A Story of God and All of Us

PART FOUR

A MAN AFTER GOD'S OWN HEART

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David is just sixteen years old when Samuel anoints him as Saul's successor to the throne of Israel. A thousand years from now his direct descendant, Jesus of Nazareth, will also be proclaimed King of the Jews.

But even though David will eventually take the throne, Saul remains Israel's king for now. Saul knows nothing of Samuel's whereabouts or action, or David's right to his throne. It is the end of yet another battle in the midst of the endless, arid desert of the Promised Land. Once again, Saul's army has won, for he has no equal in waging war. Despite being outnumbered, he continues to defeat the Philistines, Israel's most feared enemy.

A bloodied Saul and his teenage son, Jonathan, walk slowly through the troops. Jonathan congratulates the men; Saul says nothing. Despite the victory, he feels beaten down, overwhelmed. An omnipotent warrior, Saul is an inept ruler once the fighting ends. And even the most epic of battles eventually comes to an end.

"Saul, Saul, Saul," chant his men. They would endure any hardship for their king, fight any foe. "Saul has killed thousands, Saul has killed thousands,"

they cry, the thunder of their voices carrying across the land.

But inside Saul's head, those cheers are muddled and distorted. He finds no peace in victory and is worn down by the strain of being king. Despite his victories, he still stings from his final confrontation with Samuel. And the question, that infernal question, constantly nags at him: Has God turned His back on me?

"Father," exults Jonathan, "this day is ours. The Philistines are crushed."

Of Saul's three sons, Jonathan is the most pure of heart. He is proud of his father's accomplishments and courage. Other men would bask in

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the praise of such a wonderful young man, but Saul just waves him away and walks alone to his tent. The chants of his men fade to a dull rumble as he pulls back the canvas flap and seeks a moment's peace.

Saul's servant knows this foul mood well, and he is waiting with a goblet of the king's favorite wine. But Saul knocks it flying with a violent swing. "Did I ask for wine?" he growls.

Red wine soaks the walls of his tent and the bright fabric of the pillows covering the floor. Even as his servant rushes to clean up the mess, Saul leans over a bowl of water to wash the blood of battle off his hands and face.

"What's wrong, Father?" It's Jonathan.

Saul ignores him and begins to slap water onto his face, trying to drown out the sound of his beloved son's voice.

"Tell me what's wrong," insists Jonathan.

"Nothing's wrong," bellows Saul.

"Today was a great victory. Why is that never enough?"

Saul dismisses Jonathan and his servant with an angry wave. "I need rest.

That is al . A little sleep. Now leave me."

The servant knows to exit as hastily as possible if he wants to keep his head. But Jonathan is not afraid of his father. He holds his ground, hoping that Saul will mumble a word or two that will explain his rage. But it's as if he's not there. Saul lies down top his favorite pillow and falls into a deep sleep within seconds.

But Saul's sleep is not restful. It never is. It's been years since Samuel left, and he has since died. But Saul's fear that he disobeyed God haunts him each and every time he closes his eyes. In his dreams, he relives that long-ago battle with the Amalekites. He winces at the memory of ignoring Samuel. Saul's impatience--his insistence on not waiting those seven days, and his offering sacrifice himself before Samuel could arrive--haunts him. He was so youthful then, so callow, so eager for his first battle to be won.

And when he won, what did Saul do then? Once again, he disobeyed God.

Yes, he killed most of the Amalekites. Soldiers, babies, children, 131

women, and the inferior livestock were all put to the knife. But God had demanded that every living thing in the Amalekite fortress be killed.

Everything. Saul had failed to do that. The quality cows, sheep, and goats were kept alive. Agag, that wretched king whom Saul should have killed, was alive until Samuel himself thrust a blade into his neck.

Night after night, Saul dreams of how he would do it all differently, if he had the chance. He would wait those seven days and listen closely to Samuel as



he shared God's word and then performed sacrifice. Saul would not just run roughshod over the field of battle; he would swing his great sword like an avenging angel, chopping down every living Amalekite and their

possessions.

Alone in his tent, Saul cries out in his sleep. "No... no... Lord, please, I beg of You: forgive Your servant." But he knows what's done is done. Saul has been forgiven, but he must still bear the consequences of his disobedience.

Saul eagerly straps on his battle armor with the help of a young armor bearer. His army is camped in the Valley of Elah, already drawn up in battle array to face yet another vastly superior Philistine force. Green rolling hills surround the valley, and on any other day this lovely and tranquil location might be the ideal place to sit and quietly reflect on God's glory. The Philistines have taken position on one mountainside looking down over the valley; the Israelites on the other. The valley itself is currently a no-man'sland that will soon become the field of battle. A man foolish enough to let down his guard will quickly find his body pierced by the violent end of a spear.

Saul couldn't be happier. Adrenaline courses through his veins at the thought of the action. His spies have brought word of the Philistine defenses, and now Saul's brilliant military mind plans where he will position his forces, and how best to feint and pivot to lure the Philistines to slaughter.

Saul pays little attention to the boy helping him squeeze into his battle 132

armor. The boy's name is David. A shepherd by trade, he has come to the front lines to bring supplies to his older brothers, who are soldiers. They had only laughed at David and sent him away. But he remained, determined to help any way that he can. He now helps tighten the buckles that hold Saul's breastplate firmly in position.

The boy has a secret that he dare not share with Saul.

Suddenly, a breathless Jonathan throws back the flap and steps into Saul's tent. "Father, you must come immediately!"

Saul shakes off young David. He rushes out of the tent, muttering, "What could possibly be so urgent?" David trails behind as Saul pushes his way through the Israelite troops to a broad escarpment looking down into the valley. There they see a man almost nine feet tall standing alone, facing Saul's army. He wears full armor and wields a sword that matches his immense physical size. The entire Philistine army stands behind him.

"Israelites," calls out the giant. "I am Goliath. And I have a proposition for you!"

Saul peers down intently, unsure of what he will hear next.

"Send just one of you to fight me, oh Israelites. Just one. If he wins, then we Philistines will be your slaves. But if I win, you will be our slaves."

When he receives no response from Saul or the other Israelites, Goliath continues his rant. "Come now," he goads them. "Surely there is one of you courageous enough to fight me."

