And David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan his son;
Saul had hunted David for years. His death cleared the last obstacle to the throne. Yet with the crown in reach, David's first act is a song of grief. This verse opens that lament, and it raises the question the whole chapter turns on: what do you do when an enemy falls?
What the lament leaves out is as striking as what it says.
David's lament over Saul shows a spirit we so often lack, and that should humble us. Not one hidden word in it hints at triumph over a fallen enemy. Not one phrase shows selfish satisfaction at being rid of his persecution. For years Saul had treated him with cruel injustice and wronged him again and again. David passes over all of it. He remembers only the brilliant natural gifts that might have graced a throne, though they were completely powerless to shield Saul from the results of his stubborn will.
At Gilboa David did not look at his own gain. He saw dishonour done to the king the Lord had anointed.
The death of Saul and Jonathan opens an easy way for David to the throne. But his own advantage is not what governs his thoughts about it. He sees only the dishonour of the Lord's anointed, and so he weeps over the day of Mount Gilboa instead of celebrating it.
A public lament could have been an act — mourning for the crowd while taking the kingdom. One writer insists the grief was real, and shows why Saul still mattered to David.
He did not pretend to feel for Saul's troubles and then take the kingdom without regret the moment Saul was dead. The news of Saul's death truly melted David's heart... Whatever Saul's troubles, to David he was the king of Israel. Whatever his faults, he was a king who had suffered misfortune... And if Saul had persecuted David unjustly, at this moment David forgot it. Now that Saul has fallen, David will remember only what can do him honour. Above all, he remembers that Jehovah's anointed and Jehovah's people have fallen before their enemies.
Forgetting a wrong is one thing. David goes further. He looks back over Saul's life and says aloud what deserves honour.
David's lament is the touching expression of the affections of this man of God. A heart full of love has no room for resentment or complaints. If in the past David had wept at unjust accusations and hatred, he has now forgotten everything. There is no word of reproach against the man whose bones now lie under the tamarisk tree at Jabesh. But it is not enough for this noble heart only to forget. He loves to remember. He recalls that Saul had been the Lord's anointed, the one who carried His testimony. He remembers that Saul had led His people to victory... His lament is Israel's lament — the Israel he had once thought of fighting, in a day of weakness, by joining the Philistines. David now identifies himself with Israel and shares in its tears.
The lament is more than raw feeling. David hands it to Judah to learn by heart.
In this lament he pours out his grief over the disasters of Israel's leaders and their army. But the children of Judah are to learn this song of the bow. It is an instruction for them. They witnessed Israel's disaster, and they must know how to avoid such a disaster in the future. Saul had been overcome by the archers when he himself had no archers left.
Read David as a picture of Christ, and the lament opens onto something larger than one battlefield.
But we remember that David is a picture of his Son and Lord, and this reminds us of a deeper sorrow than the one the son of Jesse felt... Think of Him looking at the city that would so soon ring with cries for His blood, and with mockery too. He wept over that beloved city. He had no resentment and no bitterness against the people who were bringing their own destruction on themselves. He had only sorrow for the shame of Israel. In Him we see perfect divine compassion and pity.
- Wrong — Saul persecuted David for years. The lament passes over every one of those personal wrongs.
- Refusal — the lament holds no hint of triumph over a fallen enemy and no relief at being rid of him.
- Remembering — David does more than forget the wrong. He recalls Saul as the Lord's anointed, who led God's people to victory.
- Instruction — David turns the grief into a song for Judah to learn, so they can avoid the same disaster.
- Reflection — David points to Christ. He wept over the city that would soon call for His blood, and He felt sorrow, not resentment.
and he bade them teach the children of Judah [the song of] the bow. Behold, it is written in the book of Jasher --
David's grief over Saul and Jonathan does not stay private. He turns it into a song, orders a whole tribe to learn it, and points to a written record. This short verse raises two questions: what did David have Judah learn, and why should a defeated king's death become a lesson in archery?
Scripture names this book only twice, and nothing more is known about it.
A book only referred to in Joshua 10:13; 2 Sam. 1:18, and of which nothing further is known. The quotations are poetical. Several other writings carry this title, but none of them have any connection with the book Scripture mentions.
The name means "the upright." One writer finds that fitting, though he cannot fully explain the link. What fits is how David treats a king who had wronged him.
Personal gain does not tempt David to overlook the crime of lifting a hand against the Lord's anointed. And the injury he himself suffered does not stop him from seeing all that was noble and good in the fallen king, or the way God had used him to bless His people. The reference to the book of Jashar (of the "upright") fits this strikingly well, though we may not be able to explain it properly.
The ESV reads only that the song "should be taught to the people of Judah." The Hebrew keeps the word "bow" here, and translators must supply a word to make sense of it. Commentators differ on which word.
Verse eighteen as it reads in the King James Version makes no clear sense. The Hebrew reads "and he told them to teach the children of Judah the bow;" the words "the use of" are supplied. Others read instead "the song of the bow" and claim it refers to this lamentation, which David taught Judah. (See verse 22.)
Another writer leaves the question open. Both readings, he notes, point back to the weapon that killed Saul.
