_DAVID AT ZIKLAG._
1 SAMUEL xxx.
After David had received from King Achish the appointment of captain of
his body guard, he had with his troops accompanied the Philistine army,
passing along the maritime plain to the very end of their journey--to
the spot selected for battle, close to "the fountain which is in
Jezreel." It seems to have been only after the whole Philistine host
were ranged in battle array that the presence of David and his men, who
remained in the rear to protect the king, arrested the attention of the
lords of the Philistines, and on their remonstrance they were sent away.
It is probable that David's return to Ziklag, and the expedition in
which he had to engage to recover his wives and his property, took place
at or about the very time when Saul made his journey to Endor, and when
the fatal battle of Gilboa was raging. We have seen that though David
never, like Saul, threw off the authority of God, he had been following
ways of his own, ways of deceit and unfaithfulness. He too had been
exposing himself to the displeasure of God, and on him, as on Saul, some
retribution behoved to fall. But in the two cases we see the difference
between judgment and chastisement. In the case of Saul it was judgment
that came down; his life and his career were terminated avowedly as the
punishment of his offence. In the case of David the rod was lifted to
correct, not to destroy; to bring him back, not to drive him for ever
away; to fit him for service, not to cut him asunder, or appoint him his
portion with the hypocrites. There is every reason to believe that the
awful disaster that befell David on his return to Ziklag was the means
of restoring him to a trustful and truthful frame.
It appears from the chapter now before us that, in the absence of David
and his troop, severe reprisals had been taken by the Amalekites for the
defeat and utter destruction which they had lately inflicted on a
portion of their tribe. We must remember that the Amalekites were a
widely dispersed people, consisting of many tribes, each living
separately from the rest, but so related that in any emergency they
would readily come to one another's help. News of the extermination of
the tribes whom David had attacked, and whom he had utterly destroyed
lest any of them should bring word to Achish of his real employment, had
been brought to their neighbours; and these neighbours determined to
take revenge for the slaughter of their kinsmen. The opportunity of
David's absence was taken for invading Ziklag, for which purpose a large
and well-equipped expedition had been got together; and as they met with
no opposition, they carried everything before them. Happily, however, as
they found no enemies they did not draw the sword; they counted it
better policy to carry off all that could be transported, so as to make
use of the goods, and sell the women and children into slavery, and as
they had a great multitude of beasts of burden with them (ver. 17) there
could be no difficulty in carrying out this plan. It seems very strange
that David should have left Ziklag apparently without the protection of
a single soldier; but what seems to us folly had all the effect of
consummate wisdom in the end; the passions of the Amalekites were not
excited by opposition or by bloodshed; their destructive propensities
were satisfied with destroying the town of Ziklag, and every person and
thing that could be removed was carried away unhurt. But for days to
come David could not know that their expedition had been conducted in
this unusually peaceful way; his imagination and his fears would picture
far darker scenes.
It must have been an awful moment to David--hardly less so than to Saul
when he saw the host of the Philistines near Jezreel--to reach what had
been recently so peaceful a home and find it a mass of smoking ruins. If
he had been disposed to congratulate himself on the success of the
policy which had dictated his escape from the land of Judah, and his
settling at Ziklag under protection of King Achish, how in one moment
must the rottenness of the whole plan have flashed upon him, and how
awed must he have been at the proof now so clearly afforded that the
whole arrangement had been frowned on by the God of heaven! What an
agony of suspense and distress he must have been in till more definite
news could be obtained; and what a burst of despair must have been heard
through the camp when it became known to his followers that the worst
that could be conceived had happened--that their houses were all
destroyed, their property seized, and their wives and children carried
off, to be disgraced, or sold, or butchered, as might suit the fancy of
their masters! And then, that remorseless massacre that they had lately
inflicted on the kinsmen of their invaders, how likely it would be to
exasperate their passions against them! What mercy would they show
whose neighbours had received no mercy? What a dreadful fate would these
helpless women and children be now experiencing!
