19:18 How Many Charioteers?

19:18 How Many Charioteers?

The Lord can both reverse the fortunes of the poor and rich (1 Sam 2:6) and confirm the hardness of heart of the rebellious and reprobate (1 Sam 2:25).

The hapless Eli, now in his advanced years, had more than he could contend with in his two strong-willed sons. To their earlier callous treatment of the Israelites who came bringing offerings to the house of God (1 Sam 2:13–16) the men now added sexual promiscuity (1 Sam 2:22; compare Ex 38:8). Such ritual prostitution, as practiced among their Canaanite neighbors, was strictly forbidden in Israel (Num 25:1–5; Deut 23:17; Amos 2:7–8).

Eli finally challenged the riotous and autocratic conduct of his two sons, but the rebuke fell on deaf ears: the men were determined to do what they were determined to do (1

Sam 2:25). What followed, then, was another instance of divine judicial hardening. Just as the Pharaoh of Israel’s oppression in Egypt defiantly refused any invitations to repent, even though God mercifully sent him one plague after another as a sign to that same effect, so God had finally decided in this case that he would end Eli’s sons’ lives: the decision was irrevocable.

Was this unfair or sudden? Hardly. God must have been calling these men to change for many years, but they, like Pharaoh, squandered these times of mercy and opportunities for change until time was no longer available. Moreover, the double jeopardy rule was in vogue here, for those who serve in the ministry of the things of God are doubly accountable, both for themselves and for those who look up to them for teaching and example (Jas 3:1). They had thereby sinned against the Lord. If the case seems to draw more judgment more swiftly, then let the fact that these men were under the double jeopardy rule be factored in and the appropriateness of the action will be more than vindicated.

See also comment on exodus 9:12.

6:19 Death for Just Looking into the Ark?

See comment on 2 samuel 6:6–7.

8–12 Did God Want Israel to Have a King?

What makes this section a hard saying is not the fact that it contains what some have unfairly labeled the ramblings of a disappointed prophet. Instead, it is the fact that up

until very recent times, most nonevangelical Old Testament scholars strongly believed that they detected an ambivalent attitude toward kingship in the narratives of 1 Samuel 8–12, in light of the covenantal tone of 1 Samuel 11:14–12:25.

It has been fairly common to find 1 Samuel 8–12 characterized as a collection of independent story units or tradition complexes, some being promonarchial and others antimonarchial. This division was supposedly evidenced in different attitudes and responses to the idea of a monarchy and kingship in Israel. Generally an antimonarchial orientation was attributed to 1 Samuel 8:1–21, 10:17–27 and 12:1–25, while a promonarchial stance was seen in 1 Samuel 9:1–10:16 and 11:1–15. Endorsing this analysis of the material would leave us with a dilemma: how could Scripture both approve and reprove the concept of a monarchy?

A second problem in the debate surrounding 1 Samuel 8–12 is the sequencing of events presented in the book. It has been widely alleged that the present sequence is an artificial device imposed by a late editor as a result of the growth of tradition.

Finally, many scholars have said that the antimonarchial sections show indications of editorial revisions arising from Deuteronomic influence; this argument is based on a late dating of Deuteronomy in the postexilic period of the fifth or fourth century b.c.

Each of these three allegations must be answered. There is no doubt that a tension of sorts does exist in the narratives of 1 Samuel 8–12. The prospect of establishing a kingship in Israel elicited numerous reservations, and these are fairly aired in 1 Samuel 8:1–21, 10:17–27 and 12:1–25.

Yet it cannot be forgotten that kingship was also within the direct plan and permission of God. God had divulged that part of his plan as far back as the days of Moses (Deut 17:14–20). Accordingly, when Samuel presented Saul to the people, it was as the one whom the Lord had chosen (1 Sam 10:24). Saul’s appointment was the outcome of the twice-repeated guidance that Samuel received: “Listen to all that the people are saying” (1 Sam 8:7, 22). In fact, 1 Samuel 12:13 specifically says, “See, the Lord has set a king over you.”

But here is the important point. These five chapters of 1 Samuel cannot be neatly divided into two contrasting sets of narratives; the ambivalence is present even within the units that have been labeled as corresponding to one side or the other! The problem, in fact, is to explain this ambivalence at all. What is the cause for this love-hate attitude toward kingship in Israel?

My answer is the same as Robert Vannoy’s.1 [1 Robert Vannoy, Covenant Renewal at Gilgal (Cherry Hill, N.J.: Mack Publishing, 1978), p. 228.] It is the covenantal relationship expressed in 1 Samuel 11:14–12:25 that explains this ambivalence. The issue, then, is not the presence of kingship so much as it is the kind of kingship and the reasons for wanting a monarchy.

There is no question but that the presence of a king in Israel was fully compatible with Yahweh’s covenant with Israel. What hurt Samuel and the Lord was the people’s improper motive for requesting a king in the first place: they wanted to “be like all the other nations” (8:20) and have a king to lead them when they went out to fight. This was tantamount to breaking the covenant and rejecting Yahweh as their Sovereign (8:7; 10:19). To act in this manner was to forget God’s provision for them in the past.

Hadn’t he protected them and gone before them in battle many times?

Since the people were so unfaithful in their motivation for desiring a king, it was necessary to warn them about “the manner of the king” (literal translation of misûpat\ hammelek—8:11). If what the people wanted was a contemporary form of monarchy, then they had better get used to all the abuses and problems of kingship as well as its splendor.

Five serious problems with the contemporary forms of kingship are cited in 1 Samuel 8:11–18. That these issues were real can be attested by roughly contemporaneous documents from Alalakh and Ugarit.2 [2 I. Mendelson, “Samuel’s Denunciation of Kingship in Light of Akkadian Documents from Ugarit,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 143 (1956): 17.] The problems they would experience would include a military draft, the servitude of the populace, widespread royal confiscation of private property, taxation and loss of personal liberty.

This delineation of “the manner of the king” served to define the function of kings in the ancient Near East. But over against this was the gathering that took place at Mizpah (1 Sam 10:17–27). Here Samuel described “the manner of the kingdom”

(literal translation of misûpat\ hammƒlukaÆh—10:25). In so doing Samuel began to resolve the tension between Israel’s improper reasons for desiring a king, their misconceptions of the king’s role and function, and Yahweh’s purpose in saying that he also desired Israel to have a king. Samuel’s definition of “the manner of the kingdom” clearly distinguished Israelite kingship from the kingship that was practiced in the surrounding nations of that day.

In Israel, the king’s role was to be compatible with Yahweh’s sovereignty over the nation and also with all the laws, prescriptions and obligations of the covenant given to the people under Moses’ leadership. Thus “the manner of the kingdom” was to be normative for the nation of Israel rather than “the manner of the king.”

The issue of the sequencing of the narratives is less difficult. Given the tensions of the time—the various attitudes toward kingship and the legitimacy of establishing it—one can easily see how the text does reflect the back-and-forth unfolding of the process at various geographic locations and on different days. Each phase of the negotiations dramatized the seesaw nature of this battle between those holding out for the sovereignty of Yahweh and those wanting a more visible and contemporaneous model of kingship.

The most critical problem in connection with the sequencing of the events is the relationship between 1 Samuel 11:14–15 and 1 Samuel 10:17–27, particularly in connection with the statement in 1 Samuel 11:14, “Come, let us go to Gilgal and there reaffirm the kingship.”

This phrase constitutes the most compelling evidence for the argument that several accounts have been put together in these chapters. The simplest, and best, explanation for the meaning of this debated phrase, however, is that the reference is not to Saul, but to a renewal of allegiance to Yahweh and his covenant. It is a call for the renewal ceremony that is described in greater detail in 1 Samuel 12. This explanation makes the most sense and makes possible the best harmonization of the parallel accounts of Saul’s accession to the throne in 1 Samuel 10:17–27 and 11:15.

The third and final objection concerns the alleged Deuteronomic influence on the so-called antimonarchial sections. Bear in mind that those who raise this objection also date Deuteronomy to the fifth or fourth century b.c. rather than attributing it to Moses

as it properly should be.

Their argument runs into several problems of its own. Long ago Julius Wellhausen (1844–1918) noted its basic flaw: for all of Deuteronomy’s alleged antimonarchial views, it had put forth a positive “law of the king” (Deut 17:14–20) long before any of the Israelites thought of having a king! Furthermore, the pictures of David, Hezekiah and Josiah in 1 and 2 Kings (other books often alleged to be Deuteronomic in viewpoint and influence) were likewise promonarchial.

There is no doubt that Deuteronomy had a profound influence on the events described in 1 Samuel 8–12, but none of them can be shown to have resulted from a late editorializing based on an exilic or postexilic revisionist view of how kingship had come about in Israel.

Thus we conclude that none of these three problems can be used as evidence for a lack of unity, coherence or singularity of viewpoint. Most important of all, the covenantal perspective of 1 Samuel 11:14–12:25 provides the best basis for the unity and historical trustworthiness of these accounts as they are know today.

13:13–14 Would God Have Established Saul’s Kingdom?

How was it possible for Samuel to say that Saul’s house could have had perpetuity over Israel when Genesis 49:10 had promised it to the tribe of Judah (not Benjamin, from which Saul hailed) long before Saul’s reign or downfall? Of course, the Lord had planned to place a king over Israel, as Deuteronomy 17:14 had clearly taught. But if the family that was to wield the scepter was from Judah, how could God—in retrospect, to Saul’s disappointment—say that Saul could indeed have been that king?

The solution to this problem is not to be found in Samuel’s vacillating attitudes toward Saul, for it is clear that Saul was also God’s choice from the very beginning (1 Sam 9:16; 10:1, 24; 12:13).

The Lord had allowed the choice of the people to fall on one whose external attributes made an immediate positive impression on people. Saul’s was strictly an earthly kingdom, with all the pageantry and showmanship that impress mortals.

Unfortunately, Saul was not disposed to rule in humble submission to the laws, ordinances and commandments that came from above. As one final evidence of his attitude, he had refused to wait for the appointment he had made with Samuel. As he went ahead and took over the duties of a priest, in violation of his kingly position, God decided that he would not keep his appointment with him as king.

The type of kingship Samuel had instituted under the direction of God was distinctive.

It was a theocracy; the Israelite monarchy was to function under the authority and sovereignty of Yahweh himself. When this covenantal context was violated, the whole

“manner of the kingdom” (1 Sam 10:25) was undermined.

While this explanation may suffice for what happened in the “short haul,” how shall we address the issue of God’s having promised the kingship to the family of Judah, rather than to the Benjamite family of Kish? Would God have actually given Saul’s family a portion or all of the nation, had Saul listened and kept the commandments of God? Or did the writer, and hence God also, regard the two southern tribes of Judah and

Benjamin as one? In that case, perhaps what had been promised to Judah could have gone to Saul just as easily as to David.

There is evidence from Scripture itself that the tribes of Benjamin and Judah were regarded as one tribe: 1 Kings 11:36 says, “I will give one tribe to [Solomon’s] son so that David my servant may always have a lamp before me in Jerusalem.” If these two could later be regarded as “one,” no objection can be made to doing so earlier.

Ultimately, this is one of those questions that are impossible to resolve fully, since we are asking for information that belongs to the mind of God. However, it seems important that we be able to offer several possible solutions.

Another possible solution is that it may well have been that God fully intended that Judah, and eventually the house of David, would rule over Israel and Judah. But it is also possible that Saul’s family would have been given the northern ten tribes of Israel after the division of the kingdom, which God in his omniscience of course could anticipate. That would resolve the question just as easily.

The best suggestion, however, is that God had agreed to appoint Saul king in deference to the people’s deep wishes. Though the Lord had consented, this was not his directive will; he merely permitted it to happen. Eventually, what the Lord knew all along was proved true: Saul had a character flaw that precipitated his demise.

Nevertheless, it is possible to describe Saul in terms of what he could have been, barring that flaw, in the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the Israelites.

A combination of these last two views is possible—that in his permissive will God would have given Saul the northern ten tribes in perpetuity without denying to the house of Judah the two southern tribes, according to his promise in Genesis 49:10. An interesting confirmation of this possibility can be seen in 1 Kings 11:38, where King Jeroboam is promised an enduring dynasty, in a parallel to the promise God had made to King David. Since the promise to Jeroboam in no way replaced the long-standing promise to the tribe of Judah and the house of David, it is similar to God’s “might-have-been” to Saul. God offered the ten northern tribes to Jeroboam just as he had offered them to Saul.

One final possibility is that Saul was given a genuine, though hypothetical, promise of a perpetual dynasty over (northern) Israel. However, the Lord surely knew that Saul would not measure up to the challenge set before him. God had chosen Saul because he wanted him to serve as a negative example in contrast to David, whose behavior was so different. This, then, set the stage for the introduction of the legitimate kingship as God had always intended it.

