Missionary Josh Montague, preached this message on November 24, 2024. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Audio Transcript
Well, just as promised earlier, I am back up here, and you can go ahead and take your Bibles and turn to First Samuel, Chapter 14, which will be a different passage than often preached by guest preachers. In fact, I might be one of the first to preach this as a guest preacher—perhaps here, perhaps anywhere. And it is a strange story. I was talking to someone before the service, and I just have this habit of when someone gives me the opportunity to preach on any text that I want, of going to kind of the back corners of scripture that no one really looks at that often and kind of trying to turn a light on in there and show some of the beauty of the more obscure passages that you aren’t as familiar with, perhaps.
So we’re going to examine a story in this wonderful book about King Saul, and I think it’s going to be kind of fun. I’m looking forward to it once again here. So First Samuel, Chapter 14. Before I get there, because it is a long story, but it’s also complicated a little bit, let me pray and ask God, because I can’t do this without His help. And so we’re going to ask Him for His help.
Father, your word is good and true, and we have the joy this morning of opening it and hearing what you have told your people. Sometimes you tell your people commands; sometimes you tell your people stories of what you have done in the past. And this story is profitable for us. So help us to understand it, help us to grow because of it, and use it to encourage and challenge us this morning. We pray these things in Christ’s name. Amen.
Well, I believe it was the summer of 1999 when I took what would become my longest backpacking trip ever. I’ve done some short backpacking trips; I’ve done a few in Michigan, where I grew up. But we were living in Oregon. We had gotten married a couple of years before and moved out there so I could go to seminary. As seminary was winding down, I wanted to take a minorly epic backpacking trip. My dad and my brother-in-law came out, and we tackled the Timberline Trail. It goes right around Mount Hood, Oregon, just this beautiful, stunning trail about 40 miles long.
I grew up in central Michigan, and if you know central Michigan and that part of central Michigan, it is the flattest area. I mean, I’ve been to Florida, I’ve been to Kansas, and central Michigan is right up there in terms of flatness. There are not these things, these hills, anywhere around. It’s just cornfields, bean fields, and wheat fields—the occasional tree. When we talk about elevation in central Michigan, we’re usually talking about the height of someone’s silo, okay? Not a mountain, nothing like that. In Oregon, they have these things called mountains, and they’re big. The trails that they build out there go up the mountain and down the mountain, up the mountain. I mean, it’s always you’re going up or you’re going down. You never—Oregonians don’t know how to walk on flat surfaces. They have no clue. They get a little tripped up because they’re always going up or down.
So, me being from the Midwest, I was not quite used to either the elevation or the up-and-down trail. This became quite an endeavor for me. It was a great trip; it was gorgeous. These kinds of pictures are all—I mean, this is what you see around every corner there. But it was a hard trip. We pushed hard, we worked hard, and we didn’t eat well. We ate a lot of poorly dehydrated chicken, oatmeal, rice, that kind of stuff. By the end of four days, my dad, my brother-in-law, and I were ready for a big meal. So we got back to our car and we started driving back to Portland, where our home was.
The first place to eat that we saw that looked decent was in a little town called Zigzag, Oregon. One of my favorite town names ever: Zigzag, Oregon. I can’t remember the name of the place, but I do remember the hamburger. I remember that hamburger because, after four days of hard hiking in the wilderness, that hamburger stood out. This is an approximate rendition of me eating that hamburger. The hamburger there was a half pound of ground beef topped with a thick ham steak, topped with multiple slices of different types of cheese, topped with an over-easy egg, and then topped for good measure with a few slices of good thick bacon. If there was lettuce or tomato in there, it was undiscoverable amidst all the protein and meat.
