Sons of Encouragement

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Sons of Encouragement Page 44

by Francine Rivers


  “The Philistines are a worse scourge than the Midiantes or the Ammonites.” Saul let the flap fall. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I never asked to be king. I never asked for any of this!”

  “God chose you, Father.” Jonathan spoke as calmly as he could, though their fear seeped into him. “Trust in the Lord and in the power of His strength!”

  “And what does that mean?” Abner stepped forward. “In practical, tactical terms, Jonathan?”

  “God could send lightning bolts on our enemies,” Kish agreed. “Why doesn’t He?”

  Saul turned abruptly. “Where is the Ark?” They all looked at him. “Maybe if I had the Ark with me. The Philistines were afraid of it once. Remember?”

  Jonathan felt a knot growing in his stomach. Did his father mean to use the Ark like an idol? “They captured the Ark.”

  “Yes. And a plague of mice and rats destroyed their crops. The Philistines were sick with tumors. Eventually they sent it back on a cart loaded down with gold.” Saul looked at Abner. “How long would it take to bring it here?”

  A warrior entered the tent. “There is still no sign of Samuel, my lord.”

  Abner frowned. “There is no time. You must do something now before all the men are gone.” Everyone agreed.

  “Don’t.” Jonathan was a lone voice in the tent. He looked into his father’s face. “Wait. Please. Give the seer more time.”

  Abner shook his head. “You know too little of men, Jonathan. If we wait much longer, the camp will be empty and the king will stand alone. How long do you think your father will survive with just those of us inside this tent to defend him?”

  Abner’s words swayed Saul. “Bring me the burnt offerings and the peace offerings. We can’t ask God to help us unless we give Him something.”

  Jonathan’s heart pounded heavily, the pit of his stomach like a hard, cold ball of fear. He drew out the Law. “You mustn’t do this, Father. Please, listen. I can show you—”

  “Do you not yet understand?” Saul shouted. “I can’t wait.” His eyes blazed. “I won’t wait! Samuel promised he would come. He didn’t keep his word!” Saul went outside. “Gather some stones. We’ll build the altar right here.” He grabbed Jonathan’s arm. “You will stand over there. And say no more!” His chin jerked up. “The kings of other nations make sacrifices before their armies. Why shouldn’t I?” Saul turned to Abner. “Call the men. They must see what I do. Tell them I am making an offering to the Lord so He will help us.”

  Jonathan turned to Ebenezer and spoke quietly. “Station yourself where you can see anyone approaching camp. When you see Samuel, run back here like the wind and shout his coming. Hurry!”

  “Yes, my lord.” The boy drew back from the others, turned, and ran to do Jonathan’s bidding.

  As the young prince watched his father, he wondered if God would take Saul’s fear into account. Lord, forgive him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

  The men gathering looked pleased by what was about to happen. Had his father read, written, and studied the Law, he would know better than to defy the Lord like this! And those who followed him would know better than to trust their lives to the plans of men.

  The sun hovered above the western horizon. A crippled calf was brought to Saul. Why kill a healthy one without blemish as the Law commanded? It seemed that as long as his father had decided to disregard one part of the Law, none of its other instructions mattered either. Jonathan watched as King Saul put his hands on the animal’s head, prayed loudly for God’s help, and then slit the calf’s throat. Jonathan closed his eyes, sickened by the ceremony. Soon he smelled smoke, mingled with the stench of disobedience.

  Dismissed, the men went about their duties. Saul looked at Jonathan and smiled, confident again. He went back inside his tent to talk with his advisors.

  Jonathan sat, head in his hands.

  Ebenezer came running. Face flushed, out of breath, he rasped, “The prophet comes.”

  Shame filled Jonathan. How could he face Samuel?

  Saul came outside. “Come! We will meet him together!” He spread his arms wide and smiled warmly. “Welcome, Samuel!”

  Samuel’s eyes blazed. His fingers whitened on his staff. “Saul! What is this you have done?”

