As we heard last session, Saul achieved two great national reconciliations—that of the people of Israel with the citizens of Jabesh Gilead and that of the townsfolk of Gibeah with a priest of the hill country of Ephraim.
But he failed in achieving any reconciliation between his hometown and the citizens of Bethlehem. Faced with a young giant-killer who received more honour than he did as king, he brooded with jealousy and tried to kill David.
‘Saul has slain his thousands,’ sang the women of Israel, ‘and David his tens of thousands.’
1 Samuel 18:7 NIV
Hearing this, Saul couldn’t navigate a space where he no longer had top honour.
Reconciliation always involves honour—either forgiveness for dishonour or for honour stolen, as well as repentance for dishing out dishonour or for its theft.
Going back to Esau himself, we see these matters of honour in stark relief. Jacob not only coveted Esau’s birthright, he coveted what it meant to be the firstborn—the honour that came with being the ‘go’el’, the kinsman-redeemer for the family. The double portion of inheritance assigned to the firstborn son was to enable him to fulfil his duties as the provider for all of the widows and the orphans who might come along, to be responsible (at least before the days of Moses) for any priestly offerings needed on behalf of the family as a whole, to be the primary avenger of blood. There was honour in being the firstborn, as well as the role of protector of honour attached to it.
So when Jacob extorted the birthright from Esau, he laid claim to the accompanying honour as well. Whatever Jacob’s legal position with regard to Esau selling his birthright, Jacob not only gained it dishonourably through coercion, but then went about ensuring he would receive the blessing from his father in the most dishonourable way. He deceived Isaac, thereby not only dishonouring him, but also stealing honour from him.
Dishonour is a defilement given to another; the theft of honour is a blessing stolen from another.
So, when we’re looking at mantle repair for the legacy of Esau, it’s both dishonour as well as the theft of honour that need addressing.
By the time of Saul and David, this need for reconciliation culminated in a complex tangle of inherited issues involving two branches of the descendants of Esau. In particular, the loss of the kingship by Saul and the gaining of it by David revolved around decisions involving the Amalekites, a tribe descended from Esau’s grandson, Amalek.
After the civil war in which 98% of the men of Benjamin and all the women were killed, the survivors apparently no longer trusted their fellow Israelites. If the names in Saul’s family are indicative, then an alliance was forged between the tribe of Benjamin and the people of Edom. Those names are evocative of Edomite kings and deities. Saul has a chief herdsman, an executive manager, Doeg the Edomite. When Saul commands some of his troops to kill the priests of the town of Nob for supporting David, they are hesitant. It is Doeg who carries out his command, foreshadowing another massacre by a later Edomite: Herod the Great.
The holocaust of children is a limitation on the exercise of Esau’s mantle. Reconciliation is the ideal but not the imperative.
We see this in the eternal war that God declares against Amalek. After the Israelites left Egypt, they were forty days into their journey to Mount Sinai when they were attacked by the Amalekites. After the battle, God declared:
‘Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.’
Exodus 17:16 NIV
It’s difficult to understand why this battle was so different from any other conflict that God would declare such hostility towards Amalek. It’s only when we see the recapitulation of this story by Jesus during His arrest that we can understand who the Amalekites were targeting in their initial foray. They were picking off the children—apparently to sacrifice them to their national godling, Moloch, with the purpose of putting him on the throne of heaven.
God does not tolerate child sacrifice, nor expect reconciliation with those who persist in it. In fact, here’s where the weakness in Esau’s mantle lies: unsanctified mercy, unredeemed pity, and a desire to reconcile with the enemies of God and those who want to install a king in heaven who can only be satiated with the lives of innocent children.
It is Saul’s disobedience in regard to the Amalekites that results in the loss of his kingship. He spares Agag, king of the Amalekites, and as a consequence, Samuel tells him:
‘Because you have rejected the word of the Lord,
He has rejected you as king.’
1 Samuel 15:23 NIV
David, on the other hand, gains the kingdom, indirectly at least, because of the Amalekites. He had allied himself with the Philistines, covenanting with the king of Gath as his bodyguard and servitor and been rewarded with the fortress of Ziklag. David consistently lied to the king about where he was raiding—claiming to be raiding Israel when in fact he was attacking Geshur, Gezer and Amalek, leaving no survivors who could report his duplicity. The Amalekites apparently began looking for the marauders exterminating their towns and discovered Ziklag, defended only by women and children, because the men were away with David, working for the king of Gath.
