A Captain in Israel

by Alex Chappell

  All her life she had lived under the dark shadow of bloodshed and war. It seemed Israel was always at odds with one or more of its neighbors. If her people weren’t being attacked by the Philistines, it was the Amalekites or the Ammonites or the Moabites. There was always some enemy intent on driving the children of Israel from their land. She had already lost two brothers and two uncles to the sword, and she didn’t want to lose a son as well. But she feared she and Caleb could talk to Tobiah until they crumbled to dust, and their words would avail him nothing. Tobiah was a strong-willed child. When he set his mind to something – good or bad – there was no amount of counsel that could alter his course.

  Athaliah stood, leaned her broom against a wall, and retrieved a bowl and pitcher for the ritual washings. There was nothing more she could do about the house with the limited time she had.

  If only Samuel’s visit, instead of stirring her worries, could make them go away.

  Chapter Two

  ב

  But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his

  countenance, or on the height of his stature;

  because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth

  not as man seeth; for man looketh on the

  outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

  1 Samuel 16:7

  Puzzling was the best word Tobiah could think of to describe this odd experience. He didn’t understand much about sacrifices or their varied purposes, but he did understand what was going on here was very much out of the ordinary. One by one, Jesse’s sons were called to stand before Samuel, and the prophet stared searchingly at each of them.

  The eldest, Eliab, had his turn first. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties, and he possessed a thick, dark beard that gave him an imposing, bear-like look. He not only looked like a bear – in Tobiah’s opinion he was as surly as one. But Samuel seemed to see something he liked, and he nodded a little as Eliab stood before him.

  There was a long moment of silence. All eyes were upon the prophet as his head bobbed approvingly. After a moment, however, his features grew distant and thoughtful, and he called for Jesse’s next son.

  Abinadab had a shorter, narrower frame. He looked more like his father and had the most sober temperament of all the brothers. Samuel observed him, too, before shaking his head.

  "Neither has the Lord chosen this."

  Chosen this? What was that supposed to mean? The Lord hadn’t chosen Abinadab? Hadn’t chosen him for what? Tobiah glanced over at his parents, but their faces looked blank and confused. Turning his attention back to the prophet, he waited to see what would happen next.

  After Abinadab came Shammah then Nethaneel then Raddai and finally Ozem. All met with the same careful scrutiny. All seemed to leave Samuel disappointed.

  "The Lord has not chosen these," the prophet said, turning finally to face Jesse. "Are all your children here?"

  "There remains only the youngest," Jesse nervously said. "And he’s keeping the sheep."

  "Send and fetch him. We won’t sit for the meal until he comes."

  The elders murmured. Tobiah wasn’t sure if they were discontented because the feast was being delayed or if they were puzzled by Samuel’s curious comments and behavior. Tobiah took advantage of the moment to capture Jesse’s attention.

  "I’ll find David," he said waving a hand. "I’m the fastest runner here. If you tell me where he’s gone, I’ll go and bring him back."

  He wasn’t being boastful. In Bethlehem Tobiah was well-known for his swift feet. He could beat anyone from Bethlehem to Hebron in a long-distance footrace and could reach David quickly.

  Jesse glanced at Caleb. When Caleb nodded, he nodded, too.

  "Do you remember the place where David killed the lion last spring?"

  "Yes. He showed me the vale where it happened."

  "He and one of our hired men have taken the flocks to the same spot. Have him leave the hired man to watch the sheep, and tell him to get here as soon as possible."

  Glad to be away from the town elders’ stifling presence, Tobiah grinned and darted from the house. Moments later, he was jogging through the hills, contentedly breathing the fresh wilderness air.

  It was fortunate winter had finally passed so spring could settle in. If not for that, Bethlehem’s shepherds would still be grazing their sheep on the Judean wilderness’s eastern slopes – a place where the hills touched the Dead Sea. Even for Tobiah, that would have been a lengthy run. But the sheep were kept nearer to home now, and it took no time at all to reach the quiet vale where David watched Jesse’s flocks. When Tobiah arrived, he found David seated atop a large brown rock, holding his curved shepherd’s staff in the crook of his arm. David looked up in surprise and flashed Tobiah a welcoming grin.

