The account resumes
It’s been a year (The Tidings, December 2014) since we have discussed David and Jonathan together.
When we last left the story, David had fled from Saul in Naioth1in Ramah (1 Sam 19:19). David had been with Samuel, saw Saul chase him, even to the old prophet’s dwelling place, and then ran back to Gibeah to be with Jonathan. Yet, when David told Jonathan that Saul was again trying to kill him, Jonathan refused to believe it. His father had made an oath — how could he break it so quickly? With the words “there is but a step between me and death,” David brought the seriousness of the situation to his friend’s attention.
As Jonathan heard these words, perhaps he realized the spiritual state of his friend. The promise of kingship felt so distant. The God’s oft-received providential care felt like it was not applicable. David was terrified –– and Jonathan could see it. When he saw this fear, Jonathan knew that his friend was in desperate need of support. Thus, Jonathan pledged that he would do whatever David needed him to do in order to find out the mind of his father (1Sam 20:4). From there, David revealed a plan to Jonathan:
“And David said unto Jonathan,
Behold, to morrow is the new moon, and I should not fail to sit with the king at meat: but let me go, that I may hide myself in the field unto the third day at even. If thy father at all miss me, then say, David earnestly asked leave of me that he might run to Bethlehem his city: for there is a yearly sacrifice there for all the family. If he say thus, It is well; thy servant shall have peace: but if he be very wroth, then be sure that evil is determined by him” (1Sam 20:5-7).
David’s plan was essentially a good one — it was almost guaranteed to do exactly what he wanted it to do. David wanted Jonathan to see firsthand that Saul had broken his oath and was once again ready to do whatever it took to kill the son of Jesse. This plan was a brilliant way of bringing about that goal; in the past few days, Saul had essentially tried to kill David at every opportunity that he had.
When throwing the javelin didn’t work, Saul followed David to his house. When capturing him at his house didn’t work, Saul chased David to Ramah and the house of the prophet. When that didn’t work, David was certain that Saul would follow him back to Gibeah and try to kill him at the upcoming feast of the new moon. If he wasn’t there, clearly, Saul would want to know why he wasn’t. If the excuse came from Jonathan, then Jonathan would easily be able to see Saul’s reaction towards missing an opportunity to eliminate his target. If Saul wasn’t worried about David’s absence, then both David and Jonathan would know that the situation had changed. But, if he grew frustrated and full of wrath, then Jonathan would be convinced that Saul’s oath had been broken.
The plan itself was excellent, and it was well designed to do what David wanted it to do — he had likely spent the journey from Ramah to Gibeah planning it out. (Not that it took too long — the two were within a few miles of each other). Nevertheless, despite all of its good qualities, there is something about it that once again reveals David’s present state of mind: it’s based entirely around a lie.
David’s plan revolved around Jonathan telling his father that David had earnestly requested to go up to Bethlehem for a yearly sacrifice — the problem is that David actually did not seem to have a feast to attend, and he fully didn’t intend to go up to Bethlehem. In fact, he very clearly said to Jonathan that he planned on hiding out in the field for three days:
“And David said unto Jonathan, Behold, tomorrow is the new moon, and I should not fail to sit with the king at meat: but let me go, that I may hide myself in the field unto the third day at even” (1Sam 20:5).
When David revealed his plan to Jonathan, he wanted Jonathan to say that he had gone up to Bethlehem, even when going to Bethlehem was not what he planned at all! Later in the record, it would appear as though this was exactly what he did. When the plan was put into action, David didn’t leave Jonathan to go to Bethlehem, instead, he went out into the field:
“So David hid himself in the field: and when the new moon was come, the king sat him down to eat meat” (1 Sam 20:24).
Thus began David’s time of hiding in the field. When Jonathan later came to alert him to Saul’s response, this was the same place that Jonathan found him — in the field (1 Sam 20:35). As far as can be seen, it would fairly certainly appear as though David spent this entire three day period out in the field. He didn’t go home and he didn’t celebrate a yearly sacrifice in Bethlehem. The entire plan was based upon a lie.
Lying for God
When studying this record, one is left to wonder how it was that two spiritually based men —men who were so often examples for us — chose to deliberately act upon a lie. David’s part in the lie can partly be excused, or rather, understood, when his desperate spiritual state can be recognized. But how can Jonathan’s part in the lie be explained, especially considering that he was so often the spiritual leader between the two men, and he was such a strong man of principle. He held to his principles even if it put his life in jeopardy. What was it that convinced him to take part in this lie?
Perhaps an explanation can be found in some of the other incidents in Scripture. Throughout Scripture, there are occasionally characters which appear to lie and are actually commended by God for doing so. One of example of this is the Hebrew midwives at the time of Moses’ birth:
“But the midwives feared God, and did not as the king of Egypt commanded them, but saved the men children alive. And the king of Egypt called for the midwives, and said unto them, Why have ye done this thing, and have saved the men children alive? And the midwives said unto Pharaoh, Because the Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women; for they are lively, and are delivered ere the midwives come in unto them. Therefore God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied, and waxed very mighty” (Exod 1:17-20).
In this story, it would seem fairly clear that the Hebrew midwives lied to Pharaoh. They feared God and wanted to preserve the Hebrew children — thus, they refused to kill them. However, when they came before Pharaoh to explain what they had done, they lied, saying that the Hebrew women were able to deliver too quickly and the midwives were not able to come to them and kill the child. Because of what they did, God blessed them. In another famous incident, Rahab lied about the two Israelite spies who were in her house.
