Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  Jonathan’s body was taut. He waited. God does not change His mind.

  “Bring King Agag to me,” Samuel said.

  Everyone looked at Saul. “Go!” the king said. “Do as he says.”

  A few moments later, Jonathan saw the Amalekite king walking in front of the guards, head high. Clearly, he thought all the bitterness of death was behind him and he was safe in Saul’s care. He gave a nod to Saul and then lifted his head as he looked at Samuel. Was he waiting for an introduction?

  Samuel drew the sword from King Saul’s scabbard. “As your sword has killed the sons of many mothers, now your mother will be childless.” He raised the sword high and brought it down before the Amalekite could move.

  Agag’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his skull cleaved open.

  Everyone talked at once. Saul grabbed his sword and jerked it free. He shouted for his officers to dismiss their divisions. They could go home. The Amalekites were no longer a threat. He called to Abner. “We are going home to Gibeah.”

  Jonathan followed after Samuel. They walked together in silence for a long while, and then Samuel stopped and looked at him. “The Lord is grieved that He made Saul king over Israel.” He stood silent and erect.

  Jonathan felt the rejection as acutely as though he were responsible for all of his father’s sins. His shoulders heaved. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

  Samuel stepped forward and grasped Jonathan’s arm. “The Lord is your salvation. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

  “So be it.” Jonathan choked out the words.

  Samuel’s hold loosened. “I’m going home to Ramah.” He walked away, bent in sorrow.

  Though he didn’t know it then, it was the last time Jonathan would ever see his beloved mentor.

  Jonathan saw his father change after that day. In the first of his strange bouts of rage, Saul held his head and ranted. “I will not listen! I will not!” Grabbing a goblet, he threw it against a wall. “Why should I listen to you?” He overturned a table.

  Men watched from doorways, ducking back when the king turned in their direction. Jonathan, keeping watch outside his father’s chamber, sent them away. He didn’t want anyone to see the king like this. The whole of Israel would be in confusion—and easy prey to enemies—if word spread that Saul was mad.

  “He says he’ll end my dynasty!” Saul’s eyes blazed wildly. He ripped his tunic, mumbling. Sweat dripped. Saliva bubbled. “Why should I listen to you when you hate me?” He tore the turban from his head. “Get away from me! Leave me alone!” He swung around. “Abner!”

  Abner grabbed Jonathan’s arm, his eyes wide with fear. “We must do something for your father or all will be lost.”

  “I don’t know what to do. Talking to him does no good.”

  “Abner!”

  “Speak with your mother,” Abner whispered, his voice urgent. “Sometimes a woman knows ways to soothe a man’s temper.” He turned and entered the king’s chamber. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Have you sent someone to watch Samuel?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I want someone keeping an eye on him at all times. I want to know every move he makes . . .”

  Jonathan went to his mother. She was in new quarters, away from the king, who had taken a concubine. A servant led him into the room and he saw his mother working at her loom. She glanced up with a smile that quickly turned to a frown. “Sit. Tell me what troubles you.”

  He tried to find words. Looking at the multicolored sash she was making, he forced a smile.

  She followed his gaze and ran her hand over her work. “A gift for your father.”

  “He will wear it proudly.”

  “Did he send you?”

  “No.”

  She folded her hands. “I’ve heard about his spells, though you and Abner and the rest try to keep it secret.”

  Jonathan stood and went to the grated window. He didn’t want to imagine what could happen if word spread. His father was at his most vulnerable.

  “Tell me what’s happening, Jonathan. I have been shut away here with my servants.”

  “Some men say Father is possessed of an evil spirit.” He thought it more likely Saul’s guilt racked his mind. “But I think it’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “Sometimes, when I hear what he’s mumbling, I wonder if God isn’t trying to speak to him, and he’s hardening his heart and mind against Him.” He turned. “I don’t know what to do, Mother.”

  His mother sat with her head down. Then she rose and came to stand beside him at the window. She looked out for a moment and then faced him. “Your father has always loved the sound of a harp. Perhaps if you found someone to play for him when he suffers these spells—” she put her hand gently on his arm—“he might be soothed.”

  Jonathan mentioned his mother’s suggestion to his father’s servants, who in turn presented the idea to the king. “All right,” Saul said. “Find me someone who plays well, and bring him here.”

  One of the king’s servants sent by the tribe of Judah spoke up. “One of Jesse’s sons from Bethlehem is a talented harp player. Not only that—he is a brave warrior, a man of war, and has good judgment. He is also a fine-looking young man, and the Lord is with him.”

  Saul ordered he be sent for.

  The boy arrived a few days later with a donkey loaded with bread, a skin of wine, and a goat—all gifts so that the boy’s provisions would cost the king nothing. That night, when an evil spirit came upon the king, the musician was summoned from his bed.

  At the first sounds of the harp, the king calmed.

  “The Lord is my shepherd,” the boy sang softly, slowly.

  “I have all that I need.

  He lets me rest in green meadows;

  He leads me beside peaceful streams.”

  The king sat, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

  “He renews my strength.

  He guides me along right paths,

  bringing honor to His name.

