Some years ago, after I finished a tertiary creative writing course, I was asked for feedback. I wrote a scathing letter about the Christian fantasy elective, summing up my criticism of it as a subject designed by a pair of seventeen-year-old males who thought they knew everything about everything across the entire gamut of fantasy writing with all its sub-genres, simply because they could nerdishly quote a favourite line from a novel or movie and have their mates make an instant comeback with the next line.
I guess my letter made an impact because, although I didn’t hear back from the senior lecturer it was written to, a couple of junior lecturers contacted me. One rang to express her effusive thanks. She said she hadn’t done any creative writing for years—all because of the crushing critiques she’d received for her first fantasy novel. But, as she listened to comments by staff about what I’d said, she realised I’d managed to put my finger on the crux of the problem. Those lecturers in charge of the fantasy elective at the time were still immature teenagers in their thinking. Their enthusiasm was broad but their expertise was narrow. And they didn’t have a clue how limited it was because there was no one who’d read widely enough in the genre to challenge their viewpoint. As she finished the phone call, she promised to go back to writing.
When it comes to Scripture, it’s all too easy to settle into similar immature thinking about faith heroes like David. Similar to those lecturers who relived the thrill of the story every time they quoted a line and someone chipped in with the right rejoinder, we try to re-experience the childhood delight of realising the giants in our lives are not invincible and the villains will, sooner or later, get their comeuppance. And so we get stuck in halo mode, unable to believe that the hero did anything wrong. Oh, except maybe once. Which makes him even more enchanting in our eyes, because a flawless hero is depressing, since we can’t aspire to faultless behaviour either. So we dismiss anything that doesn’t fit the rigid mould we learned to cram our hero into way back in Sunday School. We amputate his clay feet and then overlook his disability.
Here’s just some of the issues in David’s life that needed addressing:
- His son, Amnon, raped his half-sister Tamar and David did nothing. He did not discipline Amnon or console Tamar. This was one of the precipitating causes of the civil war instigated by Absalom. Like Abraham, David was mighty in war but completely passive when it came to abuse within his own family. Like Abraham, he abandoned the woman who was being abused.
- He lied to the Philistine king Achish (whom he calls ‘Abimelech’ in Psalm 34), even while pledging allegiance to him and covenanting with him. Like Abraham who lied to the Philistine king Abimelech, David is determined to save his own skin no matter how many lives it costs. Abraham chose to lie about Sarah, knowing full well that the previous time he’d done so, many Egyptians died as a result of his falsehood. Like Abraham, David is resourced by the man he deceived—Abraham was showered with favour and rewards in the form of flocks, herds and slaves while David was given the fortress of Ziklag that was eventually incorporated into the territory of the tribe of Judah. David and his warband conduct raids from that fortress, always leaving no survivor so there is no one to report the truth back to Achish. Neither David nor Abraham were willing to trust God when they felt their lives to be under threat but were instead not only prepared to deceive others but to sacrifice many to cover up their duplicity.
- David left his wives and the families of his men alone at Ziklag. Like Abraham leaving Sarah alone in Egypt and Gerar, he put them in harm’s way as the price for his own security.
- David saw the Angel of the Lord with sword poised over the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite on Mount Moriah. Just as for Abraham, who heard the Angel of the Lord when he was about to sacrifice Isaac on Mount Moriah, the command was, ‘Stay your hand.’ Both these situations are heavily nuanced with the possibility of the defilement by Amorite divinities who used threshing floors as thin places for communication, judgment, fortune-telling and sacrifice.
David, as we saw last session, had Abraham’s mantle. That’s why these parallels exist. Like Abraham, David resided at Hebron for several years and, also like him, he went to battle as far as Damascus. But David didn’t mend the mantle—he ripped it further. He made things far worse. Abraham paid tithes to Melchizedek, the priest-king of Salem, but contrariwise David seems to have seen himself as priest-king of Jerusalem like Melchizedek, and appointed his sons to that order. (See 2 Samuel 8:18) Now prophetically speaking, he was absolutely right but his motivation was not above reproach.