We find later, in connection with David's lament, that he commanded to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow. Perhaps this means giving them weapons to fight the enemy at a distance. Or perhaps "the bow" was a tune of that name that carried the lament over Saul and Jonathan. We cannot say for certain. In either case, it is suggestive that the reference is probably to the means by which Saul was wounded.
David did not only feel this grief. He gave the song as a lesson to a tribe that had just watched the disaster it describes.
In this lament he pours out his grief over the disasters of Israel's leaders and their army. But the children of Judah are to learn this song of the bow (v. 18). It is an instruction for them. As witnesses of Israel's disaster they must know how to avoid such disaster in the future. Saul had been overcome by the archers (1 Sam. 31:3) when he himself had been deprived of archers.
Why that weapon in particular carries the lesson is worth spelling out.
A soldier uses the sword in hand-to-hand combat. He uses the bow to attack from a distance and stop the enemy's approach. The archer sees the enemy coming far off. He weighs his movements and his plans, and brings him to the ground before he gets the chance to attack. The bow is a weapon requiring greater skill than the sword, but it is above all the symbol of strength.
Behind the lesson about weapons lies a deeper cause of the defeat. And one Man met the same archers with a different outcome.
The error that led to their ruin was thinking their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us, but in Him, whose strength never fails on our behalf. The Man Jesus Christ is the example of this. He did not seek strength except in God... Smitten by the archers (Gen. 49:23-24), His strength did not leave Him. When His weakness appeared to give way to the enemy's power His bow remained strong.
David weeps, and in the same breath gives an order. One writer reads the command as proof that his grief never sank into despair.
David is in no way discouraged, for his faith is in action. This disaster grieves him, but it also gives him the chance to guard against another like it. He told them to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow — the weapon that killed Saul. David, still humble, goes on well.
And the song he had them memorise contains not one line of settled scores.
What grace this shows if we consider that Saul had hunted David and put so many afflictions on him! He does not refer to it in a single word.
- Wound. Saul fell to archers he had no answer for; the weapon that killed him becomes the name of the song about him.
- Word. The Hebrew is bare — "teach the children of Judah the bow." Some supply "the use of," others "the song of." Either way it points back to the wound.
- Written. David's song goes into the Book of Jashar, "the upright." Scripture names that book twice, and nothing more is known of it.
- Warning. David sets the song as instruction for Judah, so those who watched the disaster learn how not to repeat it.
- Weakness. The real defeat was trusting their own strength. Strength comes only through dependence — seen in the One whose bow stayed strong when the archers struck.
The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places how are the mighty fallen!
David's reign begins with a song of grief, not a crown — grief for the man who hunted him and the friend who died with him. The verse asks what Israel's "glory" was, and why it fell on the very heights that should have kept it safe.
The throne was now open, yet David's first act was not to take it. One writer notes that his sorrow was real, not staged:
David did not pretend to feel for Saul's misfortunes. He did not then seize the kingdom without regret as soon as Saul was dead. David's heart really melted when he heard of Saul's death... Whatever Saul's misfortunes, he was the king of Israel to David. Whatever his faults, he was an unfortunate king... Now that he has fallen, David will only remember what can do him honour. Above all, he remembers that it is the Lord's anointed and the Lord's people who have fallen before their enemies.
Older translations put the opening line as "the beauty of Israel is slain." Commentators read it of Saul himself. He was the finest-looking man in the nation, and he died on Israel's heights.
"The beauty of Israel is slain on your high places: how the mighty have fallen" (v.19). From a natural point of view Saul and Jonathan presented an attractive appearance. In this Israel was certainly not behind any other nation. Yet the "high places" were those in which they fell. Having the throne increased Saul's desire for a place of high honour, but his fall was that much greater.
The heights carry a second irony. Israel's mountains were meant to keep the nation safe.
The flower of Israel was its king, one who had stood out in personal beauty above all his fellows. The heights of Israel should have been strongholds that no enemy could storm. But how the mighty have fallen! All the power, the beauty, and the greatness of men was here laid in the dust.
The same gifts that made Saul admired did nothing to protect him. That is what David chooses to remember, and what he refuses to gloat over.
David's lament over Saul shows a spirit that is missing in us, and that should humble us. Not one hidden word in it hints at triumph over a fallen enemy. There is no note of selfish satisfaction at being free from his persecution. For years Saul had treated him with cruel injustice, yet David passes over all of it, and all his personal wrongs. David remembers only Saul's brilliant natural gifts. They might have graced a throne, but they had no power at all to shield him from the results of his own headstrong will.
That cry is not a one-off. It returns twice more in the song, quoted here in an older wording:
This Song of the Bow has a piercing refrain: "How are the mighty fallen!" (v. 19). "How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle!" (v. 25). "How are the mighty fallen, and the instruments of war perished!" (v. 27). What did they lack? The bow which had overcome Saul!
The failure was not just military. Saul leaned on his own strength — and one Man never did:
Israel's mighty men with Saul at their head had met the bow of an enemy stronger than they. The error that led to their ruin was thinking their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us. It is found in Him whose strength never fails on our behalf. The Man Jesus Christ is the example of this... Struck by the archers, His strength did not leave Him.