  "Shalom, cousin! Have you finally decided to take up my challenge. Are you ready to face me in a contest with the sling and stone?"

  "Not today," Tobiah replied, panting and shaking his head. "I’m here to bring you back to my father’s house. You’re needed there immediately."

  "Why? Is something wrong?"

  David hopped down from his rocky perch, his brow furrowed with concern.

  "No. Nothing’s wrong. Not unless being called to stand before a prophet is something to cause worry."

  "A prophet? What are you talking about, Tobiah?"

  "Samuel has come to Bethlehem to make a sacrifice, and he won’t sit for the sacrificial meal until he sees you. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but he’s already had all your brothers before him. Now he wants to see you. I don’t think we should keep him waiting."

  David’s blue eyes were bright with curiosity, but a worried frown still creased his face.

  "Does the prophet know I’m watching the sheep? Does he know my father needs me here?"

  "Yes, he knows. But you’re still supposed to come to the feast. Your father said to have you leave your hired man with the sheep while you return with me to Bethlehem. Hurry! We’re keeping Samuel waiting. And, more importantly, I’m hungry."

  David nodded, stared uncertainly at the sheep, and then called across the grassy vale to the hired shepherd.

  "Amos! I’ve been called back to town. Will you take care of things here until I get back?"

  The shepherd waved, and David turned back to Tobiah. Together they headed toward Bethlehem at a brisk, trotting pace.

  "Samuel didn’t happen to mention why he wants to see me, did he?"

  "No."

  "Not even a hint?"

  "Nobody knows what he wants. He just showed up, said he came to make a sacrifice, and asked my father to lead him to your father’s house. He invited your entire family to the sacrifice, and once your family was gathered together – all but you – he… Well, I’ve already told you everything I know."

  "You don’t know much."

  "Maybe not. But neither of us will know what’s happening until we get there. Hurry up! We might be missing something important!"

  David now wore a deeply troubled expression, and that made Tobiah feel uncomfortable, too. He’d never seen his boldly self-assured cousin look anything but calmly certain. Then again, Samuel seemed to make even Bethlehem’s elders break out in a cold nervous sweat. Maybe David had good cause to feel worried.

  "Whatever the prophet wants you for," Tobiah said in a quick attempt to put David more at ease, "it can’t be for anything bad."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "I can be sure of it because you’re the most faithful person in Bethlehem. Let’s face it. If God wanted to punish you for some hidden transgression, He wouldn’t waste his prophet’s time. He would have let the lion finish you off when it attacked your flocks last spring."

  David laughed, and Tobiah was relieved to see his cousin’s eyes sparkle again.

  "Race to see who gets there first?" Tobiah asked.

  "Of course," David said, breaking into a sprint. "Try not to choke on my dust!"

  —

  An awkward silence fe
ll over the courtyard as Samuel motioned for David to step forward. Perhaps it was a trick of the slanting, afternoon light; but it seemed to Caleb as if all the color had drained from David’s normally ruddy complexion.

  The boy looked nervous and not at all eager to be receiving this unexpected attention; and the hostile, disapproving looks of his eldest brother, Eliab, probably did little to make the situation easier. Samuel, however, looked upon David with kindly eyes. When he spoke, his voice almost sounded fatherly.

  "David, son of Jesse, you have found favor in the eyes of the Lord God of Israel. He has called you to a high and holy calling. Kneel before me that I may anoint you to this office."

  David looked quickly at his father, perplexed; but Jesse motioned for him to do as the prophet commanded. Uncertainly, David knelt and humbly bowed his head.

  Caleb watched carefully as Samuel pushed aside his outer robes to take a horn of consecrated oil from his belt. It seemed unlikely even a prophet would travel with such an object unless he’d prepared the oil beforehand, knowing he would need it.

