David: Anointed

In January and February I taught a 7-week class on the life of David. As I prepared each week I found myself deeply engrossed. I got a whole new perspective that I’d like to share. This is the first in a series of occasional blog posts–pretty long ones–that take up facets of David’s life and consider how they prefigure the Son of David, Jesus.

David was anointed. Before the Bible tells us anything about his character or his personality, before we see him in action and grasp his capacity for leadership, we hear that Samuel, at God’s instruction, anointed him. It’s a tale that’s often recounted in sermons and Sunday school lessons, because it offers high drama and a great punch line. What is usually missed is what happened after the anointing—or, more precisely, what didn’t happen.

Here is the story: God tells Samuel, the judge and leader of Israel, to stop grieving over Saul, the king whom God has rejected. God sends Samuel to Bethlehem, to Jesse and his eight sons. Samuel is afraid to go, and the elders who meet him in the city are frightened when he arrives. Their fear of arousing Saul’s jealousy is strong, and why not? Samuel is engaged in an act of treason. He is about to choose a new king while the old one is still strong and full of life. Nowhere and never is that a good way to maintain your health.

Samuel pretends he’s just there for a religious service, but Jesse brings his sons, one by one, in front of Samuel. One by one, they are rejected. These are not the ones God wants. David isn’t even present. He’s the youngest, out herding sheep. To his family, he’s insignificant. At Samuel’s insistence they bring him in, and God tells Samuel to anoint him.

What do we know about David at this point? What does Samuel know? Not much. David is young. He’s healthy and good looking. His father doesn’t think much of him. It’s not a great resume for becoming king.

Anointing is done with oil. It has to do with dedicating something to a particular purpose, much in the way that we might dedicate a room as a quiet place for reading, or dedicate a phone line for international calls. In the Pentateuch anointing always has to do with worship. The priests are anointed, and so are their clothes, and the altar in the tabernacle, and the bowls used in the tabernacle, as well as the other utensils, and the tabernacle itself. It is a symbolic way to announce, “These are special. These are set aside for something supremely important.”

Beginning in 1 Samuel, anointing applies to the king. After being anointed, David becomes supremely important, not an ordinary person. He is dedicated to extraordinary work.

The deep background is God’s disappointment with Israel’s leadership. Samuel had anointed King Saul, and Saul disappointed. Before Saul, there were leadership disappointments with Eli and his sons as well, and with Samuel’s sons. Leadership mattered because the nation was in deep trouble. Israel lived in a rough neighborhood, much as it does today. The Philistines, a more technologically advanced people, had invaded. Israel might be overrun by the Philistine army and obliterated—erased as a distinctive people. This is not paranoia. We know with hindsight that it happened to every single kingdom in the region. Ever meet a Gittite? An Ammonite?

The text is at pains to point out that Samuel had no input in choosing David. God overturned his initial idea that Eliab, the oldest son, was the right choice; and then, as one son after another was paraded before him, God rejected each one. We are told that “the Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) That is the great punchline in all the sermons and Sunday school lessons. We see the outside—the good looks, the charisma, the skills. God sees what is inside, and that is what he cares about. For anybody who ever lacked confidence, who lacked irresistible charm and effortless ability, this is great news. What matters is what is in your heart! A million inspirational self-help messages have been made from this.

This isn’t quite right. The Scriptural message isn’t actually meant to encourage people to try harder and believe more. The message is that God’s ways are inscrutable. We can’t see inside people, but he can. His judgments are beyond our skill set. This is God’s initiative. He does it through Samuel but without his help. God sees all and decides all.

I am very often reminded of this when I volunteer at the Redwood Gospel Mission’s drug and alcohol rehabilitation program. I am assigned to meet one-on-one with men who have entered the 10-month residential program. I love the job, partly because of pure fascination—these men have lived lives that are very different from mine. Also, as I get to know these men, I find I almost always enjoy them. We meet weekly over the course of months, and we get to know each other quite well.

However, I can’t tell you who will be able to stay clean and sober. Sometimes I get a pretty good idea who won’t. If they aren’t fully engaged with the program, if they have big doubts, they probably won’t succeed in it. However, those who seem to have no doubts also often fail. Kicking an addiction is extremely difficult. I can’t see inside them to know who has the character and will to change. I just do my part to help, and wait to see what time will reveal.