Saul's fall means more than one king's death. One writer sees in it the fall of human rule at its best.
In the history of Saul we have the history of human government and royal authority at its best, so far as man is concerned. The end, we have seen, is self-destruction... So in the setting aside of Saul we see a picture of the setting aside of mere human government. Christ is the only One whose shoulders can carry the government and hold it secure.
- Fallen — The refrain sounds three times in the lament. On the day the throne came free, the theme is the mighty falling, not David rising.
- Beauty — Saul was Israel's finest-looking man. His natural gifts had no power to shield him from his own headstrong will.
- Height — He fell on Israel's heights. The higher the honour sought, the greater the fall. Ground that should have been a stronghold became a grave.
- Strength — What Saul lacked was the bow. Real strength comes only through dependence on God. Christ shows it: struck by the archers, He did not weaken.
- Grief — David shows no trace of triumph over a fallen enemy. He remembers only what honours Saul: the Lord's anointed and the Lord's people have fallen.
Tell [it] not in Gath, carry not the tidings in the streets of Ashkelon; Lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, Lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph.
Saul is dead, and David's lament opens with the enemy rather than with his own grief. He names two Philistine cities, Gath and Ashkelon, and asks that Israel's disaster stay out of their streets — even though Saul had been his enemy.
The cities David names were enemy ground. One of them Israel had once held and then lost.
Ashkelon was one of the five main cities of the Philistines. It fell to Judah's lot, and Judah took Ashkelon and the land around it (Judges 1:18). But they did not really subdue it. It was still in the hands of the Philistines when Samson, with the Spirit of the Lord upon him, killed thirty men in the city and took their spoil (Judges 14:19). We see from 1 Samuel 6:17 and 2 Samuel 1:20 that it stayed that way.
David's cry was a wish, not a command, and the report had already outrun him. The "uncircumcised" in his lament are the Philistines themselves.
David wished that no one would tell the sad news in the chief cities of the Philistines, Gath and Ashkelon. But we have already heard that the news went out through the land of the Philistines (1 Samuel 31:9). The daughters of the uncircumcised were already rejoicing in triumph.
Saul's death cleared David's road to the throne. He refused to treat it as good news.
When his enemy fell, his own sorrows were about to end and the way to the throne lay open before him. Yet he had no heart to rejoice in these advantages of his own. He did not look on his own things. He knew nothing but grief at the fall and dishonour of the Lord's anointed... The messenger who brought the news did not understand David. He judged that he was bringing joy to David, and that he should have received a reward.
David's words are an act of covering. He wants no audience for Israel's ruin.
As he thinks of this overthrow, David would gladly draw the curtain over it. He would hide this scene of desolation from the gloating eyes of their enemies.
Behind the covering lies a conviction about what Philistine joy is worth.
Faith always remembers that even judgment on Saul brings no victory to other evildoers. God's enemies gain no real triumph from the fall of human righteousness or excellence.
Not long before, David had thought of fighting Israel on the Philistine side. Here he weeps with Israel instead.
His lament is Israel's lament. In a day of weakness he had thought of fighting that same Israel by joining himself to the Philistines. David now identifies himself with Israel and shares in its tears. Joy may be the portion of the daughters of the uncircumcised, but David will never share in it.
A later prophet borrowed David's line when he warned of an invading army.
This passage describes the advance of the Assyrian. No one is to publish the coming disaster in Gath — that is, the Philistines are not to hear of it. (See 2 Samuel 1:20.)
The same question comes to us. What do we feel when something that bears Christ's name falls?
Do we have David's true feelings toward the Christian profession and its leaders? Do we mourn rather than rejoice? Are we distressed rather than condemning? Satan expects the overthrow of what bears Christ's name, or claims to belong to Him. Are our hearts pained at the thought that he is getting it? ... Tears over the ruin speak more to the hearts of the Lord's sheep caught up in this ruin than the most righteous criticisms do. So do grace and pity toward those who have gone astray.
- Enemy first. David's first thought is Gath and Ashkelon. Israel never truly subdued these Philistine cities, and David measures the loss by who will celebrate it.
- No gloating. Saul's death opened David's way to the throne. Yet he had no heart to rejoice in his own advantage, and the messenger hoping for a reward had misread him.
- Curtain drawn. David would hide the scene from gloating eyes. God's enemies gain no real triumph from the fall of human excellence.
- Tears shared. The man who had once thought of fighting Israel now weeps with Israel. He takes no part in the joy of the uncircumcised.
- Still asked. When what bears Christ's name falls, does it draw mourning from us, or criticism?
Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, no rain upon you, nor fields of heave-offerings! For there the shield of the mighty was vilely cast away, The shield of Saul, [as] not anointed with oil.
David's song over Saul and Jonathan turns from the men to the ground where they fell. He calls down on Mount Gilboa a barrenness to match the disaster. Why curse a hillside, and what does it mean that Saul's shield lay there "not anointed with oil"?