See also comment on 1 samuel 8–12.

15:11 Does God Change His Mind?

See comment on genesis 6:6; 1 samuel 15:29.

15:18 Completely Destroy Them!

A chief objection to the view that the God of the Old Testament is a God of love and

mercy is the divine command to exterminate all the men, women and children belonging to the seven or eight Canaanite nations. How could God approve of blanket destruction, of the genocide of an entire group of people?

Attempts to tone down the command or to mitigate its stark reality fail from the start.

God’s instructions are too clear, and too many texts speak of consigning whole populations to destruction: Exodus 23:32–33; 34:11–16; and Deuteronomy 7:1–5; 20:16–18.

In most of these situations, a distinctive Old Testament concept known as h\erem is present. It means “curse,” “that which stood under the ban” or “that which was dedicated to destruction.” The root idea of this term was “separation”; however, this situation was not the positive concept of sanctification in which someone or something was set aside for the service and glory of God. This was the opposite side of the same coin: to set aside or separate for destruction.

God dedicated these things or persons to destruction because they violently and steadfastly impeded or opposed his work over a long period of time. This “dedication to destruction” was not used frequently in the Old Testament. It was reserved for the spoils of southern Canaan (Num 21:2–3), Jericho (Josh 6:21), Ai (Josh 8:26), Makedah (Josh 10:28) and Hazor (Josh 11:11).

In a most amazing prediction, Abraham was told that his descendants would be exiled and mistreated for four hundred years (in round numbers for 430 years) before God would lead them out of that country. The reason for so long a delay, Genesis 15:13–16

explains, was that “the sin of the Amorites [the Canaanites] has not yet reached its full measure.” Thus, God waited for centuries while the Amalekites and those other Canaanite groups slowly filled up their own cups of condemnation by their sinful behavior. God never acted precipitously against them; his grace and mercy waited to see if they would repent and turn from their headlong plummet into self-destruction.

Not that the conquering Israelites were without sin. Deuteronomy 9:5 makes that clear to the Israelites: “It is not because of your righteousness or your integrity that you are going in to take possession of their land; but on account of the wickedness of these nations.”

These nations were cut off to prevent the corruption of Israel and the rest of the world (Deut 20:16–18). When a nation starts burning children as a gift to the gods (Lev 18:21) and practices sodomy, bestiality and all sorts of loathsome vices (Lev 18:25, 27–30), the day of God’s grace and mercy has begun to run out.

Just as surgeons do not hesitate to amputate a gangrenous limb, even if they cannot help cutting off some healthy flesh, so God must do the same. This is not doing evil that good may come; it is removing the cancer that could infect all of society and eventually destroy the remaining good.

God could have used pestilence, hurricanes, famine, diseases or anything else he wanted. In this case he chose to use Israel to reveal his power, but the charge of cruelty against God is no more deserved in this case than it is in the general order of things in the world where all of these same calamities happen.

In the providential acts of life, it is understood that individuals share in the life of their families and nations. As a result we as individuals participate both in our families’ and

nations’ rewards and in their punishments. Naturally this will involve some so-called innocent people; however, even that argument involves us in a claim to omniscience which we do not possess. If the women and children had been spared in those profane Canaanite nations, how long would it have been before a fresh crop of adults would emerge just like their pagan predecessors?

Why was God so opposed to the Amalekites? When the Israelites were struggling through the desert toward Canaan, the Amalekites picked off the weak, sick and elderly at the end of the line of marchers and brutally murdered these stragglers.

Warned Moses, “Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and cut off all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of God” (Deut 25:17–18).

Some commentators note that the Amalekites were not merely plundering or disputing who owned what territories; they were attacking God’s chosen people to discredit the living God. Some trace the Amalekites’ adamant hostility all through the Old Testament, including the most savage butchery of all in Haman’s proclamation that all Jews throughout the Persian Empire could be massacred on a certain day (Esther 3:8–

11). Many make a case that Haman was an Amalekite. His actions then would ultimately reveal this nation’s deep hatred for God, manifested toward the people through whom God had chosen to bless the whole world.

In Numbers 25:16–18 and 31:1–18 Israel was also told to conduct a war of extermination against all in Midian, with the exception of the prepubescent girls, because the Midianites had led them into idolatry and immorality. It was not contact with foreigners per se that was the problem, but the threat to Israel’s relationship with the Lord. The divine command, therefore, was to break Midian’s strength by killing all the male children and also the women who had slept with a man and who could still become mothers.

The texts of Deuteronomy 2:34; 3:6; 7:1–2 and Psalm 106:34 are further examples of the principle of h\erem, dedicating the residents of Canaan to total destruction as an involuntary offering to God.

See also comment on numbers 25:7–13; 2 kings 6:21–23.

15:22 Does the Lord Delight in Sacrifices?

Though some texts call for burnt offerings or daily offerings to God (for example, Ex 29:18, 36; Lev 1–7), others appear to disparage any sacrifices, just as 1 Samuel 15:22

seems to do. How do we reconcile this seeming contradiction?

God derives very little satisfaction from the external act of sacrificing. In fact, he complains, “I have no need of a bull from your stall or of goats from your pens. … If I were hungry I would not tell you, for the world is mine, and all that is in it” (Ps 50:9, 12).

Indeed, David learned this same lesson the hard way. After his sin with Bathsheba and the rebuke of Nathan the prophet, David confessed, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps 51:17).

After the priority of the heart attitude had been corrected, it was possible for David to

say, “Then there will be righteous sacrifices, whole burnt offerings to delight you; then bulls will be offered on your altar” (Ps 51:19).

Samuel’s harangue seconds the message of the writing prophets: Perfunctory acts of worship and ritual, apart from diligent obedience, were basically worthless both to God and to the individual.

This is why the prophet Isaiah rebuked his nation for their empty ritualism. What good, he lamented, were all the sacrifices, New Moon festivals, sabbaths, convocations and filing into the temple of God? So worthless was all this feverish activity that God said he was fed up with it all (Is 1:11–15). What was needed, instead, was a whole new heart attitude as the proper preparation for meeting God. Warned Isaiah, “‘Wash and make yourselves clean. … Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool’” (Is 1:16, 18). Then real sacrifices could be offered to God.

Jeremiah records the same complaint: “Your burnt offerings are not acceptable; your sacrifices do not please me” (Jer 6:20). So deceptive was the nation’s trust in this hollow worship that Jeremiah later announced that God had wanted more than sacrifices when he brought Israel out of Egypt (Jer 7:22). He had wanted the people to trust him. It was always tempting to substitute attendance at God’s house, heartless worship or possessing God’s Word for active response to that Word (Jer 7:9–15, 21–

26; 8:8–12).

No less definitive were the messages of Hosea (Hos 6:6) and Micah (Mic 6:6–8). The temptation to externalize religion and to use it only in emergency situations was altogether too familiar.

Samuel’s rebuke belongs to the same class of complaints. It was couched in poetry, as some of those listed above were, and it also had a proverbial form. The moral truth it conveys must be understood comparatively. Often a proverb was stated in terms that call for setting priorities. Accordingly one must read an implied “this first and then that.” These “better” wisdom sayings, of course, directly point to such a priority. What does not follow is that what is denied, or not called “better,” is thereby rejected by God. Arguing on those grounds would ignore the statement’s proverbial structure.

God does approve of sacrificing, but he does not wish to have it at the expense of full obedience to his Word or as a substitute for a personal relationship of love and trust.

Sacrifices, however, were under the Old Testament economy. Animal sacrifices are no longer necessary today, because Christ was our sacrifice, once for all (Heb 10:1–18).

Nevertheless, the principle remains the same: What is the use of performing outward acts of religion if that religious activity is not grounded in an obedient heart of faith?

True religious affection for God begins with the heart and not in acts of worship or the accompanying vestments and ritual!

See also comment on psalm 51:16–17, 19.

15:29 God Does Not Change His Mind?

Here in 1 Samuel 15 we have a clear statement about God’s truthfulness and unchanging character. But elsewhere in the Old Testament we read of God repenting

or changing his mind. Does God change his mind? If so, does that discredit his truthfulness or his unchanging character? If not, what do these other Old Testament texts mean?

It can be affirmed from the start that God’s essence and character, his resolute determination to punish sin and to reward virtue, are unchanging (see Mal 3:6). These are absolute and unconditional affirmations that Scripture everywhere teaches. But this does not mean that all his promises and warnings are unconditional. Many turn on either an expressed or an implied condition.

The classic example of this conditional teaching is Jeremiah 18:7–10: “If at any time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be uprooted, torn down and destroyed, and if that nation I warned repents of its evil, then I will relent and not inflict on it the disaster I had planned. And if at another time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be built up and planted, and if it does evil in my sight and does not obey me, then I will reconsider the good I had intended to do for it.”

This principle clearly states the condition underlying most of God’s promises and threats, even when it is not made explicit, as in the case of Jonah. Therefore, whenever God does not fulfill a promise or execute a threat that he has made, the explanation is obvious: in all of these cases, the change has not come in God, but in the individual or nation.

Of course some of God’s promises are unconditional for they rest solely on his mercy and grace. These would be: his covenant with the seasons after Noah’s flood (Gen 8:22); his promise of salvation in the oft-repeated covenant to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and David; his promise of the new covenant; and his promise of the new heaven and the new earth.

So what, then, was the nature of the change in God that 1 Samuel 15:11 refers to when he says, “I am grieved that I have made Saul king, because he has turned away from me and has not carried out my instructions”? If God is unchangeable, why did he

“repent” or “grieve over” the fact that he had made Saul king?

God is not a frozen automaton who cannot respond to persons; he is a living person who can and does react to others as much, and more genuinely, than we do to each other. Thus the same word repent is used for two different concepts both in this passage and elsewhere in the Bible. One shows God’s responsiveness to individuals and the other shows his steadfastness to himself and to his thoughts and designs.

Thus the text affirms that God changed his actions toward Saul in order to remain true to his own character or essence. Repentance in God is not, as it is in us, an evidence of indecisiveness. It is rather a change in his method of responding to another person based on some change in the other individual. The change, then, was in Saul. The problem was with Saul’s partial obedience, his wayward heart and covetousness.

To assert that God is unchanging does not mean he cannot experience regret, grief and repentance. If unchangeableness meant transcendent detachment from people and events, God would pay an awful price for immutability. Instead, God enters into a relationship with mortal beings that demonstrates his willingness to respond to each person’s action within the ethical sphere of their obedience to his will.

When our sin or repentance changes our relationship with God, his changing responses

to us no more affect his essential happiness or blessedness than Christ’s deity affected his ability to genuinely suffer on the cross for our sin.

See also comment on genesis 6:6; jonah 4:1–2.

16:1–3 Does God Authorize Deception?

On the face of it, God appears to be telling Samuel to lie or, at the very least, to be deceptive. Is this an indication that under certain circumstances God approves of lying in order to accomplish some higher good?

It is always wrong to tell a lie. Never does the Scripture give us grounds for telling either a lie or a half-truth. The reason for this is because God is true and his nature is truth itself. Anything less than this is a denial of him as God.

But what about the divine advice given to Samuel in this text when he objects to anointing David when Saul was already so jealous that he would kill the prophet Samuel should he be so presumptuous as to anoint someone else in his place? Is God’s advice a mere “pretext” as some commentators conclude? Or is it tacit approval for persons in a tight spot to lie?

The most important word in this connection is the word how. Samuel did not question whether he should go or even if he should anoint the one God had in mind; he just wanted to know how such a feat could be carried out. The divine answer was that he was to take a sacrifice and that would serve as a legitimate answer to Saul, or any other inquirer, as to what he was doing in those parts, so obviously out of his regular circuit of places to minister. He was there to offer a sacrifice. Should Saul have encountered Samuel and asked him what he was doing in those parts at that time, Samuel could correctly answer, “I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.”

Some will complain that this is a half-truth. And isn’t a half-truth the same as speaking or acting out a lie? It is at this point where the discussion of John Murray3 [3 John Murray, Principles of Conduct: Aspects of Biblical Ethics (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1957), pp. 139–41.] is so helpful.

Murray observed that Saul had forfeited his right to know all the truth, but that did not mean that Samuel, or anyone else for that matter, ever had, or has, the right to tell a lie. Everything that Samuel spoke had to be the truth. But Samuel was under no moral obligation in this situation to come forth with everything that he knew. Only when there are those who have a right to know and we deliberately withhold part or all of the information does it qualify as a lie or does the half-truth become the living or telling of a lie.