God knows exactly who has the stuff to begin a new life. He sees into each person’s heart. He saw into David’s and observed something the other brothers lacked—qualities to make a great king. Thus David was anointed—set apart to lead Israel.

**

At this point, the story of David’s anointing turns strange. The brothers and the father were present with Samuel at the anointing, but no announcement was made to the general public. No one made any attempt to publicize God’s choice. You might chalk this up to caution, since Saul would take violent exception to being replaced. Surely, though, if David is going to be king, sooner or later an announcement must be made. It never happens. For years to come David will serve as Saul’s personal musician, his army captain, his bete noire, his son-in-law, his son’s best friend. Rumors may suggest that David is God’s choice to be king, but never does David or anybody else blow a trumpet to announce what God has done.

The anointing appears powerless. It effects no change, not even within the family. When the Philistine giant Goliath is taunting Israel’s army, and David inquires what reward will go to someone who defeats him, his brother Eliab (the first one rejected) is fiercely critical: “He burned with anger at [David] and asked, “Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the wilderness? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is; you came down only to watch the battle.” (1 Samuel 17:28) Eliab shows no hint of respect for the brother he saw anointed by Samuel. He still sees him as the little sheepherder, with stuck-up ideas about himself.

In the years to come Saul makes David’s life misery. He is threatened, attacked, and forced to run for his life. He lives in the wilderness with a collection of misfits and renegades. David sends his parents into exile out of fear that they, too, will suffer on his behalf. (1 Samuel 22:3)

David makes no attempt whatsoever to change this state of affairs. Twice when Saul falls into his hands he refuses to take action. He could have killed Saul, but he won’t do it. He never refers to himself as the Lord’s anointed. He refers that way to Saul, repeatedly.

Thus we have one of the strangest interludes in the Bible, when God’s chosen king of Israel is on the run from God’s rejected king, and the chosen king does nothing to assert his dignity or his right. He merely tries to stay alive.

David introduces a way of life unique in the Old Testament, and with precious few parallels anywhere: “anointed, but not crowned.”

How long did this powerless interlude go? We can only guess how old David was when he was anointed. Sixteen? Twenty-one? Young enough to be dismissed as insignificant. We know that David was thirty when he was finally crowned king of Judah, and 37 when he was crowned over all Israel. Perhaps he lived “anointed but not crowned” for eight to ten years. Much of David’s reputation was built in this time, when he had nothing, lived on the run, gathered a rag-tag following, and waited.

In the United States, there’s a period between the election and the inauguration called the transition. These months are filled with preparation: possible appointees are interviewed, strategies are rehearsed. For David, the “transition” went on for years, not months, but David made no preparations to take charge.

**

In the New Testament you encounter a parallel: Jesus. It’s not an exact parallel. It’s an echo.

Jesus’ “anointing” came at his baptism. There God declared him “my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Instead of oil poured on the head, Jesus received the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. The words do not seem to have been understood by the crowds, nor was the dove seen by many. As with David’s anointing, this was a dramatic event observed by only a few.

It came entirely at God’s initiative. John baptized with water, but God spoke and sent his Spirit. This came despite the fact that Jesus had effectively done nothing to qualify. In all four gospels, John’s baptism came at the very beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, before he began preaching and healing. “People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

For readers of the Old Testament, the words God uses to identify Jesus at his baptism are loaded with significance. God tells Moses, “Say to Pharaoh, ‘This is what the Lord says: Israel is my firstborn son.’” (Exodus 4:22) In the dramatic Psalm 2, God declares the king, the “anointed one,” as “my son.” (2:7) Simply put, these three things go together: the king, God’s son, the representative of the people of God.

When God calls Jesus “my beloved son” he is identifying him as the Messiah, the king who represents all God’s people.

And yet, as with David’s anointing, there is no follow through. There are no trumpets and no public declaration. There are no plans for the coronation. Jesus is unimpressive to his own family, who come to rein him in because they think he is out of his mind—a scene reminiscent of David’s dressing down by his brother.

Like David, Jesus has impressive enemies. The Pharisees and other religious leaders plot to kill him. Jesus keeps out of harm’s way (until the very end) but he doesn’t rally his own supporters to undermine his enemies. He’s critical of the Pharisees but makes no attempt to replace them in their leadership roles. Nor does he rally opposition to Herod or Pilate or any representative of the Roman empire.

When his home town tries to assassinate him, Jesus just slips away. That’s his strategy for overcoming his enemies: he avoids them.

