_DAVID TWICE SPARES THE LIFE OF SAUL._
1 SAMUEL xxiv., xxvi.
The invasion of the Philistines had freed David from the fear of Saul
for a time, but only for a time. He knew full well that when the king of
Israel had once repelled that invasion he would return to prosecute the
object on which his heart was so much set. For a while he took refuge
among the rocks of Engedi, that beautiful spot of which we have already
spoken, and which has been embalmed in Holy Writ, as suggesting a fair
image of the Beloved One--"My beloved is unto me as a cluster of
camphire in the vineyards of Engedi" (Song of Solomon i. 14). The
mountains here and throughout the hill country of Judea are mostly of
limestone formation, abounding, like all such rocks, in caverns of large
size, in which lateral chambers run off at an angle from the main
cavity, admitting of course little or no light, but such that a person
inside, while himself unseen, may see what goes on at the entrance to
the cave. In the dark sides of such a cave, David and his men lay
concealed when Saul was observed by him to enter and lie down, probably
unattended, to enjoy the mid-day sleep which the heat of the climate
often demands. We cannot fail to remark the singular providence that
concealed from Saul at this time the position of David. He had good
information of his movements in general; the treacherous spirit which
was so prevalent, greatly aided him in this; but on the present
occasion, he was evidently in ignorance of his situation. If only he had
known, how easy it would have been for him with his three thousand
chosen men to blockade the cave, and starve David and his followers into
surrender!
The entrance of the king being noticed by David's men, they urged their
master to avail himself of the opportunity of getting rid of him which
was now so providentially and unexpectedly presented to him. We can
hardly think of a stronger temptation to do so than that under which
David now lay. In the first place, there was the prospect of getting rid
of the weary life he was leading,--more like the life of a wild beast
hunted by its enemies, than of a man eager to do good to his fellows,
with a keen relish for the pleasures of home and an extraordinary
delight in the services of God's house. Then there was the prospect of
wearing the crown and wielding the sceptre of Israel,--the splendours of
a royal palace, and its golden opportunities of doing good. Further,
there was the voice of his followers urging him to the deed, putting on
it a sacred character by ascribing to it a Divine permission and
appointment. And still further, there was the suddenness and
unexpectedness of the opportunity. Nothing is more critical than a
sudden opportunity of indulging an ardent passion; with scarcely a
moment for deliberation, one is apt to be hurried blindly along, and at
once to commit the deed. With all his noble nature, Robert the Bruce
could not refrain from plunging his dagger into the heart of the
treacherous Comyn, even in the convent of the Minorite friars. The
discipline of David's spirit must at this time have been admirable. Not
only did he restrain himself, but he restrained his followers too. He
would neither strike his heartless enemy, nor suffer another to strike
him. On the first of the two occasions of his sparing him--recorded in
the twenty-fourth chapter--he might naturally believe that his
forbearance would turn Saul's heart and end the unjust quarrel. On the
second occasion of the same sort--recorded in the twenty-sixth
chapter--he could have had no hope of the kind. It was a pure sense of
duty that restrained him. He acted in utter contempt of what was
personal and selfish, and in deepest reverence for what was holy and
Divine. How different from the common spirit of the world! Young people,
who are so ready to keep up a sense of wrong, and wait an opportunity of
paying back your schoolfellows, study this example of David. Ye grown
men, who could not get such-a-one to vote for you, or to support your
claim in your controversy, and who vowed that you would never rest till
you had driven him from the place, how does your spirit compare with
that of David? Ye statesmen, who have received an affront from some
barbarous people, utterly ignorant of your ways, and who forthwith issue
your orders for your ships of war to scatter destruction among their
miserable villages, terrifying, killing, mutilating, no matter how many
of the wretches that have no arms to meet you in fair fight--think of
the forbearance of David. And think too of many passages in the New
Testament that give the idea of another treatment and another species of
victory:--"Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst,
give him drink; for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his
head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."