  Even when I walk

  through the darkest valley,

  I will not be afraid,

  for You are close beside me.”

  Saul leaned back against the cushions as the boy sang. Jonathan watched his father relax and close his eyes. The boy had a clear, pleasing voice, but it was the words of his song that brought peace into the king’s chamber.

  A man close by whispered, “The boy sings praises to the king.”

  “No.” Jonathan looked at the boy. “He sings praises to God.”

  The song continued, filling the chamber with words and sound so free and sweet, violent men were calmed.

  “Your rod and your staff

  protect and comfort me.

  You prepare a feast for me

  in the presence of my enemies.

  You honor me by anointing my head with oil.

  My cup overflows with blessings.

  Surely Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me

  all the days of my life,

  and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.”

  As the last words and chords of the harp quivered to silence, Jonathan sighed. Oh, to have such confidence in God! He longed to feel at peace with the Lord. His soul yearned for such a relationship.

  “Sing another.” King Saul waved his hand.

  The boy plucked at his harp. “The heavens proclaim the glory of God,” he sang.

  “The skies display His craftsmanship.

  Day after day they continue to speak;

  night after night they make Him known. . . .”

  “Look,” someone whispered. “The king sleeps.”

  Jonathan had not seen his father this relaxed in weeks. His own muscles loosened. Everyone in the chamber seemed soothed. When the boy finished his song, the king roused slightly.

  “Sing another,” Abner told the boy.

  The boy sang of the Law this time. The Law is perfect! The Lord is trustworthy. The Law is right and tru
e! The Law carries fearful warning and great reward! Follow it and live!

  Listen, Father! Drink it in as you sleep.

  “May the words of my mouth

  and the meditation of my heart

  be pleasing to You,

  O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”

  The boy bowed his head, plucked the last few chords, and then sat in silence.

  Lord, here is one who shares my thoughts.

  Saul awakened slowly. “I am pleased with the boy. Send word to his father that I want him to stay here in my service. He can be one of my armor bearers.”

  “Yes, my lord. I will see to it immediately.”

  The king went to his bedchamber.

  Jonathan called to the Judean servant who was leading the boy outside. “Give the boy quarters inside the palace so that he may be quickly summoned should the king need him.”

  The servant bowed.

  “And give him finer garments. He serves the king now—not a flock of sheep.”

  The Philistines gathered forces at Socoh in the territory of Judah and made camp at Ephes-dammin. And once more King Saul and Jonathan went to war. Battle lines were drawn: the Philistines on one hill, and the Israelites on the other, with the valley of Elah between them.

  Where once Israel had fought boldly and routed the Philistines, they now were rooted in fear. Twice a day, once in the morning and later in the afternoon, the Philistine king sent forth his champion, Goliath, a warrior who was over nine feet tall. The man was a giant who wore a bronze helmet and coat of mail and bronze leg armor. What sort of man could wear over one hundred pounds of protective gear and still move so easily? Goliath’s shield bearer was not much smaller and led the way as Goliath strode confidently into the center of the valley.

  Day after day, Saul and Jonathan and all the rest quaked at the sight of him. They listened and trembled at the sound of the giant’s deep voice booming across the valley in defiance. Israel’s courage waned before the Philistine’s arrogance. The enemy lined up on the far hill facing them and delighted in their humiliation.

  “Why are you all coming out to fight?” Goliath roared. “I am the Philistine champion, but you are only the servants of Saul. Choose one man to come down here and fight me! If he kills me, then we will be your slaves.”

  The Philistine troops hooted and laughed.

  Goliath banged his shield with his sword. “But if I kill him, you will be our slaves!”

  The Philistines raised their swords and spears and roared their approval. “Where is your champion?” they chanted. “Send out your champion!”

  Saul retreated to his tent. “How long must I bear this?” he moaned, covering his ears. “Who will fight for me?”

  “Jonathan is our champion.” One of the advisors looked at him.

  Jonathan went cold at the thought of facing Goliath. He couldn’t go out against that giant. The man was half again his size!

  “No!” Saul turned. “I won’t have my son slaughtered before my eyes.”

  Abner stepped forward. “Offer a reward to any man who will go forth as our champion.”

  Saul scowled. “What reward would entice a man to certain death?”

  His officers all spoke at once:

  “Great wealth.”

  “Give him one of your daughters in marriage.”

  “Exempt his family from taxes. All these would be his if he can silence that monster!”

  “If—” Saul wiped the sweat from his face. “There is not a man in our kingdom who can stand against Goliath of Gath!”

  “Not to mention the others.”

  “What others?” Saul’s eyes darted from man to man.

  “Saph, for one.” Abner looked grim.

  Another spoke. “And Goliath has a brother equally mighty.”

  “There are at least four warriors who are said to be descended from Gath.”

  “Even if we found a man who could kill the Philistine champion, my lord, can their king be trusted to submit? Never!”

  “He will send another and another.”

  “Now you tell me.” Saul sank into despair.

  Weeks passed, and each morning, the armies again went out into battle position, facing one another across the valley. Each day, the Israelites shouted their war cry. And each day, Goliath came out mocking Israel and their God.

