back to sermons


The Adventures of David the Fugitive
or, On Knowing Who You Are

a sermon on 1 Samuel 16.1-13
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama




If you do not know who you are, the world will chew you up. If you do not know who you are, your identity will be pounded and shaped and molded by circumstances, by other people, until one day you see yourself in the mirror and realize you do not want to be the person you see staring back at you. If you do not know who you are, your choices will lead you, like a lost camper in the woods, around and around in circles until you figure out you are lost and you don’t know how to get home.

If you do not know who you are, other people will be happy to tell you. The trouble is, they usually have their own agenda. They want to sell you something. They want your loyalty. Or maybe they simply want you to be like them. Even those who love you and mean well can guide you in the wrong direction if you do not know who you are.

This morning we are going to consider the adventures of David while he was a fugitive. Life on the run was fraught with opportunities to go down the wrong path. How easy it would have been for David to be unfaithful to God, unfaithful to his people, unfaithful to himself. Often the wrong thing was the easy thing to do. Usually the wrong thing seemed right. David navigated this difficult time of his life the way sailors navigated ships in the age of sail. Before they had modern equipment, sailors looked to the stars. One star in particular was important because it never moved in the sky, the North Star. David had a fixed point of reference in his own life—he knew he was God’s anointed king. God had chosen him to rule Israel. This was his identity, and like the North Star it provided a certain and true reference by which he could steer.

When David was a boy, Samuel visited his father with a surprising message. God had rejected Saul as king of Israel. Saul was Israel’s first king, but he would be the last of his line to rule. God had appointed someone new, and the man God wanted was one of Jesse’s sons. Our scripture reading is among the most memorable in the Bible. Jesse parades seven of his sons before Samuel. Samuel sees the first one and right away jumps to the conclusion that he must be the one God has chosen. But God says no. “Do not look on his appearance,” says the Lord, “or the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see … ” Then that great line: “They look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

When God rejects each of the seven sons, a confused Samuel turns to Jesse and asks, “Are these all the sons you have?” Now it is Jesse’s turn to be confused, “Well, there is one more, just a boy. He’s tending the sheep. But surely he cannot be …” “Send for him,” Samuel cuts in. And when young David arrives, God confirms that he is the one. Then Samuel did as God commanded and anointed David king over Israel. Scripture tells us that the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Then Samuel went his way. Saul was still living. He was still the king Israel acknowledged. But now David knew who he was, and that knowledge made all the difference as he began the adventures that would take him from tending his father’s sheep to tending God’s people Israel.

Many people, having been anointed king, would become arrogant and expect others to make way for them. How does a new king usually supplant an old one? He rallies the people to his side and rises in armed revolt. You may be surprised to hear what David’s first job was after Samuel anointed him king. David became Saul’s servant. David was a skilled musician, and Saul’s court needed his services. David went. He kept his identity as the next king secret, but he knew, and that was enough. His job was humble, but he did it well. David was humble although he was destined for greatness. He might have said, “I’m no servant. I’m God’s chosen. I’m too good to be Saul’s servant,” but he didn’t.

I have noticed that it is usually the insecure person who lacks humility. A strong, secure person does not mind doing a humble job. The insecure person hides behind titles and honors and considers himself or herself above humble tasks and better than other people. It is as if that person is unsure of himself and fears he may not be who he wants to be, so he puts on airs, because he needs the airs to convince himself. A person who knows who she is doesn’t have that fear or that need. Think of Paul. He was the apostle to the Gentiles. Ridicule, persecution, beatings, imprisonment—he was not ashamed of any of it. He knew who he was. Or think of Jesus. He was the Son of God, yet he became poor, despised, crucified, and he was not ashamed. He knew who he was and he trusted his Father.

The next incident in David’s life recorded in the Bible is his match with Goliath. Just as knowing who he was meant he did not think too much of himself, so too it meant he did not think too little of himself. How everyone else could stand by day after day listening to Goliath blaspheme God was more than David could understand. Someone had to do something, and if no one else would, David would. He was still young, still small. Saul’s armor swallowed him whole. So he faced the giant without it. When Goliath made fun of David, he answered, “You come to me with sword, spear, and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel.” David knew who he was, and that gave him courage.

