Womanhood During the Reign of the Kings.
ABIGAIL--CHURLISH NABAL--CHIVALROUS APPRECIATION--DAVID’S
MESSENGERS--SAUL’S DAUGHTERS--HIS TREACHERY--MICHAL’S
STRATAGEM--RIZPAH--HER HEROIC ENDURANCE AND LOVING FIDELITY--THE
QUEEN OF SHEBA--HER VISIT TO JERUSALEM--THE GLORY AND WISDOM OF
SOLOMON--THE HALF NOT TOLD--THE QUEEN’S ROYAL GIFTS.
Passing out from under the Theocracy, or rule of the Judges, the first
woman in White Raiment that appears on the page of the Sacred Record
is Abigail. She was the wife of Nabal, a wealthy owner of goats and
sheep in Carmel, not the Mount Carmel of Central Palestine, between
the maritime plain of Sharon on the south, and the great inland
expanse known as the plain of Esdraelon on the north, but a town in
the mountainous country of Judah, to the west of the lower end of the
Dead Sea. She was a woman of good understanding and of a beautiful
countenance--a fit combination.
Her character had written its legend on her face. The two things do not
always go together. There are many beautiful women wholly destitute
of good understanding, just as birds of rarest plumage are commonly
deficient in the power of song. But a good understanding, which is
moral rather than intellectual, casts a glow of beauty over the
plainest features.
But Abigail’s husband was a churl. The great establishment over which
she presided would be called, in our modern times, a sheep ranch, and,
under the management of such a man as Nabal, the servants doubtless
often echoed the ill-temper of their master, and her wits would be
often sharpened to the utmost to keep all within the limits of safety
and comfort.
Evidently, at her birth, Abigail had been a welcomed child in a happy
home, amid plenty and even luxury, such as the times in that rude age
of the world could give. Her parents named her “Source of joy.” She
had grown up in a glad, breezy confidence that made her equal to any
emergency. Since God has floods of glory for the gloomiest souls, why
will not parents keep their children in the clear, warm sunshine of
joyful love? Many drudge early and late to provide culture and comfort;
but they withhold a better, richer gift. They becloud hopelessly the
dear young lives with their own disappointments, and foredoom them to
despondency.
This sprightly, happy, beautiful Abigail at length married the selfish,
churlish Nabal. When we look over society to-day, it is remarkable how
many Abigails get married to Nabals. God-fearing women, tender and
gentle in their sensibilities, high-minded and noble in their ideals,
become tied in an indissoluble union with men for whom they can have no
true affinity, even if they have not an unconquerable repugnance. In
Abigail’s case this relationship was, in all probability, not of her
choosing, but the product of the Oriental custom which compelled a girl
to take her father’s choice in the matter of marriage. As a mere child
she may have come into Nabal’s home, and become bound to him by an
apparently inevitable fate. In other ways which involve equally little
personal choice, compelled by the pressure of inexorable circumstances,
misled by the deceitful tongue of flattery, her instinctive hesitancy
overcome by the urgency of friends, a woman may still find herself in
Abigail’s pitiful plight. To such a one there is but one advice--you
must stay where you are. The dissimilarity in taste and temperament
does not constitute a sufficient reason for leaving your husband to
drift. You must believe that God has permitted you to enter on this
awful heritage, partly because this fiery ordeal was required by your
character, and partly that you might act as a counteractive influence.
It may be that some day your opportunity will come, as it came to
Abigail. In the meantime do not allow your purer nature to be bespotted
or besmeared. You can always keep the soul clean and pure. Bide your
time; and, amid the weltering waste of inky water, be like a pure
fountain rising from the ocean depths.
But if any young girl of good sense and earnest aspirations, who reads
these lines, secretly knows that, if she had the chance, she would wed
a carriage and pair, a good position, or broad acres, irrespective of
character, let her remember that to enter the marriage bond with a man,
deliberately and advisedly, for such a purpose, is a profanation of the
Divine ideal, and can end only in one way. She will not raise him to
her level, but she will sink to his.