We simply can’t assume that, just because someone prophesies accurately, that all is well with their intentions. It’s that same back-formulation of ‘this must have been ok, because the Lord blessed it.’ The Lord makes all things—all things—work together for good by His grace. They may not be good to start with but that’s what makes Him so amazing. The last few years have seen the collapse of so many ministries where prophecy was accurate but abuse was rampant. Jesus has told us that we are to discern His followers by fruit, not gifts—however spectacular they might be.
So just what was David doing creating a separate branch of the priesthood in perpetuity for his descendants? We have no indication the Lord commanded this. Scripture is silent. Was this another of those things that God consented to—like the institution of kingship, like the building of the Temple—not because it was His will, but because He was determined to keep relationship with His people? I wonder what role David’s sons had, since we see a later king, Uzziah, afflicted with leprosy for entering the Inner Court of the Temple and attempting to offer prayer at the altar of incense. Why did the priesthood of the line of Melchizedek not apply to him?
What motivated David to make, or accept, this declaration in the first place? Such a significant departure from the exclusive nature of the Aaronic priesthood should surely be recorded, if God asked for it. Was it David’s idea? Was he more concerned about Michal’s criticism of his dancing semi-nude before the Ark of the Covenant than he made out? Did he belatedly remember that her father lost God’s sanction for a dynasty because he too had acted as a priest? Did he also belatedly remember the commands of God about the need for scrupulous decency when ministering before the Ark? Did he then excuse himself on the basis the rules of the Levitical priesthood didn’t apply because he was following in the footsteps of Melchizedek?
It’s impossible to be sure, but something dodgy was going on. The appointment of his sons as priests ripped up the rulebook. Certainly the appointment of Samuel back in the day was a bending of the rules—although he was a Levite, he was not of the line of Aaron. But this is a whole new level.
These are just a few of the issues that we need to contend with, when it comes to David. We could go on to detail his disregard of his covenant with Jonathan, his broken promises to Saul, his lies to the priests of Nob, his torture of the people of Rabbah, his killing of the Moabite prisoners, and oh, yes, his sending for Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah and his troop. And that’s far from all.
David was a great king, but he was not a good one.
No one is good—except God alone.
Abraham’s mantle was stained and shredded by David, and then it was torn apart when his kingdom split into north and south under Jeroboam and Rehoboam. Jesus, surprisingly, does not put the two halves of the mantle back together when He comes to clean it up and pass it on. In the next session, we’ll uncover the identity of the nameless individuals I mentioned last time that He handed the pieces to. He didn’t grant it to celebrities in His own time, nor does He do so today. Although we may think of ourselves as worthless, despised and marginalised, Jesus entrusts us with a sacred charge: to mend the world, to heal history, to repair the wounds of the past, to finish the tasks that both Abraham and David left incomplete. And He empowers us to do so as He encourages us to make the right choices at the right moment with the right people in the right place. And He is Immanuel, God with us, to achieve that very end.
This is Grace Drops; I’m Anne Hamilton. May you be empowered by the grace of Jesus today.
Thank you to Lorna Skinner of www.riversofmusic.co.uk for the background music.
The question of whether Abraham was about to sacrifice Isaac on an Amorite threshing floor, as well as whether it was God or Belial who asked for the sacrifice in the first place is addressed in the paperback, Dealing with Kronos: Spirit of Abuse and Time, Strategies for the Threshold #9.
Elijah’s mantle is discussed in The Elijah Tapestry: John 1 and 21: Mystery, Majesty and Mathematics in John’s Gospel #1.
Moses’ mantle—and Reuben’s mantle—will be featured in The Lustral Waters: John 3 and 19: Mystery, Majesty and Mathematics in John’s Gospel #3. Available late 2024.
David’s mantle will be covered in The Inviolable Kingdom: John 4 and 18: Mystery, Majesty and Mathematics in John’s Gospel #4. Available 2025.
Please get in touch through the contact form at Armour Books if you are in the US, UK or Australia and there are availability/price issues at the retailer for any of these volumes.