A wave of laughter rolls through the Philistine army at the intimation of Israelite cowardice. They thud the hilts of their swords against their shields as a show of appreciation, and the loud, percussive thunder rolls up the mountainside to Saul and his army. This simple act of defiance brings fear to the Israelite faces, and no man steps forward to take Goliath up on his offer.

"Someone must fight him," cries Jonathan, the lone man in Saul's army eager to do battle. He reaches for his sword.

"No," says Saul calmly. Years of strategizing have shown him the foolishness

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of letting a man's ego lure him into a trap. Below him, the shield beating continues until Goliath raises his arm as a signal for silence.

"I thought you were 'God's people,' " he roars. "Yet not one of you has enough faith in God to fight me?"

The Israelites' eyes turn downward, ashamed. No one feels he can best the giant. No one wants to bring shame to God and Israel in a vain attempt. The silence is deafening.

"I'll do it!" The calm, sure voice of a boy cuts across the valley, answering Goliath's call. All who hear it are sure it is the cry of a hardened warrior. But it is David, the shepherd, the lowest occupation in the land. He is seventeen years old, accomplished at playing the harp, and a part-time armor bearer for Saul. However, he has never once stepped onto the field of battle.

Saul gives him a patronizing smile. "David. The reward would be great, but you're not a soldier. You're a shepherd."

"Yes," David replies, catching Saul's eye before the king can look away.

"And I've protected my sheep from wolves. Just as I've protected my sheep, so God will protect me."

Saul is not swayed, even though Goliath has ratcheted up the tone of his chants, until he is now insulting not just the Israelites, but God, too.

"Where is your faith," chants Goliath. "Where is your God?"

The Israelites continue to cower. But David has deep faith, and the mockery in Goliath's words stirs his anger into a righteous fury. "I will kill him,"

seethes David. "I will most definitely kill him."

The final straw comes with Goliath's next taunt: "I don't believe that your God is on your side at all. Your God is not as strong as our gods." He beams broadly toward the Philistines, who resume the beating of their shields.

"What will be done for the man who kills this Philistine and removes his disgracer from Israel?" David asks the nearby Israelite soldiers. "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?"

But the soldiers ignore him. So David takes his argument to Saul. "Let 134

no one lose heart on account of this Philistine," he seethes. "Your servant will go and fight him."

"You are only a boy," Saul replies.

"This boy has been protecting his father's sheep from lions and bears for years," David argues. "This uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God."

He chooses to place his protection in the hands of God.

David bends to the ground near Saul's feet. He picks up a smooth stone and examines it. Then another. And another. Until he has selected five perfectly balanced pieces of rock. "The Lord is my shepherd," he says to himself, curbing any fears he might have about what will come next. "The Lord is my shepherd."

He does not ask Saul's permission as he gathers his stones and weaves through the Israelite ranks, each step taking him closer and closer to the valley floor. David is just a teenager, but Saul is impressed. He quickly removes his battle armor and has it hand-carried down to David. But the armor is far too big for the shepherd to wear. He takes it off and heads into battle with just his sling.

"Go," Saul tells him after an instant. "And the Lord be with you."

David emerges from the front of the Israelite line and squares off against Goliath, a grown man and battle-scarred veteran nearly three feet taller than he. David's quiet prayers escalate as the reality of what he has done--and is about to do--threaten to overwhelm him. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For You are with me. Your rod and staff... they comfort me. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life."

Goliath raises a hand to silence the shield beating as David plants his feet and squarely presents himself. David's heart hammers inside his chest.

Goliath roars a giant-sized laugh. "Is this Israel's champion?" he bellows, barely able to contain his glee.

David says nothing. He reaches into his satchel, never once taking his eye off Goliath, fingering those five precious stones.

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"Don't waste my time, little boy," yells Goliath. "You are too young to die."

"It is you who will die," vows David. "You come against me with sword and spear, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, whom you have defied."

Goliath sighs and adjusts his armor. "Very well. Then be prepared to be fed to the vultures."

The giant draws his sword and advances, his great strides eating up the distance all too quickly.

David stays calm. He pulls a stone from the bag on his belt and slips it into the cradle of his sling. "For You are with me," he prays. "Your rod and staff...

they comfort me."

Goliath laughs as he sees David rotate the sling around and around his head. From above, Saul and Jonathan look on without hope, wishing one of them had felt confident enough to face the giant, as they consider their coming enslavement.

David's sling swings faster and faster around his head, the leather and rock whirring louder and louder. Goliath slashes at the air menacingly with his sword, not breaking stride as he bears down on David. There are those among the Israelite army who look away, not wishing to see the young boy butchered. But the Philistines do not turn their heads. They beat their shields and wait for the moment when they will surge forth onto the Israelite encampment. Goliath may have mentioned slavery as the possible outcome of this battle, but the Philistines are in no mood to take home slaves. For a slave can escape to freedom and then come back to claim revenge. Better to kill the Israelites now--all of them.

Goliath turns to give yet another derisive sneer back toward his lines. But young David never once takes his eyes off Goliath.

As Goliath's head is turned ever so slightly, David lets the stone fly from his sling. That flat, smooth rock strikes him squarely on the temple, then falls harmlessly to the ground.

Goliath doesn't know what has happened. His eyes open wide in shock. He stands still as a rock.

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Young David does not reload his sling. He merely stands, empty sling dangling from his side, and waits. Waits. Waits.

Then Goliath falls, just as David knew he would. A cloud of dust billows up from the earth, which seems to rumble as Goliath's massive form collides with the battlefield.

The Israelite army roars, even as the Philistines stare in horror.



David slowly inches forward. Goliath struggles to breathe. Using two hands, because the metal weighs so very much, David grabs the giant's sword and lifts it high above his head. Then, with a powerful slice, he severs the enormous head from its body. It is a gruesome moment, but he does not look away. Instead, he raises his eyes to heaven, and then falls to his knees in thanks. David then lifts Goliath's severed head by the hair as a signal for the Israeli army to race forth and slay the Philistines.

Without waiting for a signal from their king, they charge onto the plain past David, racing forth with drawn swords and raised spears to lay waste to the Philistines.

David throws Goliath's head to the ground and stands. He is sweaty, breathless, and triumphant. He beams as Saul approaches and claps him on the shoulder. "A wolf in sheep's clothing is what you are, David. You've saved my kingdom." Saul hands David a sword more befitting his stature.

"Come. We have an enemy to conquer."