There came a time when Nabal had an opportunity to show kindness, to
pay back, in part at least, his appreciation for the protection David
and his men had given Nabal’s shepherds from Bedouin and other desert
robbers. It was sheep-shearing time, a season of gladness and of
feasting. David and his men were shut up in the wilderness of Engedi,
driven thither by the persecutions of Saul. Doubtless they were in need
of food, and David thought that the owner of three thousand sheep, and
a thousand goats, in the very midst of the sheep-shearing festivities,
could send him a token of remembrance in his hunger and need. So David
sent ten of his young men with salutations of peace and prosperity, and
a request for any favor he felt disposed to give. But Nabal answered
the young men saying, “Who is David? and who is the son of Jesse? there
be many servants nowadays that break away every man from his master.
Shall I then take my bread, and my water, and my flesh that I have
killed for my shearers, and give it unto men, whom I know not whence
they be?”
The young men returned to David with the message of Nabal, and,
naturally enough, David felt insulted and outraged. Taking a band of
four hundred men, he resolved to impress upon Nabal who the “son of
Jesse” was, and to make him pay dearly for his foolhardy conduct.
But, in the meantime, one of Nabal’s servants told Abigail how David’s
young men had been treated. Evidently this thoughtful and prudent
servant knew the excellency of his mistress, and could trust her to
act wisely in the emergency which was upon them. So he told her all.
Told how David and his men had been “a wall” unto the shepherds “both
by night and by day,” and for all this kindness Nabal, his master, had
“railed” upon David’s messengers.
[Illustration: THE BEAUTIFUL ABIGAIL MEETING DAVID.]
Abigail immediately grasped the situation and at once despatched a
small procession of provision-bearers along the way David would come.
In this she did not even take Nabal into her counsel, and she prepared
to pay bountifully for the conduct of her foolhardy husband.
The band had scarcely started when she followed after, and, as she
expected, met the avenging warriors by the covert of the mountain, and
the interview was as creditable to her woman’s wit as to her grace
of heart. The lowly obeisance of the beautiful woman at the young
soldier’s feet; the frank confession of the wrong that had been done;
the expression of thankfulness that so far he had been kept from
blood-guiltiness and from avenging his own wrongs; the depreciation
of the generous present she brought as only fit for his servants; the
chivalrous appreciation of his desire to fight only the battles of
the Lord and to keep an unblemished name; the sure anticipation of
the time when his fortunes would be secured and his enemies silenced;
the suggestion that in those coming days he would be glad to have no
shadow on the sunlit hills of his life, no haunting memory--all this
was as beautiful and wise and womanly as it could be, and brought David
back to his better self. Frank and noble as he always was, he did not
hesitate to acknowledge his deep indebtedness to this lovely woman, and
to see in her intercession the gracious arrest of God. “And David said
to Abigail, Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, which sent thee
this day to meet me; and blessed be thy wisdom, and blessed be thou,
which has kept me this day from blood-guiltiness, and from avenging
myself with my own hand.”
What a revelation this is of the ministries with which God seeks
to avert us from our evil ways! They are sometimes very subtle and
slender, very small and still; sometimes a gentle woman’s hand laid on
our wrist, the mother reminding us of her maternity, the wife of early
vows, the child with its pitiful, beseeching look; sometimes a thought,
holy, pleading, remonstrating. Ah, many a time we have been saved from
actions which would have caused lasting regret. And above all these
voices and influences there has been the gracious arresting influence
of the Holy Spirit, striving with passion and selfishness, calling
us to a nobler, better life. Blessed Spirit, come down more often by
the covert of the hill, and stay us in our mad career, and let us not
press past thee to take our own wild way, and we shall have reason for
ceaseless gratitude.
Only ten days after Abigail’s womanly intercession Nabal died by the
judgments of God.
When David heard of Nabal’s death, he was very grateful indeed that
he had been restrained by the prudent words of Abigail, and sent
messengers to her at Carmel, asking her hand in marriage. And this is
the touching reply she sent back to David, “Behold, let thine handmaid
be a servant to wash the feet of the servants of my lord.”
“And Abigail hasted, and arose, and rode upon an ass, with five damsels
of hers that went after her; and she went after the messengers of
David, and became his wife.” After her marriage, she accompanied David
in all his fortunes; and no doubt her shrewd business sense was of
great service to her husband. The words she told David while he was
sinking under discouragement from Nabal’s ingratitude, that he would be
“bound in the bundle of life with the Lord his God,” became prophetic
of her own after life. She proved that--
“They who get the best are those
Who leave the choice to Him.”
