Before getting into the main story, we find out that Samuel is dead. The delivery is every bit as brutal in the text, too, though I apologize to anyone who had gotten attached.
Of his death, we are told only that it happened, that the people grieved, and that he was buried in his house at Ramah. My study Bible notes simply, “the brevity of the obituary is surprising” (p. 365). No kidding.
My New Bible Commentary wonders if the note might not have been added to make a theological point, noting that it occurs right after Saul acknowledges that David will succeed him as king of Israel. From this perspective, Samuel’s death serves to punctuate that story, declaring Samuel’s mission to find a proper king for Israel officially over.
David in the wilderness
For the rest of the chapter, we return to David’s adventures in the wilderness. He is now holed up in the wilderness of Paran or, perhaps, the wilderness of Maon (the Septuagint reading). My study Bible notes that the latter is more plausible, as Paran would put David too far south.
How David manages to keep his 600 followers fed is something of a mystery. My study Bible emphasises that the area would have been quite arid, though 600 is a lot of mouths to feed even for lush ground. It helps to explain why he has been moving so much. It’s also worth keeping in mind as we try to understand the story of his interaction with Nabal.
David and Abigail, by Joseph Schonmann
So David is hanging out in the wilderness with his 600 followers, and he’s doing something. He and some other people in the story claim that he’s a sort of Robin Hood figure, just hanging out and protecting shepherds from wannabe bandits. Take the fancy speeches out, however, and a rather different picture is painted.
David sends ten messengers out to a wealthy shepherd by the name of Nabal. It’s in the middle of sheep shearing, apparently a festival time, and David wants his followers fed. Nabal, whose name means something like “fool”, refuses. He asks who is this David who makes such a claim of him – “There are many servants nowadays who are breaking away from their masters” (1 Sam. 25:10). Why should he feed David’s followers when he has his own to feed?
When the messengers report back to David, he is furious. One interpretation has him angry because the laws of hospitality have been violated – a tremendous insult. Another suggests that perhaps David is a bandit leader and this is how he’s keeping his followers fed. Either way, he orders 400 of his followers to arm up, leaving the remaining 200 to guard their stuff, and marches out. His intention is to kill every male under Nabal’s authority (presumably meaning both livestock and people). Hilariously, the King James Version has the euphemism “any that pisseth against the wall” (1 Sam. 25:22) in place of “male.” Apparently, this is a defining characteristic of masculinity!
Meanwhile, Nabal’s wife, Abigail, hears about the messengers. Unlike her foolish husband, she is “of good understanding and beautiful” (1 Sam. 25:3). Without telling her husband, she quickly pulls together a feast and rushes out to meet David.
When she reaches him, she throws herself at his feet and brown noses for 8 verses straight. She assumes the guilt in the incident because her husband is a total nincompoop and she failed to hear of David’s messengers sooner – an interesting argument, to be sure. During her speech, she references God appointing David “prince over Israel” (1 Sam. 25:30) in the future, suggesting (perhaps an unintentional anachronism) that David’s bid for the crown was broadly known.
David thanks her for staying his hand and preventing him from taking on the bloodguilt of murdering all the wall pissers.
When Abigail returns home, she finds Nabal partying and drunk, and she decides not to tell him about what she’s done (and the danger he was so recently in). The next morning, once he’s sobered up a little, Abigail tells him and his “heart died within him, and he became as a stone” (1 Sam. 25:37) – suggesting some kind of stroke – and he conveniently dies ten days later. David gives thanks to God for getting the foolish Nabal out of the way and sends in a petition for Abigail’s hand in marriage. She accepts.
Overshadowed by such a great “first meeting” story, David also marries a woman from Jezreel named Ahinoam. We are told that he technically has only two wives at this point because Saul has married Michal off to Palti, son of Laish (much as he did Michal’s sister in 1 Sam. 18:19).
Oct 03, 2014 @ 10:00:35
Am I the only one who gets a king Joffrey vibe from David’s casual recourse to mass murder in the Bible?
