted in faith. The divine anointing gave him that freedom. It made God's ordinances and God's house the natural refuge of the man of His own choice in the hour of his deep distress. But in front of the Lord's priest, policy shaped his conduct — not faith at all. This is how the faith of God's saints has often failed. They judge rightly that no one can safely rely on man. So they have shaped their conduct to fit the circumstances of the time. But this is to forget God — to lose sight of Him as the shield and light of our present way.

It would seem from the history here that he had no one identified with him. Yet there must have been others in the area who were with him. The Lord Jesus, commenting on this occasion, clearly speaks of "those who were with him (David)" (Matt. 12:3). As he told Ahimelech, he evidently appointed his servants to a place in the area. Still, his words were not true that the king had sent him on some secret mission. He did not want Ahimelech to know that Saul was determined to kill him. That knowledge might make the priest afraid to show David any open kindness.

Perhaps, if David had told the whole truth, the priest might have joined him even then, as his son Abiathar did later... The effects of one man's sin are seldom confined to himself... Ahimelech was not defiled. In his simplicity he accepted David's statement. The effects touched him even to death, but he was without deceit. David was the indirect cause of his death, and he later admitted it. When he saw Doeg, he suspected what the deadly result would be.

It is this lie which finally leads to the ruin of the priest and all his house. David is well aware of this when he tells Abiathar: "I am accountable for all the lives of your father's house" (v. 22). So he judges himself. But at the same time, from God's side, he is a picture of the One who keeps the believer safe. He tells Abiathar: "Stay with me; do not be afraid, for he who seeks my life seeks your life. With me you shall be in safekeeping."

David's needs were now very pressing. Persecuted, defenceless, hungry, and weary, he turned to the minister of the sanctuary for supplies. Who was more suited to meet his need and to give him comfort in this moment of extreme difficulty and danger?

He arrived on the Sabbath day. That was the day the priests changed the twelve loaves of showbread ("the bread of the face," or "of the presence"). God had instructed that these loaves be set on the golden table in the holy place every Sabbath. So the ritual was still going on, even though there was no ark in the holy of holies. That showed how far the nation had drifted from the centre and core of its worship. David asked the priest for some of the old loaves for himself and his companions. This was a bold thing to ask. This holy bread was unleavened, with pure frankincense on it, and it was one of the most holy fire offerings to the LORD. Only the priests ate it, and only in the holy place.

Fresh bread had just been put in the vessels of the sanctuary to replace what had been there before, so David was not asking for the actual showbread, but for what had been removed from the table. Only the priests had a lawful right to this bread, but because of the circumstances Ahimelech rightly gave it to David. The Lord Jesus speaks approvingly of this in Matthew 12:3-4.

How could anything David needed still count as holy in God's eyes, when God's own people had rejected David, the LORD's anointed? The priests' bread became, for his needs, nothing more than common bread. Ceremonial restrictions of the law are all well enough where things run truly according to the law. But what about Him who is the central object of all its ordinances? What if He is cast out for God's sake, and He and His people are in want? Would God uphold those forms against the man of His own heart? Impossible!

First, the priesthood had failed badly in Israel. Second, the service of the tabernacle was in the wrong place, not the place God had chosen. Third, the ark was not there. And fourth, the true king was in exile and hungry because of persecution. This last point alone was reason for Ahimelech to give the bread to David. Genuine need takes priority over mere formal exactness.

When evil despises God's beloved and faithful witnesses on earth, the outward ordinances of the Lord lose their application for the time being. The holiness of ritual gives way before the rejection of the Lord and His people. Yes, the showbread was only for the priests. But for them to keep their consecrated bread and let the anointed king starve would be strange homage to God and to the king. And now the Son of David, the Lord of David, was there, and more rejected, more despised, than David himself."

Ahimelech became afraid and suspicious, but David invented a falsehood to calm the high priest's suspicions. The Word of God shows its truthfulness by reporting David's failure honestly. He was not fully trusting his God. So he tried to protect himself, and that led to the deception.

David was only a man, hunted by a powerful and relentless enemy. There is no need to try to justify what he did, and little reason to condemn it outright. Do we complain about the weakness of his faith, which led him to use human tricks of deception? Then let us search and test our own hearts. We may find far more untruthfulness in them than in this beloved man after God's own heart.