  The expressions on Bethlehem’s elders’ faces ranged from mild surprise to outright scowling confusion. Samuel, however, ignored everyone but David as he placed oil on the boy’s head.

  "Let us all remember," he said, turning his eyes upon each town elder and each member of David’s family, "that although men look upon the outward appearance, the Lord looketh upon the heart." This said, he turned his attention back to David and placed both hands upon the young man’s head.

  Never had Caleb listened with more intensity to the words falling from another man’s mouth. Obviously, this was no ordinary event. This anointing was something of great importance. But when Samuel finished pronouncing words of blessing and counsel upon David’s head, it was clear to no one – apparently not even David – what calling or task Samuel had anointed him to perform. The prophet’s words were veiled, their meanings unclear. Puzzled expressions covered the faces of all in attendance.

  Samuel now led David to a corner to speak with him in private. A soft buzz of whispered conversations immediately filled the courtyard. Caleb stood not far from Eliab and Abinadab, and he caught the first part of their bewildered discussion.

  "What was that all about? Did you understand anything he said?"

  "No," Eliab grumbled. "Just something about David ‘being a man after the Lord’s own heart’ and something about him becoming ‘a captain of Israel.’"

  "So is he to become a Nazarite – like Sampson – is that what the prophet meant?"

  "I don’t know. A ‘captain’ sounds more like an officer in Saul’s army. But it would be Saul who chooses his captains. Not Samuel."

  Similar discussions were taking place all around him, but Caleb was now lost in his own thoughts.

  A man after the Lord’s own heart. A captain of Israel. Where had he heard these words before? Why did they sound so familiar?

  And then it hit him like a lightning strike. Caleb remembered the moment so many years ago when he; his brother, Baruch; and Israel’s dwindling army stood as mute witnesses while the prophet chastised Saul for offering an unauthorized sacrifice to the Lord.

  "You have done foolishly," Samuel said to the king. "You have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God. For the Lord would have established your kingdom upon Israel forever. But now your kingdom shall not continue. The Lord has sought a man after his own heart, and the Lord has commanded him to be captain over his people, because you have not kept that which the Lord commanded you…"

  A man after his own heart… Captain… A captain over God’s people. Could it possibly be? Had David just been anointed to the kingship?

  "No…" Caleb shook his head and tried to think of another explanation. "It’s not possible." But his thoughts were interrupted by Samuel who had made his way to the center of the small, confused crowd.

  "The sacrificial feast awaits us," Samuel announced. "Let us all gather round the table. Let us give thanks to God and partake together of the minchah."

  David and Tobiah, at mention of food, fell eagerly into step behind the prophet. They were boys. Two regular boys. It was impossible one of them could have just been called to supplant Israel’s king.

  And yet those worrisome words continued to burn in Caleb’s mind.

  A man after the Lord’s own heart. A captain of Israel…

  Chapter Three

  ג

  Let our lord now command thy servants,

  which are before thee, to seek out a

  man, who is a cunning player on an harp…

  1 Samuel 16:16

  Gibeah, 1064 B.C.

  "So? What does he look like? Is he handsome? Is he as beautiful as everyone says he is?"

  Michal bounced on her toes, her face glowing with childlike anticipation, and Mara struggled to hold back a smile.

  There was no shortage of young men coming and going from Saul’s hilltop citadel, and any one of them would have been pleased to win the notice of the king’s beautiful, youngest daughter. It was ironic, therefore, that the one who finally captured Michal’s attention was a shepherd from Bethlehem who she had never even seen.

  "I suppose it all depends on what your definition of handsome is," Mara said, keeping her face straight and purposely speaking as vaguely as possible. She was enjoying this opportunity to torment her royal cousin, even if it could last only a few brief moments. "I suppose many girls might think him quite good-looking. But maybe others would not. I could see him and think one thing when you would see him and think another."

  "What are you talking about?"

  It was in Michal’s nature to grow quickly impatient, so Mara knew she wouldn’t be able to make her game last long. She’d definitely found a sore spot, though.