Oct 03, 2014 @ 15:26:05
Just a tad!
Oct 04, 2014 @ 02:37:49
The thing that still twists my mind is why David marries Abigail, I mean sure she is beautiful. But he is not family to Nabal that I am aware off. If, he was it would make a lot more sense in terms of the Leviticus and other OT laws.
Oct 05, 2014 @ 11:09:18
I think that the nicest reasoning is that the Levirate laws were not consistently applied, or perhaps she had already had a child/children with Nabal whom the author did not think worth mentioning. Either way, he fancied her, she was available, and the rest is history.
A not so nice reasoning would have David take an interest in Abigail. Then he either has an active hand in her husband’s death (perhaps directly, or perhaps somewhat indirectly as with Uriah later on) or waits until Nabal dies naturally. Either way, he uses his bandit powers to direct her options (or, if his feelings are reciprocated, to tell her neighbours/family how to feel about their marriage).
Either way, I think you’re right to point out that there’s some hint of shady goings on, which appears to be something of a pattern where David is concerned…
Dec 31, 2015 @ 17:15:44
I’m confused about Micah. How can Saul have married her to someone else if she had previously been married to David? Could David be divorced in abstentia? Did he have to remove a sandal?
I was very surprised while reading this section. I agree that a lot of what David is doing, the Abigail/Nabal story in particular, doesn’t make much sense unless David was a rebel/bandit cheiftan terrorizing the region and demanding tribute. That makes David another character with questionable motives and morality who’s been retconned into a hero.
Viewing things like the Nob slaughter in this context, it sounds like Saul was trying to suppress a popular rebellion and later editors reframed and sanitized David’s role and villified Saul.
When it comes to editing together different versions of stories, one thing I wonder is if the ancient Jewish editors were aware of the conflicts and sloppiness in the final work, but felt compelled to leave the inconsistencies in, anyway. As they compiled their sources into a single narrative, were they afraid to change or choose between ‘facts’ if their conflicting source materials were considered sacred texts?
An aside — I don’t know the attitudes of ancient Jewish scribes, but from things I’ve read about ancient Rome, written history was not expected to be objective truth. What were important were the moral lessons that history could teach, and much written Roman history is unapologetic propoganda. It was OK for an historian to alter and invent, because the facts were not the main point. In particular, Roman authors put lots of editorializing speeches into the mouths of historical figures. The distinction between history and fiction could be pretty fuzzy and many Roman authors need to be read with a dose of skepticism.
The glut of gospels (cannonical and not) that were written in the first and second centuries should be approached with similar skepticism. Gospels were just a literary form for presenting religious teaching, in the same way that ancient essays were written in the form of fictional discussions between characters. Gospels were not intended to be read as genuine first-person accounts, just as dialogues did not pretend to be transcripts of actual conversations. They were just vehicles for presenting ideas and instruction.
A further aside — the modern idea of objective reporting, free from editorial slant, is actually a very recent concept. It originated with the rise of newspaper chains and syndicated news in the late 1800s and early 1900s. By being totally objective and neutral, a news story would be acceptable to run in any newspaper, regardless of the editorial stance of that paper. This has evolved from a practical consideration (don’t alienate potential customers!) into a deeply-held ethical issue, one that I have great respect for.
Jan 01, 2016 @ 12:24:02
With Micah, there may be a difference between her having been promised to David and her actually marrying him, and perhaps that’s the important detail. Another possibility is that Saul was king and who was going to stop him?
A third possibility is that David was declared a traitor/rebel, and therefore legally dead as far as the State was concerned. Therefore, Micah might have been seen as a widow. My google fu is weak today, but I seem to recall hearing about some similar “legal widowhood” from ancient stories.
My understanding is similar to yours – that what we view as “fact” has evolved over time (I want to call it a product of the Enlightenment, but I’m not sure how accurate that would be). Sort of like how there was a common practice of claiming letters/tales were written by someone else – someone who was well respected but perhaps even dead. Doesn’t mean everyone liked it and no one had issues with it, but it would have been a recognized convention.