We next come to Michal. As Abigail had saved the life of Nabal, so
Michal had saved the life of David. She was the younger of the two
daughters of Saul, the first king in Israel. David had been very
successful in the slaughter of the Philistines, and on his return
the women came out singing songs of welcome, in which they chanted,
“Saul hath slain thousands, and David ten thousands.” Saul was highly
displeased with this popular welcome to David and said, “What can he
have more but the kingdom?”
But, with a view of exposing the life of David, Saul promised his elder
daughter, Merab, in marriage, if he would fight his battles. However,
in this Saul had missed his calculations, for the Philistines were not
able to take the life of David. So, no doubt, in order that he might
have one more opportunity of exposing David to the dangers of war,
he gave Merab to Adriel, the Mehoathite, to wife. It was a treachery
such as Saul frequently practiced upon David. So he offered Michal,
the second daughter, in marriage, fixing the price for her hand at no
less than the slaughter of a hundred Philistines. David, by a brilliant
feat, doubled the tale of his victims, and Michal became his wife.
Michal was not averse to the good luck of David, for she had so
appreciated him that she had fallen violently in love with the young
hero. It was not long, however, before the strength of her affections
was put to the proof. After one of Saul’s attacks of frenzy, in which
David had barely escaped being transfixed by the king’s spear, Michal
learned that the house was being watched by Saul’s soldiers, and that
it was intended on the next morning to attack her husband as he left
his door. Michal seemed to have known too well the vacillating and
ferocious disposition of her father when in these demoniacal moods, so,
like a true soldier’s wife, she met stratagem by stratagem. She first
provided for David’s safety by lowering him out of the window by means
of a rope. To gain time for him to reach the residence of Samuel at
Ramah, she dressed up the bed as if still occupied by him, by placing
a teraphim in it, its head enveloped, like that of a sleeper, in the
usual net used for protection from gnats--a sore pest in Palestine.
It happened as Michal feared. Her father sent officers to take David.
Michal made answer that her husband was ill and could not be disturbed.
At last Saul would not be longer put off, and ordered his messengers
to force their way into David’s apartment, when they discovered the
deception which had been played so successfully, Saul’s rage knew no
bounds, and his fury was such that Michal was obliged to resort to
another deception by pretending that David attempted to kill her.
When Michal let David down by a rope through a window on that memorable
night in which she saved his life, it was the last time she saw her
husband for many years. When the rupture between Saul and David became
open, Saul gave Michal in marriage to Phaltiel, of Gallim, a village
not far from the royal residence at Gibeah.
After the death of Saul, Michal and her new husband moved with the
royal family to the east of Jordan.
It was at least fourteen years since she had watched David’s
disappearance down the rope into the darkness of the night and had
imperilled her own life to save his. During all these years, it would
seem, his love for his absent wife had undergone no change, for he
was eager to reclaim her when the first opportunity presented itself.
That opportunity came when Abner revolted from Ishbosheth. Important
as it was to him to make an alliance with the court of Ishbosheth,
established at Mahanaim, and much as he respected Abner, he would
not listen for a moment to any overtures till his wife was restored.
And David sent messengers to Ishbosheth saying, “Deliver me my wife
Michal.” There seemed to be no alternative, and Michal was taken from
Phaltiel. That she had equally won the love of Phaltiel is manifest
from the sad scene when she was taken from him, and now under the joint
escort of David’s messengers and Abner’s twenty men, _en route_ from
Mahanaim to Hebron, he followed behind, bewailing the wife thus torn
from him, and would not turn back until commanded to do so by Abner.
But when Michal was received into the royal home, then at Hebron, she
was not the affectionate companion of David’s youth. And, doubtless,
he was no longer to her what he was before she had bestowed her love
upon another. They were no longer what they had been to each other.
The alienation was probably mutual. On her side must have been the
recollection of the long contest which had taken place in the interval
between her father and David; the strong feeling in the palace at
Hebron against the house of Saul, where every word she heard must
have contained some distasteful allusion, and where at every turn
she must have encountered men like Abiather the priest, or Ismaiah
the Gibeonite, who had lost the whole or the greater part of their
relatives in some sudden burst of her father’s fury. And more than
all, perhaps, the inevitable difference between the husband of her
recollections and the matured and occupied warrior who now received
her. The whole must have come upon her as a strong contrast to the
affectionate Phaltiel, whose tears had followed her along the road over
Olivet until commanded to return home.