The curse is total. Nothing falls from the sky, and nothing grows on the hill to offer to God. One writer spells out how complete the loss is:
The mountains of Gilboa, where Saul and Jonathan fell, are to be cut off from all future blessing. No dew or rain is to fall on them, and no fields there are to yield their flocks as offerings. It was the scene of death and judgment. For was it not here that the shield of the mighty was cast away — a shield without the oil of the Spirit's power.
Did the land really dry up? One commentator admits we cannot know, and points to the reason behind David's words:
We do not know if David's words came true, though they may have for a time at least. He felt that the mountains of Gilboa should have no dew or rain, because Saul had fallen there as though God had never anointed him king.
Asking for no dew is not just poetry. Dew carries a settled meaning across the Bible:
Dew was the familiar token of God's favour. It was largely the source of the land's fertility, and without it the land would have been parched and barren. Isaac uses this picture when he blesses Jacob (Gen. 27:28). Moses repeats it in his closing blessing on the tribes (Deut. 33:28). Elijah shows God's judgment upon the land by declaring dew should not fall (1 Kings 17:1).
The same writer carries the picture over from the land to the people:
We know that all refreshing, whether for Israel or the Church, comes by the Holy Spirit. The divine dew is His blessed influence, bringing refreshing and help. Just as the land stops bearing fruit without dew, so there is no fruit without the Spirit's unhindered work. Barrenness will be the result.
A shield is for defence. Saul's shield lay thrown down on the field. Older translations read "vilely cast away" where the ESV has "defiled." One commentator hears in it a warning to any believer frightened out of confidence in God:
What is needed then is the "shield of faith." Satan comes and tempts me: Is God for you? How do you know? ... If Satan succeeds in terrifying a man, he runs away, and there is no armour for the back. Of Saul, David said, "the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away" (among the Philistines). "The shield of faith" is what you use to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.
Saul was the anointed king, and David never forgets it. Yet on Gilboa his shield lay there as if he had never been anointed at all. One writer names the cause, and it is not a lack of ability:
Israel's mighty men with Saul at their head had met the bow of an enemy stronger than they. The error that led to their ruin was thinking their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us. It is found in Him, whose strength never fails on our behalf.
Saul hunted David for years. David's lament over him holds no trace of relief:
The lamentation of David over Saul reveals a spirit whose absence in us may well humble us. There is not even a hidden word in it that hints at triumph over a fallen enemy, and no sign of selfish satisfaction at being free from his persecution. For years Saul treated him with cruel injustice, yet David passes over it all, along with his many personal wrongs. David remembers only Saul's brilliant natural gifts. They might have graced a throne, but they were completely powerless to shield him from the results of his headstrong will.
- Anointing — Saul really was the Lord's anointed, yet he fell as if he never had been. A title on a man is not the same as power in him.
- Oil — his shield lay there without oil, the picture of the Spirit's power. Where that work is hindered, only barrenness follows.
- Dew — dew is the Bible's familiar sign of God's favour. To ask for none is to ask for that favour to be gone.
- Shield — a dropped shield is faith let go under fear; there is no armour for the back of a man who runs.
- Strength — Saul counted his own strength enough, and it ruined him. Real strength comes only through depending on God, whose strength never fails.
From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, The bow of Jonathan turned not back, And the sword of Saul returned not empty.
David's lament for Saul and Jonathan turns here to praise their courage in battle. Two questions press: why honour the weapons of a king who hunted him, and what does the bow stand for in a song Israel had to learn?
David turned his grief into teaching for the nation. One writer ties the song to the weapon that decided the battle:
In this lament David expresses his grief over the disasters of Israel's leaders and their army. But the people of Judah are to learn this song of the bow (v. 18). It is an instruction for them. They watched Israel's disaster, so they must know how to avoid such disaster in the future. Saul had been overcome by the archers (1 Sam. 31:3) when he himself had no archers left. In fact, from 1 Chronicles 12:1-7 we learn that before Saul's defeat the band of archers from the tribe of Benjamin, and in large part from the family of Kish, had rallied around David and joined him at Ziklag.
The bow carries a fixed meaning across Scripture:
Throughout Scripture the bow is the symbol of strength to conquer the enemy. The sword serves in hand-to-hand combat. The bow attacks from a distance and resists the enemy while he is still approaching. The archer sees him coming far off. He takes account of his movements and his plans, and brings him to the ground before he has a chance to attack. The bow needs more skill than the sword. Above all it is the symbol of strength, because it takes powerful arms and hands to draw a bow and use it properly.
David praises weapons that never failed — yet the men who carried them lost the battle. The same writer names the flaw behind that defeat:
Israel's mighty men with Saul at their head had met the bow of an enemy stronger than they. Their ruin came from one error: they thought their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. We do not find strength in ourselves. We find it in Him, and His strength never fails on our behalf. The Man Jesus Christ is the example of this. He sought strength only in God; otherwise He would not have been the Perfect Man. Struck by the archers (Gen. 49:23-24), His strength did not leave Him. When His weakness seemed to give way to the enemy's power, His bow stayed strong — His strength was full. This strength existed only in dependence.