He arrived on the Sabbath day when the priests had changed the twelve loaves of showbread ("the bread of the face," or "of the presence"). God had told the priests to set these loaves on the golden table in the holy place every Sabbath (Ex. 25:30; Lev. 24:5-9)... David asked the priest for some of the stale loaves for himself and his companions. This was a bold request. This holy bread was made without yeast and covered with pure frankincense. It was one of the most holy fire offerings to Jehovah, and only the priests ate it, in the holy place (Lev. 24:7-9).

The priests had just put fresh bread in the vessels of the sanctuary to replace the bread that was there before. So David was not asking for the showbread itself, but for the loaves taken off the table. By law only the priests could eat it, but in these circumstances Ahimelech was right to give it to David. The Lord Jesus speaks approvingly of this in Matthew 12:3-4.

First, the priesthood had seriously failed in Israel. Second, the tabernacle service was in the wrong place, not the place God had chosen. Third, the ark was not there. Fourth, the true king was in exile and hungry because of persecution. This last point alone was reason enough for Ahimelech to give the bread to David. Real need comes before mere formal exactness.

He goes to the priest, who gives him the holy bread. This is according to the sovereign grace of God. God rises above the ordinances tied to blessing when people reject that blessing — when they reject Him in His chosen one and in the power of His testimony. When that happens, His sovereign grace sets faith above ordinances. Since people had rejected God Himself and His testimony, the showbread counted as common. God was in fact arranging everything anew.

How could anything needed by David be viewed any longer as holy in the eyes of God where David was rejected, the anointed of Jehovah?

Men could not reject the Lord's anointed and his companions, leave them in desperate need, and then try to use God's institutions to keep those needs unmet. No divine ordinance was to stand in the way of God caring for His anointed and those with him.

He did want to make sure that the men were ceremonially clean, and he took David's word for this.

It is only in the power of personal holiness, and in the immediate presence of God, that we can really share in our priestly portion... The way we get that place shows absolute grace. The place we get demands personal holiness. To speak of effort in reaching the place is the fallacy of legalism. To think of unholiness in the place is the blasphemy of lawlessness. I reach the position only through grace. I occupy the position only in holiness.

The showbread was priests' food. Believers are priests to God, and we live on holy bread... For Israel, the Jew, the holiness of the showbread was gone; it had become as common as any other bread. But for the church it has become the symbol of a blessed truth... This bread is "common" to us, the common privilege of all believers. But we cannot enjoy this high communion with the Father and the Son without separation from the world... Are the young men pure? asks the priest. They are, said David. It was not enough to follow David in profession; is there practical holiness? To such people the bread is common.

David, chosen of God and anointed by Samuel to be king over Israel, was fleeing from Saul, who wanted to kill him. It was a day when the arrangements the Lord had made for His worship and praise in Israel were sadly out of course. The ark was at Kirjath-jearim, while the tabernacle was at Nob, where the priests were too. There David came, a fugitive from the king's anger and starving with hunger. He arrived on the Sabbath day. That was the day the priests changed the twelve loaves of showbread ("the bread of the face," or "of the presence") on the golden table in the holy place, as God had told them to do every Sabbath. The ritual was therefore going on, though there was no ark inside the most holy place.

David also makes the point that the bread was "in a manner common, and the more so, because today (new) is hallowed in the vessels." Priests had just put fresh bread in the vessels of the sanctuary to replace what was there before. So David was not asking for the actual showbread, but for what had been taken off the table. Only the priests had a lawful right to this, but the circumstances made it right for Ahimelech to give it to David.

What virtue could remain for them in the old institutions? Everything now depended on David alone. So we can understand his words, a puzzle as they still are to most interpreters: "it" — the showbread — "is in a manner common; yes, even when it is sanctified that day in the vessel." David says "in a manner common," because God had not finished with these institutions after all. They were soon to be revived, and they would last for the appointed time. They were "common" as subject to his needs.