It also seems she did not enter into David’s religious sympathies.
When he brought the Ark of Jehovah into Jerusalem, after the seat of
government was transferred from Hebron to that city, Michal watched
the procession approach from the window of the royal palace, and when
she saw David in the triumphal march, “she despised him in her heart.”
It would have been well if her contempt had rested there; but it was
not in her nature to conceal it, and when the last burnt offering had
been made, and the king entered his house to bless his family, he was
received by his wife not with the congratulations which he had a right
to expect and which would have been so grateful to him, but with a
bitter taunt which showed how incapable she was of appreciating either
her husband’s devotions, or the importance of the service in which he
had been engaged. David’s answer showed that they were as wide apart
religiously as he and her father had been politically. He said, “It was
before the Lord, which chose me before thy father, and before all his
house, to appoint me ruler over the people.” This reproof gathered up
all the differences between them which made sympathy no longer possible.
We must think of Michal what she was to David in her youth, and what
she might have been had she not been given to another, perhaps against
her own will. Thus David lost her womanly affection, which he so much
needed, and Michal lost his brave, heroic but devout spirit, which
would greatly have helped her to a correct knowledge of God, for, from
the fact that she had a teraphim in her house, would indicate she was
not wholly free from idolatry, and this doubtless accounts for her
lack of sympathy with David in his religious nature, for his devotions
to God were unquestioned. Her surroundings from childhood were bad
every way, and her want of religious sympathy was not so much the want
of faith as the lack of opportunity to know God. We give her a place
here for what she was in her youth, in saving the life of David, and
what she would have been could she have grown up under the religious
influences of David.
Upon the death of Saul, the first king in Israel, Rizpah, a secondary
wife, and mother of his two sons Armoni and Mephibosheth, appears on
the stage of action. After Saul was defeated and met with death on
Mount Gilboa and the Philistines occupied the country west of the
Jordan, the seat of government was transferred from Gibeah to Mahanaim
for greater protection, and Rizpah accompanied the inmates of the royal
household to their new residence.
Ishbosheth, the youngest of Saul’s four legitimate sons, and his
rightful heir to the throne, had been proclaimed king in place of his
father. Abner, Saul’s uncle, however, had command of the army, and had
much to do in administering the affairs of the kingdom; and, because
of this relation, and for reasons not stated, he seemed to have had
frequent consultations with Rizpah, and this excited Ishbosheth’s
jealousy. Among those primitive people, to take the widow of a deceased
king was to aspire to the throne. Ishbosheth accused Abner of that
ambitious design, and the captain, in his resentment, replied, “Am I
a dog’s head, which against Judah do shew kindness this day unto the
house of Saul thy father, to his brethren, and to his friends, and
have not delivered thee into the hands of David, that thou chargest me
to-day with a fault concerning this woman?” Abner was so wroth that
he left Ishbosheth and went over to David--a piece of spite which led
first to Abner’s death through Joab’s treachery, and ultimately to the
murder of Ishbosheth himself.
We hear nothing more of Rizpah till the three years’ famine made it
necessary to settle an old score against the house of Saul for that
king’s wicked dealings with the Gibeonites. According to the crude,
rough justice of the times, they demanded the death of seven of Saul’s
descendants. The two sons of Rizpah and five of Saul’s grandsons were
handed over to them for crucifixion.
Here Rizpah’s love, and endurance is brought to our notice. The seven
crosses to which her two sons and her five relatives were fastened,
were planted in the rock on the top of the sacred hill of Gibeah. The
victims were sacrificed at the beginning of barley harvest--the sacred
and festal time of the Passover--and in the full blaze of the summer
sun they hung till the fall of the periodical rain in October. During
the whole of that time Rizpah remained at the foot of the crosses on
which the bodies of her sons were exposed. She had no tent to shelter
her all those months from the scorching sun which beats on that open
spot all day, or from the drenching dews of night, but she spread on
the rock summit the thick mourning garment of black sackcloth, which,
as a widow, she wore, and, crouching there, she kept off bird and beast
till their bodies could have honorable burial.