We use this principle in life when a young child prematurely asks us for the facts of life or a sick or elderly person inquires of a medical doctor what is wrong with them and if they will get well. The answer in all these cases is to answer truthfully without elaborating on those details which the person is not ready for by reason of their age or the possible impact it might have on their desire to rally and get well.

Some may complain that this seems to be saying that we cannot deceive anyone in our words, but that we have the right to deceive them through our actions. This is not what I am saying. It was God’s right to give Samuel a second mission, the offering of a sacrifice, which was not a deception, but a routine act he performed. Saul did not have the right to know all the other actions Samuel would perform while carrying out that

mission—God does not “deceive” us when he does not choose to disclose all that he knows!

The only exceptions to this rule against deception are to be found in war zones or in playing sports. For example, nations that engage in war count on the fact that some of the movements of the enemy will be carried out to deliberately mislead and throw their opposition off balance. Likewise, if I go into a football huddle and the team captain says, “Now, Kaiser, I want you to run a fake pattern around right end pretending you have the ball,” I do not object by saying, “Oh, no you don’t; give me the ball or nothing. I’m an evangelical and I have a reputation for honesty to protect.” It is part of the sport that there will be accepted types of dissimulation that take place.

Truth is always required in every other situation. Only when someone forfeits that right to know everything may I withhold information; but under no circumstances may I speak an untruth. Thus when the Nazis of the Third Reich in Germany during World War II were asking if someone was hiding Jews, the correct procedure would have been to say as little as possible, all of which had to be true, while carefully hiding those Jews as best as one could.

See also comment on exodus 1:15–21; 3:18; joshua 2:4–6.

16:10–11 Did Jesse Have Seven or Eight Sons?

See comment on 1 chronicles 2:13–15.

16:14 An Evil Spirit from the Lord?

Just as the prophet Samuel anointed David as the next king, King Saul became bereft of the Spirit of God and fell into ugly bouts of melancholia, which were attributed to an evil spirit sent from the Lord.

The Spirit of God had overwhelmed Saul when he had assumed the role of king over the land (1 Sam 10:6, 10; 11:6). Exactly what the Spirit’s presence with Saul entailed is not explained, but it seems to have included the gift of government, the gift of wisdom and prudence in civil matters, and a spirit of fortitude and courage. These gifts can be extrapolated from the evidence that after Saul was anointed king, he immediately shed his previous shyness and reticence to be in the public eye. It is obvious that Saul did not have a natural aptitude for governing, for if he had, why did he hide among the baggage when he knew already what the outcome would be? But when the Spirit of God came upon him in connection with the threatened mutilation of the citizens of Jabesh Gilead (1 Sam 11), and Saul sent out word that all able-bodied men were to report immediately for battle, the citizens of Israel were so startled that this had come from the likes of Saul that they showed up in force. God had suddenly gifted him with the “Spirit of God” (1 Sam 11:6), and Saul was a great leader for twenty years (1 Sam 14:47–48).

But all of this was lost as suddenly as it had been gained—the Spirit had removed his gift of government.

But what was the evil spirit mentioned here and in 1 Samuel 18:10 and 19:9? The ancient historian Josephus explained it as follows: “But as for Saul, some strange and

demonical disorders came upon him, and brought upon him such suffocations as were ready to choke him” ( Antiquities 6.8.2). Keil and Delitzsch likewise attributed Saul’s problem to demon possession. They specified that this

was not merely an inward feeling of depression at the rejection announced to him, …

but a higher evil power, which took possession of him, and not only deprived him of his peace of mind, but stirred up the feelings, ideas, imagination, and thoughts of his soul to such an extent that at times it drove him even into madness. This demon is called “an evil spirit [coming] from Jehovah” because Jehovah sent it as a punishment.4

[4 Johann Karl Friedrich Keil and Franz Delitzsch, Biblical Commentary on the Books of Samuel (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1950), p. 170.]

A second suggestion is that this evil spirit was a messenger, by analogy with the situation in 1 Kings 22:20–23. This unspecified messenger did his work by the permission of God.

A third suggestion is that this evil spirit was a “spirit of discontent” created in Saul’s heart by God because of his continued disobedience.

Whatever the malady was, and whatever its source, one of the temporary cures for its torments was music. David’s harp-playing would soothe Saul’s frenzied condition, so that he would once again gain control of his emotions and actions (1 Sam 16:14–23).

All this happened by the permission of God rather than as a result of his directive will, for God cannot be the author of anything evil. But the exact source of Saul’s torment cannot be determined with any degree of certitude. The Lord may well have used a messenger, or even just an annoying sense of disquietude and discontent. Yet if Saul really was a believer—and I think there are enough evidences to affirm that he was—

then it is difficult to see how he could have been possessed by a demon. Whether believers can be possessed by demons, however, is still being debated by theologians.

17:12–14 Did Jesse Have Seven or Eight Sons?

See comment on 1 chronicles 2:13–15.

17:49 Who Killed Goliath?

In 1 Samuel 17 and 21:9 it is claimed that David is the one who killed Goliath; however, in 2 Samuel 21:19 it says that Elhanan killed him. Both cannot be right, can they? And who was Lahmi, mentioned in 1 Chronicles 20:5?

While some have tried to resolve the contradiction by suggesting that Elhanan may be a throne name for David, a reference to David, under any name, in a summary of exploits by David’s mighty men appears most peculiar.

The bottom line on this whole dispute is that David is the one who slew Goliath and Elhanan slew the brother of Goliath, as it says in 1 Chronicles 20:5. The problem, then, is with the 2 Samuel 21:19 text. Fortunately, however, we can trace what the original wording for that text was through the correctly preserved text in 1 Chronicles 20:5.

The copyist of the 2 Samuel 21:19 text made three mistakes: (1) He read the direct

object sign that comes just before the name of the giant that Elhanan killed, namely Lahmi, as if it were the word “Beth,” thereby getting “the Bethlehemite,” when the

“Beth” was put with “Lahmi.” (2) He also misread the word for “brother” (Hebrew

<aµh\) as the direct object sign (Hebrew <et_) before Goliath, thereby making Goliath the one who was killed, since he was now the direct object of the verb, instead, as it should have been, “the brother of Goliath.” (3) He misplaced the word “Oregim,”

meaning “weavers,” so that it yielded “Elhanan son of Jaare-Oregim,” a most improbable reading for anyone: “Elhanan the son of the forests of weavers.” The word for “weavers” should come as it does in 1 Chronicles 20:5 about the spear being “a beam/shaft like a weaver’s rod.”5 [5 See J. Barton Payne, “1 Chronicles,” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, vol. 4, ed. Frank E. Gaebelein (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1988), pp. 403–4; Gleason L. Archer, Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1982), pp. 178–79.]

Elhanan gets the credit for killing Lahmi, the brother of Goliath; but David remains the hero who killed Goliath.

17:55–58 Why Did Saul Ask David’s Identity?

Saul’s questions about the identity of David in 1 Samuel 17 create a rather difficult problem in light of 1 Samuel 16, especially 1 Samuel 16:14–23. It would appear from chapter 16 that by the time of David’s slaying of Goliath Saul had already been introduced to David and knew him quite well.

The traditional way of resolving this dilemma in nonevangelical circles is to suppose that these two accounts stem from independent traditions. Thus the confusion over whether David’s debut at court preceded his conquest of the Philistine is unnecessary, since the stories come from different sources and do not intend to reflect what really happened so much as teach a truth. However, this resolution of the matter is not attractive to most who take the claims of the Bible more straightforwardly. The difficulty continues: how could Saul—and Abner too—be ignorant about this lad who had been Saul’s armor-bearer and musician?

Some have blamed Saul’s diseased and failing mental state. On this view, the evil spirit from God had brought on a type of mental malady that affected his memory. Persons suffering from certain types of mania or insanity often forget the closest of their friends.

Others have argued that the hustle and bustle of court life, with its multiplicity of servants and attendants, meant that Saul could have easily forgotten David, especially if the time was long between David’s service through music and his slaying of Goliath.

Yet a long period of time does not appear to have separated these events.

Furthermore, David was a regular member of Saul’s retinue (1 Sam 16:21).

A third option is to suggest that Saul was not asking for David’s identity, which he knew well enough. Instead he was attempting to learn what his father’s social position and worth were, for he was concerned what type of stock his future son-in-law might come from. (Remember, whoever was successful in killing Goliath would win the hand of Saul’s daughter, according to the terms of Saul’s challenge.) While this might explain Saul’s motives, does it explain Abner’s lack of knowledge? Or must we posit that he also knew who David was but had no idea what his social status and lineage were? Possibly!

The most plausible explanation, and the one favored by most older commentators, is that the four events in the history of Saul and David in 1 Samuel 16–18 are not given in chronological order. Instead, they are transposed by a figure of speech known as hysterologia, in which something is put last that according to the usual order should be put first. For example, the Genesis 10 account of the dispersion of the nations comes before the cause of it—the confusion of languages at the tower of Babel in Genesis 11.

The fact that the order has been rearranged for special purposes in 1 Samuel 16–18 can be seen from the fact that the Vaticanus manuscript of the Septuagint deletes twenty-nine verses in all (1 Sam 17:12–31 and 17:55–18:5).

E. W. Bullinger suggested that the text was rearranged in order to bring together certain facts, especially those about the Spirit of God.6 [6 E. W. Bullinger, Figures of Speech (1898; reprint ed., Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1968), pp. 706–7.] Thus in 1 Samuel 16:1–13 David is anointed and the Spirit of God comes upon him. Then, in order to contrast this impartation of the Spirit of God with the removal of the Spirit from Saul, 1 Samuel 16:14–23 is brought forward from later history. In the straightforward order of events, Bullinger suggests, it should follow 18:9.

First Samuel 17:1–18:9 records an event earlier in the life of David, which is introduced here in a parenthetical way as an illustration of 1 Samuel 14:52. This section is just an instance of what 14:52 claims.

The whole section, therefore, has this construction:

A

16:1–13

David annointed. The Spirt comes on him.

B

16:14–23

Saul rejected. The Spirit departs from him. An evil spirit torments him.

A

17:1–18:9

David. An earlier incident in his life.

B

18:10–30

Saul. The Spirit departs and an evil spirit troubles him.

Thus the narration alternates between David and Saul, creating a didactic contrast between the Spirit of God and the evil spirit that tormented Saul. The focus is on the spiritual state of the two men, not the historical order of events.

All too frequently, the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings are given the label

“Historical Books” rather than the more correct label “Earlier Prophets.” They aim at

teaching lessons from the prophetic eye of inspiration rather than simply providing a chronicle of how events occurred in time and history.

That these texts appear in topical, rather than chronological, order is the best explanation, especially when we note how the theology of the text is embedded in it.

See also comment on genesis 11:1–9; 1 samuel 8

18:10; 19:9 An Evil Spirit from the Lord?

See comment on 1 samuel 16:14.

19:13 David’s House Has an Idol?

What is an idol doing in the house of David, a monotheist and the one through whom the line of Christ is to come? Where did his wife Michal lay her hands on such an item, no matter what good intentions she had of protecting her husband from her jealous father?

Michal’s ruse gave David time to flee from the soldiers who were sent to capture David, but that is not the point. Michal’s dummy is described as being one of the tƒraµ¸éÆm, “idols” or “household gods.” The word is always found in the plural form, and the idols were sometimes small enough to be tucked away in a camel’s saddle (Gen 31:19, 34–35), but here the idol seems to be man-sized, since Michal used it to simulate David’s presence in bed.

The fact that household gods or idols were part of Michal’s belongings, if not David’s as well, probably reflects a pagan inclination or ignorant use of the surrounding culture. It would appear that the narrator made a deliberate connection between Michal and Rachel, who hid the teraphim in her camel saddle in Genesis 31. Each woman deceived her father in the use of the teraphim and thereby demonstrated more love and attachment to her husband than to her father. If our estimate of Rachel was that the teraphim may not have been symbols of the person who held the will, that is, the rights to the inheritance, but were idols that would later have to be gotten rid of (Gen 35), then Michal, and David by implication, would be guilty of the same sin and in need of repentance and God’s forgiveness.

See also comment on genesis 31:34.

19:19–24 How Did Saul Prophesy?

Seeking a naturalistic explanation for the phenomenon of prophecy in the Old Testament, some have theorized that such powers derived from ecstatic experiences in which the prophet wandered outside his own consciousness during a period of artistic creation. One of the passages used to sustain such a thesis is 1 Samuel 19:19–24.

Quite apart from the issue of ecstasy in prophecy are two other matters. Could a king also be a prophet? And did the king really strip off all his clothes as a result of this powerful experience of prophesying?

