1 Now it came to pass after the death of Saul, when David was returned from the slaughter of the Amalekites, and David had stayed two days in Ziklag;

2 It came even to pass on the third day, that, behold, a man came out of the camp from Saul with his clothes rent, and earth on his head: and so it was, when he came to David, that he fell to the earth, and did obeisance.

3 And David said to him, From where come you? And he said to him, Out of the camp of Israel am I escaped.

4 And David said to him, How went the matter? I pray you, tell me. And he answered, That the people are fled from the battle, and many of the people also are fallen and dead; and Saul and Jonathan his son are dead also.

5 And David said to the young man that told him, How know you that Saul and Jonathan his son be dead?

6 And the young man that told him said, As I happened by chance on mount Gilboa, behold, Saul leaned on his spear; and, see, the chariots and horsemen followed hard after him.

7 And when he looked behind him, he saw me, and called to me. And I answered, Here am I.

8 And he said to me, Who are you? And I answered him, I am an Amalekite.

9 He said to me again, Stand, I pray you, on me, and slay me: for anguish is come on me, because my life is yet whole in me.

10 So I stood on him, and slew him, because I was sure that he could not live after that he was fallen: and I took the crown that was on his head, and the bracelet that was on his arm, and have brought them here to my lord.

11 Then David took hold on his clothes, and rent them; and likewise all the men that were with him:

12 And they mourned, and wept, and fasted until even, for Saul, and for Jonathan his son, and for the people of the LORD, and for the house of Israel; because they were fallen by the sword.

13 And David said to the young man that told him, From where are you? And he answered, I am the son of a stranger, an Amalekite.

14 And David said to him, How were you not afraid to stretch forth your hand to destroy the LORD's anointed?

15 And David called one of the young men, and said, Go near, and fall on him. And he smote him that he died.

16 And David said to him, Your blood be on your head; for your mouth has testified against you, saying, I have slain the LORD's anointed.

17 And David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan his son:

18 (Also he bade them teach the children of Judah the use of the bow: behold, it is written in the book of Jasher.)

19 The beauty of Israel is slain on your high places: how are the mighty fallen!

20 Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph.

21 You mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain, on you, nor fields of offerings: for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil.

22 From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty.

23 Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided: they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.

24 You daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold on your apparel.

25 How are the mighty fallen in the middle of the battle! O Jonathan, you were slain in your high places.

26 I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant have you been to me: your love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.

27 How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!

Touch not Mine Anointed

2Sa 1:1-16

The scene changes from Gilboa to Ziklag, whither the tidings were carried by an Amalekite. It is remarkable to notice how David received them. Though he had spent years in the rough life of a freebooter, surrounded by coarse and hardened men, he had not lost the delicacy and refinement of his earlier days. To men like Nabal, he seemed an outlaw; but those who were admitted to the inner circle of David's friendship knew that there was a whole heaven of difference between him and the men who followed him. Let us see to it that by fellowship with God, we keep our nature uncontaminated by the world, its fine edge, not blunted, its bloom not brushed off.

It was genuine grief that made David rend his clothes, and a genuine emotion of horror that led to the execution of this self-confessed regicide. Then from the depths of a guileless heart there poured forth the Song of the Bow, one of the noblest elegies in any tongue. Let us speak tenderly of the dead. Let God in His infinite pity judge them, while we scatter rose-leaves on their graves.

the Song of the Bow

2Sa 1:17-27

This noble poem is unrivaled. It is a perfect model of a funeral dirge. It is in poetry what Händel's Dead March in Saul is in music. The psalmist is borne along both by art and affection. He could not have composed this song unless he had been a consummate artist, and unless he had drunk deep of that divine love which believes, bears, hopes and endures all things and never fails.

He forgets all that he has suffered. His love refuses to consider anything but what has been pleasant and lovely in his liege lord. And for Jonathan there is a special stanza. A brother soul! The Philistines had felt David's might, but his friend had tasted his sweetness! Terrible as a whirlwind in flight, yet winsome as a woman! But if human love can impute only good to those who are the objects of its affection, what will not God's love say of us, feel toward us and impute to us! Here is a clue to the exceeding riches of the love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in sins!