Saul's sword came back from the blood of the slain, not empty. Another writer recalls what it had really done:
The lament remembers Saul's skill in battle. He had truly killed his thousands, and his sword had not come back empty from his fighting — over Ammon, for example. So there is recognition of what he had done, joined with the bow of Jonathan.
David names Jonathan's bow before Saul's sword. The order carries weight:
In verse 22 David credits Jonathan first with success in battle, but he credits Saul too, in his measure. Real love always wants to give all the honest praise it can. Yet in this case David cannot praise as much in Saul as he would like to.
The man David praises had spent years trying to kill him. What David leaves unsaid matters:
A heart full of love has no room for resentment or complaints. If in the past David had wept at unjust accusations and hatred, he has now forgotten everything. There is no word of reproach against the man whose bones now lay under the tamarisk tree at Jabesh. But this noble heart is not content just to forget. He loves to remember. He recalls that Saul had been the Lord's anointed, the bearer of His testimony, that he had led His people to victory.
The lesson does not stop with Judah. It becomes practice for every Christian:
As for ourselves, fellow Christians, our bow will stay whole on one condition: we must put our confidence in God, who gives us His strength… Nothing is weaker than a Christian who has given up Christ as his strength… Let us learn the song of the bow by practising how to draw it, and by aiming the arrow at its mark. The more we use it, the stronger we will be against the enemy.
- Bow — strength. The bow stands for strength to defeat the enemy at a distance, before he can even attack.
- Bow lost — Saul falls. Saul's own archers had gone over to David, and archers cut him down; he had thought his own strength was enough.
- Bow held — Jonathan honoured. David names Jonathan's bow first, because love gives all the praise it can.
- Bow remembered — grudges buried. David recalls Saul's real victories and says nothing of the years of hatred. A heart full of love has no room for resentment.
- Bow drawn — our turn. Christ's bow stayed strong because He depended on God. Ours stays whole the same way — by trusting God and practising the draw.
Saul and Jonathan, beloved and pleasant in their lives, Even in their death were not divided; They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.
David sings this song over two men who died together: the king who had hunted him for years, and the king's son. In one line he binds them, praises them, and refuses to say the one thing everyone knew — that Saul had been his enemy.
(The quotes below use an older translation. It has "lovely and pleasant" where the ESV has "beloved and lovely.")
Saul had hunted David for years, and now Saul is dead. One writer measures our hearts against David's response:
David's lament over Saul shows a spirit whose absence in us may well humble us. It holds no hidden word of triumph over a fallen enemy. It shows no selfish satisfaction at being free from his persecution. David passes over it all: the years of cruel, unjust treatment he received from Saul, and his many personal wrongs.
David's grief was not staged. It came from a man who had lived in Saul's house:
David's heart truly melted when he heard of Saul's death. Whatever Saul's misfortunes, to David he was still the king of Israel. Whatever his faults, he was an unfortunate king. Saul had loved him, and David had lived in his house. And if Saul had unjustly persecuted David, at this moment it was readily forgotten. Now that he has fallen, David will only remember what can do him honour. Above all, he remembers that it is the Lord's anointed, and the Lord's people, who have fallen before their enemies.
Jonathan had refused his father's conduct, yet he never stopped being Saul's son. David reaches for what the two still shared:
Then a sweet word follows; sadly, it is all that could be said of what Jonathan and Saul had in common. They were lovely and pleasant in their lives — the link between father and son was not broken. Family affection remained, even when Jonathan had to refuse his father's conduct. And in their death they were not divided. For the moment David overlooks Jonathan's share in the defeat and singles out one point: he and his father fell together.
David could have named another division. The two men had taken opposite sides about him. He says nothing of it:
Genuine love always wants to give all the praise it honestly can. In this case, though, David cannot praise as much in Saul as he might wish to. Still, he speaks of these as "lovely and pleasant in their lives," and in their death as not divided. David does not mention that the two had been divided in their attitude toward him. He kept no selfish resentment over it. Their being "swifter than eagles and stronger than lions" of course refers to their skill and power in war.
The song praises Saul's natural gifts. One writer weighs what those gifts could not do:
David celebrates Saul in this touching song as "the beauty of Israel," for only natural qualities are in question. Think of his tall stature and physical strength. Think of the modesty he showed when he was little in his own eyes, his occasional warm and generous impulses, his special gifts for his office, his achievements in war and his generosity as a king. As we think of his end, all of it presses one thing on the mind: the most splendid advantages are powerless to undo the effects of the fall.
Grief can tip two ways: into flattery, or into settling scores. David's song does neither:
Personal advantage does not tempt David to overlook the crime of lifting up a hand against the Lord's anointed. Nor does the injury he suffered stop him. He still recognises all that was noble and good in the fallen king, and the way God had used him to bless His people. The deep feeling of the lament speaks to the heart, and it comes from the heart.
The song's tenderness points beyond David. One writer hears in it the heart of Christ:
Oh, how these words all carry the fragrance of the heart of Christ! Discipline had to shape David before such words could pour out. Christ's heart had no such need. His whole life was only love and grace. "I have called you friends," He says to those who were about to deny Him, or to run and leave Him alone. Let us follow the example of this perfect Model!