The story told here is clear enough. In a jealous rage over David’s popularity and success, Saul was bent on capturing David. No doubt rumors were now spreading that Samuel had anointed David as king in place of the then-reigning Saul.

Saul sent three different groups of messengers to apprehend David, who had fled from Saul to join Samuel at his prophetic school at Ramah. All three groups encountered Samuel’s band of prophets prophesying. And each of the groups of messengers began to prophesy as well.

At last Saul had had enough and decided to go in search of David himself. While he was still on the way, however, the “Spirit of God” came on him; so he too prophesied.

Later, after coming to where the others were, he removed some of his clothing and lay in an apparent stupor the rest of that day and the following night.

Each of the three problems raised by this text deserves some response based on the meaning of certain words used in this context and other similar contexts.

It has been claimed that the Greeks thought artistic genius was always accompanied by a degree of madness; thus, those who prophesied must have similarly experienced

“ecstasy”—a word literally meaning “to stand apart from or outside oneself.”

Furthermore, it was argued that the behavior of the Canaanite prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel was just like that of earlier Israelite prophets.

But the verb to prophesy, as used in this context, does not mean “to act violently” or

“to be mad.” The Old Testament makes a clear distinction between the prophets of Canaan and those under the inspiration of God.

Only three Old Testament passages have been used as evidence that prophesying entailed a temporary madness and standing apart from oneself. These three passages, however, record the estimates of others rather than God’s estimates of prophets and the source of their inspiration. In 2 Kings 9:11, a young prophet sent by Elisha to anoint Jehu as king is called a “madman” ( mƒsûugaµ< ) by the soldiers who are sitting in Jehu’s barracks. Their label is hardly a statement from God or a source of normative teaching. The Bible simply records that that is what these men thought of prophets—

an attitude not altogether dissimilar from that held today by some about the clergy. A second text, Jeremiah 29:26, quotes a certain Shemaiah, then captive in Babylon, from a letter where he too opines: “Every man that is mad [ mƒsûugaµ< ] makes himself a prophet” (my translation). In the final text, Hosea 9:7, Hosea characterizes a point in Israel’s thinking by saying, “The prophet is considered a fool, the inspired man a maniac [ mƒsûugaµ< ].”

None of these three texts demonstrates that the verb to prophesy legitimately carries the connotation of madness. Instead, they simply show that many associated prophecy with madness in an attempt to stigmatize the work of real prophets. It was the ancient equivalent of the Elmer Gantry image of Christian ministers today!

As for Saul’s being “naked” all day and night, the term used might just as well refer to his being partially disrobed. It seems to be used with the latter meaning in Job 22:6, 24:7, Isaiah 58:7 and probably Isaiah 20:2–3, where Isaiah is said to have walked

“stripped and barefoot for three years.” Saul probably stripped off his outer garment, leaving only the long tunic beneath. The figure of speech involved here is synecdoche, in which the whole stands for a part. Thus, naked or stripped is used to mean “scantily

clad” or “poorly clothed.”

In an attempt to shore up the failing theory of ecstasy, some have pointed to 1 Samuel 19:24 as evidence that Saul was “beside himself”—again, the etymology of our word ecstasy. However, this will not work since the verb in verse 24 simply means “to put off” a garment (by opening it and unfolding it; the verb’s other meaning is “to expand, to spread out, to extend”). There is no evidence that it means “to stand beside oneself”

or anything like that.

What about the apparent stupor? Did Saul momentarily lose his sanity? While the three groups of messengers experienced a strong influence of the Spirit of God, it was Saul, we may rightfully conclude, who fell under the strongest work of the Spirit.

The Spirit fell more powerfully on Saul than on the messengers because Saul had more stubbornly resisted the will of God. In this manner, God graciously warned Saul that he was kicking against the very will of God, not just against a shepherd-boy rival. The overmastering influence that came on Saul was to convince him that his struggle was with God and not with David. His action in sending the three groups to capture David had been in defiance of God himself, so he had to be graphically warned. As a result, the king also, but unexpectedly, prophesied. So surprised were all around them that a proverb subsequently arose to characterize events that ran against ordinary expectations: “Is Saul also among the prophets?” (1 Sam 19:24). Kings normally did not expect to receive the gift of prophecy. But here God did the extraordinary in order to move a recalcitrant king’s heart to see the error of his ways.

The noun prophecy and verb to prophesy appear more than three hundred times in the Old Testament. Often outbursts of exuberant praise or of deep grief were connected with prophesying. But there seems to be no evidence for ecstasy as wild, uncontrollable enthusiasm that forced the individual to go temporarily mad or insane.

And if we dilute the meaning of ecstasy so as to take away the negative implications—

like those attached to the Greek’s theory that artists only drew, composed or wrote when temporarily overcome with madness—the term becomes so bland that it loses its significance. In that case we all might qualify to join the band of the prophets.

Certainly nothing in this text suggests the dancing, raving and loss of consciousness sometimes seen in contemporary extrabiblical phenomena.

See also comment on “When the Prophets Say, ‘The Word of the Lord Came to Me,’

What Do They Mean?” and daniel 12:8–10.

24:5 Why Was David Upset That He Had Cut Saul’s Clothing?

Why was David so upset with himself for merely cutting off a corner of King Saul’s robe? This does not sound as if it is any big deal.

David had a high regard for the fact that Saul was God’s anointed person holding the office of king. Saul’s anointing signified the election of God. Therefore, David vowed that he would do nothing to intervene to vindicate himself or to remove Saul from that office unless God did so.

The best explanation of David’s sudden pang of conscience was that he viewed the violation of Saul’s robe as equivalent to violating Saul’s very person. Since David held that the office that Saul occupied was something sacrosanct and from the Lord, even

this small token—taken as evidence that even though they had occupied the same cave together he had not tried to take Saul’s life—was itself blameworthy.

28:7–8, 14–16 What Did the Witch of Endor Do?

The problems raised by the account of Saul’s encounter with the witch of Endor in 1

Samuel 28 are legion! To begin with, spiritism, witches, mediums and necromancers (those who communicate with the dead) are not approved in Scripture. In fact, a number of stern passages warn against any involvement with or practice of these satanic arts. For example, Deuteronomy 18:9–12 includes these practices in a list of nine abominations that stand in opposition to revelation from God through his prophets. Exodus 22:18 denies sorceresses the right to live. Leviticus 19:26, 31 and 20:6, 27 likewise sternly caution against consulting a medium, a sorceress or anyone who practices divination. Those cultivating these arts were to be put to death—the community was not to tolerate them, for what they did was so heinous that it was the very antithesis of the revelation that came from God (see Jer 27:9–10).

But there are other issues as well. Did the witch of Endor really have supernatural powers from Satan, which enabled her to bring Samuel up from the dead? Or was Samuel’s appearance not literal, merely the product of psychological impressions?

Perhaps it was a demon or Satan himself that impersonated Samuel. Or perhaps the whole thing was a trick played on Saul. Which is the correct view? And how does such a view fit in with the rest of biblical revelation?

The most prevalent view among orthodox commentators is that there was a genuine appearance of Samuel brought about by God himself. The main piece of evidence favoring this interpretation is 1 Chronicles 10:13–14: “Saul died because he was unfaithful to the Lord; he did not keep the word of the Lord and even consulted a medium for guidance, and did not inquire of the Lord.” The Septuagint reading of this text adds: “Saul asked counsel of her that had a familiar spirit to inquire of her, and Samuel made answer to him.” Moreover, the medium must not have been accustomed to having her necromancies work, for when she saw Samuel, she cried out in a scream that let Saul know that something new and different was happening. That night her so-called arts were working beyond her usual expectations.

Then, too, the fact that Saul bowed in obeisance indicates that this probably was a real appearance of Samuel. What seems to have convinced Saul was the witch’s description of Samuel’s appearance. She reported that Samuel was wearing the characteristic

“robe” ( mƒ>éÆl). That was the very robe Saul had seized and ripped as Samuel declared that the kingdom had been ripped out of his hand (1 Sam 15:27–28).

Is Samuel’s statement to Saul in 1 Samuel 28:15 proof that the witch had brought Samuel back from the dead? The message delivered by this shade or apparition sounds as if it could well have been from Samuel and from God. Therefore, it is entirely possible that this was a real apparition of Samuel. As to whether Samuel appeared physically, in a body, we conclude that the text does not suggest that he did, nor does Christian theology accord with such a view. But there can be little doubt that there was an appearance of Samuel’s spirit or ghost. The witch herself, in her startled condition, claimed that what she saw was a “god” ( ƒloµhéÆm, 1 Sam 28:13) coming up out of the earth. The most probable interpretation of this term ƒloµhéÆm is the “spirit” of a deceased person. This implies an authentic appearance of the dead, but one that did not

result from her witchcraft. Instead, it was God’s final means of bringing a word to a king who insisted on going his own way.

Those who have argued for a psychological impression face two objections. The first is the woman’s shriek of horror in 1 Samuel 28:12. She would not have screamed if the spirit had been merely Saul’s hallucination, produced by psychological excitement. The second objection is that the text implies that both the woman and Saul talked with Samuel. Even more convincing is the fact that what Samuel is purported to have said turned out to be true!

As for the demon impersonation theory, some of the same objections apply. The text represents this as a real happening, not an impersonation. Of course Satan does appear as “an angel of light” (2 Cor 11:14), but there is no reason to suppose that this is what is going on here.

Our conclusion is that God allowed Samuel’s spirit to appear to give Saul one more warning about the evil of his ways.

One of the reasons believers are warned to stay away from spiritists, mediums and necromancers is that some do have powers supplied to them from the netherworld.

Whether the witch accomplished her feat by the power of Satan or under the mighty hand of God we may never know in this life. Of course, all that happens must be allowed or directed by God. Thus the question is finally whether it was his directive or permissive will that brought up Samuel. If it were the latter, did the witch apply for satanic powers, or was she a total fraud who was taught a lesson about the overwhelming power of God through this experience? It is difficult to make a firm choice between these two possibilities.

31:4 How Did Saul Die?

Who is telling the truth? The narrator of 1 Samuel 31 or the Amalekite of 2 Samuel 1:6–10? Or to put the question in another way: Did Saul commit suicide, or was he killed by this Amalekite, as he claimed, at Saul’s own request?

Although there have been attempts at harmonizing the two accounts, the effort always seems to fall short of being convincing. For example, as early as the first Christian century, Josephus tried to make the accounts fit each other. Josephus claimed ( Antiquities 6, 370–72 [xiv.7]) that after Saul’s armor-bearer refused to kill Saul, Saul tried to fall on his own sword, but he was too weak to do so. Saul turned and saw this Amalekite, who, upon the king’s request, complied and killed him, having found the king leaning on his sword. Afterward the Amalekite took the king’s crown and armband and fled, whereupon Saul’s armor-bearer killed himself.

While everything seems to fit in this harmonization, there is one fact that is out of line: the armor-bearer. The armor-bearer was sufficiently convinced of Saul’s death to follow his example (1 Sam 31:5). Thus, Josephus’s greatest mistake was in trusting the Amalekite. Also, it is most improbable that the Amalekite found Saul leaning on his sword, an unlikely sequel of a botched attempt at suicide.

It is my conclusion that Saul did commit suicide, a violation of the law of God, and that the Amalekite was lying in order to obtain favor with the new administration.

2 Samuel

1:6–10 How Did Saul Die?

See comment on 1 samuel 31:4.

6:6–7 Why Did God Destroy Uzzah?

Over the years, many have complained that God was unfair to kill Uzzah when he tried to protect the ark of God from damage or shame when the oxen stumbled and the ark slipped. Should not Uzzah have been praised for lunging forward to protect the ark of God?

There is no doubt that David’s intentions in bringing the ark to Jerusalem were noble and good. Now that his kingdom was established, he did not forget his earlier vow to return the ark to its rightful place of prominence. But what began as a joyful day quickly became a day of national grief and shame. Why?

A significant omission in 2 Samuel 6:1–3 sets the scene for failure. Previously when David needed counsel, for example when he was attacked by the Philistines, the text records that David “inquired of the Lord” (2 Sam 5:19, 23). But those words are sadly missing in 2 Samuel 6:1–3. Instead, we are told in the parallel account in 1 Chronicles 13:1–14 that David “conferred with each of his officers.”

There was no need to consult these men. God had already given clear instructions in Numbers 4:5–6 as to how to move the ark. It should be covered with a veil, to shield the holiness of God from any kind of rash intrusion, and then carried on poles on the shoulders of the Levites (Num 7:9).

God had plainly revealed his will, but David had a better idea—one he had learned from the pagan Philistines. He would put it on a “new cart” (2 Sam 6:3). However, God had never said anything about using a new cart. This was a human invention contrary to the will and law of God.

