CHAPTER XXXIII.

_DAVID'S SECOND FLIGHT TO GATH._

1 SAMUEL xxvii.; xxviii. 1, 2; xxix.

We are not prepared for the sad decline in the spirit of trust which is

recorded in the beginning of the twenty-seventh chapter. The victory

gained by David over the carnal spirit of revenge, shown so signally in

his sparing the life of Saul a second time, would have led us to expect

that he would never again fall under the influence of carnal fear. But

there are strange ebbs and flows in the spiritual life, and sometimes a

victory brings its dangers, as well as its glory. Perhaps this very

conquest excited in David the spirit of self-confidence; he may have had

less sense of his need of daily strength from above; and he may have

fallen into the state of mind against which the Apostle warns us, "Let

him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."

In his collision with Nabal we saw him fail in what seemed one of his

strong points--the very spirit of self-control which he had exercised so

remarkably toward Saul; and now we see him fail in another of his strong

points--the spirit of trust toward God. Could anything show more clearly

that even the most eminent graces of the saints spring from no native

fountain of goodness within them, but depend on the continuance of their

vital fellowship with Him of whom the Psalmist said, "All my springs

are in Thee"? (Psalm lxxxvii. 7). Carelessness and prayerlessness

interrupt that fellowship; the supply of daily strength ceases to come;

temptation arises, and they become weak like other men. "_Abide_ in Me,"

said our Lord, with special emphasis on the need of permanence in the

relation; and the prophet says, "They that wait on the Lord," as a

habitual exercise, "shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with

wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk

and not faint."

The most strange thing about David's new decline is, that it led him to

try a device which he had tried before, and which had proved a great

failure. We see him retreating before an enemy he had often conquered;

retreating, too, by a path every foot of which he had traversed, and

with whose bitter ending he was already familiar. Just as before, his

declension begins with distrust; and just as before, dissimulation is

the product of the distrustful spirit. He is brought into the most

painful dilemma, and into experience of the most grievous disaster; but

God, in His infinite mercy, extricates him from the one and enables him

to retrieve the other. It is affliction that brings him to his senses

and drives him to God; it is the returning spirit of prayer and trust

that sustains him in his difficulties, and at last brings to him, from

the hand of God, a merciful deliverance from them all.

Our first point of interest is the growth and manifestation of the

spirit of distrust. "David said in his heart, I shall now perish one day

by the hand of Saul; there is nothing better for me than that I should

speedily escape into the land of the Philistines." We find it difficult

to account for the sudden triumph of this very despondent feeling. It

is hardly enough to say that David could have had no confidence in

Saul's expressions of regret and declared purposes of amendment. That

was no new feature of the case. Perhaps one element of the explanation

may be, that Saul, with his three thousand men, had not only become

familiar with all David's hiding-places, but had stationed troops in

various parts of the district that would so hamper his movements as to

hem him in as in a prison. Then also there may have been some new

outbreak of the malignant fury of Cush the Benjamite, and other enemies

who were about Saul, rousing the king to even more earnest efforts than

ever to apprehend him. There is yet another circumstance in David's

situation, that has not, we think, obtained the notice it deserves, but

which may have had a very material influence on his decision. David had

now two wives with him, Abigail the widow of Nabal, and Ahinoam the

Jezreelitess. He would naturally be desirous to provide them with the

comforts of a settled home. A band of young men might put up with the

risks and discomforts of a roaming life, which it would not be possible

for women to bear. The rougher sex might think nothing of midnight

removals, and attacks in the dark, and scampers over wild passes and

rugged mountains at all hours of the day and night, and snatches of food

at irregular times, and all the other experiences which David and his

men had borne patiently and cheerfully in the earlier stages of their

outlaw history. But for women this was unsuitable. It is true that this

alone would not have led David to say, "I shall one day perish by the

hand of Saul." But it would increase his sense of difficulty; it would

make him feel more keenly the embarrassments of his situation; it would

help to overwhelm him. And when he was thus at his wit's end, the sense

of danger from Saul would become more and more serious. The tension of a

mind thus pressed on every side is something terrible. Pressed and

tortured by invincible difficulties, David gives way to despair--"I

shall one day perish by the hand of Saul."

Let us observe the manner in which this feeling grew to such strength as

to give rise to a new line of conduct. It got entrance into _his heart_.