- Forget. David passes over years of unjust persecution, with no word of triumph over a fallen enemy.
- Remember. David recalls only what can do Saul honour — the king of Israel, the Lord's anointed, fallen before enemies.
- Honour. Their speed and strength were real. Love gives all the praise it honestly can, and says nothing about the division.
- Weigh. Only natural gifts could be praised in Saul. The finest gifts cannot undo the fall, and evil is still named evil.
- Imitate. Discipline trained David's heart. Christ's heart needed none, and He calls friends the men who were about to leave Him.
Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you in scarlet with splendour, Who put ornaments of gold upon your apparel.
David's song turns from the battlefield to the women of Israel, calling them to mourn the king who had dressed them in scarlet and gold. Saul had hunted David for years; the question the verse forces is why the man he wronged is the one urging the nation to cry over him.
The tone of the whole lament is the first thing to notice. David had every reason for relief, and none of it appears.
The lamentation of David over Saul reveals a spirit whose absence in us may well humble us. There is not one hidden word in it suggesting triumph over a fallen enemy, not an expression of selfish satisfaction at being delivered from his persecution. The cruelly unjust treatment he had received from Saul for years, his many personal wrongs, are all passed over.
Silence about old injuries would already be much. This verse goes further: David hunts for the good in Saul and says it out loud.
A heart full of love has no room for resentment or complaints. If in the past David had wept at unjust accusations and hatred, he has now forgotten everything. There is no word of reproach against the man whose bones now lay under the tamarisk at Jabesh. But it is not enough for this noble heart merely to forget. He loves to remember. He recalls that Saul had been the Lord's anointed, the bearer of His testimony, that he had led His people to victory. He recognizes the natural gifts that had made him pleasant during his life and had attracted Israel's love to him. He sees him magnificently dressing the daughters of his people.
The appeal is addressed to a group with a specific debt. Their finery came from his victories.
Then the sweet singer turns to the daughters of Israel who have suffered the loss of their king. They must not forget that it was he who protected them and made possible their festive garments and other delights, their gold and clothing. There is just a glimpse of all this, and then the dirge falls back again to its theme.
The word itself carries weight in Scripture. Commentators link it with Israel's public splendour.
Scarlet seems in some way to connect with Israel. It is mentioned in the pledge given to Rahab of her security when Israel would take the city. It describes national glory in the days of Saul, when the daughters of Israel were clothed in gold and scarlet.
Saul's gifts were genuine. Writers still weigh what lay underneath them, and one draws a sharp line between a comfortable nation and a godly one.
Saul was a gifted man, attractive to the flesh in many ways, yet never a man of faith, though in a position that called for continuous faith. His own soul had no link with God, and he succeeded in reducing Israel practically to the same state. By giving his followers fields and vineyards, rank and titles, and by clothing the daughters of Israel in scarlet with other delights, and putting ornaments of gold on their clothing, he kept up for them a fine outward appearance of prosperity, while he was leading them farther and farther from God.
Others weigh the same facts more kindly, allowing that his rule did real good:
David even calls on the daughters of Israel to weep over Saul, for his government clearly had some good effects in providing a decent standard of living for the nation.
Everything the verse praises belongs to the outside of a man. The lament lists his best qualities at the exact moment they have failed him.
His tall stature and physical strength, the modesty he showed when he was little in his own eyes, his occasional warm and generous impulses, his special gifts for his office, his achievements in war and his generosity as a king — all of these, as we think about how he ended, impress the mind with how useless even the most splendid advantages are to repair the effects of the fall.
One writer notes what the women did with the invitation — and the contrast with an earlier song of theirs.
At last, when Saul and Jonathan lay dead, who was there to weep for them but David himself? The daughters of Israel, who freely sang David's praises on the day of his victory, were urged by him to weep over Saul, but as far as we know this met no answering beat in their hearts and no tear in their eyes, so complete had the estrangement become.
- Wrongs — Years of unjust treatment are passed over; not one word in the song hints at triumph over a fallen enemy.
- Remembering — David does more than forget. He searches out Saul's good and names it: the Lord's anointed, a leader in victory, a giver of splendour.
- Scarlet — The clothing stands for Israel's national glory, and the debt is real; his rule gave the nation genuine protection and comfort.
- Hollowness — Commentators differ on the balance, but one warns that the fine outward appearance ran alongside a king whose own soul had no link with God.
- Ending — Stature, courage, generosity, gifts for office: all of it proved powerless to repair the effects of the fall, and the women he had clothed shed no tears.
How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan is slain upon thy high places.
Here the cry over fallen greatness sounds a second time, and David names Jonathan alone. Two questions press: why does David mourn the men who hunted him, and what does he mean by high places?
Saul had hunted David for years. Commentators point to what the song leaves out.
David's lament over Saul shows a spirit whose absence in us may well humble us. There is not a hidden word in it suggesting triumph over a fallen enemy. There is no expression of selfish satisfaction at being freed from his persecution. Saul treated him cruelly and unjustly for years, and he suffered many personal wrongs. David passes over all of it. David remembers only the brilliant natural gifts that might have adorned a throne. They had no power at all to shield Saul from the consequences of his headstrong will.