But that was—it might have been the greatest meal I have ever had in my life. I was so hungry and so sick of rice and chicken, and I just wanted a burger. And this was the greasiest—I mean, I’m pretty sure I took a—you can take that picture off now, okay? It’s not an actual picture, for the record, but I’m sure it took a year or two off my life just eating that. It was amazing. It was amazing. Once that thing hit the table, man, we were just—we each had our own too. That was the great thing. My dad and my brother-in-law never enjoyed a meal like that. It just sticks in my mind. Even though it’s almost, what, 30 years ago, 25 years ago?
I don’t know if you’ve ever been that hungry, where you just worked so hard, you ate poorly for so long that you’re just ready for a good meal. You’re starving, you’re ready. If you ever read the memoirs of Holocaust survivors, it’s amazing how much time they would spend during their day just thinking about different meals and food because they weren’t receiving that. It consumed them in so many ways.
Well, the story in the first book of Samuel—we’re going to come to this and make a connection in just a second. The story, though, in the first book of Samuel starts with the prophet Samuel. God raises up Samuel to be a prophet to His people, to speak His word to His people. Eventually, one of the things that Samuel does is anoint a king for the people of Israel. They wanted a king, and Samuel was commissioned to anoint Saul as their first king. Saul, however, became a huge disappointment as king.
In chapter 13, right before the story that we’re going to look at, Saul oversees a sacrifice that is unlawful. It goes against what God has commanded and is consequently told by the prophet Samuel that Saul, your kingdom shall not continue. Someone else will take Saul’s throne. So we have that as the setting for chapter 14, where we’ll be.
Chapter 14 then introduces us to Saul’s fearless and brave, daring, strong son Jonathan, who almost single-handedly defeats a Philistine garrison. Meanwhile, while Jonathan and his bodyguard are up there fighting the Philistines, Dad is under the shade of a pomegranate tree, likely trying to just get away from the battle and avoid conflict. Saul has that ability to do that. You remember the story of Goliath—some people just know how to avoid a fight, right? Some people know how to throw a rock at a hornet’s nest and then get ahead of everybody else on the way out.
As we get into our passage, Saul was hoping to avoid the fight, but Jonathan started beating that hornet’s nest, and the hornets start coming out, and now the battle comes to Saul, who seems to be trying to avoid it. So we’re going to pick up the story in verse 24, and I’m going to read a verse or two, and we’ll pause, examine that, read another couple verses, pause, and examine that. But let’s start in chapter 14, verse 24. Here’s the situation:
The men of Israel had been hard-pressed that day, so Saul had laid an oath on the people, saying, “Cursed be the man who eats food until it is evening and I am avenged on my enemies.”
Okay, so the Philistines, provoked by Jonathan’s victory, now mount an attack. The men of Israel are hard-pressed; they take a beating, they go into war. And Saul now makes this oath—this interesting oath. Nobody gets to eat until we defeat these guys, and I am avenged. Verse 23 says that the Lord saved Israel that day. What happened after Jonathan went on his little commando mission was that the Philistines were so confused by Jonathan’s sneak attack that they started killing each other. It’s just a chaotic scene, and that chaotic battle, as the Philistines are attacking each other and not knowing who’s who, stretches out and reaches Saul, who’s trying to avoid battle.
Verse 23 then says the battle passed beyond Beth Aven. So Saul and the Israelite army, who weren’t in the original fight, now have to take up their weapons and join the fight. And they’re hard-pressed for a day. King Saul in the book of First Samuel is a tragic figure. He was thrust into the role reluctantly as king. He just seems confused and lost most of the time. He’s impulsive, he’s impatient, he’s jealous. He just seems lost as the type of king and leader that Israel needs and wants.
So when the battle finally makes its way to him, he blurts out this confusing and seemingly hasty oath: “No one gets to eat until the fighting’s done and we’ve won, boys. No one eats or they’re cursed.” Now, hungry soldiers need food just like hungry hikers need giant hamburgers. Hungry soldiers need food. Some Bible scholars have tried to justify Saul’s oath by infusing it with holy intentions. It’s kind of this oath he makes to God, but I don’t think the text allows us to go there.