At length the heroic actions of Rizpah were brought to the notice of
David, who, with his usual kindness, had the bodies of Saul and his
friend Jonathan brought from Jabesh-Gilead, and the bodies taken from
the crosses and sepulchred in the family tomb of Kish.
Rizpah, by birth was a Hivite, and probably had not the sustaining
grace which God alone can give. She had trained her sons for the
splendors of a court. They were cut off in their prime, and her
desolate heart had only its pride to sustain her during her superhuman
anguish and endurance. Her loving, passionate nature was a bright light
in a rude, dark age. With such a beautiful example before us, we need
never say the circumstances of our life forbid the possibilities of
living for God. The blacker the cloud the brighter may be the rainbow.
The harder our situation the more can our life become a protest against
it. The lighthouse needs the midnight darkness and the storm-beaten
shore to bring out its value and its purpose, and there is no situation
so trying and difficult but God can sustain us in it, and when we have
learned our lesson enable us to triumph over it.
Rizpah’s loving fidelity has placed her in the front ranks of Bible
women whose holy ministries have made them famous. She may very justly
be characterized as the _Mater Dolorosa_ of the old dispensation. Her
fidelity to the memory of departed loved ones has no equal in the
history of the world. And all this without the sustaining grace of
God, for it must be remembered poor Rizpah was but a heathen woman, in
a rude, dark age of the world. How glad we should be, that in a world
where there is so much to sadden and depress, we have a Saviour to go
to who knows all about our sorrow, and is touched with the feeling of
our infirmities, and have blessed communion with Him in whom is the one
true source and fountain of all true gladness and abiding joy! In a
world where so much is ever seeking to unhallow our spirits, to render
them common, how high the privilege of entering into the secret of His
pavilion, and there, by consecration and prayer, receive strength for
days to come. Such was not Rizpah’s privilege, hence her devotion is
all the more remarkable.
The history runs on. David had established his throne, and the visit of
the Queen of Sheba marks the climax of the greatness of that kingdom,
and the glory and wisdom of Solomon. It is a remarkable proof of the
new spirit that had come upon the nation. Hitherto the people of Israel
had been wholly agricultural. The great peculiarity of their country
was its isolation, situated in the very midst of the nations of the
earth, yet it was curiously shut in and shut out. A seaboard without
a single navigable river, with a vast desert on the south, a lofty
mountain range on the north, and that strange descent of the Jordan
valley in the east going down more than a thousand feet below the
level of the sea. But Solomon changed all that. His enterprise did
not exhaust itself in building the Temple and palace of Jerusalem. He
actually crossed the great desert to the south and at the head of the
gulf that runs up to the east of the Arabian peninsula he made a harbor
and himself superintended the building of a fleet of ships, and sent
them to traffic in the east, and brought home the sandalwood and many
of the treasures of the Indies, with which he enriched the palace and
the garden.
[Illustration: SOLOMON’S MERCHANT SHIPS.]
Thus his merchants went away to strange lands, carrying with them
wherever they went the tidings of their great king, of the Temple that
he had built to Jehovah, the God of Israel; of the palace splendors; of
his throne of state in the cedar Judgment Hall, a throne of ivory with
golden lions on each step, and a footstool of gold.
Now of the countries that they visited one was famous for its gold
and frankincense and precious stones. It was the land of Sheba to the
south. Thither came the captains and crews of Solomon’s ships, and the
queen heard of the strangers who had come to trade with them in their
vessels from afar, men of a strange language. She sent for them to the
court to hear from their own lips the wonderful things they had to tell
of their great king, and of their God, and of Jerusalem.
The mere pageantry of the visit to Jerusalem has hidden from us the
true queenliness and spirit of this woman. It was no idle curiosity
that prompted a journey involving so much risk and difficulty. Her very
throne itself was imperilled by her departure and long absence. It
is a proof of how firmly she was set in the affections of her people
that she could venture to leave the land; a proof of her courage that
she should dare set out on such a journey. Hearing of the wisdom of
Solomon, hearing of the great things he had done for his people,
hearing above all that he had brought such prosperity to the land that
every man could sit safely under his own vine and fig-tree, she formed
her purpose to go. If she could learn to do so much for her own people
it were worth everything.