His words were not true that the king had sent him on some secret mission. He did not want Ahimelech to know that Saul was set on killing him. That might make the priest afraid to show David any open kindness. His words deceived Ahimelech, however, and the priest gave David the used bread of the sanctuary. He did want to make sure the men were ceremonially clean, and he took David's word for this.

Jesus is the light, and only in His light can we see light. So from the precious word of God He draws out this astonishing fact for us, and it truly is a fact. The rejection of the beloved of God among God's own people profanes what was most hallowed. David was the anointed of the Lord, and that place had rejected him. How could anything he needed still count as holy in the eyes of God?

David was rejected and a fugitive. In that state, the holy things tied to the ceremonies God had given Israel stopped being holy. The sin was David's rejection, and this made the consecrated showbread common. The rejection of God's anointed had profaned everything. This is the thought our Lord expressed to the Pharisees. They had rejected Him. How absurd for these hypocrites to talk about Sabbath-keeping while they were rejecting the Lord of the Sabbath!

The showbread was priests' food. Believers are priests to God, and we live on hallowed bread… For Israel the holiness of the showbread was gone; it had become as common as any other bread. For the church it has become the symbol of a blessed truth. To eat together is the sign of communion. We are made priests to God, and we have fellowship with one another as we eat of the bread from heaven. There is more than fellowship with one another: the bread is holy, and in it we have fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. This bread is "common" to us, the common privilege of all believers. But we cannot enjoy this high communion with the Father and the Son without separation from the world. Are the young men pure? the priest asks. They are, said David. It was not enough to follow David in profession; is there practical holiness? To those who have it the bread is "common."

Strictly speaking, it was unlawful for David and his men to eat this bread, for it was the property of priests only. But there are matters that make a difference. First, the priesthood had seriously failed in Israel. Secondly, the service of the tabernacle was in the wrong place, not the place God had chosen. Thirdly, the ark was not present. And fourthly, the true king was in exile and hungry because of persecution. This last matter alone was reason for Ahimelech's giving the bread to David. The question of genuine need takes precedence over mere formal exactness.

Fresh bread had just gone into the vessels of the sanctuary to replace what was there before. So David was not asking for the showbread itself, but for what had come off the table. By law only the priests had a right to this. Yet in these circumstances Ahimelech was right to give it to David.

The elect king is now rejected. He goes to the priest, who gives him the hallowed bread. This is the sovereign grace of God. He rises above the ordinances that go with blessing, when that blessing is rejected — when He Himself is rejected in His chosen one, and in the power of His testimony. When this is the case, He sets faith above ordinances in His sovereign grace. Since God Himself and His testimony are rejected, the showbread was considered common. God in fact was ordering all anew.

No divine ordinance was to stand in the way of God's anointed, and those with him, being cared for by God.

David, the beloved of God, was cast out too, and his followers were hungry. Once he ate with them the bread set apart for priests alone. Was this a sin? It was Saul's and the people's sin that there was no bread for David. It was their sin that the true anointed was an outcast. And the bread that was holy at a holy time was profaned in the hour of their wickedness. If it had no sanctity in the presence of a rejected David, how much less in the presence of a rejected Christ? A greater than the priests and a greater than David was there. So the Lord turned the charge of sin back on those who would have condemned the disciples.

Ahimelech became afraid and suspicious. To calm him, David made up a lie. This honest report of David's failure shows how truthful the Word of God is. He was not fully trusting his God. So he tried to protect himself, and that led him into the lie. How different are the actions of Him who according to the flesh was the son of David! "He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth" (1 Peter 2:22).

The showbread was priests' food. Believers are priests to God, and we live on hallowed bread… For Israel the holiness of the showbread was gone, and it had become as common as any other bread. For the church it has become the symbol of a blessed truth. To eat together is the sign of communion. God has made us priests, and we have fellowship with one another as we eat the bread from heaven. There is more than fellowship with one another: it is holy, hallowed bread, and in it we have fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. This bread is "common" to us — the common privilege of all believers. But we cannot enjoy this high fellowship with the Father and the Son unless we keep separate from the world.

But an ominous note comes in here, about Doeg an Edomite, the chief of Saul's shepherds. He had been "detained before the LORD" in that place. Does the Lord not allow things like this to happen, to remind us that we have not first sought His guidance before acting? For there is no sign that David asked for His leading. David knew Doeg was there (ch. 22:22), and expected he would tell Saul. Could he not then have been more cautious in asking for bread while Doeg was aware of it?