The Philistines are the first of many enemies that David will fight for Saul. As the years pass, David conquers all the enemies of Israel, always fighting alongside the man he calls his king. The Philistines are driven from the Promised Land, and David forges a deep bond of friendship with Saul and Jonathan. The Israelite army comes to believe that David is invincible, and he becomes a great leader of men--a hero.

What he doesn't tell Saul, or even Jonathan, is that before all this began, at a time when he was just the youngest of many brothers, the prophet Samuel personally anointed him to become King of the Jews. He can still

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feel the smooth olive oil dripping down from his forehead, and hear the words of Samuel proclaiming that someday he would be Israel's king.

This is David's secret. And, as with even the deepest of secrets, it is only a matter of time until it leaks out.

It is daytime as Saul, Jonathan, David, and his closest compatriot, a Hittite mercenary named Uriah, drive their chariots through the great archway marking the entrance to Saul's fortress. The victorious Israelite army follows them. There are cheers as women, old men, and children come out to greet the returning troops. The women ululate, their high-pitched exclamations



drowning out all other sounds. That is, until a chant goes up from the crowd:

"Saul! Saul! Saul!"

"Hear that, Father?" says Jonathan, smiling.

"I do," beams Saul.

"Saul has killed thousands!" roars the crowd. A relaxed Saul waves to them.

He basks in the praise.

As the chanting continues, Saul and Jonathan lead David and the troops into the fortress. They make their way on foot into a square. Fragrant petals fall through the air around them. But now a new voice rises up from the throngs. "David!" cries a woman. "Look! It's David!"

"David has killed tens of thousands!" yells a man.

This becomes the new chant. "David has killed tens of thousands! David has killed tens of thousands."

Saul's smile vanishes, replaced by a dark, angry glare. Jonathan, as always, does his best to appease his father. "David deserves their praise, Father. He served us well."

"What else does he deserve?" Saul answers bitterly. "Next they'll say he deserves my crown."

"David! David! David!"

The chant continues into the evening, giving Saul the most profound headache of his life. He reclines on cushions in his palace courtyard.

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The sounds of the crowd waft in through the open windows. Across the room, Jonathan reclines on a second mound of pillows, as do David and Michal--Saul's beautiful young daughter.

Michal can't take her eyes off of David. He is everything a princess could want in a man: rugged, handsome, sensitive, and intuitively wise.

Jonathan happily gazes at his best friend while they reminisce about their times on the battlefield. "You took out those two Philistines with one swing!"

says an awed Jonathan.

"That day was ours from the start," David answers humbly.

Saul gazes intently at David. He glowers at him from the other side of the reception chamber, his mind working over paranoid scenarios, wondering if the laughter coming from Jonathan and David is at his expense. So Saul leans forward, listening more intently. "David," he bellows after a moment.

"David!"

David stops speaking. A confused look passes between him and Jonathan.

"Come here!" Saul demands.

David rises and stands before Saul. He bows. Jonathan and Michal, who know their father's moods, share an anxious look.

"So," Saul says to David, a thin smile curling over his face. "You are our champion yet again. You've killed thousands--"

"Tens of thousands," Jonathan corrects.

"Thank you, Jonathan. Tens of thousands. Our people are deeply grateful to you, David." Saul's words belie the menacing intensity writ large across his face. Even as David affects a modest posture, Saul's anger grows and grows.

"The Lord has blessed us all," David says.

"I offer you my daughter, Michal," Saul says suddenly.

"What?" replies a stunned David, his face showing surprise.

"I would like to reward you. I want you to become part of my family. So I am offering my daughter's hand in marriage."

Michal blushes appreciatively.

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"Who am I, and who is my family that I should be the king's son-in-law?"

David says with a low bow, never taking his eyes off of Saul.

Jonathan rushes across and embraces David. "We are brothers now. This is



a great day."

But Saul raises a hand. "In return..."

The room falls silent.

"For the hand of my beloved Michal, you must slay a hundred Philistines--

and bring me their foreskins."

David's eyes narrow. His instincts were right.

"Killed by your own hand, of course," Saul adds.

Jonathan leaps to David's defense. "Father! He has risked enough. Do you not remember Goliath? Do you not remember the many times he has bravely fought at your side?"

"You surprise me, Jonathan," Saul says slowly. "I would think you would instantly agree that your sister is worth a hundred Philistines--or maybe ten thousand, as you corrected me a moment ago."

There is silence in the room. Even the chanting outside has stopped. David curls and uncurls his fist, staring Saul straight in the eye. A crushed Michal mourns what might have been, knowing that single-handedly kil ing a hundred Philistines is an almost impossible task. "But what if he doesn't return?" she softly pleads to her father. "What if David never comes back alive?"

"Oh, I'll return," says David. "God willing."

He's smiling. The time has come. His secret can finally be revealed. But first he has a job to do.

David is up early the next morning. He gathers a small band of men, their horses loaded with weapons and food. David has selected the most elite warriors in the army. Each is a volunteer, told of Saul's demand for a hundred dead Philistines and warned that they might not return. In addition, David has promised each man that it would not tarnish his

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reputation in the slightest if he refuses this mission. But not a single man has said no. In fact, many were so eager to accompany David that they began



preparing their gear immediately. They have fought at his side before, and their loyalty for this courageous man is limitless. Chief among them is Uriah.

No man is braver or more loyal on the field of battle. David trusts him with his life, and their friendship runs deep.

Surprise will be David's greatest ally. So, rather than leading his team on a circuitous path around the mountains separating the Israelites and the Philistines, he plans to go straight up and over. The trail is rocky and lined with cliffs, but there is less chance that spies will see them and warn the enemy of their approach.

David leads them out. A simple nod signals that it is time to move. No one has come to see the men off. As warriors have done since the beginning of time, each man has quietly said his good-byes to loved ones. Now they all turn their focus to the mission. The warriors quickly form their horses into a single-file line and trot toward the mountains.

At the last minute, just before they disappear from sight, David turns back to Saul's palace and waves a final salute to his king. Saul watches from the parapets, just as David knew he would. After a moment's hesitation, Saul returns the salute.

Jonathan joins his father on the parapet. "He wants our crown," says a paranoid Saul.

"He is loyal, Father. I swear it. Loyal to both of us."

"You are the heir to my kingdom, my firstborn son, and a man who will lead this kingdom for the next generation. That is why I have sent David on this mission."