Saul, after Jonathan’s victory—his son’s victory—now senses an opportunity to take some of the glory of this victory for himself. And he calls his people to finish this job. So no one, no one gets to eat until he finishes this job. And I am avenged. I am avenged. Did you notice that? So he makes this oath, this kind of rash, hasty oath.
When I was a kid, it was just me and my sister. We were the only two kids in the family. Jenny is about a year and a half younger than me, so we got along just perfectly well all the time. There was never any fighting or squabbling in our home—just perfect peace and harmony between bro. No, there wasn’t. We fought a lot. One of the things we did fight about was when we knew we were going to go to the store, when my mom was taking us to the store for something. When you go to the car, you always want to get the first seat, and you know you want to sit in the front. There were no, like, laws about where you could sit back then. But whether you were getting going to the car or you got home and you’re going back into the house, whenever you get out and you’re heading towards that spot, it would inevitably turn into competition.
My sister and I competed over everything. Everything. It’s just fun. It’s a lot of fun. I enjoy it a lot. But we would always kind of say when we’re heading towards the car or when we’re heading back towards the house, we get out of the car and then we would say, “Last one to the door” or “Last one to the car is a what?” Okay? Isn’t that weird that we say that? It’s a strange statement to make—that kind of curse pronouncement oath upon our family members. I don’t know why we said this. I don’t ever remember fearing being transformed into a literal rotten egg if I lost. I probably would have run much faster if I had that sort of fear.
But that statement, that competitive statement, motivated both me and my sister to move. I also hope that if our rotten egg curse was actually effective in producing what it proclaimed or warned about, we would not be so hasty to utter it. Last one—can you imagine what would happen if I looked back after winning and my sister had literally turned into a rotten egg? I would have felt horrible. What did I say? What have I done? She’s now—I have no idea why we say that. There’s probably some story; you guys can look it up on the Internet that finds out.
But we make these statements that sometimes we don’t think about too often. Saul, as the king of Israel, was supposed to lead according to and enforce God’s law. Here’s what part of God’s law said to the people of Israel: If anyone thoughtlessly takes an oath to do anything, whether good or evil, in any matter, one might carelessly swear about, even though they are unaware of it, but then learn of it and realize their guilt. When anyone becomes aware that they are guilty in any of these matters, they must confess in what they have sinned.
So a hasty oath is a sin according to Leviticus chapter 5. If you read the next few verses, you find out that they have to bring a lamb or a goat to the priest, who will offer it as a sacrifice for their guilt offering for making that hasty oath. So be careful to make hasty vows, or you’re out a lamb or a goat. A few kings after Saul—his grand David—David’s son Solomon writes in Proverbs 20, “It is a snare to say rashly, ‘It is holy,’ and to reflect only after making vows.” Solomon also advised, “Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God. For God is in heaven, and you are on earth; therefore let your words be few.”
Think about what you say now. Side note: Solomon, who eventually had 700 wives, may have been wiser if he had heeded his own advice about rash vows. Exhibit A, though, of why vows should not be hastily made is Saul, who probably thought, in our story here, the Philistines are killing each other. We’re about to mop up. Last one to the battle is a rotten egg, right? That’s essentially what he’s saying. What could go wrong with that? Right? Well, plenty, as it turns out.
Look at verse 25. So none of the people had tasted food. Now, when all the people came to the forest, behold, there was honey on the ground. When the people entered the forest, behold, the honey was dripping. But no one put his hand to his mouth, for the people feared the oath. But Jonathan—and you hear that contrast and you’re like, oh, that doesn’t sound good—Jonathan had not heard his father charge the people with the oath because he was fighting. So he put out the tip of the staff that was in his hand, dipped it in the honeycomb, put his hand to his mouth, and his eyes became bright, just like me with that burger. My eyes—oh, this is so good. I needed this.