The only time Jesus acts aggressively is when he charges into the temple with a whip. N.T. Wright is surely correct in asserting that this is a protest, not an insurrection. Jesus upsets business for a single day. What do you think happened to those sales booths the next day? I’m sure they were back at it. Jesus is making a point, but he’s not trying to take over the running of the temple.

Jesus is the true king, but he doesn’t act like it. He doesn’t fight. He doesn’t rule. His only regular activities, really, are proclaiming the truth—preaching—and healing the sick and disabled.

The demons recognized Jesus as the Son of God, and beggars called him the son of David. Yet the crowds that swarmed after Jesus and hung on his words were slow to see him as “the anointed.” When asked about the people’s thoughts, the disciples reported that people considered Jesus a reincarnation of John the Baptist, or one of the prophets. It was a breakthrough moment when Peter said, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.”

His anointing remained a doubtful matter up to the moment of Jesus’ death. “Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘…Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!’  In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, “I am the Son of God.”’” (Matthew 27:39-43)

Jesus has never been crowned on earth. He has been crowned in heaven. Thus we say, in the apostles’ creed, “He ascended into heaven, where he sits at the right hand of the father.”

Paul wrote, in regard to Jesus’ willing self-sacrifice on the cross,

“Therefore God exalted him to the highest place

and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:9-11)

“God exalted him to the highest place” is in the past tense, but “every knee should bow” is prospective. It has not yet occurred. That is why we continue to pray, “your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” It is God’s will (and should be ours) that everyone on earth acknowledge the anointed, and bow before him as king. That is how it is in heaven. But on earth, “the anointed” accepts being treated like a criminal, just as David was. He does not use kingly power to correct the situation. He does not destroy his enemies or announce his coronation.

**

David spent miserable years “anointed but not crowned”—a fugitive, without a home, alienated from his own country. What a life for the man anointed to be king! Even so, there is undeniable excitement in his life. It is a thrilling period, full of danger and hope. (The contrast with David’s utter wretchedness during his son Absalom’s rebellion is striking.)

Jesus life as “anointed but not crowned” was also trying. He had no home of his own, his own family and his own home town failed to respect him, he was constantly opposed by the most honored people in society. Jesus cried out in frustration, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” (Luke 13:34)

Despite the constant tension of Jesus’ life, it is a thrilling, engrossing story. We would not trade it for anything. Only it needs a resurrection.

We, too—like David, like Jesus–spend our lives “anointed but not crowned.” This is what people mean when they talk about the kingdom of God as “already not yet.” As Peter put it to the first generation of believers, “you are a chosen people.” Yet who can claim that Christians are masters of the universe? We struggle. We often feel homeless and out of place. We experience the pain of being mocked and opposed—and even more commonly we feel ignored and discounted. But we are God’s chosen!

Christians who are “not crowned” can become paranoid, exaggerating our persecution. (Of course, some Christians are persecuted. But in my observing, many more feel persecuted.) The normal response is to become aggressive—to take out after our enemies. We may call it standing our ground, but it easily fills up with verbal put-downs and hostile behavior. It turns from defending the truth to attack mode.

In his “anointed but not crowned” period David refused to take on his own vindication. He didn’t boast that he was God’s choice. (He never even mentioned it.) He respected the king, even while knowing that God had rejected him. He tried to stay out of conflict. When he had the king in his sights, he refused to pull the trigger. He trusted God to crown him, in his own time and his own way.

Similarly Jesus. He knew (and said) the leadership of Israel was rotten. They conspired against him, but he didn’t respond in kind. He did not campaign for Messiah; on the contrary, he usually told people to keep quiet about what he had done for them. Even when tried on phony evidence, tortured, mocked and executed, his mind was not on the unfairness, but on forgiveness. He trusted God to deliver his crown. He never took it in his own hands.

We will be crowned. That is the absolute, unhesitating promise of scripture.

“Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:8)

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12)

“And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.” (1 Peter 5:4)

“Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer.… Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor’s crown.” (Revelation 2:10)

We live as Jesus lived: anointed, not crowned. Our coronation is up to God, not us. He raised Jesus from the dead and crowned him with eternal life. As Jesus told John, “Do not be afraid…. I am the Living One; I was dead, and behold I am alive forever.” (Revelation 1:17-18) When the Living One comes, bringing heaven to earth, then we will be crowned with life.