Thus David did things in the wrong way, following his own ideas or those of others instead of God’s ways. Surely this passage warns that it is not enough to have a worthy purpose and a proper spirit when we enter into the service of God; God’s work must also be performed in God’s way. Pursuing the right end does not automatically imply using the right means.

But why did God’s anger break out against Uzzah if David was at fault? The Lord had plainly taught that even the Kohathites, the Levite family designated to carry the ark,

“must not touch the holy things or they will die” (Num 4:15). Even if Uzzah were not a Kohathite or even a Levite, he still would know what the law taught in Numbers 4

and 7. God not only keeps his promises, but also fulfills his threats!

When the Philistines, who had no access to the special revelation of God, sinned by touching the ark and using a new cart to transport it, God’s anger did not burn against them (1 Sam 6). God is more merciful toward those less knowledgeable of his will than toward those who are more knowledgeable. This is why it will be more tolerable for

Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than it will be for those who personally witnessed the great acts of the Savior in Capernaum (Mt 11:23–24).

Uzzah’s motive, like David’s, was pure, but he disregarded the written Word of God, just as David did. Thus one sin led to another. Consulting one’s peers is no substitute for obeying God when he has spoken. Good intentions, with unsanctified minds, interfere with the kingdom of God. This is especially true of the worship of God and the concept of his holiness.

Because God is holy, he is free of all moral imperfections. To help mortals understand this better, a sharp line of demarcation was drawn between holy things and the common or profane. Our word profane means “before” or “forth from the temple.”

Thus all that was apart from the temple, where the holiness of God was linked, was by definition profane. However, Uzzah’s act made the holiness associated with the ark also profane and thereby brought disrepute to God as well.

It is unthinkable that God could condone a confusion or a diffusion of the sacred and the profane. To take something holy and inject into it the realm of the profane was to confuse the orders of God. Thus in 1 Samuel 6:19 seventy men of Beth Shemesh were killed for peering into the ark.

The situation with Uzzah can be contrasted with that of the Philistines in 1 Samuel 6:9.

These uncircumcised Gentiles also handled the ark of God as they carted it from city to city in what is now called the Gaza Strip, as they did when they prepared to send the ark back home to Israel on a cart. But where the knowledge of holy things had not been taught, the responsibility to act differently was not as high as it was for Uzzah, who should have known better.

In fact, in order to determine if the calamities that had struck each of the cities where the ark had gone (a calamity that was almost certainly an outbreak of the bubonic plague) was merely a chance happening unrelated to any divine wrath from the God of Israel, the Philistines rigged up an experiment that was totally against the grain of nature. They took two cows that had just borne calves, penned up the calves, and hitched these cows, who had never previously been hitched to a cart, to a new cart, and watched to see if against every maternal instinct in the animal kingdom the cows would be directed back to the territory of the Philistines. They were. The Philistines were convinced that what happened to them in the outbreak in each city during the seven months when the ark of God was in their midst was no chance or freak accident at all: it was the hand of God! And they had better not harden their hearts as the Egyptians did years ago (1 Sam 6:6).

The Philistines had enough sense for the holiness of God to use a new cart and to send back offerings of reparation, to the degree that they had any knowledge, but they were not judged for what they did not know about the distinction between the sacred and the common.

Another case of trivializing that which is holy can be seen in the brief reference to Nadab and Abihu offering strange fire on the altar of God (Lev 10:1–3). It is impossible to say whether the two sons of Aaron, the high priest, erred in the manner in which they lighted their fire-pans, the timing, or in the place of the offering. The connection with strong drink and the possibility of intoxication cannot be ruled out, given the proximity and discussion of that matter in the same context (Lev 10:8–11). If

that was the problem, then the drink may have impeded the sons’ ability to think and to act responsibly in a task that called for the highest degree of alertness, caution and sensitivity.

The offense, however, was no trivial matter. Nor was it accidental. There was some reversal of everything that had been taught, and what had been intended to be most holy and sacred was suddenly trivialized so as to make it common, trite and secular.

Exodus 30:9 had warned that there was to be no “other incense” offered on the altar to the Lord. From the phrase at the end of Leviticus 10:1, “which he did not command them” (literal translation), what was done was a clear violation of God’s command.

As a result fire comes from the presence of the Lord and consumed Nadab and Abihu.

Again, the fact that they are ministers of God makes them doubly accountable and responsible. Moses then used this as an occasion to teach a powerful lesson on the holiness and worship of God (Lev 10:3).

See also comment on 1 samuel 2:25.

6:20 Was David’s Public Dancing Indecent?

Was Michal correct in her estimate of David’s dancing in front of the ark of God as it was being brought to the tent David had prepared for it in his city? Or did she misinterpret David’s actions and purpose?

If David had expected his wife Michal, the daughter of Saul, to rejoice with him in the arrival of the ark of God in the capital city, he had a long wait coming. It is a real question if this ever was a happy marriage, for as Alter notes, “Until the final meeting between Michal and David, at no point is there any dialogue between them—an avoidance of verbal exchange particularly noticeable in the Bible, where such a large part of the burden of narration is taken up by dialogue. When the exchange finally comes, it is an explosion.”1 [1 See Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981), p.

123.]

In one sentence Michal’s sarcastic words tell us what she thinks of David’s actions. To her way of thinking, the king had demeaned himself by divesting himself of his royal robes and dressing only in a “linen ephod” (2 Sam 6:14). With abandoned joy David danced before the Lord as the ark, properly borne this time on the shoulders of the Levites, went up to Jerusalem.

Michal did not even deign to go out on the streets to be part of the festivities, but she watched from a window (2 Sam 6:16). Obviously, there was more bothering Michal than David’s undignified public jubilation. Her words about David “distinguish[ing]

himself” are further punctuated by her disdainfully emphasizing the fact three times over that the king had “disrob[ed]” (the final clause of 2 Sam 6:20 literally reads, “as any vulgar fellow, disrobing, would disrobe”). Was David’s dress, or lack thereof, as scandalous as Michal made it out to be? Though some have thought that they detected overtones of orgiastic rituals in preparation for sacred marriage rites (in, for example, the presence of slave girls), such suggestions are overdrawn if we are to take seriously David’s rejoinders to Michal in 2 Samuel 6:21–22. David speaks of his election and appointment to the office of king by God. He does rub in the fact that God chose him over her father Saul. But as far as David was concerned, it was not an issue of public nudity or scandalous dress, but a matter of humiliating himself before the Lord.

Furthermore, he danced not for the “slave girls,” but for the Lord. The “linen ephod”

consisted probably of a linen robe used normally by the Levites.

10:18 How Many Charioteers?

See comment on 1 chronicles 19:18.

12:7–8 Was David Right to Take Concubines?

See comment on 2 samuel 20:3.

12:14–18 Should Children Die for Their Parents’ Sins?

See comment on deuteronomy 24:16.

12:21–23 What Happened to David and Bathsheba’s Son?

What are the prospects of the dead in the Old Testament? And what shall we say about those who die in infancy and thus have never heard about the wonderful grace of our Lord? Is their future gloomy and dark, without hope? These are some of the questions raised by this passage on the child born to David and Bathsheba as a result of their adulterous act.

Several passages in the Old Testament show that death is not the absolute end of all life. For example, 1 Samuel 28:15–19 says that upon the death of Saul and his sons in battle the next day, they would join Samuel, who was already dead, yet who here was conscious and able to speak.

Likewise, David affirmed his confidence that he would one day go to meet his deceased son; in the meantime, it was impossible for his son to come and join him back on earth. Surely this implies that the child still consciously and actually existed, even though it was impossible for him to transcend the boundaries set by death.

If David’s expectation was to see God and to be with God after death, he believed that his son would also be in the presence of God, even though that son never had the opportunity to hear about the gospel or to respond to its offer of grace. Apparently, the grace of God has made provisions that go beyond those that apply to all who can hear or read about God’s revelation of his grace in his Son Jesus.

Those psalms of David in which the dead are said to lack any knowledge or remembrance of God are highly poetical and figurative expressions of how unnatural and violent death is. Death will continue to separate the living from each other and from the use of their bodies until Christ returns to restore what has been lost. Psalms 6:5 and 30:9 indicate how central the act of praising God was to the total life of the individual and the congregation. But death would seem, according to the views expressed by the psalmists in these texts, to interrupt that flow of praise to God. Isn’t it better, David continues, for people to be alive so that they can praise God? “Who praises you from the grave?” The dead are without the ability to lift praises to God.

That seems to be David’s burden.

Neither can Ecclesiastes 9:5–6 count against the position we have taken here. To claim that “the dead know nothing” is not to deny any hope beyond the grave. The point of Ecclesiastes is limited to what can be observed from a strictly human point of view,

“under the sun.” Its statement that the dead “have no further reward” is reminiscent of Jesus’ words, “As long as it is day [while we are still alive], we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work” (Jn 9:4).

In 2 Samuel 12:23 David does not take the perspective of this life—as some of these other passages do—but the perspective of an eternity with God. And from that perspective, there is much to hope for.

David took comfort in the hope that God would take this little one to himself. He left the child, therefore, to the grace of God, expressing his hope of rejoining that child in the future. There is life after death, even for infants who die before they have seen any, or many, days.

14:27; 18:18 Did Absalom Have Three Sons or None?

Some scholars find an irresolvable conflict between 14:27 and 18:18, usually taking the latter to be the authentic, original and earlier text. Is this resolution of the problem the correct one?

The most reasonable supposition is that the three sons are left unnamed, while contrary to usual convention their sister Tamar’s name is given, because the three boys died in childhood. There is nothing in the text or from external records that would support this thesis at this time, but this is the only explanation that will satisfy all the evidence.

It may have been this sorrowful event that later motivated Absalom to build a monument for himself, so that his own name would be remembered. Absalom observed that he had no sons, therefore the need for the monument.

20:3 Was David Right to Take Concubines?

The institution of concubinage seems to many of us as wrong and as evil as the institution of slavery. And so it was from an Old Testament point of view as well.

Genesis 2:21–24 presents us with God’s normative instructions for marriage: one man was to be joined to one woman so as to become one flesh.

Polygamy appears for the first time in Genesis 4:19, when Lamech became the first bigamist, marrying two wives, Adah and Zillah. No other recorded instances of polygamy exist from Shem to Terah, the father of Abraham (except for the episode in Gen 6:1–7).

Was polygamy (with its correlative concubinage) ever a lawful practice in the Old Testament? No permission can be recited from the text for any such institution or practice. To support it, one could appeal only to illustrations in the lives of a rather select number of persons. None of these examples has the force of normative theology.

The Bible merely describes what some did; it never condones their polygamy, nor does it make their practices normative for that time or later times.

From the beginning of time up to 931 b.c., when the kingdom was divided after Solomon’s day, there are only fifteen examples of polygamy in the Old Testament: Lamech, the “sons of God” in Genesis 6:1–7, Abraham’s brother Nahor, Abraham, Esau, Jacob, Gideon, Jair, Ibzan, Abdon, Samson, Elkanah, Saul, David and Solomon.

In the divided monarchy, Rehoboam, Abijah, Ahab and Jehoram all were bigamists, and possibly Joash (depending on how we interpret “for him” or “for himself” in 2

Chron 24:2–3). This gives us a total of nineteen instances, and among them thirteen were persons of absolute power whom no one could call into judgment except God.

The despotic way in which the rulers of Genesis 6:1–7 took as many wives as they pleased is censured by Scripture, as are those who indulged in adulterous and polygamous behavior prior to the flood. The law of Moses also censures those who violate God’s prescription of monogamous marriage. Scripture does not, however, always pause to state the obvious or to moralize on the events that it records.

Those who say the Old Testament gave direct or implied permission for polygamy usually point to four passages: Exodus 21:7–11, Leviticus 18:18, Deuteronomy 21:15–

17 and 2 Samuel 12:7–8. Each of these texts has had a history of incorrect interpretation.2 [2 For more details, see Walter C. Kaiser Jr., Toward Old Testament Ethics (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1983), pp. 184–90.]

There is no suggestion of a second marriage with “marital rights” in Exodus 21:10, for the word translated “marital rights” should be rendered “oil” or “ointments.” The text says that a man who has purchased a female servant (perhaps to fulfill a debt) must continue to provide for her if he proposes marriage and then decides not to consummate it. Leviticus 18:18 does not imply that a man may marry a second wife so long as she is not a sister to the one he already has. Instead, it prohibits his marrying his wife’s sister during the lifetime of his wife, since having her sister as a rival would vex her. Likewise, Deuteronomy 21:15–17 legislates the rights of the firstborn, regardless of whether that child is the son of the preferred wife or of the wife who is not loved. To contend, as some do, that legislation on rights within polygamy tacitly condones polygamy makes about as much sense as saying that Deuteronomy 23:18

approves of harlotry since it prohibits bringing the wages earned by harlotry into the house of the Lord for any vow!