Now we have noticed the enemy here, the Edomite. If names have meaning, his name seems at first sight a strange one in this setting. It is Doeg, "the fearful". But are not our fears the greatest enemies our David and His followers can have? He is Himself rejected, so to follow Him means to share His rejection. He was there "detained before the LORD", and not by his own choice, we may be sure. His presence would soon have disastrous effects.

Moses said to the tribes of Gad and Reuben, "Be sure your sin will find you out." Wrongdoing cannot stay hidden for long. David was to discover that the evil seed he had planted in Nob would produce its evil fruit, and very quickly. Doeg, the chief of the royal herdsmen, saw him there with an unfriendly eye. He carried the news of Ahimelech's kindness to his master. The king was furious. He gave the cruel order to massacre all the people of Nob — men, women, and children. Not one of Saul's attendants would obey him and raise a hand against the defenceless priests of the Lord. Only Doeg would, his Edomite servant.

Doeg, whether on purpose or not, gives a false account of David's meeting with Ahimelech. David describes what happened in Psalm 52. From that, there can be little doubt that Doeg's own hatred led him to lie deliberately. Anything that weakened the kingdom of Israel would please an Edomite. By his account, Ahimelech was in the plot to make David king. Ahimelech had asked the Lord's guidance for him, and had given him food and the sword of Goliath. But Doeg put a wrong slant even on the statements that were correct. So his whole story was false witness, and it brought disaster on the priestly family.

But Doeg is a treacherous foe. He has learned that there is no more powerful weapon for destroying the innocent than the tongue… He was a lover of evil and of falsehood. In the tabernacle and before the Lord he was planning the work of destruction. He sharpened his tongue like a razor to kill the guiltless, a savage wolf that did not spare the flock.

Doeg is a fitting example of the spirit of wickedness at work, quiet and subtle. It works under the hardened conscience of a man who has turned from the faith he professes. Lying and malice were his choice, not his necessity. He is willingly against the truth. He lies against men's lives, and freely dips his hand in their blood… God is not his strength, yet he is a mighty man. But the end of human selfishness is divine retribution. God will righteously avenge His name in His own time.

Sadly, untruthfulness comes out in a more definite form. "The king has charged me with a matter and said to me, 'Let no one know anything of the matter about which I send you, and with which I have charged you.' I have made an appointment with the young men for such and such a place." Having begun with deception he gets deeper into its tangles. Circumstances are invented, so to speak, to supplement his first assertion. The king had appointed young men to hurry along the business entrusted to David! … Even this shows the perfection of the One of whom it is said above all, "Neither was deceit found in His mouth" (1 Peter 2:22).

David lied to Ahimelech, because he believed that the name of Saul carried more weight with him than the name of God. In going to Ahimelech, David acted in faith. The freedom of the divine anointing made God's ordinances and God's house the natural refuge of the man of His own choice in his hour of deep distress. But in front of the Lord's priest, policy governed his conduct, not faith at all… Evasion and lying are what spiritual timidity naturally turns to.

He tells Ahimelech that because of the urgency of the king's business he had no weapons, and yet that he needed one. Goliath's sword was there wrapped in a cloth behind the ephod. No doubt it was kept as a reminder that God had broken the power of the enemy. Did David really need the world's weapons for his protection? But he took it.

The sword of Goliath came into David's hands a second time, but under very different circumstances from the first. When he took it from Goliath, his absolute confidence in the Lord and his devotion to the interests of His people marked him out above all… Yes, this flight to the tabernacle for help looked fair, but it was not a true seeking of the Lord, for David stooped to trickery to get what he wanted.

Ahimelech has no weapon other than Goliath's sword. This instrument of David's victory was kept behind the ephod, wrapped in a cloth. It was cared for and set in a place of honour under the very eyes of God. In the same way, the testimony of Christ's victory is His death, by which He conquered the prince of death. That testimony has been carried as a memorial into the most holy place, where Jesus has entered by His own blood.