  Surprised, Saul frowned. He looked from the prophet to the men around him. “I saw my men scattering from me—” his eyes narrowed coldly—“and you didn’t arrive when you said you would, and the Philistines are at Micmash ready for battle. So I said, ‘The Philistines are ready to march against us at Gilgal, and I haven’t even asked for the Lord’s help!’ So I felt compelled—” he swept his hand, taking in his advisors—“to offer the burnt offering myself before you came.”

  Jonathan looked between the two men. Wasn’t his father’s sin bad enough without trying to cast blame on the seer?

  Samuel’s glance took in everyone. “Leave us!”

  Jonathan wanted to flee before the wrath that was sure to come.

  “My son stays.” Saul commanded Jonathan with a gesture.

  Jonathan took his place beside his father. He could not desert him now: how could he when Geba had started all this?

  Samuel stared at Saul. “How foolish! You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you. Had you kept it, the Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever. But now your kingdom must end, for the Lord has sought out a man after His own heart. The Lord has already appointed him to be the leader of His people, because you have not kept the Lord’s command.”

  Jonathan cringed.

  Saul gritted his teeth in anger, but when the prophet turned away, the king took a step toward him. “You turn your back on me, Samuel? You turn your back on Israel’s king? Where are you going?”

  “I am going to Gibeah.” Samuel sounded weary and disheartened. “I would advise you to do the same.”

  Saul kicked the dust. “Go and tell Abner to count the men we have left.”

  Tears pricked Jonathan’s eyes as he watched the old prophet walk away. “We should follow Samuel, Father.”

  “After we find out how many men we have left.”

  Jonathan wanted to cry out in grief. What did it matter how many men stood with a king rejected by God? “Let me speak to him on your behalf.”

  “Go, if you think you can do any good.” Saul turned away.

  Jonathan ran after Samuel.

  Samuel turned when he came near and spoke to those accompanying him. They moved away. Samuel leaned heavily on his staff, his face etched with exhaustion and sorrow.

  Jonathan fell to his knees and bowed his face to the ground.

  “Stand up!”

  Jonathan surged to his feet, trembling.

  “Why do you chase after me? Do you mean to use your sword against me?”

  “No!” Jonathan blanched. “My father means you no harm, nor do I! Please . . . I came to ask you to forgive me. The blame is mine!”

  Samuel shook his head. “You did not perform the sacrifice.”

  Tears blurred Jonathan’s eyes. “My father was afraid. Because of what I did at Geba, all this . . .” He could not see Samuel’s expression or guess at what the seer thought. “I’m the one who attacked Geba and brought the Philistines’ wrath upon us. When we heard of the forces that are coming against us, the men began to desert. My father—”

  “Each man makes his decisions, Jonathan, and each bears the consequences of what he decides.”

  “But are we not also prey to circumstances around us?”

  “You know better.”

  “Can there be no allowances for mistakes? for fear?”

  “Who is the enemy, Jonathan?”

  “The Philistines.” Jonathan wept. “I don’t want God to be our enemy. What can I do to make things right?”

  Samuel put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “What do you wear against your heart, my son?”

  Jonathan put his hand against his breastplate. “The Law.”

  “Did you write it in your own ha
nd because you thought you would be king someday?”

  Jonathan blinked. Had he? Samuel said that Saul’s kingdom would not last now. Did that mean Israel would fall? Did that mean the people would all suffer at the hands of their enemies?

  “You say nothing.”

  Jonathan searched his eyes. “I want to say no.” He swallowed hard. “But do I know myself well enough to answer?”

  “Speak the truth to the king no matter what the others around him say. And pray for him, my son.” Samuel released him.

  Jonathan longed for reassurance. “Will you pray for my father?” Surely the prayers of a righteous man would be heard by God.

  “Yes.”

  Jonathan grasped hope. “Then the Lord our God will not abandon us completely.”

  “God does not abandon men, my son. Men abandon God.” As the old prophet headed toward Gibeah, his companions joined him.

  Jonathan stood watching for a long time, praying for Samuel’s safety and for his father, the king, to repent.

  Samuel waited in Gibeah while the Philistines encamped at Micmash. King Saul returned to Gibeah and held court under the shade of a tamarisk tree. When no Israelite army came out to meet the Philistines, the Philistines sent out raiding parties. Ophrah was attacked, then Beth-horon. Soon after, they plundered the borderland overlooking the valley of Zeboim facing the desert.