The special consideration that held back the arm of David from killing
Saul was that he was the Lord's anointed. He held the office of king by
Divine appointment,--not merely as other kings may be regarded as
holding it, but as God's lieutenant, called specially, and selected for
the office. For David to remove him would be to interfere with the
Divine prerogative. It would be so much the more inexcusable as God had
many other ways of removing him, any one of which He might readily
employ. "David said furthermore, As the Lord liveth, the Lord shall
smite him; or his day shall come to die; or he shall descend into
battle, and perish. The Lord forbid that I should stretch forth mine
hand against the Lord's anointed."
Let us briefly follow the narrative on each of the two occasions.
First, when David saw Saul asleep at the entrance of the cave near
Engedi, he crept towards him as he lay, and removed a loose piece of his
garment. When Saul rose up and proceeded on his way, David boldly
followed him, believing that after sparing the king's life he was safe
from attack either from him or his people. His respectful salutation,
drawing the king's attention, was followed by an act of profound
obeisance. David then addressed Saul somewhat elaborately, his address
being wholly directed to the point of disabusing the king's mind of the
idea that he had any plot whatever against his life. His words were very
respectful but at the same time bold. Taking advantage of the act of
forbearance which had just occurred, he demanded of the king why he
listened to men's words, saying, Behold, David seeketh thy hurt. He
protested that for himself nothing would induce him to stretch forth his
hand against the Lord's anointed. That very day, he had had the chance,
but he had forborne. His people had urged him, but he would not comply.
_There_ was the skirt of his garment which he had just cut off: it would
have been as easy for him, when he did that, to plunge his sword into
the heart of the king. Could there be a plainer proof that Saul was
mistaken in supposing David to be actuated by murderous or other sinful
feelings against him? And yet Saul hunted for his life to take it.
Rising still higher, David appealed to the great Judge of all, and
placed the quarrel in His hands. To vary the case, he quoted a proverb
to the effect that only where there was wickedness in the heart could
wickedness be found in the life. Then, with the easy play of a versatile
mind, he put the case in a comical light: did it become the great king
of Israel to bring his hosts after one so insignificant--"after a dead
dog, after a flea"? Was ocean to be tossed into tempest "to waft a
feather or to drown a straw"? Once more, and to sum up the whole case,
he appealed solemnly to God, virtually invoking His blessing on whoever
was innocent in this quarrel, and calling down His wrath and destruction
on the party that was really guilty.
The effect on Saul was prompt and striking. He was touched in his
tenderest feelings by the singular generosity of his opponent. He broke
down thoroughly, welcomed the dear voice of David, "lifted up his voice
and wept." He confessed that he was wrong, that David had rewarded him
good and he had rewarded David evil. David had given him that day a
convincing proof of his integrity; though it seemed that the Lord had
delivered him into his hand, he killed him not. He had reversed the
principle on which men were accustomed to act when they came upon an
enemy, and had him in their power. And all these acknowledgments of
David's superior goodness Saul made, while knowing well and frankly
owning that David should be the king, and that the kingdom should be
established in his hand. One favour only Saul would beg of David in
reference to that coming time--that he would not massacre his family, or
destroy his name out of his father's house--a request which it was easy
for David to comply with. Never would he dream of such a thing, however
common it was in these Eastern kingdoms. David sware to Saul, and the
two parted in peace.
How glad David must have been that he acted as he did! Already his
forbearance has had a full reward. It has drawn out the very best
elements of Saul's soul; it has placed Saul in a light in which we can
think of him with interest, and even admiration. How can this be the man
that so meanly plotted for David's life when he sent him against the
Philistines? that gave him his daughter to be his wife in order that he
might have more opportunities to entangle him? that flung the murderous
javelin at his head? that massacred the priests and destroyed their city
simply because they had shown him kindness? Saul is indeed a riddle, all
the more that this generous fit lasted but a very short time; and soon
after, when the treacherous Ziphites undertook to betray David, Saul and
his soldiers came again to the wilderness to destroy him.