Let us not forget that, if David is a type of Christ, he is often also at the same time a type of believers. Like David, we go weaponless to meet the enemy, but one weapon alone is enough for us: the death of Christ and our death with Him. We find this in the sanctuary. There is none like it, and Satan can do nothing against this weapon which has conquered him.

Doeg also knew that David had asked and received the sword of Goliath. David evidently did not stop to consider that it was unfair of him to endanger Ahimelech without Ahimelech's knowledge of the facts. But if we act without depending on the Lord for His guidance, we are likely to find ourselves exposed to further failure.

David asks for a weapon. Ahimelech has no arms other than Goliath's sword. This instrument of David's victory lay behind the ephod, wrapped in a cloth, cared for and set in a place of honour under the very eyes of God. In the same way, the testimony of Christ's victory is death itself, by which He conquered the prince of death. That testimony has been carried as a memorial into the most holy place, where Jesus has entered by His own blood.

It was the emblem of a great day for Israel, a great defeat for the Philistine; but it was the sword that death supplied for victory. Was it the power or skill of David that was in the truest sense the means of victory? Was it not his faith that overcame, as it alone overcomes the world now? To conquer this way, the Spirit must wield the weapon taken out of death, in the power of life in Christ. It is useless otherwise, as Goliath proved.

David had used the giant's own weapon to kill him and to cut off his head. Death was the weapon Satan had used to terrify the people of God. That is the very weapon the Lord Jesus used to win His great victory over Satan, and to deliver His saints (Heb. 2:14-15).

Let us not forget that, if David is a type of Christ, he is often also at the same time a type of believers. Like David, we go weaponless to meet the enemy, but one weapon alone is enough for us: the death of Christ and our death with Him. We find this in the sanctuary. There is none like it and Satan can do nothing against this weapon which has vanquished him.

He ate the showbread, which only the priests were allowed to eat, and he received the sword of Goliath from behind the ephod. He was fed, he was armed, and he would have been guided too... The showbread and the sword of Goliath may also carry a picture. They point to a ministry the soul badly needs: the true bread to nourish it, and the sword of death — no longer our dread, but now for us, used without mercy against everything inside us and around us that hinders obedience to the will of God (Rom. 6:11, Col. 3:5).

David also gets from Ahimelech that which surely he had a right to — the sword of Goliath overthrown in battle.

If we act without depending on the Lord for His guidance, we are likely to find ourselves exposed to further failure. He tells Ahimelech that because the king's business was urgent he had no weapons, and yet that he needed one. Did David really need the world's weapons to protect himself? But he took it.

The sword of Goliath — the power of death. David carried it with him, but certainly did not show it to Achish.

A day of honour may be followed at once by one of shame, and none is exempt from the need of dependence on God or His guidance. How humiliating to see David fleeing "that day" for fear of Saul to Achish the king of Gath!

David flees to Achish. Here are three things so closely linked together as to be like cause and effect. Failure in trusting God is the root of all departure, now as then. There was an attempt to deceive Saul, a bolder untruth to Ahimelech, and now degradation before Achish. In this backsliding course the fear of man grows, and trust in God seems quite gone. Why else would he seek refuge with Israel's bitterest enemies? It was as if he were giving up his inheritance in Israel, forgetting his anointing, forsaking his God.

Here we find David really taking himself out of the hands of God and putting himself into the hands of Achish. He leaves the place of dependence and goes into the very middle of the enemies of God and of Israel. And notice, he has in his hand the very sword of the Philistine champion.

Why then is he struck with fear as he presents himself before this king? It is because he was led there by his natural wisdom and not by the Lord. Philistia should have been no more a refuge for David than Egypt was for Abraham. He thought this would let him escape Saul. Instead he exchanges one enemy for another, and finds dishonour and contempt.

A believer who runs into the world to escape the fear of trial is sure to increase his difficulties and sorrows. Is fear removed? No, it only takes a different form. He is now in real danger of his life, for he had no right to claim the protection of the God of Israel.

Leaving Ahimelech, David went to Gath, where Goliath had lived! First he accepts the world's weapon, then he descends to the world's level. How easily we slip when faith begins to waver! In fact he goes to Achish, the king of Gath, whose name means "only a man." What a poor substitute for "the living God"! That is what David had called Him when Goliath challenged Israel.