The song keeps coming back to one line, and that line raises a question.
The Song of the Bow has a piercing refrain: "How the mighty have fallen!" … What did they lack? The bow that had overcome Saul!
That missing bow points to something deeper than a shortage of archers.
Israel's mighty men with Saul at their head had met the bow of an enemy stronger than themselves. The error that led to their ruin was thinking their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us, but in Him whose strength never fails on our behalf.
"High places" is not an idle phrase. Jonathan had once climbed to a height alone against the enemy, and the same words now mark where he died.
But now the eye of love turns to his own dear friend, the one he loved as his own soul. Jonathan lay killed on his high places. Here he is a victim — the brave man who climbed those high places alone, to face the whole proud army of the Philistines.
Another writer sees the height as the position Jonathan chose, not the one he once stormed.
David felt this — that Jonathan had not taken the place of lowly rejection with David. He chose instead the short-lived place of exaltation with Saul, and he fell from it in a way he had not expected.
Earlier, Jonathan had told David that David would be king and that he himself would be next to him. Commentators look closely at the second half of that promise.
In those words the strength of Jonathan's devotion showed itself. In them he also betrayed its weakness. David first, but "I next." Why did he not stop once he had declared that the kingdom was David's? Why did he not stay silent about himself, and leave the choice of his place to his king? It was the coming in of the capital "I" — his thought for himself — that was Jonathan's undoing. … Sharing David's rejection would have meant a place of honour in David's kingdom instead of shame and death at the hands of the Philistines.
What David could not have from Jonathan in life, he still prized after his death.
Jonathan longed for the second place in the kingdom, but he fell on Mount Gilboa. David never forgot the covenant they had made… Had Jonathan gone forward with his desire and thrown in his lot with David, he would likely have been second in the kingdom. Instead of rejoicing over him, David had to lament over him. David did not have Jonathan's company in his rejection, but he did value Jonathan's affection. … We may be thankful that the Lord values our love to Him and the desires of our hearts toward Him. He does so even when we are not yet ready for the path of rejection He walked.
- Refrain — the cry over fallen greatness runs right through the song, and it raises a question. What was missing was the bow that had overcome Saul.
- Strength — their ruin came from treating their own strength as enough. Real strength comes only through dependence on God.
- Height — Jonathan died on the high ground he once climbed in courage. Commentators differ: do the "high places" mark that courage, or the exalted position he chose instead of rejection?
- Choice — the words "I next" let self into a whole-hearted devotion. The honour he might have had became a lament instead.
- Love — David still treasured the affection Jonathan gave him. The Lord values our love in the same way, even when we have not yet followed Him into the path of rejection.
I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan very pleasant wast thou unto me; Thy love to me was wonderful, passing women's love.
David's song has mourned a defeated army and a dead king; now it turns to one friend and speaks to him as though he could hear. What made Jonathan's love "extraordinary," and why did David compare it to the love of women?
Jonathan fell on the same heights he had once climbed alone against the Philistines.
But now the eye of love turns to his own dear friend, the one whom he loved as his own soul. Jonathan had been killed on his high places. He had bravely climbed the high places alone to face the whole proud army of the Philistines. Now he is a victim. As he thinks of him, David's heart pours out fresh sorrow.
One explanation is that Jonathan's love asked nothing back for itself.
Oh, how the tender heart of the son of Jesse valued the affection of his friend! His was a completely selfless affection. Affection between a man and a woman can only be that with difficulty. Jonathan had stripped himself of his dignities, his glory and the bow of his strength. He gave them to David on the day of his victory over Goliath. Then, with all the warmth of his convictions, he had pleaded his friend's cause.
Another explanation looks at the comparison itself, and at what it says about men and women. (The quote below uses an older wording; the ESV reads "surpassing the love of women.")
Jonathan's love to David was "wonderful, passing the love of women." Strength is the distinguishing mark of the man. Affection is that of the woman. Husbands, in the New Testament letters, are often urged to love their wives. The main charge to wives is not that, because love is more natural to the woman. She generally exceeds in love. Jonathan's love for David exceeded even that. Oh, for more eager devotion to our David!
Jonathan never left his father's court to share David's exile. One writer hears David hinting at this, gently, in the way he praises his friend.
Yet David could only hint, in the most delicate way, that Jonathan never gave up his position with his father for David's sake. Jonathan never followed him into exile, as Samuel and others did.
Another writer says it plainly, and draws a rule from it about giving.
He gave his possessions, but he kept back himself. Oh, think what he kept back! He gave all he had; he stripped himself. It is a wonderful appreciation, I fully admit it. It is beautiful in its own way. But he kept back a thousand times more than he gave. And be sure of this: that is how God measures every gift — not by what a person gives, but by what he keeps back.
David does not weigh the friendship and find it wanting. He calls it wonderful. That says something about how the Lord takes our love for Him.
Although David did not have Jonathan's company in his rejection, he certainly valued Jonathan's affection… We may be thankful that the Lord values our love to Him, and the desires of our hearts towards Him. He values them even if we are not fully ready for the path of rejection He Himself walked. Yet how much more He values the affection that is prepared, if need be, to suffer for Him, and at all times to suffer with Him.