It has been thought by some, and with reason, that something more than
the varying humour of Saul is necessary to account for his persistent
efforts to kill David. And it is believed that a clue to this is
supplied by expressions of which David made much use, and by certain
references in the Psalms, which imply that to a great extent he was the
victim of calumny, and of calumny of a very malignant and persistent
kind. In the address on which we have commented David began by asking
why Saul _listened to men's words_, saying, Behold, David seeketh thy
life? And in the address recorded in the twenty-sixth chapter (ver. 19)
David says very bitterly, "If they be the children of men that have
stirred thee up against me, cursed be they before the Lord; for they
have driven me out this day from abiding in the inheritance of the Lord,
saying, Go, serve other gods." Turning to the seventh Psalm, we find in
it a vehement and passionate appeal to God in connection with the bitter
and murderous fury of an enemy, who is said in the superscription to
have been Cush the Benjamite. The fury of that man against David was
extraordinary. Deliver me, O Lord, "lest he tear my soul like a lion,
rending it in pieces when there is none to deliver." It is plain that
the form of calumny which this man indulged in was accusing David of
"rewarding evil to him that was at peace with him," an accusation not
only not true, but outrageously contrary to the truth, seeing he had
"delivered him that without cause was his enemy." It is not unlikely
therefore that at Saul's court David had an enemy who had the bitterest
enmity to him, who never ceased to poison Saul's mind regarding him, who
put facts in the most offensive light, and even after the first act of
David's generosity to Saul not only continued, but continued more
ferociously than ever to inflame Saul's mind, and urge him to get rid of
this intolerable nuisance. What could have inspired Cush, or indeed any
one, with such a hatred to David we cannot definitely say; much of it
was due to that instinctive hatred of holy character which worldly men
of strong will show in every age, and perhaps not a little to the
apprehension that if David did ever come to the throne, many a wicked
man, now fattening on the spoils of the kingdom through the favour of
Saul, would be stript of his wealth and consigned to obscurity.
It would seem, then, that had Saul been left alone he would have left
David alone. It was the bitter and incessant plotting of David's enemies
that stirred him up. Jealousy was only too active a feeling in his
breast, and it was easy to work upon it, and fill him with the idea
that, after all, David was a rebel and a traitor. These things David
must have known; knowing them, he made allowance for them, and did not
suffer his heart to become altogether cold to Saul. The kindly feelings
which Saul expressed when he dismissed from his view all the calumnies
with which he had been poisoned, and looked straight at David, made a
deep impression on his rival, and the fruit of them appeared in that
beautiful elegy on Saul and Jonathan, which must seem a piece of
hypocrisy if the facts we have stated be not kept in view: "Saul and
Jonathan were pleasant and lovely in their lives, and in their death
they were not divided."
In the second incident, recorded in the twenty-sixth chapter, when David
again spared the life of Saul, not much more needs to be said. Some
critics would hold it to be the same incident recorded by another hand
in some earlier document consulted by the writer of 1 Samuel, containing
certain variations such as might take place at the hand of a different
historian. But let us observe the differences of the two chapters. (1)
The scene is different; in the one case it is near Engedi, in the other
in the wilderness, near the hill Hachilah, which is before Jeshimon.
(2) The place where Saul was asleep is different; in the one case a
cave; in the other case a camp, protected by a trench. (3) The trophy
carried off by David was different; in the one case the skirt of his
garment, in the other a spear and cruse of water. (4) The position of
David when he made himself known was different; in the one case he went
out of the cave and called after Saul; in the other he crossed a gully
and spoke from the top of a crag. (5) His way of attracting attention
was different; in the one case he spoke directly to Saul, in the other
he rallied Abner, captain of the host, for failing to protect the person
of the king. But we need not proceed further with this list of
differences. Those we have adverted to are enough to repel the assertion
that there were not two separate incidents of the same kind. And surely
if the author was a mere compiler, using different documents, he might
have known if the incidents were the same. If it be said that we cannot
believe that two events so similar could have happened, that this is too
improbable to be believed, we may answer by referring to similar cases
in the Gospels, or even in common life. Suppose a historian of the
American civil war to describe what took place at Bull Run. First he
gives an account of a battle there between the northern and southern
armies, some incidents of which he describes. By-and-bye he again speaks
of a battle there, but the incidents he gives are quite different. Our
modern critics would say it was all one event, but that the historian,
having consulted two accounts, had clumsily written as if there had been
two battles. We know that this fancy of criticism is baseless. In the
American civil war there were two battles of Bull Run between the same
contending parties at different times. So we may safely believe that
there were two instances of David's forbearance to Saul, one in the
neighbourhood of Engedi, the other in the neighbourhood of Ziph.