Now the other Philistine rulers were suspicious of David’s presence in their army and protested so strongly that Achish, the king of Gath, released David from his covenantal obligations and sent him away. This gave David the opportunity to fulfil his covenantal obligations to Saul and particularly to Jonathan without violating those to Achish. But this is where his decision-making gets messy and he winds up making God the fall-guy.
When David returns to Ziklag, the women and children are all gone—taken by the Amalekites. Of course they didn’t kill them—they were prime sacrificial victims for worship of Moloch. David inquires of God about pursuing the captives. Think about this for a moment. Why is it necessary to consult God? Because David doesn’t want to choose. He doesn’t want to breach his covenant with Saul and Jonathan but he doesn’t want to abandon his own wives or those of his men. Instead of sending his troops after the captives and going alone to aid Saul and Jonathan (thereby fulfilling both obligations), he chooses a solution whereby, if ever he’s questioned in the future, he can avoid blame by saying God made the choice.
David goes on to pursue the Amalekites, to destroy all but four hundred of them who fled on camels—reminding us of the remnant of the tribe of Benjamin left after the civil war—and then to recover everything taken from Ziklag—all the women, children and plunder.
As a result of this conflict with the Amalekites, David did not go to join Jonathan and Saul during their last stand on Mount Gilboa. Who knows if the war might have had a different ending had David fulfilled his obligations as the covenant defender of both king and prince? Perhaps it may not have. But very likely, Saul would not have made a covenant with Death and with the grave on the night before he died—a covenant that still, a thousand years later, needed cancellation by Jesus.
Saul failed to bring about the final national reconciliation that was needed with the people of Bethlehem; yet made the mistake of trying to reconcile with Agag, king of the Amalekites. David, though Esau’s mantle was not his, also failed to bring about the national reconciliation that could have been achieved through his marriage to Michal. She confronted him about his dishonour to God through his obscene dancing; he was so angry he apparently never approached her again.
David gradually stripped away all the remaining honour of Saul’s family: he permitted seven of Saul’s descendants to be executed by the Gibeonites, allowing massive defilement on the land immediately facing the Tabernacle; after initial kindness to Mephibosheth, he seized his land because of a servant’s lie but, on discovering the falsehood, told Mephibosheth to share it and sort it out himself—as if one lame man with a single son could confront a devious servant with fifteen sons. Further, there is a possibility that one of Saul’s sons was the guardian of the Ark of the Covenant, so in moving it to Jerusalem, rather than reuniting it with the Tabernacle, David was further depriving Saul’s family of honour. Uzzah, who died while trying to steady the Ark, may have been Michal’s nephew—thus her reaction to David dancing may have been tinged with the grief-stricken thought that solemn rejoicing was more appropriate than a lewd display that violated the principle of scrupulous decency required before the Ark as described in Exodus 20:26.
Esau’s mantle, while it is primarily for reconciliation, is complex in its outworking. It’s important to recall that reconciliation has two parts: forgiveness on the one hand, repentance on the other. Without these two aspects partnering together, it is unwise to renew the relationship on anything like its former footing, particularly when abuse is involved. Esau’s mantle is therefore not a legacy that looks for restoration at any cost. Without the slow rebuilding of trust, unsanctified mercy, unredeemed pity and unholy honour can defile the mantle so that its legacy is geared more towards the enemies of God than towards fulfilling the Lord’s assignment of bringing brothers and sisters of every race and language together in unity and peace.
This is Grace Drops and I’m Anne Hamilton. May Jesus of Nazareth restore and reconcile your nation.
Thank you to Lorna Skinner of www.riversofmusic.co.uk for the background music.
John’s gospel is an epic poem in the mirror-reflective style of Hebrew prophetic poetry. Many commentators have noticed this and shown how the matching pairs line up. However, they haven’t looked beyond the loveliness of the design to the clues offered by the clues embedded in the symmetry. John reveals the inheritance given to specific disciples—the mantles of the patriarchs, prophets and kings that were handed on by Jesus as specific legacies: Elijah’s, Joseph’s, Reuben’s, Jacob’s, David’s, Esau’s… and more! The Elijah Tapestry, The Summoning of Time, The Lustral Waters, The Inviolable Kingdom and Bathing in Bronze (coming late 2026) work verse by verse from the front, matching to various verses from the back to unveil the not-so-hidden secrets of the mantles.