Finally, 2 Samuel 12:7–8 supplies no encouragement to polygamy when it says that all that Saul had, including his wives, were to be David’s possessions. Nowhere in all the lists of David’s wives are Saul’s two wives listed; hence the expression must be a stereotypic formula signifying that everything in principle was turned over for David’s disposition.

Malachi 2:14 says that God is a witness to all weddings and contends for the “wife of

[our] youth,” who is all too frequently left at the altar in tears because of the violence caused by divorce (or any of marriage’s other perversions). Jeremiah had to rebuke the men of his own generation who were “neighing for another man’s wife” (Jer 5:8). Had polygamy been customarily or even tacitly approved, this text of Jeremiah would have had to record “another man’s wives.” Furthermore, these men’s sin would have had a ready solution: they should look around and acquire several new wives on their own, instead of seeking those who were already taken! No, polygamy never was God’s order for marriage in the Old Testament. David sinned, therefore, in having a plurality of wives. But what of his putting the ten concubines under guard after his son Absalom

had violated them in a palace coup?

The answer this time is one of political expediency of that day. If David had had relations with any one of them and she conceived, it would be difficult to know whether the son was his or Absalom’s. And he dare not turn these women out in the streets, for that would have violated the rules of compassion and could have produced another contender to the throne, since all who had any contact with the king, even as a concubine, could lay some claim to the throne in the future.

Thus, David took the only course he could under such circumstances. There is no doubt about it: he had sown to the wind and now he must reap the whirlwind. God had never changed his mind about the appropriateness of one wife for one husband to become one flesh.

See also comment on genesis 6:1–4; proverbs 5:15–21.

21:1–9 Why Were Saul’s Descendants Killed?

The background for this episode goes all the way back to the days of Joshua. Under the pretense of being from afar, the inhabitants of the town of Gibeon in Canaan, known variously as Hivites (Josh 9:7) and Amorites (2 Sam 21:2), precipitously won a treaty from Joshua and the elders, who later discovered that these people were not from a great distance, but in fact lived right in the path of the ongoing conquest.

Reluctantly Joshua and the elders conceded that they had sworn an oath before Yahweh that they would do these people no harm. So the Gibeonites remained untouched in Israel, though they were required to serve as hewers of wood and drawers of water for the house of God (see Josh 9 for details).

Psalm 15:4 makes it a point of honor to keep one’s oath, even when it hurts. But in his zeal for Israel Saul had violated Joshua’s ancient oath and brought “blood-guiltiness”

on the whole land. Apparently, some dissatisfaction with the Gibeonites had provided Saul with a pretext to vent his prejudices against these non-Israelites who lived in their midst. And the Lord, who inspects all that is said and done on earth, required justice to be done. Thus it was that even as late as David’s reign a famine fell on all the land for three successive years. Having asked the Lord why they were experiencing this continual drought, David was told of the injustice that had been done to the Gibeonites. Whether David had known about this wrongdoing previously is not told.

When David consulted with the Gibeonites, asking what they wished by way of compensation for Saul’s attack on them, they demanded that seven of Saul’s sons be killed and displayed in Saul’s hometown and capital city, Gibeah. David agreed to their request.

What made David agree to such a hideous retribution, and how could that compensate the Gibeonites? And why did it satisfy divine justice (since the rains came after the act had been completed)? Does God favor human sacrifice?

The Mosaic law clearly prohibits human sacrifice (Lev 18:21; 20:2). But the text we are considering does not depict the killing of Saul’s descendants as an offering to anyone, so this is not a case of sacrifice.

Neither does the Old Testament deny the principle of individualism, so dear to (and so

abused by) Westerners. Deuteronomy 24:16 teaches that “fathers shall not be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their fathers; each is to die for his own sin.” Yet sometimes factors beyond individual responsibility are at work in a world of sin.

The Old Testament also reminds us of our corporate involvement, through which a member of a group can be held fully responsible for an action of the group, even though he or she personally may have had nothing to do with that act. Thus the whole group may be treated as a unit or through a representative. This is not to argue for a type of collectivism or a rejection of individual responsibility. Ten righteous men could have preserved Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen 18). A righteous man blesses his children after him (Prov 11:21). On the flip side, however, the sin of the few can bring judgment on the many, as in the story of the Korah, Dathan and Abiram incident in Numbers 16.

Certainly, there was to be collective 2punishment in Israel when a whole city was drawn into idolatrous worship at the incitement of a few good-for-nothing fellows (Deut 13:12–16). Complicity in the crime perpetrated against Naboth, in the taking of his land and life by the throne, led to judgment against the royal house, since there was no repentance in the interim (1 Kings 21; 2 Kings 10:1–11).

David granted the Gibeonites’ request because, according to the law of Moses,

“bloodshed pollutes the land, and atonement cannot be made for the land on which blood has been shed, except by the blood of the one who shed it” (Num 35:33). This being so, the members of Saul’s house had to be delivered over to the Gibeonites.

Hope of the land’s deliverance from the judgment of God did not lie in any other avenue. In fact, 2 Samuel 21:3 specifically mentions “making expiation” or

“atonement” ( kipper). (The NIV [NIV New International Version] translates it as

“make amends”!) The Gibeonites insisted that it was not possible for them to accept a substitute such as “silver or gold.” The seriousness of the crime demanded something more, as Numbers 35:31, 33 teaches.

David was careful to spare Mephibosheth, the recently discovered son of Jonathan, because of the covenant he had made with Jonathan (1 Sam 18:3; 20:8, 16). But he delivered to the Gibeonites two sons of Rizpah, a concubine of Saul, and five sons of Saul’s eldest daughter, Merab.

After killing them, the Gibeonites impaled the bodies on stakes and left them hanging in Saul’s hometown of Gibeah as a rebuke to all who would attempt genocide, as Saul apparently had. According to Deuteronomy 21:22–23, persons who were executed were not to remain hanging through the night on a stake, but were to be buried before evening. This law, however, did not appear to have any application to this case, where expiation of guilt for the whole land was concerned, and where non-Israelite Gibeonites were involved. It seems that the bodies remained on display until the famine actually ended; they were taken down as the rains began to fall.

Though David complied with the Gibeonite request, there is nothing in the text that suggests that he engineered the situation so as to get rid of any potential rivals from Saul’s line. Rather, the text stresses how important it is to honor covenants made before God. In the so-called second plague prayer given by the Hittite king Mursilis II (fourteenth century b.c.), he similarly blames a twenty-year famine in his land on a previous ruler’s breach of a treaty between the Hittites and the Egyptians. How much

more accountable would Israel be for a similar violation before Yahweh!

One traitor can affect the outcome of a whole battle and the lives of a whole army. So, too, the acts of those who rule on behalf of a whole nation can affect all either for good or for ill. Blood-guiltiness left on the land, whether through the betrayal of a covenant made before God or through a failure to put to death those who deliberately took the lives of innocent victims, must be avenged on those who caused the guilt.

Otherwise, the land will languish under the hand of God’s judgment.

See also comment on genesis 9:6; numbers 35:21; deuteronomy 24:16; joshua 7:1, 10–

11.

24:1 Why Was the Census a Sin?

See comment on 1 chronicles 21:1–2, 8.

24:9 What Was Israel’s Population?

The problem is this: 2 Samuel 24:9 has 300,000 less fighting men in northern Israel than 1 Chronicles 21:5. And 2 Samuel has 500,000 fighting men from Judah while 1

Chronicles states there were only 470,000. What is the explanation for these statistical inconsistencies?

As if this were not enough to deal with, both Josephus and the Lucianic texts (a recension of the Greek Septuagint) of Samuel record the number as 900,000 for Israel and 400,000 for Judah.

The solution proposed by J. Barton Payne3 [3 J. Barton Payne, “The Validity of Numbers in Chronicles,”

Near Eastern Archaeological Society Bulletin 11 (1978): 5–58.] seems best. He proposed that 2 Samuel 24:9 refers simply to “Israel” (that is, the northern ten tribes), but that 1 Chronicles 21:5 covers “all Israel,” including the regular army of 288,000 (1 Chron 27:1–15), a figure when rounded out comes to 300,000.

The difference between 470,000 of Chronicles and 500,000 of 2 Samuel can be explained much the same way: it is a rounding off of the numbers.

But what about the problem of such huge numbers? If taken at face value, this would imply that Israel and Judah had a combined population at this time of something like three to six million people. However, all attempts to size down these numbers runs into the further problem of creating new dilemmas. For example, to say that the word for

“thousand” (Hebrew <elep÷) here means “tribal unit, contingent,” as it sometimes does in other contexts, or even that <elep÷ had other vowels put with the constant consonants to read <alluÆp÷, “specially trained warriors,” leaves us with pondering the question as to why it took three hundred days to conduct a census of 1,570

outstanding military figures. Either someone was unusually slow in math, lazy, or the numbers are what they present themselves to be.

See also essay on “Aren’t Many Old Testament Numbers Wrong?”

24:24 How Many Shekels for the Altar Site?

See comment on 1 chronicles 21:25.

1 Kings

2:10 What Does “Rested with His Fathers” Imply?

See comment on genesis 25:8.

2:23–25 What Was So Wrong with Adonijah’s Request?

Why was Solomon so upset at Adonijah’s request to marry Abishag? Was this a serious enough breach of custom that it merited his being executed? Or was Solomon totally wrong to demand Adonijah’s death?

Possession of one or all of the wives of a reigning king was a virtual title to the throne.

This custom can be seen not only in 2 Samuel 12:8, where the wives of Saul were said to have been passed on to David, but also in Absalom’s coup, where he took possession of David’s harem to indicate that he was now king (2 Sam 16:21–22).

According to Herodotus (3:68), the Persians had the same custom, as did the Arabs.

It is doubtful that Adonijah had any romantic aspirations whatsoever. He just thought he could play Solomon’s mother, Bathsheba, for all she was worth. Since Adonijah had lost out to Solomon as king through Bathsheba and Nathan’s quick actions, Adonijah thought there was one last chance that he might get the power of the throne: he would innocently ask Bathsheba, and she might just naively grant his request, or work on Solomon to do so.

Bathsheba, while realizing that Abishag has been close to King David during his final ailing days, apparently saw no harm in the request. But Solomon saw through the whole scheme immediately and did not wait around until he had a palace coup or a national revolution on his hands. He acted swiftly and deftly.

So things are not always what they seem on the surface. What looked like a polite question from a good sport, who had just lost the race for king, turns out to have the potential for a deadly challenge to the throne. It was for this reason that Solomon acted so swiftly. If he hadn’t, things might have turned out very differently in the history of Israel.

11:1–2 Why Did Solomon Take So Many Foreign Wives?

How could Solomon take so many foreign wives when it was clearly forbidden? It is almost unbelievable. Is there any explanation that might serve to mitigate some of the blatant disobedience that such action seems to imply—especially for a man who was endowed with wisdom as a gift from God?

There is no question but that Moses stipulated that the kings God was going to give to Israel must not imitate the ways of the nations around them by taking many wives, for

the wives would lead their hearts astray (Deut 17:17).

Particularly noticeable in Scripture is the extreme moral degeneracy of the Canaanites (Gen 19; Lev 18:24–30; Deut 9:5; 12:29–31). It was for this reason that the Israelites were warned that intermarriage would result in their tolerating Canaanite religious practices (Ex 34:12–17; Deut 7:1–5).

Even though one would expect a higher standard from a king who should set the example for the nation, Solomon began to regard himself as beyond the need for such warnings. It is true, of course, that the text specifically noted that the seven hundred wives were of royal birth, for it was customary in that day to employ marriages with a foreign king’s daughters as a way of cementing diplomatic alliances. In case of nonperformance of a treaty, Solomon had only to imply that the dissident king’s daughter was most anxious to hear that her father had done what he had promised to do—so that her health might be enjoyed for more years. The reverse side of that coin, however, was that a daughter might write home to her father complaining that Solomon cared not at all for her religion in that he never went to her idol’s services.

Thus the trap was sprung against Solomon, no matter how politically savvy he might have thought that such marriages were. Spiritual disaster resulted.

See also comment on genesis 29:25–28; 2 samuel 20:3.

12:24 This Is the Lord’s Doing?

See comment on 2 chronicles 11:2–4.

18:40 Why Did Elijah Kill All 450 Prophets of Baal?