It was probably one of the bitterest of the many bitter hours that David
ever spent. First there was the natural feeling of disappointment, after
a long and weary march, when the comforts of home had been so eagerly
looked forward to, and each man seemed already in the embrace of his
family, to find home utterly obliterated, and its place marked by
blackened ruins. Then there was the far more intense pang to every
affectionate heart, caused by the carrying off of the members of their
families; this, it appears, was the predominant feeling of the camp:
"the soul of the people was grieved, every man for his sons and for his
daughters." And somehow David was the person blamed, partly perhaps
through that hasty but unjust feeling that blames the leader of an
expedition for all the mishaps attending it, and partly also, it may be,
because Ziklag had been left utterly undefended. "What business had he
to march us all at the heels of these uncircumcised Philistines, as if
we ought to make common cause with them, only to march us back again
just as we came, to gain nothing there and to lose everything here!" To
all this was added a further element of excitement: it was not merely
calamities known and seen that worked in the minds of the people; the
gloom of dreaded but uncertain horrors helped to excite them still more.
Imagination would quickly supply the place of evidence in picturing the
situation of their wives and children. The feelings of the troops were
so fearfully excited against David that they spoke of stoning him. The
very men that had lately approached him with the beautiful salutation,
"Peace, peace be to thee, and peace be to thine helpers, for thy God
helpeth thee," now spoke of stoning him. How like the spirit and the
conduct of their descendants a thousand years later, shouting at one
time, "Hosanna to the Son of David," and but a few days after, "Crucify
Him, crucify Him." The state of David's feelings must have been all the
more terrible for the uneasy conscience he had in the matter, for he had
too much cause to feel that the dissembling policy which he had been
pursuing had caused another massacre, more frightful than that of the
priests after his visit to Nob.
It is probable that at this awful moment the mind of David was visited
by a blessed influence from above. The wail of woe that spread through
his camp, and the dismal ruins that covered the site of his recent home,
seem to have spoken to him in that tone of rebuke which the words of the
prophet afterwards conveyed, "Thou art the man!" Under great excitement
the mind works with great rapidity, and passes almost with the speed of
lightning from one mood to another. It is quite possible that under the
same electric shock, as we may call it, that brought David to a sense of
his sin he was guided back to his former confidence in the mercy and
grace of his covenant God. In one instant, we may believe, the miserable
hollowness of all those carnal devices in which he had been trusting
would flash upon his mind, and God--his own loving Father and covenant
God--would appear waiting to be gracious and longing for his return. And
now the prodigal son is in his Father's arms, weeping, sobbing,
confessing, but at the same time feeling the luxury of forgiveness,
rejoicing, trusting and delighting in His protection and blessing.
It may indeed be objected that we are proceeding too much on mere
imagination in supposing that David's return to a condition of holy
trust in God was effected in this rapid way. The view may be wrong, and
we do not insist on it. What we found on is the very short interval
between his last act of dissimulation in professing to desire to
accompany Achish to battle, and his manifest restoration to the spirit
of trust, evinced in the words, applied to him when the people spoke of
stoning him, "But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God" (ver.
6). These words show that he has got back to the true track at last, and
from that moment prosperity returns. What a blessed thing it was for him
that in that hour of utmost need he was able to derive strength from the
thought of God,--able to think of the Most High as watching him with
interest, and still ready to deliver him!
It was a somewhat similar incident, though not preceded by any such
previous backsliding--a similar manifestation of the magical power of
trust--that took place in the life of a more modern David, one who in
serving God and doing good to man had to encounter a life of wandering,
privation, and danger seldom surpassed--the African missionary and
explorer, David Livingstone. In the course of his great journey from St.
Paul de Loanda on the west coast of Africa to Quilimane on the east, he
had to encounter many an angry and greedy tribe, whom he was too poor to
be able to pacify by the ordinary method of valuable presents. On one
occasion, in the fork at the confluence of the river Loangwa and the
river Zambesi, he found one of those hostile tribes. It was necessary
for him to have canoes to cross--they would lend him only one. In other
respects they showed an attitude of hostility, and the appearances all
pointed to a furious attack the following day. Livingstone was troubled
at the prospect,--not that he was afraid to die, but because it seemed
as if all his discoveries in Africa would be lost, and his sanguine
hopes for planting commerce and Christianity among its benighted and
teeming tribes knocked on the head. But he remembered the words of the
Lord Jesus Christ, "Go ye therefore into all the world, and preach the
gospel unto every creature, and lo, I am with you alway, even unto the
end of the world." On this promise he rested, and steadied his
fluttering heart. "It is the word of a gentleman," he said, "the word of
one of the most perfect honour. I will not try, as I once thought, to
escape by night, but I will wait till to-morrow, and leave before them
all. Should such a man as I be afraid? I will take my observations for
longitude tonight, though it should be my last. My mind is now quite at
rest, thank God." He waited as he had said, and next morning, though the
arrangements of the natives still betokened battle, he and his men were
allowed to cross the river in successive detachments, without
molestation, he himself waiting to the last, and not a hair of their
heads being hurt. It was a fine instance of a believing Christian
strengthening himself in his God. When faith is genuine, and the habit
of exercising it is active, it can remove mountains.
