SAMUEL - Week 4
I said I was going to be nice to David this week…
And I will be. Mostly.
After last week’s exploration of David’s historical footprint — asking what archaeology and biblical scholarship can tell us about the real man behind the royal portrait — this week’s blog gives us a welcome return to the David of the text.
In 1 Samuel 20–26, David is not yet king. He’s not yet victorious.
He’s not even safe.
He’s in hiding, constantly on the move, and making decisions that reveal something crucial about his character and calling.
These chapters give us a David in exile — one shaped not by victory but by waiting. Not by coronation but by crisis.
Let’s begin with the inrtruiging story in 1 Samuel 24. Saul, in pursuit of David, enters a cave alone to relieve himself. The Hebrew phrase used לְהָסֵךְ אֶת־רַגְלָיו (l’hasekh et-raglav), literally “to cover his feet”, is a vivid euphemism that most scholars understand as a polite way to describe a bodily function. It’s not just comic relief; it’s a literary setup. In this moment of vulnerability, the hunter becomes the hunted.
David’s men see the opportunity as a divine gift:
“Here is the day of which the Lord said to you, ‘I will give your enemy into your hand, and you shall do to him as it seems good to you.’” (24:4).
David creeps forward, blade in hand — and cuts off a corner of Saul’s robe.
Symbolically, this is powerful. The robe represents kingship (15:27-28), and David now holds a piece of that power in his hand. And yet, he is immediately conscience-stricken.
“The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my lord, the Lord’s anointed, to raise my hand against him; for he is the Lord’s anointed” (24:6)
David chooses restraint. He steps outside the cave and calls to Saul not with accusation but with honour:
“See, my father, see the corner of your cloak in my hand... I have not sinned against you, yet you are hunting me to take my life” (24:11).
It is a profound moment — not just of personal morality, but of theological trust. David refuses to take by force what he believes God must give in Their own time.
A few chapters later in 1 Samuel 25, we meet a very different David — one who has just been insulted by a man named Nabal and is storming off to take revenge. He’s angry, ready to wipe out an entire household.
And then comes Abigail. With humility, wisdom, and boldness. She intercepts David and says:
“The Lord will certainly make my lord a sure house, because my lord is fighting the battles of the Lord; and evil shall not be found in you as long as you live” (25:28).
Her words stop David in his tracks. “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who sent you to meet me today!” (25:32).
David listens. He turns back.
The moment is not just a moral victory — it’s a turning point. Abigail’s voice, like a prophet’s, reminds David of who he is and the kind of king he is meant to be.
These stories show us a David still becoming. He is not yet enthroned, but he is already being tested — by power, by injustice, by the urge to act in haste. And in each story, the invitation is the same: to wait, to trust, and to lead with integrity rather than impulse.
Naturally, he isn’t perfect and there are cracks that we can see. David lies to Ahimelek in chapter 21, and Saul’s resulting slaughter of the priests at Nob in chapter 22 is devastating. David survives by pretending to be mad in Gath — not exactly a triumphant strategy. But even these moments of ambiguity show a figure navigating complexity rather than avoiding it.
He’s not perfect. He’s not yet a king. But he is learning to trust God even when everything else is uncertain.
So yes, this week, I’m being kind to David.
Because in the cave, and on the road to Nabal’s house, and even in the wilderness of waiting, we see something admirable: not just David’s cleverness or charisma, but his willingness to be shaped.
He is, in these chapters, a man choosing to be led by God — even when the shortcut to power is within reach.