The ministry of Ahimelech might have taught him much. Still, David learned more of God in the hands of the Philistines than in the tabernacle. And how true it is now: believers often learn more of Christ in suffering and distress than from the pulpit... When David was depending on the Lord, sure of His favour, the lion, the bear, and even Goliath were no difficulty to him.

David composed Psalm 56 "when the Philistines seized him in Gath." The weakness of his faith had made him seek refuge with Israel's enemies. What does he find there? Man, who instead of helping him oppresses him and would swallow him up. The one whom a fear born of the flesh had driven from Saul now learns what the flesh is... but he still has God. He has learned to put all his trust in God: "When I am afraid, I put my trust in you."

But grace knows how to turn the low estate of the believer to its own account.

The Philistines recognized David's true character as "king of the land" — the man who had killed ten thousands. They imagined he could act only as their enemy. They could not understand what was going on in his soul at that strange stage of his history. They never dreamed that the man who killed Goliath had fled to them for protection from Saul. The world cannot understand the ups and downs of the life of faith.

At Gath David finds his own history against him. The glorious things God did through him become the case against him in the court of Achish. What else could he expect? Could he even want them to accept him as a man who had abandoned his convictions? Those convictions had strengthened his arm and steadied his heart only a short time before. … How inconsistent and miserable unbelief is! It is only consistent in this, that it keeps sinking to a lower level.

But mercy is above all, and his great danger becomes the means of driving him back to the land he should never have left. God even uses the Philistines to remind him of two things: he was the anointed king, and that memorable fight with Goliath brought him honour. They recognise him as the "king of the land." They read his triumph over Goliath rightly, and the song that greeted him when the women of Israel met him with music and dancing. David was ten times greater than Saul. … Both Saul and the Philistines were his enemies. Saul had said that David would reign, and the Philistines now call him king. The only effect of their words is to make David greatly afraid.

The servants of Achish were alarmed that David was there… They recognized that David had more right to be king of Israel than Saul had… David heard what they were saying. He had been afraid of Saul. Now he becomes afraid of Achish — "only a man." Yet he had not been afraid of the giant Goliath, who came from the same city.

Achish would never have dared call David a madman in the valley of Elah! No, nor in the cave of Adullam. But David had put himself into this stranger's power. So he had to choose: suffer for his past faithfulness, or give it all up and pretend to be a fool in their eyes. They were right to judge him the king of the land. But he was afraid of what such a high dignity would cost him. So he denied his kingship and became a fool. How often we can trace this same evil in the walk of Christians!

The title of Psalm 56 implies that this was his case: it belongs to the time "when the Philistines seized him in Gath." His unbelief brought him into greater trouble than the trouble he had fled from. But his distress, more effective than any ministry, threw him on the mercy of God — and not in vain. Brought into His presence, his faith revived; he became like the David of his early days. What did he now think of his troubles? He saw at once how powerless man was, though he had just been in such deep fear of him… And notice this: the soul values the word of God when it is in distress. The sickbed is very different from the study chair.

Armed in this way, David goes to Achish, the king of Gath (vv. 10-15). Why then is he struck with fear as he presents himself before this king? His own natural wisdom led him there, not the Lord. Philistia should have been no more a refuge for David than Egypt was for Abraham. Thinking to escape Saul this way, he merely exchanges one enemy for another and finds dishonour and contempt.

Leaving Ahimelech, David went to Gath, where Goliath had lived! First he accepts the world's weapon, then he descends to the world's level. How easily we slip when faith begins to waver! He goes to Achish, the king of Gath. That name means "only a man" — a poor substitute for "the living God" David had spoken of when Goliath challenged Israel (ch. 17:26)! It was fear of Saul that moved him — the same Saul who had once been afraid of Goliath, and was afraid of David too (ch. 18:12).

The Philistines recognised David's true character as "king of the land" — the slayer of ten thousands; they imagined he could not possibly act as anything but their enemy. They could not grasp the state of his soul at that strange point in his life. They never guessed that the man who killed Goliath had fled to them for protection from Saul. The world cannot understand the ups and downs of the life of faith. Who could have thought that with Goliath's sword in his hand he could tremble to admit he was Goliath's conqueror? Yet so it was.

