What was the relationship between David and Jonathan?

Up to this point Jonathan had the character of a young man, strong in faith, who had fought with the enemy; now he goes further: his soul is bound up with David's soul when he hears him speak. He appreciates the moral beauty with which his words are impressed more than his own outward advantages; he finds in David a soul to whom his own soul answers; suddenly a special bond of love and fellowship develops between them, produced by the charm of David's words.

We next see Jonathan captivated. "And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul" (ver. 1). David's work satisfies him, and David's worth captivates him. It is a blessed thing to know Christ's work; for it prepares our hearts to learn His worth. By His work our souls are saved; by His worth our hearts are won. Every Christian loves Christ in some measure. Scripture says, "If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema," etc.; i.e., accursed (1 Cor. 16:22), We cannot but love Him if we know His dying love to us. A child once helped to deepen that truth in my soul. It was in Chicago. I asked her if she loved Jesus. "Oh, yes," she answered quickly. "Why do you love Him?" I asked. "Oh," she replied, with sweet childish transparency, "because He died for me." But Jonathan's love to David was no common love. He loved him as his own soul. David himself speaks of that love in his touching lament for Jonathan. "Thy love to me was wonderful," he says, "passing the love of women" (2 Sam. 1:26). David, in Jonathan's eyes, eclipsed all others. To him there was not another like him in all the earth. And his love to David leads to action. "And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle" (ver. 4). He strips himself of everything. He lays all at David's feet. Everything that might distinguish him as a warrior or as a man among men, he gives to David, as if he alone were worthy of such arms and garments. This action becomes more lovely in our eyes as we remember that Jonathan was a distinguished prince. He had also proved himself a mighty warrior. In the fourteenth chapter of this book he and his armor-bearer display uncommon bravery. As a result, the Philistines are routed, and Saul's armies are victorious. He seems to have been a special favorite with the people, too. In defiance of the headstrong king, they rescued him from death. "And the people said unto Saul, Shall Jonathan die, who hath wrought so great salvation in Israel? God forbid: as the Lord liveth, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground; for he hath wrought with God this day. So the people rescued Jonathan that he died not" (1 Sam. 14:45). But, though so great a man, he seems to say of David, as John the Baptist said of Christ, "He must increase, but I must decrease."

1 Samuel 18. "And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking to Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father's house." This gave opportunity for Jonathan to know more of him; and very soon indeed the Spirit of God records an act which marks precisely both what was so lovely in Jonathan, and what was so suitable to David. "Then Jonathan and David," it is said, "made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle." This then was the corresponding fruit of the divine Spirit in Jonathan. Those are greatly mistaken who suppose that it was merely a question of personal affection. This there was; but Jonathan was a man of faith, and there is no affection for character, power, or permanence such as that which has faith for its animating principle.

The challenge of the giant had, as it was each day repeated, developed the poverty of Israel. The eye might have ranged up and down the ranks in search of one able to meet the urgent need, but in vain. As the giant's vaunting words fell on their ears, all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him, and were sore afraid." "All," yes; all fled, when they heard his words, and saw his size. Terrible was the blank, therefore, left in the heart on this solemn occasion; and when a beloved one appeared to fill up that blank, what wonder that Jonathan's whole soul was drawn out in genuine affection for that one. And be it remembered, that it was David himself, and not his work only, that touched Jonathan's heart. He admired his victory surely, but his person more. It is well to note this, and trace its striking application to the true David.

Here Jonathan's faith fully rises to the height of David's in 1 Sam. 17, and this explains how they got knit together immediately after they knew each other. Like faith, like confidence, in the living God caused free love, mutual love, to flow out of their hearts. This is very fine. So treacherous are our hearts that faith alone might have gendered pride and perhaps jealousy, but faith and love mixed together formed a strong and blessed link. How great the love and how strong and blessed the link we see in 1 Sam. 18 to 23. "And it came to pass that when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." It was net a mere matter of sentiment or an impulsive movement of the natural heart: it was a bond in the Lord. At once a covenant intervenes to strengthen the bond, and thereupon Jonathan strips himself of his robe "and gave it to David and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle." Armed with Saul's armour, David says, "I cannot go with these"; but clad with Jonathan's he could go, for they were those of a kindred soul. Vesture and weapons, Jonathan gives all to David, and this is no common manner of love, for it was putting a humble shepherd on a footing of equality with a king's son.