Why was it necessary to kill the prophets of Baal once it had been shown that they could not call down fire from heaven as Elijah had? Wasn’t it enough to prove that they were false prophets without any power? And if some of the prophets of Baal had to die, why all 450?

Elijah stepped forward after the prophets of Baal had been asking Baal to send down fire from six o’clock in the morning to three o’clock in the afternoon with no results.

In less than a minute’s petition to Almighty God, the fire of God fell from heaven. The crowd was impressed and fell facedown, crying, “The Lord—he is God! The Lord—he is God” (1 Kings 18:39).

The fire of God could just as well have consumed the 450 prophets of Baal right then and there (and the 400 prophets of Asherah, for that matter). But the divine fire was not the fire of judgment this time, but the fire that signified that the bull Elijah had placed on the altar was accepted. After three and a half years in which the weather forecast was “sunny, clear and warmer” each day, you would have thought that the God that answered by rain would prove he was Lord. But no, before the mercies of God could come, there must first be the sacrifice that prepared the way for those mercies and graces.

Immediately Elijah commanded that all the prophets of Baal were to be rounded up and taken down to the Kishon Valley to be slaughtered there. There was no hesitation on the part of the people; the Lord’s command now came to a crowd that had been

startled into responding positively and quickly. Once they had collected all the prophets of Baal, the actual killing may have been done by the people, for on linguistic grounds it is possible to read the fact that Elijah “killed” the prophets of Baal in the sense that he ordered them to be put to death (as in NIV [NIV New International Version] ). Here again is another case where secondary causes were passed over as being unnecessary to state, for to attribute the action to the primary or ultimate cause could also involve secondary causes as well.

Why Elijah chose the Kishon Valley instead of using Mount Carmel we may only guess. Perhaps he did not wish to defile the place of sacrifice where the Lord had sanctified himself in a miracle.

The wicked crimes of these prophets of Baal demanded the death penalty (Deut 13:13–15; 17:2–5). Modern thought might consider this to be an overreaction and quite unnecessary, yet when one considers that because of these prophets many persons went into eternity forever cast away from the presence of God, the sanction is completely justified.

Seen in this light, not only are the reaction of the people and the command of Elijah understandable; they are also according to the law of God. It is a serious matter to fool with the holiness of God and his truth.

See also comment on numbers 25:7–13.

22:20–22 Is God the Author of Falsehood?

Could the God of truth be guilty of sponsoring or condoning falsehood? Some have charged just that. The passages that are raised to back this charge are 1 Kings 22:20–

23, 2 Chronicles 18:18–22, Jeremiah 4:10, 20:7 and Ezekiel 14:9.

Such a charge is possible only if one forgets that many biblical writers dismiss secondary causes and attribute all that happens directly to God, since he is over all things. Therefore, statements expressed in the imperative form of the verb often represent only what is permitted to happen. Accordingly, when the devils begged Jesus to let them enter the swine, he said, “Go” (Mt 8:31). This did not make him the active sponsor of evil; he merely permitted the demons to do what they wanted to do. In a similar manner, Jesus commanded Judas, “What you are about to do, do quickly” (Jn 13:27). But Jesus did not become the author of the evil perpetrated on himself.

God can be described as deceiving Ahab only because the biblical writer does not discriminate between what someone does and what he permits. It is true, of course, that in 1 Kings 22 God seems to do more than permit the deception. Without saying that God does evil that good may come, we can say that God overrules the full tendencies of preexisting evil so that the evil promotes God’s eternal plan, contrary to its own tendency and goals.

Because Ahab had abandoned the Lord his God and hardened his own heart, God allowed his ruin by the very instrument Ahab had sought to prostitute for his own purposes, namely, prophecy. God used the false declarations of the false prophets that Ahab was so enamored with as his instruments of judgment.

That God was able to overrule the evil does not excuse the guilty prophets or their

gullible listener. Even though the lying spirit had the Lord’s permission, this did not excuse the prophets who misused their gifts. They fed the king exactly what he wanted to hear. Their words were nothing less than echoes of the king’s desires. Thus the lying prophets, the king and Israel were equally culpable before God. The responsibility had to be shared. These prophets spoke “out of their own minds.”

This principle is further confirmed when we note that the passage in question is a vision that Micaiah reveals to Ahab. God is telling Ahab, “Wise up. I am allowing your prophets to lie to you.” In a sense, God is revealing further truth to Ahab rather than lying to him. If God were truly trying to entrap Ahab into a life-threatening situation, he would not have revealed the plan to him! Even so, Ahab refuses to heed God’s truth, and he follows his prophets’ advice.

The other two passages used to charge God with falsehood are easier to understand. In Ezekiel 14:9 we have another case of God allowing spiritual blindness to take its course. The biblical writer merely attributes the whole process of hardening of heart followed by judgment as falling within God’s sovereignty. The strong statement of Jeremiah 20:7 is a complaint by the prophet, who had mistaken the promise of God’s presence for the insurance that no evil or derision would come on him or his ministry.

However, these verses cannot be cited as the basis for giving any credence to the charge that God is deceptive.

Another instance where God sent an evil spirit was in Judges 9:23. There, one of Gideon’s sons, Abimelech, acted as king for three years over the city of Shechem. But after those three years, God sent an evil spirit between Abimelech and the citizens of Shechem so that they “acted treacherously against Abimelech.”

In this case, the “evil spirit” was the breaking out of discord and treachery against Abimelech. Once again, under the direction of his providence, but not in any positive agency, God allowed jealousies to arise, which produced factions and in turn became insurrections, civil discontent and ultimately bloodshed. God remained sovereign in the midst of all the evil that ensued—much of it deservedly happening to those who deliberately refused the truth and preferred their own version of reality.

See also comment on 1 samuel 16:14; job 1:6–12.

2 Kings

2:11 What Happened to Elijah?

See comment on genesis 5:23–24.

2:23–24 A Cruel Punishment for Childhood Pranks?

The way many read this text, a mild personal offense by some innocent little children was turned into a federal case by a crotchety old prophet as short on hair as he was on humor. Put in its sharpest form, the complaint goes: How can I believe in a God who would send bears to devour little children for innocently teasing an old man whose appearance probably was unusual even for that day?

At first reading, it appears the prophet chanced on guileless children merrily playing on the outskirts of Bethel. Seeing this strange-looking man, they began to chant in merriment, “Go on up, you baldhead! Go on up, you baldhead!” Instead of viewing the situation for what it was, the old prophet became enraged (as some would tell the story), whirled around and, with eyes flashing anger, shouted a curse in the name of the Lord.

But this is a false reconstruction of the event. The problem begins with the two Hebrew words for “little children,” as many older translations term the youths. If we are to untangle this puzzling incident, the age and accountability level of these children must take first priority. “Little children” is an unfortunate translation. The Hebrew expression n÷ƒ>uÆréÆm qƒ\tannéÆm is best rendered “young lads” or “young men.” From numerous examples where ages are specified in the Old Testament, we know that these were boys from twelve to thirty years old. One of these words described Isaac at his sacrifice in Genesis 22:12, when he was easily in his early twenties. It described Joseph in Genesis 37:2 when he was seventeen years old. In fact, the same word described army men in 1 Kings 20:14–15.

If someone objects, yes, but the word qƒ\tannéÆm (which is translated “little” in some versions) makes the difference in this context, I will answer that it is best translated “young,” not “little.” Furthermore, these words have a good deal of elasticity to them. For example, Samuel asked Jesse, “Are these all your children n÷ƒ> uÆréÆm]?” But Jesse replied, “There is still the youngest [ qaµt\aµn].” But David was old enough to keep sheep and fight a giant soon after (1 Sam 16:11–12).

“Little children,” then, does not mean toddlers or even elementary-school-aged youngsters; these are young men aged between twelve and thirty!

But was Elisha an old man short on patience and a sense of humor? This charge is also distorted, for Elisha can hardly have been more than twenty-five when this incident happened. He lived nearly sixty years after this, since it seems to have taken place shortly after Elijah’s translation into heaven. Some would place Elijah’s translation around 860 b.c. and Elisha’s death around 795 b.c. While Elijah’s ministry had lasted less than a decade, Elisha’s extended at least fifty-five years, through the reigns of Jehoram, Jehu, Jehoahaz and Joash.

Did Elisha lose his temper? What was so wrong in calling him a “baldhead,” even if he might not have been bald, being less than thirty?

The word baldhead was a term of scorn in the Old Testament (Is 3:17, 24). Natural baldness was very rare in the ancient Near East. So scarce was baldness that it carried with it a suspicion of leprosy.

Whether Elisha was prematurely bald or not, it is clear that the epithet was used in utter contempt, as a word of insult marking him as despicable.

But since it is highly improbable that Elisha was prematurely bald, the insult was aimed not so much at the prophet as at the God who had sent him. The point is clear from the other phrase. “Go on up,” they clamored. “Go on up!” These were not topographical references to the uphill grade of the Bethel road. Instead, the youths were alluding to Elijah’s translation to heaven. This they did not believe or acknowledge as God’s work in their midst. To put it in modern terms, they jeered, “Blast off! Blast off! You go too.

Get out of here. We are tired of both of you.” These Bethel ruffians used the same Hebrew verb used at the beginning of the second chapter of 2 Kings to describe the taking up of Elijah into heaven. The connection cannot be missed.

Apparently, news of Elijah’s ascension to glory traveled near and far but was greeted with contemptuous disbelief by many, including this youthful mob. The attack was on God, not his prophet.

Elisha uses no profanity in placing a curse on these young men. He merely cited the law of God, which the inhabitants of Bethel knew well. Moses had taught, “If you remain hostile toward me and refuse to listen to me, … I will send wild animals against you, and they will rob you of your children” (Lev 26:21–22).

Elisha did not abuse these young men, nor did he revile them; he was content to leave the work of judging to God. He pronounced a judgment on them and asked God to carry out the action which he had promised when his name, his cause and his word were under attack. No doubt these young men only reflected what they heard at the dinner table each evening as the population went further and further away from God.

The savagery of wild animals was brutal enough, but it was mild compared to the legendary cruelty of the Assyrians who would appear to complete God’s judgment in 722 b.c. The disastrous fall of Samaria would have been avoided had the people repented after the bear attack and the increasingly severe divine judgments that followed it. But instead of turning back to God, Israel, as would Judah in a later day,

“mocked God’s messengers, despised his words and scoffed at his prophets until the wrath of the Lord was aroused against his people and there was no remedy” (2 Chron 36:16).

Instead of demonstrating unleashed cruelty, the bear attack shows God trying repeatedly to bring his people back to himself through smaller judgments until the people’s sin is too great and judgment must come full force.

See also comment on mark 10:35.

3:27 Human Sacrifice Worked?

Did not the sacrifice of the king of Moab’s son, the heir apparent to the throne, work in that Israel broke off the siege of the city of Kir Hareseth in Moab? Does this count as evidence that the god of the Moabites intervened on their behalf?

When Mesha, king of Moab, refused to send the required annual tribute of wool to Israel, King Jehoram mobilized his forces, in addition to successfully enlisting King Jehoshaphat of Judah, to go to Moab to enforce this tribute.

The whole campaign almost ended in a disaster for both Israel and Judah as they chose to attack from the desert side of that nation, but the prophet Elisha happened to be along to give divine counsel and direction. Miraculously the fortunes of the two armies were reversed, and very quickly the soldiers of Moab turned in full retreat to the city of Kir Hareseth.

King Mesha, seeing that the battle had gone against him, in desperation took his oldest son and offered him on the city wall, apparently hoping that this would appease their

god and he would act in delivering them. The Israelites did break off their siege and return home.

Does this mean that their god delivered them? Hardly, given his nonexistence. There was no need to continue the hostilities any further, for the object of the campaign had been achieved: Moab’s power was broken and the rebellion suppressed. The country was once again under the jurisdiction of Israel. What more could be achieved? That, along with the revolting spectacle, was enough for all the troops of Israel and Judah.

This is not the only time such a desperate action has been taken in the ancient Near East. Nor is the mention of “fury” to be attributed to God’s fury against Israel because of the lengths to which they had pressed the king of Moab, as C. F. Keil thought.

Instead, the “fury” was Israel’s indignation and revulsion over so gruesome an act and so senseless a waste of life. The guilt was solely on the shoulders of the king of Moab, for as Psalm 106:38 warned:

They shed innocent blood,

the blood of their sons and daughters,

whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan,

and the land was desecrated by their blood.

The sacrifice was so disgusting and revolting to the Israelites because they understood that it rendered the whole land impure, accursed and covered with blood-guilt.

See also comment on genesis 22:2; 2 samuel 21:1–9.