  Samuel returned to Ramah. Saul waited for a sign from God or a word of encouragement from the prophet. None came. He grew more sullen with each passing day. His army of six hundred sank into despair. Abner and the other leaders gave advice, but Saul didn’t listen. Numerous plans were laid out and then rejected. The king seemed incapable of action. Worse, he became suspicious. “Send someone to keep watch over Samuel. If he goes anywhere, follow him and report back to me!”

  “Samuel prays for you, Father.”

  “So you say, but can I trust him? He said God will choose another.”

  Reports came in that the Philistines were on the move again.

  Jonathan heard all the talk and kept his eyes open. The inactivity wore on him as much as it did the others. Was this what war was like? Long weeks, sometimes months, of waiting? And then the terror and exhilaration of battle?

  The Philistines took cruel delight in raiding when and where they pleased, for King Saul sent no one to stop them. Jonathan’s father could not get his mind off Samuel’s prophecy.

  Something had to be done to rouse the king and the men of Israel, something to bring them together as they had been when the Lord gave them Jabesh-gilead!

  Jonathan prayed, Lord, help me. I don’t want to make the same mistake I did with Geba!

  If Jonathan did anything, he must do it alone so the blame would fall only on him if he failed.

  A Philistine detachment was camped at the pass at Micmash. Jonathan knew the area well. The slippery, thorny cliffs of Bozez and Seneh faced each other. But there was one place above, barely a furrow of land, where one man could hold ground and kill a score of Philistines, possibly more.

  Jonathan might die. So be it. Better to die in battle with honor than live in fear of idol worshipers. He rose, shouldered the quiver of arrows, took up his bow, and left the city.

  Ebenezer grabbed Jonathan’s shield and his own bow and arrows and ran after him. “Where are we going, my lord?”

  “To see what the Lord will do.”

  The boy stayed at his side, but Jonathan wondered if he would be brave enough to follow all the way.

  When they were away from Gibeah, Jonathan faced Ebenezer. “Let’s go across to the outpost of those pagans. Perhaps the Lord will help us, for nothing can hinder the Lord. He can win a battle whether He has many warriors or only a few!”

  Ebenezer’s eyes brightened. He grinned broadly. “Do what you think is best. I’m with you completely, whatever you decide.”

  Jonathan laughed. What would the Philistines make of the two of them?

  When they reached the cliff opposite the Philistine encampment, Jonathan surveyed the gap between them and the enemy camp. Lord, send me a sign that You will give those men into our hands!

  He felt a quickening, a flush of heat rushing through his veins, a yes, go rush of confidence. Jonathan pointed. “All right then. We will cross over and let them see us. If they say to us, ‘Stay where you are or we’ll kill you,’ then we will stop and not go up to them. But if they say, ‘Come on up and fight,’ then we will go up. That will be the Lord’s sign that He will help us defeat them.”

  Either way, they would fight against God’s enemies. One way would bring certain death. The other victory.

  Ebenezer nodded. “We can hold them off as long as we have arrows, my lord. And then you have your sword!”

  Jonathan gripped the boy’s shoulder. Whether in the gap or on the cliffs, the boy was as willing to die fighting as he was. Jonathan descended first, setting the pace. Slipping once, he caught hold and regained his footing. “Watch it there, my friend. Move to your right. That’s it.”

  When they had both reached the bottom, Jonathan moved out of the shadows into the open. He planted his feet and lifted his head. Ebenezer joined him.

  “Look!” A man laughed from above. “The Hebrews are crawling out of their holes!” Other Philistines joined the watchman. A few warriors peered over the edge of the cliff. One spit. Their laughter echoed between the walls of the cliffs.

  Jonathan’s heart beat hard for battle. Lord, please give them into our hands! Let them know there is a God in Israel!

  And the sign came.

  “Come on up here, and we’ll teach you a lesson!”

  “Come on, climb right behind me, for the Lord will help us defeat them!” Jonathan ran at the cliff and started to climb, Ebenezer right behind him. Grasping hold of thick-rooted thornbushes, Jonathan pulled himself up. He found footholds and climbed like a lizard on a fortress wall, trailed by his young armor bearer.