Well, why didn’t Jonathan hear the oath and the curse? He was out fighting the enemy rather than hiding like his dad was. If you’re like me, the mid-1980s saw you playing a lot—probably too many—video games in local arcades. I would go down to this little pizza arcade that we had after getting my paper route money, put my quarters up above there and just start dropping them in and just exhausting my paper route money. My favorite game was this game called Gauntlet.
In Gauntlet, you’re one of four characters, and you’re just in this kind of maze dungeon thing, and you’re just fighting these massive amounts of enemies that come over from—it’s just kind of this constant battle. There are just hundreds and hundreds of enemies that surround you, and you’re just fighting and fighting and fighting. You can play that for hours and hours and hours, and it’s just exhausting by the time—because it never really ends. I don’t think that game ends. I never got there. At times, the game was so chaotic because you were surrounded by enemies and overwhelmed, and I imagine this is what Jonathan is like.
He went up with just one other person against a Philistine garrison and fought, and God preserved him. The Philistines started fighting against each other. He comes now back to the group, probably has blood all over him, perhaps a few minor wounds of his own. He’s tired, like soldiers happen to get; he’s hungry. And now he walks into the woods, and the honey is there on the ground, and it looks amazing. So, after a hard day killing Philistines, a little bit of honey just lights him up. His eyes become bright. It’s that look of satisfaction when famished people get some good food in their belly. But he didn’t hear that curse.
The people wouldn’t eat this honey because they’re scared of that curse. Jonathan doesn’t hesitate; he hasn’t heard that. So what’s going to happen? Well, maybe Dad won’t find out. Maybe this will all just kind of float away. See, Saul at this point doesn’t know that his son has just brought a curse upon himself. But a good deal of people saw Jonathan eat, and they are horrified because they know that Jonathan is invaluable as a warrior. He’s the heir apparent; he’s the victor in this battle. But it seems to be heading toward a tragic ending.
Verse 28. Now then, one of the people, probably the same ones that always reminded the teacher that there’s a quiz that day, said, “Your father strictly charged the people with an oath, saying, ‘Cursed be the man who eats food this day.'” And the people were faint. Then Jonathan said, “My father has troubled the land. See how my eyes have become bright because I tasted a little of this honey. How much better if the people had eaten freely today of the spoil of their enemies that they found. For now, the defeat among the Philistines has not been great.”
So Jonathan says, “Well, that’s just great, just great. I went up there, we had this great victory, and we finally take down the Philistines a notch or two. But I get cursed in the end. What’s with Dad making such a dumb oath? Who doesn’t feed their soldiers before, during, or after a battle? You’ve got to keep your soldiers well fed.” My father, he says, has troubled the land. And that really can be a summary statement of Saul’s reign: Saul, the first king of Israel, who troubled the land.
Well, still, maybe this will all just fade away. Maybe the people will just kind of be quiet and no one will notice, and we can just move on to the next episode. Or maybe other really bad things could stack on top of what has already happened. Verse 31. They struck down the Philistines that day, from Michmash to Aijalon. Well, that sounds good. All right, the victory continues, it seems. They continue to gain more ground. And the people were very faint. Well, that makes sense; they haven’t eaten for a while, right?
And they were faint when they heard about Jonathan and the oath that he had broken and the curse that he had upon him. But the people are now faint because they’re hungry, and they fought. So the people pounced on the spoil and took sheep and oxen and calves and slaughtered them on the ground, and the people ate them with the blood. That sounds maybe bad. Not sure about that, but it is bad. It’s bad because way back in Genesis 9, God told Noah, “You shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood.”
So Israelite people—well done. Stakes. Only blood symbolizes life, and blood was necessary for the sacrifices. But here, hungry soldiers like to eat. Jonathan took the honey; the rest of the Israelites had a veritable smorgasbord of very undercooked meats. Some people say they may not have cooked them at all. People are just eating all sorts of forbidden foods in this chapter. Nothing works up an undiscerning appetite like killing Philistines, it seems.