David flees to Achish. Here are three things so closely linked together as to be like cause and effect. Indeed, failure to trust God is the root of all departure, now as then. He tried to deceive Saul, he told Ahimelech a bolder untruth, and now he sinks into degradation before Achish. In this backsliding course the fear of man grows, and trust in God seems quite gone. Why else would he seek refuge with Israel's bitterest enemies?… A saint who runs into the world to escape the fear of trial is sure to increase his troubles and sorrows. So it was with David. Is fear removed? No, it only takes a different form, and now his life is in real danger. But mercy is above all, and his great danger becomes the means of driving him back to the land he should never have left.

When a believer's heart is not holding on to the Lord day by day, it looks for refuge in human schemes at every hard moment… Neither safety nor honour can go with a compromise of truth. A Christian in disguise is as poor and pitiful a sight as the fear-stricken king of Israel when he shamed his royal person by pretending to be mad.

David wrote Psalm 34 "when he changed his behaviour before Abimelech, so that he drove him out, and he went away." The psalm celebrates the Lord's tender care of the believer under trial… This man of God, in seeking help from Achish, had only a broken reed in his hand. Now, taught by God, he can say, "I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears" (v. 4)… What he had just been through let him encourage others: "Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!" (v. 8).

What a strange place David chose for his protection! Why should he have gone to the strongest enemies of God and of His people? He had acted in unbelief, and unbelief was dragging him down lower and lower. Instead of fleeing to God, he turned to Gath. And then, to save himself, because they had found him out, he pretended to be mad.

He was afraid of Saul; now he becomes afraid of Achish — "only a man." Yet he had not been afraid of the giant Goliath, who came from that same city. Again, he had not depended on God to lead him. So he sinks lower still, into a humiliating deception (v.13), acting in front of everyone like an insane man.

This is always what happens when a believer leaves the path of simple dependence on God and of living as a stranger in the world. The "behavior" must be "changed" and the real character given up. In its place he takes a course marked by outright deceit before God and folly before the world. This is very sad. A believer should always keep his dignity — the dignity that comes from knowing he stands in God's presence. But the moment faith gives way, his power to testify is gone, and the man of faith is despised as a "madman."

David had put himself in this stranger's power. So he had to choose: suffer for his past faithfulness, or give it all up and play the fool in their eyes. They judged rightly that he was the king of the land. But he was afraid of what holding such high dignity would cost him, so he denied his kingship and became a fool. How often we can trace the same evil at work in the lives of Christians!

Hearing his own great deeds named makes him very afraid before Achish, king of Gath. To save himself he sinks lower still, acting the madman in front of them all. He escapes because people in that part of the world treated madness as in some sense a divine possession. So a real shame has to rescue him from a false shame, and a pretended folly has to rescue him from the results of the real one. The Lord does not step in openly. He cannot honour unbelief that way. Yet by shaming that unbelief He gives real help.

Unfaithfulness brought David to a place where his enemies called him mad, and he gave them reason to say it. Faithfulness and truth brought the same insult on the Lord Jesus, mixed with blasphemy. His enemies said, "He has a demon, and is insane." Oh, what a contrast between the picture and the One it pictures! Here is the Perfect One, there the failing saint... Achish had reason for what he said; the Pharisees knew better, they blasphemed because they hated.

In seeking help from Achish, this man of God had held only a broken reed. Now, taught by God, he can say: "I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears" (v. 4)... He had learned the lesson that God was teaching him through His discipline. What he had just been through now let him encourage others: "Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!" (v. 8).

David goes to Achish, the king of Gath (vv. 10-15). Why then is he struck with fear as he presents himself before this king? It is because he was led there by his natural wisdom and not by the Lord. No more than Egypt for Abraham should Philistia be a refuge for David. Thinking to escape Saul in this way, he merely exchanges one enemy for another and finds dishonour and contempt.

What can David do with Goliath's sword in Gath? Would he even dare to show it? Association with the world and looking to it for protection too often lead to being ruled by it.