6:19 Did Elisha Lie to the Syrians?

Was Elisha truthful when he told the temporarily blinded Syrians who had been sent to capture him that they were not on the right road or in the right city? Or is this to be explained as an example of Elisha’s choosing the “greater good” or “lesser evil”?

Some commentators, like Keil and Delitzsch, comment on this verse by saying that Elisha makes an untruthful declaration when he says this is not the way. They judge this to be a statement like every other military stratagem that attempts to deceive the enemy. But W. G. Sumner thought differently. He announced: “There is not untruth in the words of Elisha, for his home was not in Dothan, where he was temporarily residing, but in Samaria; and the words ‘[I will lead you] to the man’ may well mean: to his house.” He went on to say that

Josephus understood the passage correctly; he says: “Elisha asked them whom they had come to seek. When they answered: ‘the prophet Elisha,’ … where he is to be found, … [h]e certainly used a form of speech which the Syrians might understand otherwise than as he meant it, but he did not pretend in the least to be anything else than what he was. That they did not know him was a divine dispensation, not the result of an untruth uttered by him. How could the ‘man of God,’ after repeated prayers to Jehovah, straightway permit himself a falsehood, and try, by this means, to save himself from danger? If he saw, as his companion did, horses and chariots of fire round about him, and if he was thus assured of the divine protection, then he needed for his

deliverance neither a falsehood nor a stratagem.”1 [1 W. G. Sumner, The Book of Kings, Lange Commentary, Book II (New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co., 1872), p. 69.]

See also comment on exodus 1:15–21; 3:18; joshua 2:4–6; 1 samuel 16:1–3.

6:21–23 Why Were the Syrians Spared?

Why did Elisha spare the lives of this reconnaissance group when most say that the Old Testament elsewhere is marked by a ruthless treatment of Israel’s enemies? Does this point to an inconsistent policy in the nation and the testament?

The problem here is that it is wrong to universalize the provision of Deuteronomy 20:13, with its principle of h\erem, the involuntary dedication for total destruction of all those so marked out by God. The conditions of total destruction of all living things and possessions (except what could not burn, such as gold, silver or iron, which was to be put into the tabernacle or temple) applied only to the nation of Canaan. The only other peoples to be involved in the h\erem were the Amalekites, for the reasons announced in the Bible (1 Sam 15:2–3).

All other nations were to be treated differently, even when God had authorized Israel or Judah to proceed against them. The divine permission did not give Israel the right to run roughshod over the population and abuse their human rights and dignity. To do so would be to earn the wrath of God.

Instead of exterminating them, they were to be offered terms of peace. Thus, Elisha prepared a table in the presence of his enemies. Moreover, the Syrian raids ceased operating, for who can fight against a God who knows even the secrets of one’s bedroom? Nothing could be concealed from him and nothing could compete with him.

No wonder the prophet Elisha was not intimidated in the least by all Syria’s power and might. Why should he be?

See also comment on 1 samuel 15:18.

9:6–10 Jehu Punished for Doing As He Was Commanded?

Why is Jehu at first told to carry out the destruction of the house of Ahab and then later on threatened with punishment by the prophet Hosea for doing as he was told (Hos 1:4)?

Jehu was given a twofold divine commission: (1) he was to annihilate all the wicked and apostate house of Ahab, and (2) he was to avenge the blood that Jezebel had shed of the prophets of Yahweh. God’s instrument of choice was the army captain, Jehu.

These tasks Jehu carried out to the full.

Why then was God displeased with Jehu, as Hosea seems to imply? Because it is one thing to be the instrument God has chosen to punish another person (or group of persons or even a nation) and another to find automatic approval at the completion of the act for the manner in which this task was carried out. For example, Assyria was ordered to move against Israel, but God disapproved of the brutal way Assyria carried out the warfare (Is 10:5–19). Babylon was likewise authorized to move against Judah

but was excoriated for cruelty in that war (Hab 1:6; 3:13–16).

Therefore, although Jehu was obedient to God’s directive (2 Kings 9:7), he erred grievously in that he killed more people than God had directed and did so with a savagery that did not earn God’s approval. It seems clear from Jehu’s conduct that he was motivated not by a desire to be obedient to God but by sheer personal ambition—

thereby making his act of obedience wicked. It was this same spirit that was transmitted to his descendants, in a heightened degree if anything.

Jehu showed unnecessary cruelty when he slew not only the house of Ahab at Jezreel, but also the visiting monarch from Judah, Ahaziah, and almost all the members of the Davidic family (2 Kings 9:27; 10:13–14). Jehu, furthermore, extended this massacre to all the friends of the ruling family (2 Kings 10:11).

The point is most evident that divine approval for an act does not thereby carry with it indifference as to how that act is accomplished and how many others it may involve.

14:6 Should Children Die for Their Parents’ Sins?

See comment on deuteronomy 24:16.

22:20 Gathered to His People?

See comment on genesis 25:8.

23:26 Why Did the Lord Not Turn from His Anger?

Is it possible to overcome the effects of years of wickedness and evil by a time of unprecedented reform and revival? Can a godly grandson’s thirty-year reign make up for his ruthless grandfather and father, who provoked God to the limit for sixty years?

In other words, does evil have a corporate and cumulative effect on society, or, as the saying goes, does “every tub always stand on its own bottom”?

In spite of the probability that Manasseh of Judah became king, or coregent, about ten years before his father, Hezekiah, died, his godly father had no influence on his fifty-year reign. This is especially shocking after the great revival under Hezekiah.

Manasseh illustrates the old saying “God may have children, but he has no grandchildren.” In his case a godly home was no guarantee that he would follow the Lord.

For half a century Manasseh duplicated all the depravity of the Canaanites. He murdered so many righteous men that there were too few to defend Jerusalem when the need arose (2 Kings 21:10–15); all of which the people tolerated. This ruthless monarch ordered Isaiah “sawed in two” (Heb 11:37). Manasseh’s idolatry and unrighteousness brought Judah and Jerusalem to unavoidable rejection by God (2

Kings 24:3; Jer 15:4).

Manasseh did have what is today called a deathbed conversion experience. For offending the Assyrian king Ashurbanipal, Manasseh was hauled off to prison where

“in his distress he sought the favor of the Lord his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. And when he prayed to him, the Lord was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea. … Then Manasseh knew that the Lord is God” (2

Chron 33:12–13). This came at the end of his reign.

But it was too late to reverse the trends in society and his own household. Manasseh was succeeded by his wicked son Amon, who himself was assassinated by other ruffians. Second Chronicles 33:23 pointedly informs us that King Amon “did not humble himself before the Lord.”

Mercifully God prepared Amon’s eight-year-old son, Josiah, to take over as king.

From the very beginning, Josiah walked in David’s ways and not in the ways of his grandfather Manasseh or his father Amon. He deserves the credit for initiating one of the most intensive periods of reformation and revival known in Judah’s history. But it seems this revival never deeply penetrated the culture, for it carried no lasting effects and had insufficient strength to overcome the years of compounded evil accumulated under Manasseh. Josiah’s work was insufficient to offset the evil done by his father and grandfather before him.

Though Josiah ended outward and gross forms of idolatry in his sincere desire to dedicate himself and his people to the Lord, the people themselves did not turn back to the Lord. They followed their religious king out of fear, but their hearts and minds, apparently, were affected very little.

If the early chapters of Jeremiah reflect the conditions under King Josiah, then they describe the people’s deep inner apostasy, not only before Josiah’s reform and discovery of the Book of the Law, but also during and following it.

The Holy One of Israel could no longer forgive and extend mercy; he at last was obligated to bring the judgment foretold to Manasseh in 2 Kings 21:12–15. Thus, even though God is patient and long-suffering in his mercy, judgment will and must eventually come, even though someone arrives on the scene who seemingly cancels the debt standing against all the people (2 Kings 22:15–20).

24:6 A Failed Prophecy?

See comment on jeremiah 36:30.

1 Chronicles

1:1–9:44 Why So Many Long Genealogies?

It seems pointless, if not boring, to occupy so many chapters of the Bible with what is tantamount to a telephone directory list of names. Why is so much space devoted to what does not seem to be of any spiritual profit or usefulness to subsequent generations?

Chronicles begins with nine chapters of genealogies. The purpose of this exercise is quite complex. Naturally, if one’s own family were involved, it would have a lot more direct personal interest, for you can be sure you would look to see if the name of your

relative was listed. But given the whole history of the plan of redemption, our individual interests are not far removed from that at all—in fact, if anything, all the more increased. For it was through this family of Adam, Eve, Shem and Abraham that all the families of the earth would be blessed.

First of all, 1 Chronicles 1–9 proposes to present a historical review of Israel in outline form. Second, it provides a literary connection with the death of Saul (described in 1

Chron 10) and a list of the returning exiles (1 Chron 9). Some of the names, no doubt, are included merely for the sake of completeness, or at least to help bridge the centuries. But the most important purpose of these genealogies, in the third place, is to demonstrate that there is movement in history toward a divinely predetermined goal.

Even though the Israelites throughout the ages are marshaled here from the famous and the infamous, the north and the south, the rich and the poor, the underlying factor common to them all is the fact that the God of Israel is the one who has preserved and guided his people thus far to that goal and end that God has planned; he, therefore, will be the one who will complete that very same process.

Thus the chronicler moved from Adam (1 Chron 1:1) to the decree of Cyrus allowing the people to return to rebuild the temple (2 Chron 36:22–23). It was all part of one plan, with the tapestry being woven principally with just ordinary people in Israel whom God had called.

See also comment on “Why Don’t Bible Genealogies Always Match Up?”

2:13–15 Did Jesse Have Seven or Eight Sons?

Did Jesse father seven or eight sons? Chronicles says it was seven, but Samuel says it was eight (1 Sam 16:10–11; 17:12–14). Which one is accurate?

First Samuel 16 only names four of Jesse’s sons: Eliab, Abinadab, Shammah, who is called Shimea in 1 Chronicles, and David. First Chronicles gives the names of three other sons, Nethanel, Raddai and Ozem, but specifies that David is the seventh. What happened to the other unnamed son, that 1 Chronicles 2 totally ignores, is unknown.

Some commentators suggest that this unnamed son may have died without any posterity, and therefore his name was not included in the list in Chronicles.

The reading of the Syriac lists an Elihu as the seventh son in 1 Chronicles 2:15 and then lists David as the eighth, thereby bringing the two lists in Samuel and Chronicles into harmony with each other. The Syriac reading is based on the Hebrew reading of 1

Chronicles 27:18, where the Septuagint has Eliab instead of Elihu (apparently going with the known name from the list in 1 Samuel). If the Syriac and Hebrew preserve accurate traditions, then Elihu is the son missing from the list of 1 Chronicles 2:15.

3:1–9 Why So Many Wives?

See comment on 2 samuel 20:3; 1 kings 11:1–2.

6:16, 22–23, 25–26 Was Samuel a Levite or an Ephraimite?

Which tribe did Samuel come from? Why does 1 Samuel 1:1 list him as being from

Ephraim, while Chronicles declares he was a Levite?

Critical commentators suppose that Samuel’s father, Elkanah, was depicted as a Levite, even though there was nothing in the Samuel narrative that said as much, because the chronicler noted that there was an Elkanah in the line of Kohath and the line of Samuel. Therefore, he mistakenly, or deliberately, attached Samuel’s name to the line of Kohath.

But there is an indication in the Samuel narrative that he was from a Levitical line: the fact that he was accepted by the high priest Eli to be an apprentice. Later, when Samuel reached maturity, he functioned as a priest and conducted sacrifices at various centers in Israel.

But what about 1 Samuel 1:1? It simply states that Elkanah was “from” Ramathaim-zophim, or “Ramathaim, a Zuphite,” on Mount Ephraim, or the hill country of Ephraim. Typically the Levites would be assigned to “Levitical cities” throughout Israel. Numbers 35:6 knows of forty-eight cities so designated, but we do not know if Ramathaim was one of them.

Our conclusion is that Elkanah was a Levite assigned to, or living in, Ephraim. Even the ancestry listed in Samuel accords with that given in Chronicles. No contradiction, therefore, need be assumed.

13:9–10 Why Did God Destroy Uzzah?

See comment on 2 samuel 6:6–7.

15:29 Was David’s Public Dancing Indecent?

See comment on 2 samuel 6:20.

19:18 How Many Charioteers?

The Chronicles account says that David killed seven thousand charioteers, but 2

Samuel 10:18 gives the number as seven hundred. Some claim that this illustrates a tendency for the chronicler to somewhat magnify David’s stature and character. Is this an accurate assessment of the habits of the chronicler, or is there some adequate explanation for this discrepancy?

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