And all that needs to be said further respecting the second act of
forbearance by David is that it shines forth all the brighter because it
was the second, and because it happened so soon after the other. We may
see that David did not put much trust in Saul's profession the first
time, for he did not disband his troop, but remained in the wilderness
as before. It is quite possible that this displeased Saul. It is also
possible that that inveterate false accuser of David from whom he
suffered so much would make a great deal of this to Saul, and would
represent to him strongly that if David really was the innocent man he
claimed to be, after receiving the assurance he got from him he would
have sent his followers to their homes, and returned in peace to his
own. That he did nothing of the kind may have exasperated Saul, and
induced him to change his policy, and again take steps to secure David,
as before. Substantially, David's remonstrance with Saul on this second
occasion was the same as on the first. But at this time he gave proof of
a power of sarcasm which he had not shown before. He rated Abner on the
looseness of the watch he kept of his royal master, and adjudged him
worthy of death for not making it impossible for any one to come
unobserved so near the king, and have him so completely in his power.
The apology of Saul was substantially the same as before; but how could
it have been different? The acknowledgment of what was to happen to
David was hardly so ample as on the last occasion. David doubtless
parted from Saul with the old conviction that kindness was not wanting
in his personal feelings, but that the evil influences that were around
him, and the fits of disorder to which his mind was subject, might
change his spirit in a single hour from that of generous benediction to
that of implacable jealousy.
But now to draw to a close. We have adverted to that high reverence for
God which was the means of restraining David from lifting up his hand
against Saul, because he was the Lord's anointed. Let us now notice more
particularly what an admirable spirit of self-restraint and patience
David showed in being willing to bear all the risk and pain of a most
distressing position, until it should please God to bring to him the
hour of deliverance. The grace we specially commend is that of waiting
for God's time. Alas! into how many sins, and even crimes, have men been
betrayed through unwillingness to wait for God's time! A young man
embarks in the pursuits of commerce; but the gains to be derived from
ordinary business come in far too slowly for him; he makes haste to be
rich, engages in gigantic speculation, plunges into frightful gambling,
and in a few years brings ruin on himself and all connected with him.
How many sharp and unhandsome transactions continually occur just
because men are impatient, and wish to hurry on some consummation which
their hearts are set on! Nay, have not murders often taken place just to
hasten the removal of some who occupied places that others were eager to
fill? And how often are evil things done by those who will not wait for
the sanction of honourable marriage?
But even where no act of crime has been committed, impatience of God's
time may give rise to many an evil feeling that does not go beyond one's
own breast. Many a son who will succeed to an inheritance on the death
of his father, or of some other relative, is tempted to wish, more or
less consciously, for an event the last to be desired by a filial heart.
You may say, it is human nature; how could any one help it? The example
of David shows how one may help it. The heart that is profoundly
impressed with the excellence of the Divine will, and the duty and
privilege of loyally accepting all His arrangements, can never desire to
anticipate that will in any matter, great or small. For how can any good
come in the end from forcing forward arrangements out of the Divine
order? If, for the moment, this brings any advantage in one direction,
it is sure to be followed by far greater evils in another. Do we all
realize the full import of our prayer when we say, "Thy will be done on
earth as it is in heaven"? Of one thing you may be very sure, there is
no impatience in heaven for a speedier fulfilment of desirable events
than the will of God has ordained. There is no desire to force on the
wheels of Providence if they do not seem to be moving fast enough. So
let it be with us. Let us fix it as a first principle in our minds, as
an immovable rule of our lives, that as God knows best how to order His
providence, so any interference with Him is rash and perilous, and
wicked too; and with reference both to events which are not lawfully in
our hands, and the time at which they are to happen, let us realize it
as alike our duty and our interest to say to God, in the spirit of full
and unreserved trust--"Not our will, but Thine be done."