Jonathan gasps as he realizes what his father has done. "You don't want him back. You want him dead."

Saul loves his son dearly, but in his opinion, the young man is always too dramatic. More than once, Saul has wished that Jonathan had the calm nerves and the sharp mind of David.

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"You love him," Saul tells his son, "as Abel no doubt loved Cain."



He is the king. His word is law. What's done is done. He walks back into the palace in search of his favorite courtesan.

Jonathan drops his head into his hands, appalled that he will see his friend no more. His friendship with David is so close their souls are knit together.

But Jonathan, like his father, underestimates David. Within weeks he and Uriah are guiding their army back into the city's main square. Crowds gather to witness their return, and a sobbing and ecstatic Michal fights her way through to the front, where she throws herself at him.

David dismounts and wraps his arms around her, never letting go of the burlap bag he grasps tightly in one fist. She is his reward for performing an impossible task at the order of his king. But in order to claim that trophy, he must finish the job.

Fol owed by his men, David swaggers into Saul's throne room. David stil clutches that bag, while his men clutch the sword and battle armor taken from the Philistines. He bows low before a most unhappy Saul. "My king,"

David says. "A few mementos for you."

When Saul first ordered David to slay one hundred Philistines, it was understood that David would provide proof. Now the king stares from his throne at the bag in David's hand. The bottom of the sack is clearly drenched in blood.

"What have you?" asks a curious Saul.

David cannot contain his smile as he holds out the bloody sack to his king.

He waits until Saul peers inside before announcing its contents to the small crowd gathered in the throne room. "In that bag, you'll find the mementos that I cut off of each man I killed."

Saul realizes what he is seeing, and recoils at the sight and smell. "These are from a hundred men?"

"Two hundred," David replies calmly. "God was with me."

Taking Michal by the hand, David turns to leave. A furious Saul

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knows that he's been beaten. Overcome with vanity and rage, he lunges forward and grabs a spear from one of his guards. With the power of a man who has thrown such a weapon for more than thirty years, he hurls it at David's head.

Michal screams as the spear narrowly misses David and sticks into the timber doorjamb.

Nobody knows what to say. Everyone stares at Saul, who stands straight and tall--but who now seems smaller and more insignificant than he did just a moment earlier. He sways slightly. His face is pale and blank. Not only has God removed His favor from Saul, but an evil spirit has begun to torment him, meaning that the powers of darkness are now influencing his behavior.

The next move is David's. All the palace guards position themselves for some sort of attack, knowing that their first job is to protect Saul. Yet David merely pulls the spear from the wood and stares deeply into Saul's dark eyes. David drops the spear to the ground. He leaves hand in hand with Michal.

But David knows better than to remain in Saul's palace and soon leaves his bride. Michal is brokenhearted, but she understands. Her loyalty now lies with her husband. When the soldiers come to take David away on orders of the king, she lies to them, saying that David is sick.

It is a simple lie, and the soldiers see through it easily as Saul's paranoia grows. But Michal's words delay them just long enough for David to escape into the desert, knowing all too well that Saul will go to any length to hunt him down and kill him. The secret is out: Saul believes that he and David are now locked in a fight for the Kingdom of Israel.

David is on the run. Wherever he goes, Saul is just one step behind. The man who was made king to lead the Israelites against the Philistines is now distracted with hunting down David and anybody loyal to him. Saul and his men range far and wide across the broad deserts and valleys of the Promised Land, leaving a cruel wake of violence and mayhem

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in their wake. At one shrine, a priest is found to have sheltered David.

Objecting to the holy man's arguments that God's house is a place of sanctuary, Saul ordered that the priest and all of his acolytes be put to the sword immediately. He is a man who has never minded getting his hands bloody, but his obsession with David takes that to another level.

At the end of a long day of chasing David, Saul's troops are encamped by a river. Tents are erected. Horses are being fed. Saul walks off from the camp.

He is alone, and he likes it that way. At the base of a cliff he looks right and left to see if anyone can hear him, and then Saul cries out to the Lord. "I have served You faithfully," he beseeches, "as faithfully as a man can. And still it seems it is not enough. Lord, I ask You, do You hear Your servant?"

He waits, but there is silence. Nothing. He wearily walks on, looking for a cool dry cave to get out of the heat. At length, he finds one. Saul steps inside. He looks around, searching for signs of life--predatory animals, poisonous snakes, or perhaps a desert ruffian who has made the cave a home.

But he sees nothing. Saul lifts his robe to relieve himself in the dim light of the cave.

A hooded figure stands behind a nearby rock. He stays in the shadows and silently extracts a knife from its sheath. Moving with utter stealth, the hooded man sneaks up behind Saul, ready to strike. But something about the breadth of those shoulders is familiar.

The hooded man is David, and he realizes that the man standing before him is a very distracted Saul. But although he is inches from Saul, he chooses not to attack him. He is loyal to the anointed king--even though that loyalty may cost him his life. Instead, he silently cuts a strip of fabric from Saul's robe and steps back into the shadows.

The instant Saul finishes his business, David cries out, "Majesty!"

Saul spins around, recognizing the voice and drawing his sword. "David?"

David removes his hood from his head. "Why do you hunt me down? Why? I have done you no harm."

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Saul warily approaches the shadows, sword at the ready. David steps toward him, and his soldiers follow. They draw their swords, but David uses one arm to wave them back.



"I could have killed you just now," David tells Saul, holding up the strip of cloth. Saul looks at the hem of his robe and slowly raises his eyes to David.

"Why didn't you?" Saul asks.

"I will not kill you. Ever."

But this only serves to infuriate Saul, for he knows that it is the truth. "Yet another reason for the Lord to reward you! You will become king!"

David shakes his head. "You are my king. Anointed by the Lord."

Saul laughs. It is low and sinister. His voice crackles from dehydration brought on by fear. "And when you are king, do you promise you will not kill my descendants and wipe out my name?"

"I will not, Majesty. I swear."

Saul considers what David has said. Then he sheathes his sword and looks chillingly into David's eyes as he holds out his hand. "Come then... let's go home... together."

David is wary. He holds Saul's gaze, and as he does so his men tighten their grip on their swords. Showing grace and a quiet strength, he walks to Saul, shakes his head, bows, and then turns to join his men.

Saul, looking wretched and aged, turns and walks back alone to his camp.