After this David’s relationship with Saul soured because Saul was jealous of David’s popularity. Even as Saul was growing to hate David, however, Saul’s son Jonathan became David’s best friend. This too might seem odd. Jonathan was heir apparent to his father’s throne, the same throne God had promised David. We might expect a rivalry, but there was none. They were the kind of friends that stick closer than brothers. David was always loyal to Jonathan. In fact, many years later, once David was king, he showed great kindness to Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth. David knew who he was, so he could afford to be kind, caring, and merciful. Where lesser men would have seen Jonathan as an obstacle to their own success, David found a friend. If you don’t know who you are, other people can seem threatening. You miss out on the blessings of friendship because you feel a need to protect yourself—a need you probably wouldn’t have if you were secure.

At this point the story gets wild. Saul begins looking for a way to get rid of David. On one occasion, he throws two spears at David. Then he makes up to him and puts David in charge of a division of the army. The idea is to let the Philistines kill David in battle. Saul even offers his daughter to David in marriage if David will kill 100 Philistines. Unfortunately for Saul, David always succeeds in battle. His fame grows more and more. The people love him more and more. Eventually Saul simply decides to kill David himself. Jonathan and his sister Michal, David’s wife, help David escape; and David begins his life as an outlaw.

Two incidents that occurred during this time are of particular interest to us this morning. The first is: David spared Saul’s life. David had around him a small band of warriors who were loyal to him. They basically ran a protection racket in the hills of Judea. On one occasion, Saul took 3,000 warriors into the hills to hunt down David and kill him. Nature called, and Saul went into a cave to relieve himself. As it happened, David and his men were hiding in that cave. David’s men were gleeful, “Here’s your chance! God has given Saul into your hand! Kill him!” If you were David, what would you have done? David spared Saul. He snuck up to him and cut a corner off his cloak, as proof that he could have killed him if he had wanted to. Then David waited until Saul had left, called out a greeting from the entrance to the cave, and showed Saul how close he had come to death. The reason David gave his men for his mercy was this: “Saul is the Lord’s anointed king. Someday I will take his place, but no one should ever raise a hand against God’s anointed for any reason.” Now of course, this was a shrewd political move. David set a precedent that no one should try to harm the king. That could prove helpful once he was king. But, how did he know he would be king? Killing Saul could have propelled him to the throne. By letting Saul go, he was only delaying the possibility of his own rule. That didn’t seem to bother David. He knew who he was. He knew who had promised. That was enough. He could afford to be merciful. He could afford to love his enemy and return good for evil, just as Jesus would later teach. This actually happened twice. The other time David spied Saul’s camp and snuck into it and made off with some of Saul’s gear as proof he could have killed him but did not.

The other incident found David in a tight place. David decided that if he stayed in Israel, Saul would eventually get him, so David and his men went over to the Philistines and hired on as vassals of a king there. David was given a city to watch over, and he and his men made raids against neighboring lands—except Israel. David would not fight against his own people. But, the Philistines went to war against Israel. The Philistine king expected David to fight. He was caught in a conflict of loyalties. Fortunately, the other Philistine leaders objected to David’s presence on the battlefield, and he was sent home. Even in exile, even when he was far from home, in tough circumstances, David knew who he was. That knowledge kept him sane, and it kept him from doing something terrible.

There is more to David’s story, but we do not have time to go over every detail. You can read it for yourself in the book of 1 Samuel. If you do, pay attention to how David’s security in his own identity made a difference all along the way. Tempted to selfishness, tempted to compromise, he held firm. Saul tried to squeeze him into a mold; his family and his friends tried to squeeze him into a mold. He wouldn’t squeeze. He knew who he was.

One last thing I need to point out about David: He was so secure in his identity because God had given it to him. He didn’t decide, “Hey, I want to be king,” and set out to do it. It wasn’t his own hopes and dreams that gave him such strength, nor was it what other people told him. God had chosen him. That made the difference. People might be wrong. His own hopes and dreams might be wrong or uncertain. But not God. God promised, and David knew God is faithful. God can do it. God will do it. When God says something, it is certain. David’s identity was strong and secure because God had given it to him. I hope you see how important that is. David was God’s chosen. For him, being faithful to God was far more important than any concerns he had about Saul or any other enemy. God could deal with his enemies. Let David be faithful to God.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: “This is all very interesting. It is important to know who you are. That’s true. And David knew who he was. He had the significant advantage of being God’s anointed king. So this is a great sermon for anyone who has been picked out by God and anointed, but what good does it do me?” My answer is: This sermon will only help you if God has told you who you are. Therefore, it will help you because God has done just that.

