David Enters, Stage Left

1 Samuel 16-21

We continue our recap of 1 Samuel, which we’ve been reading during Morning Prayer. This week we are introduced to a hick from the sticks, David, son of Jesse. Slayer of lions, slinger of stones, shredder of lyres, and apparently not a chore to look at.

Chapter 16

Samuel is down in the dumps over the Saul situation, so God says to him, “Buck up, little camper. I already found you a replacement king. Now go on and get yourself down to Bethlehem and see this dude there named Jesse.” Samuel hightailed it to Bethlehem and met Jesse and his oldest son, Eliab, who was tall and handsome.

“Ah ha!” said Samuel, “this must be the one!” After all, Samuel seemed to be really set on kings being tall.

But God told him, “Nuh-uh.” So Samuel took a gander at Jesse’s next son, and the next, and the next one after that, seven in total. Each time, God said, “Not a chance.”

“Look, man,” said Samuel to Jesse, “is this all your sons?”

Jesse responded, “Well there’s the youngest, David, out in the field, tending to the sheep.”

With a sigh, Samuel said to bring him hither. When David showed up, God spoke to Samuel, “Him! That’s the one!” Samuel anointed David and the spirit of God gripped him the rest of his days.

Meanwhile, the spirit fled Saul and he was really depressed. Nothing would cheer him up, not even watching Big Trouble in Little China, which shows you how depressed he was. Someone suggested a young prodigy at the lyre (the keytar of the day), who just so happened to be named David.

Chapter 17

The Israelites and Philistines had gathered for battle. The Philistines gathered on a hill overlooking a ravine, with Israel deployed on the hill opposite. From the line of the Philistines sallied forth their champion, Goliath. Now this dude was over nine feet tall! I know, right? And he wasn’t tall and awkward looking, like Wilt Chamberlain in Conan the Destroyer; nope, he was tall and massively built, like the Hulk in the Marvel movies.

Goliath was a master trash talker, and he spends 40 days hyping up the fight, saying he’ll fight Israel’s champion in single combat, and they can decide the battle that way. None of the Israelites would step forward, even with the promise of marriage to one of Saul’s daughters (hmm, I wonder if that will be significant later?). They were shaking in their boots, even though they didn’t have boots on; they had sandals.

But out steps David (I have it from a reliable source that he looks like Viggo Mortensen in The Lord of the Rings, by the way). Goliath taunts him and the wee little man gives it right back. David charges and an epic battle…

…does not ensue. David hits him with his slingshot, the giant freak drops, and end of story. Oh, David does lop off his head for good measure, though. Saul is like, “Who is this kid?” and no one reminds him that it’s the kid who was playing the lyre for him in the last chapter.

Chapter 18

David and Saul’s son Jonathan became best buds. Jonathan even gave him his cloak, symbolically transferring his own royal rights and status as next in line for the throne to David, thereby acknowledging David’s divinely ordained destiny and humble submission to God’s will. It was quite a cloak.

David, not only being a rockin’ lyre player and crack shot with a sling, also happened to be a valiant warrior and leader. He racked up victory after victory and, in the ultimate sign of his popularity, even got a popular ditty about his exploits, which became the unexpected hit and topped the charts:

Saul has struck down his thousands
and David his tens of thousands!

Admittedly, it’s not quite Miley Cyrus’ Party in the U.S.A. but trust me, it was huge. One person who wasn’t a fan, however, was Saul, and that’s putting it mildly. The guy tried to kill David by throwing a spear at him multiple times. Not being a dummy, David removed himself from the palace and took command of some crack troops. With his victories mounting, Saul was reminded of his promise to marry his daughter to David. But, not his eldest daughter, as previously promised; but the younger one, Michal. David was only slightly miffed, her name being hard to pronounce without it sounding like a man’s name. What galled him more though were the conditions that were set. He’d have to come up with… how do we put this… proof of having slain 100 Philistines by handing over certain… elements… of their, um… anatomy…

Now if Saul was hoping that David would die in the attempt, or give up because of some delicate sensibilities, he was sadly mistaken. David paid the price, and Saul was forced to let his daughter marry David. Michal was very happy about this, for he was quite the catch.

Chapter 19

(Note: We skipped this chapter in our readings owing to the observance of St. James the Apostle’s Feast Day.)

Saul told his son Jonathan of his plan to get rid of David, who went right back to David and told him what’s what. That didn’t stop Saul from chucking another spear at David, though, so he absented himself from the premises.

But Saul sent men after him, so Michal helped him escape. David then made his way to Samuel, and they both fled to Naioth in Ramah. Saul caught word of their location, but each team of assassins he sent would be struck down with the spirit by Samuel, frolicking about with religious ecstasy: dancing, spinning, speaking in tongues, and passing out Chick Tracts; you know, that kinda thing.

Finally, Saul himself showed up, but he too was struck down, slain by the spirit, and stripped himself naked, subtly symbolizing the stripping of his kingship, a kingship that was inaugurated when he first was caught up in religious ecstasy, lo those many years ago.

Chapter 20

David told Jonathan how his father was out to get him, but he took some convincing, even though a few chapters before Jonathan was telling David how his dad was out to get him. But it can be hard to hear that your dad is a jerk from other people’s mouths. David informed him he was making himself scarce, and if Saul asked why he wasn’t at dinner (Saul had read a book about how important it is for families to eat dinner together; also, there should be no TV), he was to say that David had to go back to Bethlehem for a thing his own father was doing.

Saul noticed David’s absence (being hard no miss, what being handsome, with a ruddy complexion, and God’s favor dripping off him), and Jonathan gave him the prepared excuse. Saul was not fooled, but he certainly thought Jonathan was being one. Didn’t he realize that he was in danger of losing his own birthright, the throne, to David?

So, Jonathan shot some arrows, and had his servant retrieve them in such a way that David knew his suspicions about Saul wanting to kill him were confirmed.

Chapter 21

Now David fled to Nob (heh-heh) with a select band of followers and went to Ahimelech, the local priest, and asked for some food. Ahimelech immediately cottons onto the fact that David is a wanted man. The priest tells him there’s only consecrated showbread. Now the showbread was bread (duh) that would sit on the altar in a temple dedicated to God. This being before the Temple in Jerusalem, apparently there were many different temples about. Anyway, twelve loaves of bread, for the twelve tribes of Israel, would sit for a week before God, as a memorial. After the week was up, new bread would replace the old, which was eaten by the priests.

Ahimelech told David that there wasn’t any unconsecrated bread about, which was unfortunate because David and his band of fellows were unclean. David told him, “Au contraire mon frère” (or at least the Hebrew equivalent), “me and my boys don’t dally about with women when we are on campaign” (this little tidbit may come up again at some point. Just sayin’).

“In that case,” says Ahimelech, “dig in. Oh, by the way, we happen to have Goliath’s old sword. Want it?”

Knowing he’s a wanted man in Israel, David decides to try hiding out in Gath, where Goliath happened to hail from. But his fame has preceded him, and the King of Gath, Achish, recognizes David straight away (unlike Saul, who couldn’t recognize him even after his sick lyre solos). So, David feigns madness. Like, we’re talking about a full-on, Nicolas-Cage-level freak-out.