Just an hour ago he beseeched God to speak with him. And now he realizes that God has sent him a very clear message--though not the message that Saul longed to hear.

The dignity of the monarchy now belongs to David. He is the man who will be king. It's just a matter of time.

That night, Saul sits alone in his tent. He uses his dagger to carve the meat from a shank of lamb, letting its blood drip on the table. Outside, 145

he hears the thunder of hooves, signaling the arrival of a messenger. Then Jonathan enters, breathless.

"Father!" Jonathan cries.

"What is it, son?" growls Saul.

"The Philistine army is in the next val ey. Near Gilboa--"

For once, Saul couldn't care less about battle. "Jonathan," he says gently,

"David is near."

"Forget David! You must defend your kingdom. It is your duty!"

Saul grows anxious. His legendary courage is nowhere to be seen. He prepares to bawl out the orders to prepare for battle, but inside he feels a strange lack of confidence. "We leave at dawn," he mumbles meekly. "At dawn. Tell the men. And now leave me, son. I must seek guidance."

After Jonathan departs, Saul wanders alone into the night. He aims for the raging fire he has seen in the distance these past few evenings, for he knows that it is the camp of a woman who speaks to the dead. She is not an Israelite, a pagan, with no god to call her own. It is yet another example of Saul not trusting God.

Saul is dazed, tormented. He would be easy prey if he were attacked during his journey, for he carries no sword and is incapable of defending himself.

Finally, he sees the flames and hears the jangle of shells and bones that hang in a tree, blown by the wind. Saul has the presence of mind to cover the bottom of his face with a scarf, so that the medium will not know his true identity. But when he steps into the light of her fire, he sees that it does not matter. The old woman is in a trance as she sways back and forth, crying out for the spirit world to hear her--and answer.

Saul makes a simple request: "Bring up the spirit of the dead prophet Samuel."

She does not make eye contact with Saul. Instead, the seer speaks to the flames: "We ask you... the dead... for an audience with the prophet Samuel."

Samuel appears to Saul, sitting on a rock right next to him. "Why? Why do you wake me? Why do you disturb my spirit?"

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"Forgive me," an astonished Saul stammers. "I only called you because...





because when I speak to the Lord He does not answer."

Samuel looks bemused. "The Lord? Really?" A smile now flits across his bearded face. "You disobeyed the Lord," he reminds Saul.

"I tried to obey," Saul answers. "Really. I tried."

"He has torn your kingdom from you and given it to David." Samuel glares at the man he once anointed king. "Look at me, Saul."

Saul doesn't want to. He doesn't know whether Samuel is real or a ghost. To look into Samuel's eyes is to look into some great abyss that Saul has never seen before. But he looks anyway.

"This battle will be your last," Samuel says evenly.

"No. Please. No."

"Soon you will be with me in the cold earth, Saul--as will your son."

"Take me," Saul begs. "But spare Jonathan."

But Samuel is gone. The only sound Saul hears is the rattle of bones and shells clanging in the wind.

No father should ever outlive his son. The death of a child is the greatest pain anyone can bear. So when Samuel's prophecy comes true, and the Philistines put an arrow into Jonathan as he stands at Saul's side on the slopes of Mount Gilboa, the king can no longer cope with the disaster he has created. His spiral into despair is now complete.

Saul unstraps the battle armor from his chest and kneels near Jonathan.

Tears stream down his cheeks. He secures the handle in the ground, pointing the tip at his chest. Then Saul falls on his sword. He screams in agony, but his death is not quick. As the enemy approach he begs a nearby Amalekite warrior to finish him off. Instead, the Amalekite steals Saul's crown, jumps on a horse, and rides away. Leaving Saul to die slowly, with plenty of time to think of all he has done and lament all that he has lost.

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David and his men wait for news from the fight. Saul has not asked them to join in his fight against the Amalekites for fear that David will outshine him on the field of battle. David hears the clap-clap-clap of horses' hooves and the gallop of a lone horseman. He steps from the cave and draws his sword to challenge the messenger, unsure whether the rider is of the Israelite or Philistine persuasion.

It is the Amalekite who has stolen Saul's crown. He clutches it in one hand.

"A crushing victory," gasps the Amalekite messenger, winded from his long hard ride.

David smiles in relief until he hears the second half of the news: "For the Philistines."

"And the king," David demands. "What of him?"

"Dead." He now holds the crown out to David, who is reluctant to accept it.

"And his heir, Jonathan?"

The messenger smiles as he shakes his head. "Dead." He once again extends the crown to David. This time, David takes it from him.

Fingering the crown, David asks, "How did Saul die?"

The Amalekite lies and tel s David what he believes he wants to hear: "He had fallen on his own sword, and as the enemy approached he asked me to finish him off, lest he be tortured. So I slew him and brought his crown to you."

A thunderstruck David takes a deep breath and replies, "You killed the Lord's anointed," and instantly orders that the Amalekite be put to the sword.

As his men pull the messenger from his horse, David looks away. He is truly devastated by the news. He is especially saddened by the death of Jonathan, whom he loved like a brother. David looks off into the distance.

Uriah, his trusted lieutenant and confidant, moves toward his friend. David places a hand on his shoulder. "At least we can go home."

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"You don't see it, do you?" asks Uriah.



David is puzzled. He has no answer.

"This is the beginning, David. Our time has come."

Now the other men spill out of the cave and walk toward David, realizing that the new ruler of Israel stands before them. "The people will look to you to defend them," Uriah tells his friend. "They will want you to unite the Israelites once again."

David stares at Uriah, taking in his words. He is not used to being lectured, so at first he is numb to the Hittite's comments. But then they wash over him, soak into him, revitalize him. David grips Uriah's arm tightly and embraces him. "Thank you, dear friend. You are right. If God has cleared the way, we must be strong."

Now he looks at his men. He knows precisely what he must do next. "Let it begin," he pronounces.

Uriah pulls away from David's embrace. He looks David in the eye as an equal for the last time, and then slowly kneels. "Yes, my king. Let it begin."

The other men follow Uriah's lead, so that now David is the only man standing.

"King David!" they roar.

In time, all of Israel's tribes come under David's rule. As his kingdom and power grow, he decides he needs a capital city from which to rule, and a proper home for the Ark of the Covenant.