The lament ends in loss. But David does not treat the love itself as lost.
Thank God, love remains, and this love of David to Jonathan does not have over it the cloud of hopeless sorrow that rests over his father. It is love that has lived through the ages. It has given us a model of human friendship: a love tenderer than that of lovers, sweeter than that of women, the love of two strong, manly hearts, made holy by a divine love. All true Christian friendship has in it a permanence that can never be lost, even when for a time it must weep. And above all, how good it is that He of whom David was a picture is not ashamed to own His beloved people as friends. How surpassing, how wonderful, how tender is His love! Thank God, we shall never be called to mourn the ending of that.
- Personal — The song mourns a nation's defeat, then narrows to one name. David's sharpest grief is for a friend.
- Selfless — Jonathan's love asked nothing back. He stripped off his own glory and handed it to David.
- Surpassing — Love comes more naturally to women, and women generally exceed in it. Jonathan's love went beyond even that.
- Incomplete — Jonathan gave his possessions but kept back himself. God measures a gift by what we hold back.
- Enduring — David praises the love anyway. The Lord too values love that falls short, and values more the love ready to suffer with Him. He calls His people friends, and that friendship we will never mourn.
How are the mighty fallen, and the instruments of war perished!
David's song over Saul and Jonathan ends where it began: the mighty have fallen. This last cry adds one more loss — the weapons of war have perished — and asks why Israel's strength failed.
This cry is not new. It has sounded twice already. Commentators say the repeated line points to one thing: a missing weapon.
This Song of the Bow has a moving refrain: "How the mighty have fallen!" (v. 19). "How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle!" (v. 25). "How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!" (v. 27). What did they lack? The bow which had overcome Saul!
The last phrase is a verdict, not just a loss. Writers read it on Saul's greatness and his power to conquer, and on man himself.
He finishes his lament with painful words: "How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!" These words express the sad end of the best that man in the flesh can offer. His greatness comes to nothing. His power to conquer is completely destroyed. Only Christ will remain: He alone will have the honour of subduing all things under Him.
Saul had hunted David. The striking thing about this lament is what it leaves out.
The lamentation of David is a wonderful outpouring of soul. First he speaks of the disaster that came to Israel through the death of Saul and Jonathan (verses 19-22). Then he praises the virtues of both. What grace this shows if we consider that Saul had hunted David and put so many afflictions on him! He does not refer to it in a single word. Beautiful beyond description are his loving words about Jonathan.
David did not stop at grief. He gave one practical order: teach the people the bow.
David is in no way discouraged, for his faith is in action. This disaster grieves him, but it also gives him a chance to guard against another like it. He told them to teach the people of Judah how to use the bow, the weapon that killed Saul. David, still humble, goes on well.
The lesson goes deeper than archery. Rossier traces the defeat back to what Israel's mighty men assumed about themselves. Against them he sets the one Man whose strength never failed.
Israel's mighty men with Saul at their head had met the bow of an enemy stronger than they. The mistake that led to their ruin was thinking their own strength was enough. But there is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us. It is found in Him whose strength never fails on our behalf. The Man Jesus Christ is the example of this. He looked for strength only in God; otherwise He would not have been the Perfect Man. Struck by the archers (Gen. 49:23-24), His strength did not leave Him. When His weakness seemed to give way to the enemy's power His bow remained strong — His strength was full.
Commentators connect this sorrow to a wish Jonathan never acted on. He wanted second place in David's kingdom, but he never joined David.
If Jonathan had gone forward with his desire and thrown in his lot with David, he probably would have been second in the kingdom. Instead of David rejoicing over him, he had to lament over him. David did not have Jonathan's company in his rejection, but he certainly valued Jonathan's affection... We may be thankful that the Lord values our love to Him and the desires of our hearts towards Him. He values them even if we are not fully ready for the path of rejection He has walked.
One writer turns the lament back on David himself — the man who later murdered to hide his own sin.
David, man after God's heart! Oh, how many of the Lord's enemies you have made to blaspheme! how many of the Lord's people you have made to mourn for you!... What! Murder a man in the middle of faithful, eager service to you, so that you could hide your own adultery? Was this the man who fled from his enemy, and who, when God's providence put that enemy in his power, cut off only the edge of his robe — and then his heart struck him for it? Ah! sadder than your heart could be for Saul, we take up your own lament over you: "How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!"
- Refrain. Three times the song cries that the mighty have fallen. The last cry adds the perished weapons and asks what Israel lacked.
- Lack. What Israel lacked was the bow, the weapon that killed Saul. David ordered it taught, so grief turned into instruction.
- Cause. Israel fell because they thought their own strength was enough. Real strength comes only through dependence. Christ shows it: struck by the archers, His bow stayed strong.
- Verdict. The perished weapons are the verdict on the best that man in the flesh can offer: greatness brought to nothing, power to conquer destroyed.
- Remains. Only Christ remains, and He alone will have the honour of subduing all things. Even David, who sang this lament, would one day have it sung over him.