When the merchants had gone we can see her turn to her statesmen, every
inch a queen, and full already of her lofty purpose, address them
thus, “If I could but secure such well-being for this nation of mine,
I should count it cheaply earned if I went to the ends of the earth to
get it.”
It is also worthy of observation that this queen of the south was not
content with hearing about Solomon. She did not listen to the tale
these merchants told, and straightway forgot it all, as if it were of
no further concern. She made up her mind, there and then, that if such
a one lived she would go to him and ask such questions as he, and only
he, could answer, that would give her peace and be a blessing to her
people.
So important was this matter that she did not send an ambassador to the
king. To her they were so real and sacred she must go herself, and go
she did.
Oh, the misery of it is that such hosts among us are content with
hearing about these blessings of God. Alas, there are thousands of
people who think all this is only to be preached about, never to be
sought after; only to be heard about, never really found.
She had a long way to go. We read, she came from the uttermost parts of
the earth. Distances were immense in those days. It was a journey for
camels, by no means a comfortable method of traveling. Soldiers must
guard her, for there were many robbers; servants must go to wait upon
her, for her state must be in keeping with the greatness of the foreign
court. She must take with her a load of the most splendid gifts. Then
there were long stretches of hot, wind-swept deserts to be crossed, in
which many had perished in the sand storms. But she was not daunted,
she was not to be turned aside. She had made up her mind, and bravely
faced all the dangers.
And then, also, we must not overlook the fact she had no invitation.
She did not know how he might receive her. These great kings were
jealous of strangers. Upon some pretence that she came to spy out the
land, he might have her seized as a prisoner, and held her and her
servants to be ransomed at some enormous cost of money. Such things
were common enough; and, if he received her, was it not likely that
he would look with contempt upon her? Even civilized people like the
Greeks were accustomed to regard those as barbarians whose language and
ways were foreign to themselves. But this brave woman will risk it all,
and with a splendid courage, the courage of a woman, she comes.
So the Queen of Sheba came to see King Solomon, and the scene of her
coming was one of the utmost splendor. It was a tribute indeed to the
far-reaching fame of Israel, which king and people alike may well have
sought to turn to the fullest account.
[Illustration: THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.]
At the city gate Solomon came forth to meet the queen in all his
glory, with flashing crown of pure gold, and royal robes of costliest
magnificence. About him are the great officers of state in their
gorgeous apparel, the old wise counselors, the chief captains of his
army. Everywhere are the vast crowds of citizens, thronging every
house roof and city wall, and clustering on every point of vantage.
The music of his singing men and singing women fills the air with glad
welcome.
And now, seated at his side, in the chariot of cedar with its
tapestried curtains, and drawn by the horses of Egypt all richly
caparisoned, they go on their way. Solomon points out to her the Temple
which he was seven years in building, and which Josephus likened to
a “mountain of snow, covered with plates of gold, whose brightness
made those that looked upon it turn away their eyes.” He told her
there were used “talents” of gold, of silver, and of brass in its
construction valued at the enormous sum of $34,399,110,000. The worth
of the jewels placed at figures equally as high. The vessels of gold,
according to Josephus, were valued at 140,000 talents, which reduced to
money, was equal to $2,821,481,015. The vessels of silver were still
more valuable, being set down at $3,231,720,000. Priests’ vestments,
and robes of singers, at $10,050,000. He told her ten thousand men
hewed cedars, seventy thousand bore burdens, and eighty thousand hewed
stones, and it required three thousand three hundred overseers. Surely
it was the wonder of the world. Then he pointed out to her the Judgment
Hall, the house of the forest of Lebanon, and many other stately
edifices.
And now they reach the palace, with its luxurious gardens filled with
treasures from all lands. And, seated at the great banquet which the
king had spread in her honor, she sees his wealth, the vastness of his
possessions, the hosts of his servants, the cupbearers at his side,
the banqueting hall, itself a marvel of splendor, the “ascent by which
he went up unto the house of the Lord.” As she saw all this, we read,
“there was no more spirit in her.” She was overwhelmed by the sight of
such boundless wealth and the vision of such glory.
