Sheep, discontent with their shepherd, ought not demand a sheep dog. But this is precisely where the Israelites found themselves about 1000 BC. Though God had given them sufficient warning of the sticky-fingeredness of kings, Israel demanded to be like the other nations and have a couple of royal buns warming throne. God obliged.
This first king was Saul, a head taller than the rest, though one gets sort of frat boy, oafish demeanor sense from the text. Probably hadn’t heard “No” much in his life. Gaston, from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast comes to mind.
Shortly after Saul’s anointing, he has a couple of minor victories over Israel’s perennial Philistine foes, but pretty quickly makes some bone head moves and God’s like, “Ya done.” Though Saul still warmed the throne for quite some time, God has removed His Spirit from him, the mark of anointing, and Saul receives frequent visits from the foul air of an evil spirit.
Right on the heels of this rejection, God tells Samuel to go to Jesse’s estate and anoint one of his sons. He goes. Jesse lines up his six strapping lads but Samuel didn’t get that spiritual tickle that any of them were the one. Then David, the youngest, maybe nine or ten at the time, comes in from tending sheep. “Yep, thats the one,” says Samuel and anoints his on the spot.
The reader knows this anointing is for the throne of Israel, but this is not what David’s father or brothers thought. Not only in Saul’s eyes would it been an act of treason of Samuel’s part, David continues on as he is, seemingly oblivious to what would have been kind of a big deal.
Most likely this anointing served two purposes: one was a secret anointing setting him apart as future king, but the visible reason, and what his family presumed, was this indicated selection to be enrolled in Samuel’s school of the prophets in Ramah, five miles to the north of Jesse’s spread in Bethlehem.
In this school, the young men would be instructed in the Mosaic Law, worship of Yahweh, song writing, prophecy, instrumentation and battle tactics – kind of like a primordial Hogwarts. Men from this school show up all throughout the Old Testament, some good, some bad. And into this school, David was admitted and it was evidenced by his family by a public anointing.
Life went on; Saul soured. He was becoming agitated, peeved, and his buds were noticing. Someone recommended maybe some auditory therapy may help soothe his spirit, and sent for one of the students from the school of prophecy. Having scores of psalms written for all eternity preserved in the Bible, it can be assumed he was perhaps a bit of a savant when it came to writing, and put up some numbers that David Crowder has yet to scratch.
So one of Saul’s advisors says, “I know a handsome guy who plays a mean lyre. Let me make a few calls.” David shows up, Saul is impressed and takes David on full time. Whenever the evil spirit roiled him up, David would play a piece that would butter his soul. Saul loved him, couldn’t get enough of him, even made David his armor bearer.
During this time, presumably, was David’s giant killing career that really put his name on the map. In fact, he was quite the scrapper. People made their little ditty, “Saul has killed his thousands, and David has killed his tens of thousands,” stoking Saul’s envy. But its tough to off such a popular and devilishly handsome rogue like David, especially when he is your son-in-law. So Saul played the angle that David was eyeing the throne and planning a coup.
Tipped off by Jonathan, Saul’s son and David’s bff, David bails and heads back to Samuel’s school in Ramah to a place called Naioth – meaning “living places” – not a town, but the campus of the prophet school, and hides out.
Saul sends a group of thugs to Naioth to seize David and frog march him back up to face some questioning. But when this group arrives, they stumble in on a worship session of the students and themselves begin prophesying an worshipping Yahweh. Perhaps they had some fog machines and laser light which caught them up into all the feels, we don’t know.
Not to be deterred, Saul sends another group down, this time selecting some malcontents who kick puppies and hate sunshine, who will be impervious the emotional strumming of soft guitar. Same thing happens. The Spirit attaches marionette strings to these blokes and they start prophesying and breaking their necks to the beat.
Yet again, a third group is sent with the same result.
When you want something done, you got to do it yourself, thinks Saul, and heads down to Naioth himself. Upon the road, the Spirit comes upon him and he starts tapping his toe. Uh-oh, fight it, fight the rhythm! When he arrives at Naioth, he goes full monty, strips bare and prophesies before Samuel and the Lord, most likely set to the music of the prophets.
Spiritually forced nakedness was a motif of complete abandonment to a greater power. Saul was helpless to control himself; if he were in control, he would not have suffered the embarrassment by showing his bare ass to men. A full day and night he danced undignified. That is a seriously powerful worship set.
So, the gauntlet has been thrown, all you who write songs of worship, to write a song so divine that the congregants disrobe. You will then know you have arrived.
Thought Butter 