The city he chooses is just five miles from David's childhood home in Bethlehem. It is an inspired choice, situated at the crossroads of the north and south trading routes, with deep valleys protecting it on three sides, and a constant supply of fresh water nearby. Abraham once visited here during his years of wandering, back when the city was called Salem. Now it is ruled by a people called the Jebusites, who call the city Jebus.

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David plans to conquer the city and give it a new name: City of David. Later this city will return to its pre-Davidic name: Jerusalem. It is a name that honors God, for it means "God is peace." The last part of the word is shalom



in Hebrew.

In David's dream, he sees that Israel will finally know peace during his reign.

That will one day come to pass.

This ancient fortress is already occupied. And walled. If David is to make Jebus his own, he must take it by force. The king of Israel has a plan to penetrate those enormous and guarded walls.

Nighttime. David's lean, muscular torso is wedged inside a sewer pipe. He emerges into a larger tunnel and lights a torch. Soon, the rest of his army climbs into the light behind him. The sound of dripping water echoes up and down the dank stone enclosure. A river of cold black water rises up to their ankles.

The men crawl slowly through the sludge. They do not speak, and

communicate only by hand signals. The tunnel soon opens up into a wider chamber completely filled with deep water. Their way is blocked by iron bars rising from the ceiling clear down into the depths below.

Uriah looks at David and raises an eyebrow. What do we do next? he seems to be asking.

David simply hands him his torch and dives into the filthy water. A minute passes. And then what seems like another. Uriah and the others anxiously watch and wait, peering down into the muck to where the bottom of the iron bars might be. It feels like an eternity.

Suddenly, David surfaces and treads water on the opposite side of the bars.

"Come on."

Uriah hesitates. He's never been much of a swimmer, even in the clearest of waters. But to immerse himself in this filth and then open his eyes to find his way... the thought is reprehensible. A glance at the other men shows that they are experiencing the same fears. "Leave the

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torches," David commands. With three simple words and a powerful tone of voice he has reminded the men that he is no mere soldier. He is the king.

And he must be obeyed. Uriah sets down his torch and jumps in. The quiet splashes of the other men soon follow.

A passage leads from the sewer into the city's underground reservoir, filled with drinking water. David and the men happily immerse themselves in the cool clear water, eager to clean themselves. They swim onward through the cistern until a thin shaft of light plays on the water.

"A well," Uriah says with a smile.

David merely nods, his eyes searching the narrow stone walls for the one requirement vital to all wells: a rope. He spies it in the cleft between two rocks and swims for it.

Within ten minutes David and his men have all pulled themselves up the rope and out of the well. They are now inside the walled city of Jebus. They move quietly through the nighttime shadows. It is well past midnight, and the city is asleep. Two Jebusite soldiers walk past on a lonely patrol. David and Uriah pounce, silently slit their throats, and drag their bodies into an alley, then move carefully to the city's main gates to open them for his main force.

Only when he and his men are in position, does David yell his battle cry:

"Israel!"

The roar of his voice carries through the night. Outside the city, David's waiting army hears him and runs to the gate. Inside the walls, David and his men overpower the guards manning the gates and pull down the great levers that raise the opening. A Jebusite guard slashes at an unaware Uriah.

But David saves his friend's life by running the man through with his broadsword.

Nothing needs to be said. Uriah merely nods his thanks. He and David stand back to welcome the army into the city.

By dawn it is done. The gates of Jebus are still open, but where there was darkness there is now sunlight. Where there were fighting soldiers, there is now a happy crowd of Israelites cheering David and the conquest

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of Jebus, which they will rename the City of David--and, ultimately, Jerusalem.

God is honored in a procession that winds through the crowd, and the



morning sun flashes off a moving sheet of gold. Priests in multicolored ephods lead the way. A wooden box plated with gold is carried through town on long wooden poles. Heads bow as it passes, for this is the most potent symbol of Israel's bond with God. It is the Ark of the Covenant, and it contains the Ten Commandments.

Israelite children run gleefully alongside, not realizing the majesty of this moment. David dances with spiritual fervor in front of the procession, and even invites the children to join him. Once the children have begun to dance, he invites men and women from the crowd. This is a masterstroke of kingship for David, combining the joy of his victory with the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant. He is consolidating his city as the center of religious and political power. Right now, at this very moment, it seems he can do no wrong.

But he is a man. And where there is man there is sin. So even in his moment of greatest of triumph, temptation clouds David's judgment. He knows better.

He knows that God has blessed him in abundance, and that the sin that is now crossing his mind is no different than turning his back on God.

But he can't help himself. The woman before him is so beautiful. No, delectable. Every manly urge in his body desires her. She is sensual, voluptuous, wondrous, and dazzling to behold. And she is untouchable--

Uriah's wife.

"Do you mind?" David yells to Uriah above the roar of the crowd, extending his hand to Bathsheba.

Uriah nods his acceptance.

"I mind," says Bathsheba, smiling. David takes her hand anyway and swirls her into a dance.

Uriah watches David. Surely he is imagining it. Can David really be dancing this close to his wife. He is more than a little uneasy with how much David seems to be enjoying himself.

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No matter whether it is night or day, Bathsheba is never far from David's thoughts as he turns Jerusalem into a thriving hub of Israelite power. As king, it seems only right that he possess anything in his kingdom that he desires--and right now, he desires Bathsheba.

David stands on the roof, surveying a model of his proposed temple in front of him. The sight is beautiful to behold. It is broad daylight. From his palace's rooftop terrace, he can look down into the courtyards of the many homes and gardens that surround its walls.

Suddenly, David's gaze is distracted by another wondrous vision. Down below, two women servants hold up a sheet to conceal their mistress as she washes in her courtyard bath. Too bad for them that the sheets protect this woman--Bathsheba--only from the side. No one ever thought that the king himself might be looking down from on high, watching her naked body as she soaps and oils her skin.

It is just a bath. A simple daily ritual that Bathsheba enjoys. She is merely washing herself. David considers this sight to be the pinnacle of beauty and sensuality. He is out of his mind with desire. This afternoon bath he is witnessing has made him incapable of coherent thought. David, a man after God's own heart, is in the clutches of a most powerful temptation, and drifting further and further from God.

A man clears his throat behind him. "Your Majesty?"

Startled, David snaps out of his trance. He turns to see the robed prophet Nathan strolling tentatively across the terrace, curious as to what sight has David so inspired.