“And the king of Jericho sent unto Rahab, saying, Bring forth the men that are come to thee, which are entered into thine house: for they be come to search out all the country. And the woman took the two men, and hid them, and said thus, There came men unto me, but I wist not whence they were: and it came to pass about the time of shutting of the gate, when it was dark, that the men went out: whither the men went I wot not: pursue after them quickly; for ye shall overtake them” (Josh 2:3-5).
Once again, it was the same type of situation. Rahab lied to save the lives of God’s people. A few verses later, she explained to the men that she had a fear of God (Josh 2:8-11). Finally, because of what she did, she was actually blessed by God and protected, while the rest of Jericho crumbled (Josh 2:14, 18-20).
These two stories have a few important aspects in common:
- They are both about various people who lied
- These people did so for the purpose of saving God’s people
- The rescuers were motivated by Godly fear
- As a result of their action, the people who lied were blessed
Interestingly enough, Jonathan was in the same situation. Certainly, it cannot be known for sure, but perhaps when Jonathan was thinking through David’s plan, he was able to see himself following in the footsteps of these two prior incidents. He possibly realized that his circumstances were very similar — he would be lying to save one of God’s people, and, as was clearly indicated by his encouraging words to David, he was motivated by Godly fear. Nevertheless, while this may have been Jonathan’s motivation, and while this may have been a righteous action at that time, may we pray that we are never in a situation like the ones we have described. As far as we know, in our dispensation, the Lord Jesus demands total honesty of his followers. These were not simple matters of trying not to insult someone, or trying to calm someone’s temper. These were situations in which a believer’s life was in jeopardy. If we find ourselves attempting to use these situations to justify our own desire for deceit, may we seriously and soberly assess the situation to see if it truly does bear parallels to the ones above. More often than not, it won’t.
A scary problem
Indeed, our God calls us to lives of total honesty: “Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds” (Col 3:9): “Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour: for we are members one of another” (Eph 4:25). May all of those who speak to us always feel certain that our “yes” truly means “yes” and that we are men and women of integrity.
And thus, while Jonathan perhaps had a Godly motivation for going along with David’s plan and, while he likely understood why it would be allowed by God, this lie was the beginning of a serious problem for David. While the lie may not have appeared to have any immediate consequences, it had a major impact on David himself. Throughout the rest of his time escaping from Saul, David continually used deceit. When he came to Ahimelech and the priests in Nob, he told them that he was on a special mission for the king: “And David said unto Ahimelech the priest, The king hath commanded me a business, and hath said unto me, Let no man know any thing of the business whereabout I send thee” (1 Sam 21:2). This was clearly untrue. Later in the same chapter, he used deceit when he appeared before Achish, feigning himself to be mad: “And he changed his behaviour before them, and feigned himself mad in their hands” (1 Sam 21:13). Finally, when he later ended up dwelling with the Philistines, he constantly lied to Achish about the battles which he fought. “And David and his men went up, and invaded the Geshurites, and the Gezrites, and the Amalekites:… And David smote the land, and left neither man nor woman alive, and took away the sheep, and the oxen, and the asses, and the camels, and the apparel, and returned, and came to Achish. And Achish said, Whither have ye made a road to day? And David said, Against the south of Judah, and against the south of the Jerahmeelites, and against the south of the Kenites… And Achish believed David” (1 Sam 27:8-12).
Perhaps the most terrible of all of these uses of deceit was David’s attempt to cover up his sin with Bathsheba.
Raw humanity
Perhaps the lesson should be clear: There have been extreme circumstances in which God has blessed those who have protected His people through their lies. Those circumstances are so extreme, may we pray that we are never confronted with them. Indeed, for those of us who live more “normal” lives, where we aren’t around believers whose vitality is in jeopardy, may we stay as honest as we can. Indeed, sometimes even though our motivation may we right, we could be complicit in the development of a terrible problem — such as what began here with David, and ultimately culminated in sending Uriah to the forefront of the battle.
Finally, bringing all of these points together, perhaps one of the most powerful things that comes from this story is David’s raw humanity. So often we see David as a rock. We see him as a pillar of faith, and as a man whose belief was almost untouchable. Indeed, he was a man of faith and a man of righteousness — but at the same time, as this story shows us, he was a man who was scared, alone, and beginning to feel momentarily unsure about his trust in his God.
The David in this chapter is the same David who stood up in total faith and slew the giant. The David in this chapter is the same David who won major victories against the Philistines. But at the same time, the David in this chapter — as in all the other chapters — is a David who is entirely human. He is a man who, while full of trust and confidence in his God, has moments in which he isn’t sure what to do and moments in which he isn’t sure that he can continue. He has moments when it feels as though his faith is crumbling and believing almost feels as though it is too much effort.
This is one of those moments.
This is one of the moments in which we are reminded that this remarkable character had his moments of weakness too. Just as we sometimes struggle to believe and struggle to trust that God is working all things together for good, so did David. May we remember that, because at times, his faith can sometimes seem so unattainable and so mighty. May we remember that even he too had moments where he failed. But like him, in those moments where we don’t know what to do, may we find help and support in friends like Jonathan — brethren whose motivation is found in what is true and just and lovely. Though Jonathan may have collaborated with David in the lie, his motivation was pure, and as we’ll see in the next article, he sought to refocus David on God’s immovable promises.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One