Verse 2 shows that Saul was evidently glad to employ David regularly as his servant after he had served him so well. But Jonathan did not think of David as a servant. Because he loved him as his own soul he made a most striking covenant with him. Nothing is said of David's side of the covenant, but Jonathan stripped himself of his robe and gave it to David. More than this, he gave him his garments, his sword, his bow and even his belt. This was a plain declaration that he was there and then turning over all his potential kingly rights to David. Rather than succeeding his father, he would gladly relinquish his rights to the throne to David. If Saul had only been wise enough to do this, how much less tragic would his history have been!

Saul believes he has rights over David; he “would not let him return to his father's house” (v. 2), whereas Jonathan who has the intelligence of faith makes a covenant with David (v. 3), seeks his protection, and recognizes that there is no security except with him. Faith is the basis of Jonathan's love; he shows this clearly by saluting David as the true king.

The meaning of the opening verses of 1 Sam. 18 is simply this: that Jonathan looked at David with the marks of victory upon him, the head of the Philistine in his hand, and he said, as it were, "There is my saviour;" and in that first hour of freedom, through that wonderful conquest, "the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and he loved him as his own soul." (1 Sam. 18:1.) The sense of the service was so paramount in his heart (he had such a distinct realization in his heart of the wonderful favour that was rendered to Israel, of the emancipation that was wrought) that his whole heart was knit to the heart of David, and not only that, but he strips himself — he takes what distinguishes him as a warrior, and he puts it upon David. There is nothing too much to give to David. Yet, mark this, he did not give himself. He gave his possessions, but he kept back himself. Oh, think what he kept back! He gave all he had; he denuded himself, he stripped himself. It is a wonderful appreciation, I quite admit it. It is beautiful after its order; but what was kept back was a thousand times more than what was given; and be assured this is the way that God measures everything that is given, not by what is given, but by what is kept back. Herein is the divine measure of it.

His anguish over Jonathan is unbounded. Oh! how the tender heart of the son of Jesse valued the affection of his friend! “I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant wast thou unto me; thy love to me was wonderful, passing women's love” (v. 26); his was a completely selfless affection, something that affection for one of the opposite sex can only with difficulty be. Jonathan had indeed stripped himself of his dignities and glory and the bow of his strength to give them to David in the day of his victory over Goliath. Then with all the warmth of his convictions he had pleaded the cause of his friend. Lastly, his admiration for the son of Jesse had not diminished during David's time of shame and exile — he had visited him then, although it is true he had lacked the courage to follow him. David says nothing about this last point. He covers the memory of his friend with inexpressible tenderness. He does not speak of his own love for him, but gives proof of it by exalting Jonathan's love.

But now, the eye of love turns to his own dear friend, the one whom he loved as his own soul. Jonathan had been slain in his high places. The one who had so valiantly climbed up into the high places, single-handed, to meet the whole proud host of the Philistines, is here a victim. As he thinks of him, David's heart gushes out with fresh sorrow. What exquisite beauty in these words: "I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me; thy love to me was wonderful."

Thank God, love remains, and this love of David to Jonathan has not upon it the cloud of hopeless sorrow which rests over his father. It is that which has lived throughout the ages, which has furnished a model of human friendship stronger than that of Damon and Pythias, a love tenderer than that of lovers, sweeter than that of women, the love of two strong, manly hearts, sanctified by a divine love; and to think that all true Christian friendship, even though for the time it be called to weep, has in it a perpetuity which can never be lost; and above all, how good it is that He of whom David was type 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 over the cessation of that!