It hovered about him in a somewhat loose form, before he took hold of

it, and resolved to act upon it. It approached him in the same manner in

which temptation approaches many a one, first presenting itself to the

imagination and the feelings, trying to get hold of them, and then

getting possession of the will, and turning the whole man in the desired

direction. Like a skilful adversary who first attacks an outpost,

apparently of little value, but when he has got it erects on it a

battery by which he is able to conquer a nearer position, and thus

gradually approaches, till at last the very citadel is in his hands,--so

sin at first hovers about the outposts of the soul. Often it seems at

first just to play with the imagination; one fancies this thing and the

other, this sensual indulgence or that act of dishonesty; and then,

having become familiar with it there, one admits it to the inner

chambers of the soul, and ere long the lust bringeth forth sin. The

lesson not to let sin play even with the imagination, but drive it

thence the moment one becomes conscious of its presence, cannot be

pressed too strongly. Have you ever studied the language of the Lord's

Prayer?--"Lead us not _into_ temptation." You are being led into

temptation whenever you are led to think, with interest and half

longing, of any sinful indulgence. Wisdom demands of you that the

moment you are conscious of such a feeling you resolutely exclaim, "Get

thee behind me, Satan!" It is the tempter trying to establish a foothold

in the outworks, meaning, when he has done so, to advance nearer and

nearer to the citadel, till at last you shall find him in strong

possession, and your soul entangled in the meshes of perdition.

The conclusion to which David came, under the influence of distrust, as

to the best course for him to follow shows what opposite decisions may

be arrived at, according to the point of view at which men take their

stand. "There is nothing better for me than that I should escape

speedily into the land of the Philistines." From a more correct point of

view, nothing could have been worse. Had Moses thought of his prospects

from the same position, he would have said, "There is nothing better for

me than to remain the son of Pharaoh's daughter, and enjoy all the good

things to which Providence has so remarkably called me;" but standing on

the ground of faith, his conclusion was precisely the opposite. Looking

abroad over the world with the eye of sense, the young man may say,

"There is nothing better for me than that I should rejoice in my youth,

and that my heart should cheer me in the days of my youth, and that I

should walk in the ways of mine heart and in the sight of mine eyes."

But the eye of faith sees ominous clouds and gathering storms in the

distance, which show that there could be nothing worse.

As usual, David's error was connected with the omission of prayer. We

find no clause in this chapter, "Bring hither the ephod." He asked no

counsel of God; he did not even sit down to deliberate calmly on the

matter. The impulse to which he yielded required him to decide at once.

The word "speedily" indicates the presence of panic, the action of a

tumultuous force on his mind, inducing him to act as promptly as one

does in raising one's arm to ward off a threatened blow. Possibly he had

the feeling that, if God's mind were consulted, it would be contrary to

his desire, and on that ground, like too many persons, he may have

shrunk from honest prayer. How different from the spirit of the

psalm--"Show me Thy ways, O Lord, teach me Thy paths; lead me in Thy

truth and teach me, for Thou art the God of my salvation; on Thee do I

wait all the day." Dost thou imagine, David, that the Lord's arm is

shortened that it cannot save, and His ear heavy that it cannot hear?

Would not He who delivered you in six troubles cause that in seven no

evil should touch thee? Has He not promised that thou shalt be hid from

the scourge of the tongue, neither shalt thou be afraid of destruction

when it cometh? Dost thou not know that thy seed shall be great and

thine offspring as the grass of the earth? Thou shalt come to thy grave

in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.

So "David arose, and he passed over with the six hundred men that were

with him, unto Achish the son of Maoch, king of Gath." It is thought by

some that this was a different king from the former, the name Achish

like the name Pharaoh being used by all the kings. At first the

arrangement seemed to succeed. Achish appears to have received him

kindly. "David dwelt with Achish at Gath, he and his men, every man with

his household, even David with his two wives." The emphasis laid on the

household and the wives shows how difficult it had been to provide for

them before. And Saul, at last, gave up the chase, and sought for him no

more. Of course, in giving him a friendly reception, Achish must have

had a view to his own interest. He would calculate on making use of him

in his battles with Saul, and very probably give an incredulous smile if

he heard anything of the scruples he had shown to lift up his hand

against the Lord's anointed.

Availing himself of the favourable impression made on Achish, David now

begs to have a country town allotted to him as his residence, so as to

avoid what appeared the unseemliness of his dwelling in the royal city

with him. There was much common sense in the demand, and Achish could

not but feel it. Gath was but a little place, and Achish, if he was but

lord of Gath, was not a very powerful king. The presence in such a place

of a foreign prince, with a retinue of soldiers six hundred strong, was

hardly becoming. Possibly Achish's own body guard did not come up in

number and in prowess to the troop of David. The request for a separate

residence was therefore granted readily, and Ziklag was assigned to

David. It lay near the southern border of the Philistines, close to the

southern desert. At Ziklag he was away from the eye of the lords of the

Philistines that had always viewed him with such jealousy; he was far

away from the still greater jealousy of Saul; and with Geshurites, and

Gezrites, and Amalekites in his neighbourhood, the natural enemies of

his country, he had opportunities of using his troop so as at once to

improve their discipline and promote the welfare of his native land.