  “I defy the armies of Israel today! Send me a man who will fight me!”

  No one went out to answer his challenge.

  Jonathan wondered how much more the men could bear before they began to desert, going back to hiding out in caves and cisterns. Lord, help us! Send us a champion who can wipe the sweat of fear from our brows! God, do not desert us now!

  “What’s going on down there?” Abner growled, as a disturbance broke out a short distance away.

  “Just some men arguing.”

  Jonathan grew angry. “The Philistines will enjoy that! See to those men!” The last thing they needed was their own men fighting among themselves. Let them focus their anger upon the enemy and not their own brothers. A messenger ran to the ranking officer. A few minutes later, the officer came with his hand on a boy’s shoulder.

  “This boy is making trouble. He wants to speak with the king.”

  “You’re the harpist.” Jonathan frowned. What was he doing here?

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Come with me.”

  Saul turned, agitated, as they entered his tent.

  Jonathan lifted his hand from the boy’s shoulder. Released, the boy stepped forward boldly. “My father, Jesse, sent me with provisions for my older brothers. Eliab, Abinadab, and Shimea came to fight for the king.”

  “Leave the provisions and go home.” Saul waved him away. “This is no place for you.”

  “Don’t worry about this Philistine.” The boy took another step forward. “I’ll go fight him!”

  The military advisors stared. “You?” One of them laughed. “The foolishness of youth. The Philistine is almost twice your size.”

  Jonathan saw something in the shepherd boy’s eyes that gave him hope. “Let him speak!”

  The men fell silent. Perhaps they remembered that Jonathan had not been much older than this boy when he climbed the cliff to Micmash and God used him to rout the entire Philistine army! The boy looked at Jonathan, eyes glowing with recognition and respect.

  Saul looked the boy over. “You think you can become Israel’s champion?” He shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous! There’s no way you can fight this Philistine and possibly win! You’re only a boy, and he’s been a man of war since his youth.”

  Flushed with anger, the boy would not be turned away. “I have been taking care of my father’s sheep and goats. When a lion or a bear comes to steal a lamb from the flock, I go after it with a club and rescue the lamb from its mouth.” He reached out as though demonstrating. “If the animal turns on me, I catch it by the jaw and club it to death.” He hit his fist against the palm of his hand.

  The advisors snickered. Jonathan silenced them with a look.

  “I have done this to both lions and bears, and I’ll do it to this pagan Philistine, too, for he has defied the armies of the living God!”

  The boy understood what the king and advisors didn’t. The monster not only mocked the king and his army, but insulted the Lord God of heaven and earth!

  “The Lord who rescued me from the claws of the lion and the bear will rescue me from this Philistine!”

  Saul looked at Jonathan. Jonathan nodded. Surely the Lord Himself was with the boy as the Lord had been with his father at Jabesh-gilead and with him when he climbed the cliffs at Micmash. How else could the boy be filled with such fire and confidence?

  “All right, go ahead,” Saul said. “And may the Lord be with you! Bring my armor!” Saul dressed the boy in his own tunic and coat of arms. He put the bronze helmet on his head. The boy sank lower with each piece added. Finally Saul handed over his sword. “Go. And the Lord be with you.”

  Jonatha
n frowned. The boy could hardly walk in the king’s armor. The sword bumped clumsily against his thighs. When he tried to draw it from the scabbard, he almost dropped it.

  Abner stared, appalled. “Will we send a child to do a man’s work?”

  Jonathan glared. “Would you have the king go? I’m too much of a coward! How about you, Abner? Are you willing to go?” He looked round at the others. “Is any one of us courageous enough to stand and fight Goliath?”

  The boy handed the sword back to King Saul. “I can’t go in these.” He removed the helmet and armor and fine tunic. “I’m not used to them.” He pulled a sling from his belt and went outside.

  All the men talked at once.

  Jonathan went out and saw the boy heading for a dry creek bed. He stooped and weighed stones in his hand. He decided on a round, smooth stone and placed it in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag.

  “What’s your name?”

  The boy straightened and bowed his head in respect to Jonathan. “David, my lord prince, son of Jesse of Bethlehem.”

  “You do know Goliath has a brother?”

  “Does he?” David selected another stone.

  “There are said to be three other giants of Gath among the Philistine ranks.”

  David picked up three more stones, added them to his shepherd’s bag. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  Jonathan felt an assurance he hadn’t felt since Micmash. “God is with you!”

  David bowed low, and then walked toward the valley floor.

  Jonathan ran back up the hill to stand with his father and watch.

  Saul stood, shoulders slumped, dejected. “I have sent that boy out there to die.”

  “Let’s watch and see what the Lord will do.”

  The Hebrew warriors moved to stand in battle array, murmuring as David walked down into the valley with nothing but his sling, a pouch of five smooth stones, and his shepherd’s staff.

  A commotion started in the line as David’s relatives saw him striding down the hill. “What’s he doing? Get out of there!” The officers ordered silence.

  Jonathan looked down into the valley again. He prayed fervently. “God, be with him as You were with me at Micmash. Let all Israel see what the Lord can do!”