  Still laughing, the Philistine warriors moved back from the edge of the cliff. Jonathan could hear them. When he reached the top, he walked forward and took his stand. He grinned at the surprise on the Philistines’ faces.

  “A couple of boys!”

  One of the Philistines drew his sword. “Both about to die!”

  Ebenezer took his place near Jonathan.

  One of the Philistines guffawed.

  In one fluid motion, Jonathan shrugged the bow from his shoulder, whipped an arrow out, set it, and sent it straight and true to its target. The laughing Philistine fell back, an arrow between his eyes. Stunned, the others stared at Jonathan and then let out a battle roar, drew swords, and came at Jonathan and Ebenezer, who shot one arrow after another, and one after another, Philistines fell—twenty in all.

  The shouting had roused the others. More shouting came from behind.

  With his last arrow released, Jonathan drew his sword and gave his battle cry. “For the Lord!” The ground shook as Philistine warriors panicked and ran. Jonathan ran into the confusion and hacked down an officer. Ebenezer grabbed a spear and threw it into a fleeing Philistine. More screams rent the air.

  “The shofar blows!” Ebenezer cried out. “The king is coming!”

  Jonathan shouted in exultation. Israel was on the move! Philistines ran in terror. Jonathan spotted a few Hebrews among the Philistines. Whether they were men who had gone up to fight with the enemy or were captives did not matter now. “Fight for Israel or die!” Jonathan shouted, and the men turned as one and fought for Jonathan.

  “The Ark!” Ebenezer shouted.

  Jonathan looked back and saw the Ark. No! With a roar, he turned, enraged at the thought of the enemy getting their hands on it again. He ran into the Philistine camp, sword flashing. No one will ever take the Ark from us! He cut to the left. No one will open it and desecrate it! He cut to the right. No one will take the Law from us! He slashed and stabbed. No one will open the jar and spill out the manna! He sliced off a warrior’s arm and cut off his head. No one will break the staff of Aaron tha
t sprouted leaves, bloomed, and bore almonds in a day!

  Jonathan screamed in rage as he fought. “Jehovah-Roi! El Shaddai! Adonai!” God our King! God Almighty! Lord!

  And Philistines ran from him in terror.

  From all directions, the Hebrews came. The king’s army of six hundred swelled and advanced north from Gibeah. Men of Ephraim pressed in from the south.

  Confusion reigned among the Philistines. Some fled toward Aijalon, others to Ophrah, trying to reach Beth-aven, their stronghold, the house of wickedness.

  Taking up a spear, Jonathan kept after the Philistines, encouraging the other Israelites who had joined him. They grew weary and faint, and were barely able to keep up with him. When Jonathan entered the woods, he spotted bees swarming over a hole in the ground. “Honey!” He reached out the end of his staff, dipped it into the hole, and brought up a portion of honeycomb. “God provides!” He ate and felt his strength increasing.

  Men stopped and watched him, but made no move to take any of the honey.

  “Eat!” Jonathan looked around at them, perplexed. “What’s the matter with you?” He dipped his staff again and held it out to them. “The honey will strengthen you!”

  “We can’t!”

  “Your father made the army take a strict oath that anyone who eats food today will be cursed. That is why everyone is weary and faint.”

  Jonathan went cold, and then hot. “My father has made trouble for us all!” Would he have to die for eating the honey? “A command like that only hurts us. See how refreshed I am now that I have eaten this little bit of honey. It is a gift from the Lord!”

  “If we eat it, the king will have us killed.”

  He pressed them no further. His father would excuse him, but would not excuse others. “If the men had been allowed to eat freely from the food they found among our enemies, think how many more Philistines we could have killed!” All the Philistines would have been dead before the day was over.

  Jonathan turned away and continued the chase. Those who could, followed.

  From Micmash to Aijalon, the Philistines fell. Many escaped because Saul’s men were too exhausted from lack of food to follow after them. When the Hebrews came upon sheep, cattle, and calves, they fell upon them, slaughtering the animals in the field and cutting away chunks of flesh, their mouths dripping blood as they ate to satisfy their ravenous hunger.

 

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