There was another favourable occurrence in David's experience at this

time. From a parallel passage (1 Chron. xii.) we learn that during his

residence among the Philistines he was constantly receiving important

accessions to his troop. One set of men who came to him, Benjamites, of

the tribe of Saul, were remarkably skilful in the use of the bow and the

sling, able to use either right hand or left with equal ease. The men

that came to him were not from one tribe only, but from many. A very

important section were from Benjamin and Judah. At first David seemed to

have some suspicion of their sincerity. Going out to meet them he said

to them, "If ye be come peaceably to me to help me, my heart shall be

knit unto you; but if ye be come to betray me to my enemies, seeing

there is no wrong in my hands, the God of our fathers look thereon and

rebuke it." The answer was given by Amasai, in the spirit and rhythmical

language of prophecy: "Thine are we, David, and on thy side, thou son of

Jesse; peace, peace be unto thee, and peace be to thine helpers; for thy

God helpeth thee." Thus he was continually receiving evidence of the

favour in which he was held by his people, and his band was continually

increasing, "until it was a great host, like the host of God." It

seemed, up to this point, as if Providence had favoured his removal to

the land of the Philistines, and brought to him the security and the

prosperity which he could not find in the land of Judah. But it was

ill-gained security and only mock-prosperity; the day of his troubles

drew on.

The use which, as we have seen, he made of his troop was to invade the

Geshurites, the Gezrites, and the Amalekites. In taking this step David

had a sinister purpose. It would not have been so agreeable to the

Philistines to learn that the arms of David had been turned against

these tribes as against his own countrymen. When therefore he was asked

by Achish where he had gone that day, he returned an answer fitted, and

indeed intended, to deceive. Without saying in words, "I have been

fighting against my own people in the south of Judah," he led Achish to

believe that he had, and he was pleased when his words were taken in

that sense. Achish, we are told, believed David, believed that he had

been in arms against his countrymen. "He hath made his people Israel

utterly to abhor him; therefore he shall be my servant for ever." Could

there have been a more lamentable spectacle? one of the noblest of men

stained by the meanness of a false insinuation; David, the anointed of

the God of Israel, ranged with the common herd of liars!

Nor was this the only error into which his crooked policy now led him.

To cover his deceitful course he had recourse to an act of terrible

carnage. It was deemed by him important that no one should be able to

carry to Achish a faithful report of what he had been doing. To prevent

this he made a complete massacre, put to death every man, woman, child

of the Amalekites and other tribes whom he now attacked. Such massacres

were indeed quite common in Eastern warfare. The Bulgarian and other

massacres of which we have heard in our own day show that even yet,

after an interval of nearly three thousand years, they are not foreign

to the practice of Eastern nations. In point of fact, they were not

thought more of, or worse of, than any of the other incidents of war.

War was held to bind up into one bundle the whole lives and property of

the enemy, and give to the conqueror supreme control over it. To destroy

the whole was just the same in principle as to destroy a part. If the

destruction of the whole was necessary in order to carry out the objects

of the campaign, it was not more wicked to perpetrate such destruction

than to destroy a part.

True, according to our modern view, there is something mean in falling

on helpless, defenceless women and children, and slaughtering them in

cold blood. And yet our modern ideas allow the bombardment or the

besieging of great cities, and the bringing of the more slow but

terrible process of starvation to bear against women and children and

all, in order to compel a surrender. Much though modern civilisation has

done to lessen the horrors of war, if we approve of all its methods we

cannot afford to hold up our hands in horror at those which were judged

allowable in the days of David. Yet surely, you may say, we might have

expected better things of David. We might have expected him to break

away from the common sentiment, and to show more humanity. But this

would not have been reasonable. For it is very seldom that the

individual conscience, even in the case of the best men, becomes

sensible at once of the vices of its age. How many good men in this

country, in the early part of this century, were zealous defenders of

slavery, and in America down to a much later time! There is nothing more

needful for us in studying history, even Old Testament history, than to

remember that very remarkable individual excellence may be found in

connection with a great amount of the vices of the age. We cannot

attempt to show that David was not guilty of a horrible carnage in his

treatment of the Amalekites. All we can say is, he shared in the belief

of the time that such carnage was a lawful incident of war. We cannot

but feel that in the whole circumstances it left a stain upon his

character; and yet he may have engaged in it without any consciousness

of barbarity, without any idea that the day would come when his friends

would blush for the deed.