"Ah, prophet!" David enthuses. "Look! My temple... for the Ark."

"I don't understand, Your Highness. You've summoned me to discuss... a temple?"

David beckons to him and points down to the small architectural model of his glorious temple. It is stunning to behold, with towering pillars and the sturdy walls of a fortress. "The world has never seen anything like this, prophet.

The Lord will be pleased."

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But if Nathan is dazzled, he does not show it. He stands still. Then he



speaks in solemn tones. "The Lord came to me last night."

"And tell me: is He pleased with our work?"

"The Lord told me this: the House of David will rule over Israel forever."

"We are blessed," David exults, overcome with joy. As if to punctuate the enormity of his blessings, he sidles back over to the wall and gapes once again at Bathsheba.

"Your son will be king," Nathan is telling him, although David isn't listening.

"Your son," he says louder, making sure that he is heard, "will build this temple."

A stunned David turns around. "My temple?"

"God's temple," Nathan corrects.

"Right, right," David says, temporarily forgetting Bathsheba. "God's temple."

He longs for the construction of a great monument to ensure that Israel will always remember his accomplishments. But now God will not grant him that comfort. Instead, it will be his son who will be remembered.

A son. The thought turns David's disappointment to gratitude. Oh, how wonderful. I will have a son, and to know that my son will be king. And that his son's son will succeed him. And so on. Forever.

"Thank you, Nathan," David says, dismissing the prophet.

Nathan leaves. David turns back to the vision below and walks to a lower deck where he can see her more vividly. Even from on high, Bathsheba's wet skin glistens in the sun.

David is troubled by the thoughts that this vision produces. He feels so irrational, capable of almost any sin to satisfy the desires now stirring within him.

He tries to look away. But he can't.

It is spring, the time of year that all kings and warriors should be off waging war. But David has chosen to remain in his palace rather than

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fight. If anyone asks, he explains that affairs of state need his urgent attention. But he knows that those matters can be handled from a battlefield headquarters. He wants the other men to be gone--particularly Uriah--

leaving him alone with Bathsheba.

One warm evening he summons her to his bedroom, the one place that makes his intentions abundantly clear. David's servant leads her into the chamber. One never refuses the king's request, but Bathsheba is a reluctant visitor. Her eyes are cautious and her movements stiff. She has never been fearful in the presence of the king, because her husband has always been at her side. But she is a woman, blessed with the intuition and instinct that comes from a lifetime of men gazing at her longingly. She knows that David wants her--Bathsheba can sense it in the way his eyes prowl across the curves of her body, and in the way that gaze lingers a bit too long on her hair or her eyes. She is flattered that the king would find her beautiful, but she is too in love with Uriah--too devoted to his own tender glances and warm caresses--to ever think of King David in that way.

Bathsheba knows she will refuse him, even as she steps into the room and the servant prepares to announce her. What she wonders is whether or not she will tell her husband of David's intentions. Uriah would be crushed to know that his good friend and king has plotted such a great act of disloyalty.

"Majesty," the servant announces, "as you requested."

David reclines on the bed, a goblet of wine in his hand. He is clothed in his finest evening robes and his feet are bare. "Ah, Bathsheba," he exults as he dismisses his servant.

"Majesty," she answers. Her voice is flat, wary.

"Call me David."

"Have you called to give me news of my husband?"

The king smiles and moves to one side, making room on the bed for Bathsheba should she choose to sit. "No. It's nothing like that. He's safe enough, of that I'm sure. Although I would be remiss in pointing out that he's very far away."



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"And you, Majesty, if I may be so bold: why aren't you off fighting the enemy, too?"

"There's no need, Bathsheba. I have very competent men to that for me--men like Uriah."

David is on his feet now, walking to Bathsheba. She remains motionless, knowing what is about to transpire. David circles her, like a wolf sizing up its prey.

"I am loyal to my husband," Bathsheba says firmly. And yet inside she quivers, for the closer that David stands to her, the more aware she becomes that he is the most powerful and revered man in Israel.

"And what about your king?" he asks, stopping to look her in the eye. "Are you loyal to me, as wel ?"

He slides a hand around the back of her neck and pulls her face toward him.

When she doesn't resist, David gently kisses her neck. And then her lips.

Only then does Bathsheba pul away. "This is wrong," she whispers.

"No one needs to know," says David, holding her more firmly as he kisses the soft skin where her neck and shoulders meet. He forces himself not to think about God, or that he is violating two of the Ten Commandments--

coveting his neighbor's wife and committing adultery. All David wants is Bathsheba.

She is unable to refuse her king. Soon he has her.

Then he sends her home.

For every sin is a consequence--a punishment, a lesson learned, or a slow downward spiral into a personal wilderness.

For David, it is all three. One month after bedding the lovely Bathsheba, she confronts him with the rather troubling news that she is pregnant with his child.

"You're sure?" David asks, digesting the news by staring out the window.



Bathsheba has tears in her eyes. She nods.

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"And how long has your husband been away?"

"He's not the father," she says firmly.

But David isn't satisfied. He needs to cover his sin. So after Bathsheba is sent away, he immediately recalls Uriah from the front lines. It takes days, but soon his longtime friend stands before him in the palace. The Hittite warrior's face is battle-scarred and covered in grime.

"Uriah, my friend," David says warmly, pulling him close for a hug.

"Welcome."

"You sent for me, Majesty," Uriah says stiffly. He is angry that David has called him away from his men, and he is eager to return to the front.

"How goes the war?"

"Well. Very well."

An uncomfortable pause settles between them. "And your commander, Joab--all is well with him?"

"All is well," Uriah replies.

"And your fellow soldiers?" asks David, running out of things to say.

"They fight well."

"Well, after you wake in the morning you must return and give me a complete report."

David waves a hand, the gesture for Uriah to leave.

"I will not be here in the morning," says Uriah.

"But of course you will. I give you permission. Surely you want to be with your wife."

Uriah's face grows tight. He is growing impatient. It is late afternoon. If he





leaves now he can make it back to the safety of the Israelite encampment before dark. "I cannot stay with my wife," he tells David.

"Of course you can!"

"While my men are camped in open country? While my men prepare to fight the enemy? Knowing that, how could I possibly go home and spend the night with my wife?"

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David displays a friendly grin--as if they are both in this together. "Man to man, who's to know?"