And so it’s Saul, who earlier was impetuous and impatient and hasty, who understands the problem. He’s actually the one that realizes that the people are violating God’s command. Verse 33. Then probably that same guy told Saul, “Behold, the people are sinning against the Lord by eating with the blood.” And Saul said, “You have dealt treacherously. Roll a great stone to me here.” Saul said, “Disperse yourselves among the people and say to them, ‘Let every man bring his ox or his sheep and slaughter them here and eat, and do not sin against the Lord by eating with the blood.’ Let’s do this right, people,” he said.
So every one of the people brought his ox with him that night, and they slaughtered them there. And Saul built an altar to the Lord. It was the first altar he built to the Lord. I mean, you read that and you’re like, “Well, way to go, Saul.” It seems like he kind of got something right. Good on you for reminding these ravenous, bloodthirsty carnivores about the regulations that God has given. Good on you for slowing them down enough that there could be an appropriate offering of thanksgiving made here. Right? Good on you, Saul, for building that altar, it seems.
I realize that if you’re sensitive to violence, either towards animals or humans, this passage has some discomfort for you. I can’t think of another place in the Bible where the word “slaughter” is used so frequently. It’s just all through this passage here; animals have been slaughtered and partially eaten by the hungry soldiers. Saul now slows them down long enough to make an altar. But he’s not quite ready to disengage fully; he’s not quite ready to relax.
Verse 36. Then Saul said, “Let us go down after the Philistines by night and plunder them until the morning light. Let us not leave a man of them.” They said, “Do whatever seems good to you.” So Saul’s not ready for the battle to stop. He’s got the upper hand now; the Philistines are on the run. He says, “Let’s take it to them, boys. We’ve got them on the run. Let’s finish them.” The people respond by saying, essentially, “Whatever you see that—do whatever seems good to you.”
What are we supposed to do here? Are we doing that? This—I mean, people are just—the leader is not leading them well. There have been a few times where I’ve told my kids, “All right, gang, I’ve got a great idea of what we’re going to do today. Let’s go sledding today.” And sometimes I spring these on my kids a little bit too late without too much thought. They’ve made their own plans; they have their own ideas. I come up and try to steer them in a different way, and they’re like, “Ugh, whatever. Dad’s got some crazy idea again.”
Here seems to be what happens here for the Israelites. It might just be because they’re tired, they’re full, they had their victory. Saul now makes his sacrifice; they get to eat. Saul wants the victory, but the people seem less than enthusiastic. And so we now are introduced to a new character—a priest who is seeking to mediate the conflict. You don’t have good camaraderie between Saul and the people. The priest says, “Let us draw near to God here.” Sounds great.
Saul inquired of God, “Shall I go down after the Philistines? Will you give them into the hand of Israel?” But he did not answer him that day. Now, you got to know something here. This was not the good priest, okay? Saul had killed all the good priests. Saul had gotten rid of the priests. This was a guy named Ahijah, whose uncle was a guy named Ichabod, meaning “departed glory,” whose great uncle was an evil priest named Phinehas, whose line of priestly ministry was disqualified from Israel. But Saul still has him in his possession.
Posse Samuel the prophet is nowhere to be found, so Saul takes the next best thing—a disqualified priest named Ahijah, who is probably not the greatest guy to have on the team. Here he seems to be making an honorable suggestion. Ahijah says, “Let us draw near to God here.” Saul has a word from the Lord that’s still effective and still important. Saul’s job has repeatedly been to get rid of the enemies of God’s people. So when Saul says, “Let’s go after the Philistines,” he’s doing the right thing. The priest now says, “Let’s pause and just spend some time getting near to God here.”
There’s a way to sound really spiritual with certain lines, but in reality, we’re avoiding any real sensitivity to the Lord’s leading and calling on our life. You know what I mean by that? Here, Saul, taking advice from Ahijah, seeks to discern the Lord’s will. But God’s will has already been made known here. Jonathan knew it, and so he initiated this commando raid against the Philistines. Now, when there’s all that there is left to do is a bit of mopping up, Saul, effectively at the insistence of his priest, leads his people to slow down.