The Philistines were now preparing a new campaign under Achish against

Saul and his kingdom, and Achish determined that David should go with

him; further, that he should go in the capacity of "keeper of his head,"

or captain of his body guard, and that this should not be a temporary

arrangement, but permanent--"for ever." It is difficult for us to

conceive the depth of the embarrassment into which this intimation must

have plunged David. We must bear in mind how scrupulous and sensitive

his conscience was as to raising his hand against the Lord's anointed;

and we must take into account the horror he must have felt at the

thought of rushing in deadly array against his own dear countrymen, with

most of whom he had had no quarrel, and who had never done him any harm.

When Achish made him head of his body guard he paid a great compliment

to his fidelity and bravery; but in proportion as the post was

honourable it was disagreeable and embarrassing. For David and his men

would have to fight close to Achish, under his very eye; and any

symptoms of holding back from the fray--any inclination to be off, or to

spare the foe, which natural feeling might have dictated in the hour of

battle, must be resisted in presence of the king. Perhaps David reckoned

that if the Israelites were defeated by the Philistines he might be able

to make better terms for them--might even be of use to Saul himself, and

thus render such services as would atone for his hostile attitude. But

this was a wretched consolation. David was entangled so that he could

neither advance nor retreat. Before him was GOD, closing His path in

front; behind him was MAN, closing it in rear; and we may well believe

he would have willingly given all he possessed if only his feet could

have been clear and his conscience upright as before.

Still, he does not appear to have returned to a candid frame of mind,

but rather to have continued the dissimulation. He had gone with Achish

as far as the battlefield, when it pleased God, in great mercy, to

extricate him from his difficulty by using the jealousy of the lords of

the Philistines as the means of his dismissal from the active service of

King Achish. But instead of gladly retiring when he received intimation

that his services were dispensed with, we find him (chap. xxix. 8)

remonstrating with Achish, speaking as if it were a disappointment not

to be allowed to go with him, and as if he thirsted for an opportunity

of chastising his countrymen. It is sad to find him continuing in this

strain. We are told that the time during which he abode in the country

of the Philistines was a full year and four months. It was to all

appearance a time of spiritual declension; and as distrust ruled his

heart, so dissimulation ruled his conduct. It could hardly have been

other than a time of merely formal prayers and comfortless spiritual

experience. If he would but have allowed himself to believe it, he was

far happier in the cave of Adullam or the wilderness of Engedi, when the

candle of the Lord shone upon his head, than he was afterwards amid the

splendour of the palace of Achish, or the princely independence of

Ziklag.

The only bright spot in this transaction was the very cordial testimony

borne by Achish to the faultless way in which David had uniformly served

him. It is seldom indeed that such language as Achish employed can be

used of any servant--"I know that thou art good in my sight, as an angel

of God." Achish must have been struck with the utter absence of

treachery and of all self-seeking in David. David had shown that

singular, unblemished trustworthiness that earned such golden opinions

for Joseph in the house of Potiphar and from the keeper of the prison.

In this respect he had kept his light shining before men with a clear,

unclouded lustre. Even amid his spiritual backsliding and sad distrust

of God, he had never stained his hands with greed or theft, he had in

all these respects kept himself unspotted of the world.

The chapter of David's history which we have now been pursuing is a very

painful one, but the circumstances in which he was placed were extremely

difficult and trying. It is impossible to justify the course he took.

By-and-bye we shall see how God chastised him for it, and by chastising

him brought him to Himself. But to those who are disposed to be very

severe on him we might well say, He that is without sin among you, let

him first cast a stone at him. Who among you have not been induced at

times to try carnal and unworthy expedients for extricating yourselves

from difficulty? Who, in days of boyhood or girlhood, never told a

falsehood to cover a fault? Who of you have been uniformly accustomed to

carry to God every difficulty and trial, with the honest, immovable

determination to do simply and solely what might seem to be agreeable to

God's will? Have we not all cause to mourn over conduct that has

dishonoured God and distressed our consciences? May He give all of us

light to see wherein we have come short in the past, or wherein we are

coming short in the present. And from the bottom of our hearts may we be

taught to raise our prayer, From all the craft and cunning of Satan;

from all the devices of the carnal mind; from all that blinds us to the

pure and perfect will of God--good Lord, deliver us.

The Expositor's Bible: The First Book of Samuel · 第 33 / 36 章