" I will know, Majesty."

David calls for wine, hoping that getting his friend drunk will break his resolve. But Uriah remains true to his word, insisting that he must leave immediately for the front. "Give this to Joab," David says, handing a sealed letter to Uriah. "See to it that he opens it immediately."

Uriah rides into the Israelite camp and takes the fateful letter directly to Joab, who sees the king's seal on the parchment and steps away to read it in private. "Joab," David has written, "put Uriah in the front lines where the fighting is fiercest. Then withdraw from him so that he will be struck down and die."

This is Uriah's death sentence.

Joab looks up from the letter, and stares into Uriah's eyes. He wants to say something, but he has been trained to follow orders without question, so he kneels and places the letter into a nearby cooking fire. "Uriah," he says, "I have news for you. It's an assignment--a very dangerous assignment."

Uriah is savaged on the battlefield. The only person who benefits from Uriah's murder is David. Bathsheba knows nothing of the plan, and while devastated by her husband's death, she takes solace in knowing that Uriah died a hero. She mourns him for an appropriate time, like any good widow, and when David takes her for his wife the act is seen throughout the kingdom as an act of graciousness on his part--the devoted king marrying the pregnant wife of his fallen friend to save her from bearing a child who will not have a father. In time, the Queen of Israel, as Bathsheba is now known, bears a son. David, King of Israel, a man after God's own heart, has committed the perfect crime.

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But God knows, and He speaks to His prophet, Nathan, who soon appears in David's palace to confront the king. It is night. The air smells of sage, juniper, and wood smoke. David stands in a courtyard sipping from a goblet of wine, consumed with the pleasure which comes from being king--and having each and every one of his dreams come true. Nathan's shadow falls across the tiled floor, backlit by a large torch.

"There were two men in a certain town," he tells David. "One rich, the other poor. The rich man had a very large number of sheep and cattle. The poor man had nothing but a single ewe that he had bought. He raised it, and it grew up with him and his children. It shared his food, drank from his cup, and even slept in his arms like a daughter.

"Now, a traveler came to the rich man. But instead of using one of his own flock to prepare a meal, the rich man stole the poor man's sheep and slaughtered it to serve to his guest."

David is infuriated by the story. "Find this man! As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this deserves to die."

"You are that man! Do you think you can just sweep what you've done under the carpet?" Nathan angrily whispers to David. "You took everything from Uriah, your poor loyal servant. He deserved your respect."

"I did respect him," David whispers back, fearing that Bathsheba might hear.

She is near, on a wooden bench beneath a towering date palm, nursing their son.

Nathan nods to Bathsheba. "Really? You took his wife. And then... his life."

David's fury grows. "Prophet!" he shouts, shaking a finger at Nathan.

But Nathan is doing God's work. He has no fear of a mortal man. David's newborn son begins to cry, as Nathan steps closer and condemns the king in a loud and emphatic voice. "You think that God doesn't see everything?

The Lord has spoken to me. I tell you this: He will soon bring disaster on



your house."

"But I am His chosen one," replies a stunned David.

"Yes. You will not die. But you have shown contempt for the Lord, and there will be a consequence."

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"I have sinned," David says mournfully, finally realizing what he has done. "I have sinned."

David's son begins to cry.

David, king of Israel, kneels in the tabernacle tent, the Ark of the Covenant arrayed before him. This is not the smug David of just a week earlier, who believed that his chosen status somehow exempted him from God's

judgment. He has been fasting for seven days. Now he is dressed in sackcloth, a coarse and drab material that scratches his skin and possesses none of the brilliant colors and precise tailoring of the royal robes. These are the clothes of a slave, the clothes worn by his ancestors during their years in Egypt. And like a slave pleading with a master to spare his life, David is pressed flat to the ground. He begs and pleads, "Anything, Lord. I will do anything You command. Please spare my child."

David's prayer has also lasted seven days. The lack of food and his focus on God give his the face the delusional look of a man who has lost his way.

And then he hears Bathsheba scream.

David pushes himself to his feet and races from the tent, stepping out backward so as not to turn his back on the Ark. He races through the palace, searching for someone who can give him news. He finds a servant. "What news?"

But the man cannot bring himself to speak. David races on, until he hears a soft shuffling noise coming from a long hallway. It is Bathsheba, and she is so pale and drawn that she can barely walk. In her arms is the limp bundle of blankets holding her dead son. Bathsheba's eyes are red-rimmed from crying.



David collapses and wails in agony.

"First my husband, and now my son," says Bathsheba. "We are cursed."

"But I was anointed," David whimpers. "God blessed me."

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Nathan speaks next, standing over David. "Then you abused your power, and turned to tyranny. A king is never above his God."

David blinks back tears.

"You were supposed to rule in His name, not your own," continues Nathan.

"We're finished," groans Bathsheba. "The people will all see that God has left us."

Nathan says nothing. David stares at him, waiting for an answer. "Prophet?"

he asks.

"God loves you, David. Even though you are weak. You have admitted your sins and asked for forgiveness. You have also forged God's nation on earth.

He will not take this away from you," Nathan tells him. And then, to Bathsheba: "And he will grant you another son."

That son's name is Solomon. He builds the great temple in Jerusalem, just as Nathan prophesied. Long after David and Bathsheba pass on, that temple provides a permanent home for the Ark of the Covenant.

Solomon gains a reputation as the wisest man in the world. His rule as king of Israel is a time of prosperity and peace. But like David, Solomon finds it impossible to follow God's law. He is a man easily corrupted by his privilege and passions. After he dies, power continues to corrupt Israel's kings.

Maintaining God's kingdom on earth becomes harder and harder as

powerful new enemies emerge to threaten the Israelite claim to the Promised Land. Civil war will split the nation in two. Prophets will warn of coming destruction if the kings and people do not turn back to God. They will struggle for centuries. The Northern Kingdom will be destroyed by the Assyrian army. The Southern Kingdom will be carried into captivity.

A new prophet named Daniel will speak in images telling of a dream in



which God promised to once again save the Israelites by sending them a new king. "There before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He was given authority, glory, and sovereign

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power. All peoples, nations, and men of every language worshipped him."

Daniel is dazzled as he speaks, overcome with the majesty and wonder of the dream that God revealed to him. But he does not know when he will come. Nor does Daniel know that this king will be directly descended from David, nor that his name will be Jesus.

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