Let’s make sure we’re doing the right thing. I had a buddy in seminary who, rather than say no to people when asked to do something that he didn’t really want to do, would say in a very spiritual tone, “Let me pray about it.” It was brilliant in some ways because, you know, somebody would say, “Hey, can you help me move apartments? We’ve got to hide a bed—like three of them—and like a grand piano. Can you help me move?” Tim would say, “Let me pray about it.” Now, I guarantee you he did not pray about it, right? He just didn’t want to say no.
This was just a way to sound spiritual. It was kind of a joke a little bit. I must confess to personally repeating this brilliant tactic from time to time, though. There’s a way that we can sound spiritual—”Let’s draw near to God”—when God says, “Go right.” There’s a way that—let’s slow down and think! But no, we have a clear command of what we’re supposed to do.
This is what happens here in this situation. Saul, even in his drawing near to God, is disobeying what God has called him to do. So Saul makes an inquiry, likely through the priest, and God does not respond, unsurprisingly. When a king needed an answer from God, he would go to the priest. The priest had this garment that he wore. There were 12 stones on it, and two of those stones would have been the Urim and Thummim. The king would ask a yes or no question. The priest would kind of blindly select a stone, which gave the king his answer. For some reason here, God is silent.
Though God gives no word or revelation to Saul on how to proceed, which shouldn’t surprise us when we remember that because of Saul’s earlier disobedience, he’d been told by Samuel that your kingdom shall not continue. Jonathan now has been cursed because of his father’s flippant use of vows. The Israelites have sinned in their post-battle feasting, and God is silent.
So what do you do? What do you do? Saul looks for someone to blame. Verse 39. And Saul said, “Come here, all you leaders of the people, and know and see how this sin has arisen today. For as the Lord lives, who saves Israel, though it be in Jonathan my son, he shall surely die.” It’s ominous, but there was not a man among all the people who answered him. Then he said to all Israel, “You shall be on one side, and I and Jonathan my son will be on the other side.” The people said to Saul, “Whatever, do what seems good to you.”
Therefore Saul said, “O Lord God of Israel, why have you not answered your servant this day? If this guilt is in me or in Jonathan my son, O Lord God of Israel, give Urim. But if this guilt is in your people, Israel, give Thummim.” And Saul and Jonathan were taken, but the people escaped. Then Saul said, “Cast the lot between me and my son Jonathan.” And Jonathan was taken.
It’s kind of a brutal scene to follow, isn’t it? It’s a desperate Saul trying to figure out what’s going on here, trying to get answers, trying to figure out why everything’s happening, and he doesn’t know who to blame. In his haste, he starts to dig a deeper hole. Someone violated my oath. Let’s find out who this is. Even if it’s Jonathan, my son, that person will die.
So in the sorting begins, and Saul and Jonathan are quickly targeted as the two potential culprits. Out of that, Jonathan is selected as a father. This scene is just ugly. Saul seems heartless, perhaps even delighted to have even his own son to blame for God’s silence.
In verse 43, then Saul said to Jonathan, “Tell me what you have done.” Jonathan told him, “I tasted a little honey with the tip of the staff that was in my hand. Here I am; I will die.” And Saul said, “God do so to me, and more also, you shall surely die, Jonathan.” It’s just kind of awful, isn’t it? There’s no sense of anguish or hesitation in Saul here. He’s like, “Okay, time to get rid of my son.”
Then at the last minute, the people revolt. Verse 45. The people said to Saul, “Shall Jonathan die, who has worked this great salvation in Israel? Far from it! As the Lord lives, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground, for he has worked with God this day.” So the people ransomed Jonathan so that he did not die. Then Saul went up from pursuing the Philistines, and the Philistines went to their own place.