Remember I compared David’s anointing at the hands of Samuel to the North Star. It was a fixed point that always pointed him in the right direction. You have not one—no not merely one fixed point in your life—but two! God does tell you who you are and give you an identity, an identity as fixed and certain as David’s. God has chosen you. God has called you. God has made you somebody—somebody special. How has he done it? What are the two fixed points of your identity?

The first is … the cross. When you look at the cross of Christ you discover who you are. The cross tells you at least two significant things about yourself that are reliable and true. They are nothing less than God’s definitive statement of who you are and who God is making you to be. You are a work in progress. God is not finished. The cross reveals both where you are and where you are going, by God’s grace.

The first thing the cross reveals is not a happy truth, for the cross shows us our sin and alienation from God. We can be happy because this knowledge does not come to us apart from God’s solution. We look at the cross and see we are sinners, but at the same instant we realize our sin we also understand the depths of God’s love. While we were sinners, Christ died for us. God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself. You look at the cross, you know God loves you, and it hits you that if Jesus had to do this for you, your need must be enormous. And it is, but his love is greater. So we are not going to dwell on the sin, except you may find this very encouraging if you regularly look in the mirror and despair of who you are. You already had an inkling, before you looked at the cross, that something was wrong. Maybe it is a vague sense of disappointment or frustration, or perhaps something specific you did (or someone did to you) that eats at you. The cross is honest about our sin and about our brokenness, and that’s a good thing because most of us are already aware that we need God’s help.

The second thing the cross reveals is, of course, God’s love. Christ died for you. That gives you worth. It gives your life meaning. It makes life worth living. How exciting is it that the one solid truth about yourself that you can always fall back on turns out to be the highest, most important thing! When you have nothing else, you have his love.

So your first fixed point is the cross. The second is even more personal. It is the way God takes what Jesus did on the cross and through his resurrection and applies it to you. It is your experience that corresponds most closely with David’s anointing. I speak, of course, of your baptism.

When Jesus was baptized, the Spirit descended in the form of a dove and a voice from heaven said, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” When you were baptized, God said the same thing to you. “You are my son …” “You are my daughter …” “With you I am well pleased.” In baptism God claims you. Baptism is the sacrament through which God gives you your identity as a Christian and makes you part of his family.

Of course, faith is closely associated with baptism. Without faith, baptism rings hollow. We baptize infants to testify to God’s grace, anticipating their faith. I might add that churches that only baptize professing believers also anticipate that those who are baptized will continue in their faith, so it is not as big a difference as some might think. Anyway, faith is important. It is necessary. Yet, we must still keep the emphasis on God. Faith is on our part a response to the Good News. Faith is on God’s part something he works in us. Our emphasis should always be on God and his grace. Otherwise our fixed point is no longer fixed. If the value of my baptism is tied to the strength of my faith at any given moment, it will move around. But it does not. Baptism is a fact. If you have been baptized, then you are baptized. You faith might be strong. You might be a truly joyful Christian. I hope so. Or your faith might be weak or confused. You might wrestle against temptation and fall again and again. You might be overcome by pain because of things that have happened to you. No matter your condition, however, you have been baptized. God has taken the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ and told you personally, “These things are not just true in some general way. They are true for you. They are true of you. You belong to me. I created you. I redeemed you. I called you by name. I am your God. I tell you who you are. No one else can. The decisive word about who you are, your worth, and all that, belongs to me—and me alone. Nothing can change that. You cannot change it. Circumstance cannot change it. Other people cannot change it. You are my own dear child.”

This is what baptism means. Your baptism is a fixed point in your life. Your faith, imperfect though it is, is evidence that God has his hand on your life.

On last thing … “Well,” you may be thinking, “that’s all very nice, except I haven’t been baptized.” To which I answer, “That is your fault, not God’s.” In the Great Commission, Christ authorized his church to baptize you. If you desire to come to him, the water of baptism is open to you. Consider me Samuel, and the baptismal font in our sanctuary is my horn of oil. God looks at you and says, “This is the one!” … Now tell me, young David, do you believe God’s word? Do you hear his call? Will you receive the destiny he gives you?

You are not the king of Israel. You are not the Savior of the world. But you are—or should be—a Christian. A child of God. A minister God uses to spread the Good News. Someone who helps others in his name. And your ultimate destiny is to be conformed to the image of Christ … and to share in his resurrection.

Once you know all this, you know who you are. And knowing who you are makes all the difference. Amen.

rev_mauldin@yahoo.com
September 9, 2007



back to sermons