The Queen of the South communed with Solomon, we are told, of all that
was in her heart. Simply and earnestly she told of her longings for her
people and of the difficulties that beset her. She communed with him of
the mystery of life, how to reach the highest and best. She asked him
of many a matter that perplexed her. Graciously the king listened, and
wisely he answered her. We can easily imagine the words which showed
his skill in answering her questions. There may have been and doubtless
was the keen wit, the brilliant saying, the flashes of wisdom, the
glow of poetry, the genius like that which settled the dispute between
the two mothers. Never did she dream of wisdom like that, and she
exclaimed, “Behold, the half was not told me!” What she saw and heard
excited her wonder to such a degree that it seemed to her directly
imparted by the God of Solomon, whom he adored, and for whom she became
filled with reverence. The light of heaven seemed to break on her soul
when she exclaimed, “Blessed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in
thee, to set thee on the throne of Israel.”
She gladly acknowledged the truth of all that she had heard. “It was a
true report that I heard in my own land of thy acts and of thy wisdom.”
It was not mere learning, the answering of hard questions, the solution
of metaphysical problems, but his works, appointments, the sitting of
his servants, and the attendance of his ministers, the civil officers
who sat at the royal table, convinced the queen of his great wisdom, in
which she recognized the working of a peculiar power and grace imparted
by God. It was also a practical or life-wisdom, such as Solomon himself
describes, “a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, length of
days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honor.”
Such wisdom, which rests upon the foundation of the knowledge and love
of God, “is more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst
desire are not to be compared unto her.”
But the queen was not content with the words of praise and thanks. She
makes proof of her gratitude by means of great and royal gifts. “She
gave the king an hundred and twenty talents of gold, and of spices
very great store, and precious stones.” The presents which she made
consisted of those articles in which her land most abounded, and for
which it was most famous. The spices were principally the celebrated
Arabian balm, which was largely exported, and the shrub of which is
said to have been introduced into Palestine by the Queen of Sheba.
How high the significance which has always been attached to this
visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon is shown by the fact that
the remembrance of it has been preserved outside of Palestine for
thousands of years, and that two ancient peoples, the Arabians and
Abyssinians, regard her as the mother of their line of kings. And when
the Lord, from out the treasure of the Old Testament history, chooses
this narrative, and presents it for the shaming of the Pharisees and
Scribes, this presupposes that it was known to and specially esteemed
by all other nations. Sheba was reckoned to be the richest, most
highly favored and glorious land in the ancient world, and therefore
was given the unique name of “The Happy.” Now when the queen came with
a splendid retinue to visit this distant land, and from no political
design, but merely to see and hear the famous king; and when she, the
sovereign of the most fortunate country in the world, declared that
what she had seen and heard exceeded all her expectations; this surely
was the greatest homage Solomon could have obtained. The visit of the
Queen of Sheba marks, therefore, the splendor and climax of the Old
Testament Kingdom, and marks an essential moment in the history of the
covenant as well as of Solomon, and when our Lord said, “The Queen of
the South shall rise up in the judgment with this generation and shall
condemn it; for she came from the uttermost part of the earth to hear
the wisdom of Solomon, and behold a greater than Solomon is here,” He
recognized the prophetical and typical meaning of our narrative. It
is said in the prophetical descriptions of the peaceful Kingdom of
Messiah, “The Kings of Sheba and Seba (Meroe) shall offer gifts; yea,
all kings shall fall down before him; all nations shall serve him.” The
Queen of Sheba, who came from afar, is a type of the kings who, with
their people, shall come from afar to the everlasting Prince of Peace,
the King of kings, and shall do Him homage. Her visit is an historical
prophecy of the true and eternal Kingdom of peace.
The Queen of Sheba had everything that pertains to temporal prosperity,
high rank, honor and wealth. But all these satisfied not her soul.
She spared no expense or hardships, in order to satisfy the longing
of her heart for the Word of Life. She said not, “I am rich, and have
an abundance, and need nothing,” but she felt she still needed the
highest and the best. How superior is this heathen woman to so many in
Christian lands, who hunger and thirst after all possible things, but
never after a knowledge of truth and wisdom, after the Word of Life.
And then we do not need to journey on camels through burning deserts to
Jerusalem to find Him who is greater than Solomon, for He has promised,
“I am with you forever, until the end of the world,” and can be found
by “whosoever” will seek after Him.