So it must always be when a believer leaves the path of simple dependence on God and of being a stranger in the world. The "behaviour" must be "changed" and the real character abandoned. In its place comes a course marked by outright deceit before God and folly before the world. This is very sad. A believer should always keep his dignity — the dignity that flows from knowing he is in God's presence. But the moment faith gives way, the power of testimony is gone, and the man of faith is despised as a "madman."

Achish would not have dared to call David by such a name in the valley of Elah! No, nor in the cave of Adullam. But David had put himself into the power of this stranger. So he had to either suffer for his past faithfulness, or give it all up and pretend to be a fool in their eyes. They rightly judged him to be the king of the land. But he was afraid of what it would cost to hold on to such a high dignity. So he denied his kingship and became a fool.

The Philistines might have spotted the deception if they had been discerning enough. Someone is not likely to act perfectly normal, then suddenly turn totally insane, as he appeared to be. But Achish, because of his servants' words, gave David more attention. When he saw him acting like a madman, he was only disgusted. He dismissed the whole matter as of no account (vv. 14-15). David apparently wanted this result, so that he could escape with nothing stopping him.

The mention of his own great deeds makes him deeply afraid before Achish, king of Gath. To save himself he sinks lower still, acting the madman in front of them all. He escapes under cover of what people in the East treated as a kind of divine possession. So a real shame has to rescue him from a false shame, and a pretended folly has to rescue him from the consequences of the real one. Openly the Lord does not step in: He cannot honour unbelief by doing so; yet to shame it is to give real help.

Unfaithfulness brought David into a position where his enemies called him mad, and he gave them cause for saying it. Faithfulness and truth brought the same reproach on the Lord Jesus, mixed with blasphemy. His enemies said, "He has a demon and is mad." What a contrast between the picture and the One it points to! … Achish had reason for what he said; the Pharisees knew better, and they blasphemed because they hated.

This psalm celebrates the Lord's tender care of the believer under trial. It expresses David's confidence, because in his affliction God had taken his cause in hand. This man of God, in seeking help from Achish, had had only a broken reed in his hand. Now, taught by God, he can say: "I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears."

Armed in this manner, David goes to Achish, the king of Gath (vv. 10–15). Why then is he struck with fear as he presents himself before this king? It is because he was led there by his natural wisdom and not by the Lord. Philistia should have been no more of a refuge for David than Egypt was for Abraham. Thinking to escape Saul in this way, he merely exchanges one enemy for another and finds dishonor and contempt.

He was afraid of Saul, now he becomes afraid of Achish — "only a man," though he had not been afraid of the giant Goliath who was of the same city. But again, he had not depended on God to lead him, and he finds himself descending further to the level of a humiliating deception (v.13), acting publicly like an insane man.

Achish would not have dared to call David by such a name in the valley of Elah! Nor in the cave of Adullam. But sadly, David had put himself in the power of this stranger. So he had to choose: either suffer for his past faithfulness, or give it all up and pretend to be a fool in their eyes. They judged rightly that he was the king of the land. But he was afraid of what holding such a high position would cost him, so he denied his kingship and became a fool.

To save himself he sinks even lower, acting the madman in front of them all, and escaping under cover of what in the East was thought to be a kind of divine possession. So a real shame had to rescue him from a false shame, and a pretended folly had to save him from the results of the real one. The Lord does not step in openly: He cannot honor unbelief by doing so. Yet to shame it is to give real help. There is still no victory over the Philistine here: the victory is on his side instead.

Psalm 34 was composed "when [David] changed his behavior before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he departed." This psalm celebrates the Lord's tender care of the believer under trial. It expresses David's confidence, which came from this: in his affliction, God had taken up his cause. When this man of God sought help from Achish, he had held nothing but a broken reed. Now, taught by God, he can say: "I sought the LORD, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears" (v. 4).

But grace knows how to use the believer's low condition for its own ends, as we may learn from what follows.

Unfaithfulness brought David into a position where his enemies called him mad, and he gave them cause for so saying. Faithfulness and truth brought upon the Lord Jesus the same reproach, mingled with blasphemy. His enemies said, "He has a devil and is mad." Oh, what a contrast between the picture and the One it pictures! ... Achish had reason for what he said; the Pharisees knew better, they blasphemed because they hated.