The first result of the restored feeling of trust in David was his
giving honour to God's appointed ordinance by asking counsel of Him,
through Abiathar the priest, as to the course he should follow. It is
the first time we read of him doing so since he left his own country. At
first one wonders how he could have discontinued so precious a means of
ascertaining the will of God and the path of duty. But the truth is,
when a man is left to himself he cares for no advice or direction but
his own inclination. He is not desirous to be led; he wishes only to go
comfortably. Indifference to God's guidance explains much neglect of
prayer.
David has now made his application, and he has got a clear and decided
answer. He can feel now that he is treading on solid ground. How much
happier he must have been than when driving hither and thither, scheming
and dissembling, and floundering from one device of carnal wisdom to
another! As for his people, he can think of them now with far more
tranquillity; have they not been all along in God's keeping, and is it
not true that He that keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps?
We need not dwell at great length on the incidents that immediately
followed. No events could have fallen out more favourably. One-third of
his troops was indeed so exhausted that they had to be left at the brook
Besor. With the other four hundred he set out in search of the foe. The
special providence of God, so clearly and frequently displayed on this
occasion, provided a guide for David in the person of an Egyptian slave,
who, having fallen sick, had been abandoned by his master, and had been
three days and nights without meat or drink. Careful treatment having
resuscitated this young man, and a solemn assurance having been given
him that he would neither be killed nor given back to his master (the
latter alternative seems to have been as terrible as the other), he
conducts them without loss of time to the camp of the Amalekites. Each
day's journey brought them nearer and nearer to the great wilderness
where, some five or six hundred years before, their fathers had
encountered Amalek at Rephidim, and had gained a great victory over
them, after not a few fluctuations, through the uplifted arms of Moses,
the token of reliance on the strength of God. Through the same good hand
on David, the Amalekites, surprised in the midst of a time of careless
and uproarious festivity, were completely routed, and all but destroyed.
Every article they had stolen, and every woman and child they had
carried off, were recovered unhurt. Such a deliverance was beyond
expectation. When the Lord turned again the captivity of Ziklag, they
were like men that dream.
The happy change of circumstances was signalized by David by two
memorable acts, the one an act of justice, the other an act of
generosity. The act of justice was his interfering to repress the
selfishness of the part of his troops who were engaged in the fight with
Amalek, some of whom wished to exclude the disabled portion, who had to
remain at the brook Besor, from sharing the spoil. The objectors are
called "the wicked men and the men of Belial." It is a significant
circumstance that David had been unable to inspire all his followers
with his own spirit--that even at the end of his residence in Ziklag
there were wicked men and men of Belial among them. No doubt these were
the very men that had been loudest in their complaints against David,
and had spoken of stoning him when they came to know of the calamity at
Ziklag. Complaining men are generally selfish men. They objected to
David's proposal to share the spoil with the whole body of his
followers. Their proposal was especially displeasing to David at a time
when God had given them such tokens of undeserved goodness. It was of
the same sort as the act of the unforgiving servant in the parable, who,
though forgiven his ten thousand talents, came down with unmitigated
ferocity on the fellow-servant that owed him an hundred pence.
The act of generosity was his distribution over the cities in the
neighbourhood of the spoil which he had taken from the Amalekites. If he
had been of a selfish nature he might have kept it all for himself and
his people. But it was "the spoil of the enemies of the Lord." It was
David's desire to recognise God in connection with this spoil, both to
show that he had not made his onslaught on the Amalekites for personal
ends, and to acknowledge, in royal style, the goodness which God had
shown him. That it was an act of policy as well as a recognition of God
may be readily acknowledged. Undoubtedly David was desirous to gain the
favourable regard of his neighbours, as a help toward his recognition
when the throne of Israel should become empty. But we may surely admit
this, and yet recognise in his actions on this occasion the generosity
as well as the godliness of his nature. He was one of those men to whom
it is more blessed to give than to receive, and who are never so happy
themselves as when they are making others happy. The Bethel mentioned in
ver. 27 as first among the places benefited can hardly be the place
ordinarily known by that name, which was far distant from Ziklag, but
some other Bethel much nearer the southern border of the land. The most
northerly of the places specified of whose situation we are assured was
Hebron, itself well to the south of Judah, and soon to become the
capital where David reigned. The large number of places that shared his
bounty was a proof of the royal liberality with which it was spread
abroad.