Isn’t that interesting? The people really essentially stage a coup to protect Jonathan. Saul, who is being disobeyed by the people, is forced to relent. After a summary of Saul’s reign in the next few verses, we’re told this in verse 52: There was hard fighting against the Philistines all the days of Saul. When Saul saw any strong man or any valiant man, he attached himself to him.
It’s a bit of a strange story, isn’t it? There’s a temptation to moralize it. You know, be careful making hasty vows. That’s probably wise and definitely is wise, I would say. But there’s more going on in this passage. A big piece of this episode is Saul’s continual slide into rebellion. God is not with Saul because of his disobedience, and that descent into darker and darker sin is increasingly ugly in the life of Saul. It won’t be too long before Saul is in league with witches and the occult.
The people need a righteous king, a wise king, a good king, and Saul is not it. Well, maybe it’s Jonathan. Maybe it’s David. Maybe it’s one of David’s descendants—in fact, a son born to Mary, one of David’s descendants, is that king approximately a thousand years later.
No mere human can be the king that the people need. That role is reserved ultimately for God. After failed king after failed king after failed king—including David the great king—God Himself entered this world, proclaimed His coming kingdom, ransomed a people for Himself, and now through His death and resurrection, we have now a better king who will return for His people and rule eternally.
There’s a temptation when God seems absent to take matters into our own hands, even ignoring God’s explicit commands. Thankfully, in this passage, Jonathan—a righteous Savior—is preserved. In this passage, there’s something beautifully hinted at but not fully fleshed out. There’s a son in this passage who is technically innocent. There’s a son who took on a curse; that curse comes because of his father. Finally, there’s a prince son who survives against all odds so that he can be with his people.
Now, the details don’t match up one for one, but you can see a noticeable foreshadowing of a greater son who will bear the curse of the Father so that he can reign with his people forever. This passage points us towards Jesus. Jonathan will never ascend to the throne. Thankfully, though, Jesus sits on a heavenly throne, having fully conquered His enemies of Satan, sin, and death.
Jesus bore the curse our sin deserved, even becoming that curse so that in Him we may be forgiven. We now are righteous sons and daughters of God because our king bore our curse. Saul tried to blame someone for the curse, even his own son. God the Father placed our curse on Jesus so that we could be with Him through the work of His Son.
Ten years ago, I made a rash vow. We were moving from Wisconsin to Minnesota, and I felt guilty about uprooting my family. So I promised my two boys that I would buy them a dog. When we moved to Minnesota, I did not consult with anyone. I just, in a moment of Saul-like flippantness, said, “We’ll get a dog.” So we moved to Minnesota, and we got Trixie and Ember. Trixie is the dark one in the background; Ember is the stupid one in the front.
Trixie—just wait. Trixie we still have, and she’s an absolute delight. I love that dog. Ember was a disaster of a dog. One of the more stupid, uncontrollable dogs I’ve ever known—just had no sense of self-control, bit humans, animals, anything if they were between her and her food. My wife still has scars from my rash vow’s implications in Ember. Saul’s vow perhaps warns us against such unconsidered promises.
But when I think of my unconsidered knee-jerk promise to my sons, I try to think of a greater promise—one that was made by someone far greater and far more faithful and wise than I am. The God of the universe promised His people that He would dwell with them eternally. That was not a rash vow that God made, later regretted when the implications became clear. It was one that God made and now faithfully and joyfully fulfills through His Son’s death and resurrection.
Because God faithfully fulfilled His promise, we know that all His promises in Christ are yes. God was absent from Saul, but God, through the work of Christ, will never leave us nor forsake us. Let’s pray.
Father, we thank you for these back corners of Scripture, that even when they are a little confusing and unfamiliar, there’s this beauty to them. They’re hard, but they point us towards Jesus, who is great and good and faithful and perfect. We thank you that you have sent your Son to bear our curse, to be our salvation, to bring us into your kingdom as sons and daughters. Help us to follow Him, to trust Him, and to honor you with our lives because of your great work in Christ. In His name we pray. Amen.