  "You’re not even making sense!" Michal complained. "Either he’s handsome or he isn’t. Which is it? I command you to give me an answer!"

  "All right. What would you like me to start with?" Mara asked. "Would you prefer I start with a description of his eyes? Or should I tell you how tall he is and talk about the features of his face?"

  "I don’t know. Start with anything! His hair. Describe his hair!"

  "Dark, slightly wavy, and falling just above his shoulders."

  Michal’s face lit up.

  "And his build?" she demanded. "Is he muscular? Is he tall?"

  "Yes. Yes to both questions. He’s almost but not quite as tall as Jonathan, and he has broad shoulders and large, strong arms."

  "And his eyes?" Michal asked, breathless now. "What color are his eyes?"

  Mara gave an exaggerated smile and turned her own eyes toward the ceiling.

  "His eyes? They’re so difficult to describe. So indescribable I wouldn’t even know where to begin."

  "They’re really that remarkable?"

  "I didn’t say that," Mara answered. "I just said it would be difficult to describe them. His back was turned to me the entire time, so it’s hard to describe what I’ve never actually seen."

  Michal glared at Mara, snatched a crimson bolster from her carved cedar bed, and playfully hit Mara over the head with it.

  "You can be so annoying sometimes, Mara bat Gideon! You know that, don’t you? You wouldn’t dare be so cheeky if you weren’t my cousin!"

  There was a forced scowl on Michal’s face, but Mara could see the barest hint of a smile beneath it. Michal was more amused than annoyed. Perhaps she was enjoying this game as much as Mara.

  "Since you obviously have nothing interesting to tell me about my father’s new harpist," Michal said, "I suppose I’ll have to send you back to get a better look. Where is he? Still in the palace? Or is he in the servants’ quarters?"

  "Here in the palace," Mara replied. "But he’s playing the harp for your father. I don’t think it would be wise to disturb the king when he’s trying to relax. Maybe you should have me wait in the courtyard. I can probably catch a glimpse of David there."

  Michal frowned. Even as impetuous as she was, Mi
chal knew how dangerous it was to tempt Saul’s wrath. Maybe she, like Mara, had heard the whispers passing back and forth between the palace servants. It was rumored the king’s mind was deteriorating – that he was slowly going mad. Some even thought an evil spirit was to blame for the sudden and dangerous fits that came over him. Mara didn’t know which if either of these rumors was true, but she did know darkness – like a forceful gathering of storm clouds – had descended upon Saul and his household. She didn’t want to be caught lurking around his bedchamber when one of his angry moods came over him.

  "It’s never good to bother Father when he retires to his chambers," Michal said. "If I send you to spy on him, the guards will send you away. But if we go together – if we just peek into his room and leave before he knows we’re there – that wouldn’t be so bad."

  Mara blanched and took an unconscious step away from her cousin. "But the guards… They’ll turn us away. You just said so yourself."

  "I said they would turn you away. They won’t turn me away. They wouldn’t dare. I’m the king’s daughter. Come on! We’ll go together! It will be an adventure. It will be fun."

  Michal didn’t give Mara a chance to argue. She took Mara’s hand in hers and towed her out of the room. They went down a dark hallway, crossed the empty courtyard, and entered another corridor. A harp’s beautiful, soft strains echoed to their ears.

  "Is that him?" Michal whispered. "Is it David?"

  "Playing the harp?"

  "Of course playing the harp! What else would I be asking about?"

  "Yes. That’s him."

  "I definitely have to see this man for myself," Michal said, staring into space and sighing. "If he’s half as beautiful as his music, I’ll be gazing upon the man of my dreams!"

  The two girls rounded a corner, Mara hanging back. Both jumped as two spears swung down in front of them, blocking their way.

  "You’re not allowed here."

  Michal, quickly regaining her composure, stepped forward with an imperious look on her face.

  "Not allowed? What kind of rubbish is this? Don’t you see who I am? I’m the king’s daughter. Let me pass!"