And in this bounty, this royal profusion of gifts, we may surely
recognise a fit type of "great David's greater Son." How clearly it
appeared from the very first that the spirit of Jesus Christ exemplified
His own maxim which we have just quoted, "It is more blessed to give
than to receive." Once only, and that in His infancy, when the wise men
laid at His feet their myrrh, frankincense, and gold, do we read of
anything like a lavish contribution of the gifts of earth being given to
Him. But follow Him through the whole course of His earthly life and
ministry, and see how just was the image of Malachi that compared Him to
the sun--"the Sun of Righteousness with healing in His wings." What a
gloriously diffusive nature He had, dropping gifts of fabulous price in
every direction without money and without price! "Jesus went about in
all Galilee" (it was now the turn of the north to enjoy the benefit),
"teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom,
and healing all manner of diseases and all manner of sickness among the
people." Listen to the opening words of the Sermon on the Mount; what a
dropping of honey as from the honeycomb we have in those beatitudes,
which so wonderfully commend the precious virtues to which they are
attached! Follow Jesus through any part of His earthly career, and you
find the same spirit of royal liberality. Stand by Him even in the last
hour of His mortal life, and count His deeds of kindness. See how He
heals the ear of Malchus, though He healed no wounds of His own. Listen
to Him deprecating the tears of the weeping women, and turning their
attention to evils among themselves that had more need to be wept for.
Hear the tender tones of His prayer, "Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do." Observe the gracious look He casts on the thief
beside Him in answer to his prayer--"Verily I say unto thee, this day
shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." Mark how affectionately He provides
for His mother. See Him after His resurrection saying to the weeping
Mary, Woman, why weepest thou? Count that multitude of fishes which He
has brought to the nets of His disciples, in token of the riches of
spiritual success with which they are to be blessed. And mark, on the
day of Pentecost, how richly from His throne in glory He sheds down the
Holy Spirit, and quickens thousands together with the breath of
spiritual life. "Thou hast ascended on high, Thou hast led captivity
captive, Thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also,
that the Lord God might dwell among them."
It is a most blessed and salutary thing for you all to cherish the
thought of the royal munificence of Christ. Think of the kindest and
most lavish giver you ever knew, and think how Christ surpasses him in
this very grace as far as the heavens are above the earth. What
encouragement does this give you to trust in Him! What a sin it shows
you to commit when you turn away from Him! But remember, too, that Jesus
Christ is the image of the invisible God. Remember that He came to
reveal the Father. Perhaps we are more disposed to doubt the royal
munificence of the Father than that of the Son. But how unreasonable is
this! Was not Jesus Christ Himself, with all the glorious fulness
contained in him, the gift of God--His unspeakable gift? And in every
act of generosity done by Christ have we not just an exhibition of the
Father's heart? Sometimes we think hardly of God's generosity in
connection with His decree of election. Leave that alone; it is one of
the deep things of God; remember that every soul brought to Christ is
the fruit of God's unmerited love and infinite grace; and remember too
what a vast company the redeemed are, when in the Apocalyptic vision, an
early section of them--those that came out of "the great
tribulation"--formed a great multitude that no man could number.
Sometimes we think that God is not generous when He takes away very
precious comforts, and even the most cherished treasures of our hearts
and our homes. But that is love in disguise; "What I do thou knowest not
now, but thou shalt know hereafter." And sometimes we think that He is
not generous when He is slow to answer our prayers. But He designs only
to encourage us to perseverance, and to increase and finally all the
more reward our faith. Yes, truly, whatever anomalies Providence may
present, and they are many; whatever seeming contradictions we may
encounter to the doctrine of the exceeding riches of the grace of God,
let us ascribe all that to our imperfect vision and our imperfect
understanding. Let us correct all such narrow impressions at the cross
of Christ. Let us reason, like the Apostle: "He that spared not His own
Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also
freely give us all things?" And let us feel assured that when at last
God's ways and dealings even with this wayward world are made plain, the
one conclusion which they will go to establish for evermore is--that GOD
IS LOVE.