My Sacrifice

In 2 Samuel 24, David is going to make a sacrifice to prevent God's judgment on the people for his sin in taking the census. A lot of people have already died in the plague, and God agrees to relent as long as David builds an altar and makes a sacrifice on a specific location. One problem: David doesn't own the land. So David's all like: "okay, Auranah, I'll buy your land and some livestock so I can burn them." And Auranah says: "here, just take this stuff, I'm all for you sacrificing to stop this terrible plague." And David shares his best piece of wisdom yet: "I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing”(2 Sam 24:24, NIV).



This gets us into an interesting point about sacrifices; in order for them to mean something, our sacrifice has to be ours. It reminds me of the story (yes, I've been in church a bit, and I've picked up some of the common illustrations, and this one holds weight) about this little boy who gets two dollars from his grandma every week before he goes to church. One is for the offering (50% TITHE!!!) and the other is for ice cream after worship. Well, one week, he's walking to church, and he drops one of his dollars, and it goes into the sewer. Naturally, the boy begins to pray: "dear God, so sorry I dropped your dollar."



Telling, isn't it? When calamity strikes and we find ourselves in financial straits, the money we've lost tends to come out of our tithe before it comes out of our personal expenses. Furthermore, the boy's gift was always a sacrifice that cost him nothing. And when his ability to meet his desires was threatened, his gift was oh-so-quick to go. I'm not against giving kids money to put into the plate on Sundays (they can be super funny to watch and it teaches about giving), I'm just saying maybe we should spend a little more time teaching about the value of sacrificial giving, and trying to make that gift mean something.



And maybe we should learn that lesson as well. Our giving should be sacrificial, and it should be representative of our willingness to do without if we're forced to make a choice. And this is one of the few occaisions where I'm going to encourage my readers to be like David. So that's a bonus.

The Loss of a Forgotten Lover

I bring our attention now to a character mentioned only twice in the Samuel narrative: Paltiel the Son of Laish. Paltiel married Michal (1 Sam 25:44) after David left her when he escaped (1 Sam 19) from Saul's wrath after his wedding to Michal. David's subsequent relations (or lack thereof) toward his wife demonstrate that theirs was, unsurprisingly, a loveless marriage; though early on in the story Michal shows deep affection for David. But when David sends for his wife (apparently to shore up his claim to the throne- he wasn't exactly lacking for wives at that moment) we see Paltiel, in misery, following his wife weeping all the way to Bahurim (2 Sam 3:15-16). In this moment, we feel for a secondary character, and we hate David. In this moment, we see that love was alive and well in Biblical Israel, and that it did not always conquer all. We mourn for and with Paltiel, even as most of his story remains untold. And without a careful reading of the text, he remains largely forgotten and unknown.
An interesting play on his name also happens in the story. When Paltiel is introduced, he as called Phalti, which according to Young's Analytical Concordance means "Jah causes to escape." This conjures up the memory that the only reason Paltiel is marrying Michal is because David escaped from Saul's assassination attempt six chapters earlier.
But in the second story, he has the name Paltiel, meaning "Jahweh delivers." This can be seen as him delivering Michal back to David, or a reminder of David's original deliverance that led to this character. But I can imagine that the character may have prayed for God's deliverance all this time. He followed his beloved wife, weeping, to a husband who despised her. This was a situation beyond his control. He could only pray for deliverance. And David took Michal, and despised her. And Paltiel was left to return home. Alone.

What really grinds my gears.

One of the things that really bothers be about 1 Samuel is that the Israelites once again show how short their memory is. Typically, this loss of memory is attributed to a generation coming along who haven't experienced God's providence in this way or that way. But in 1 Samuel 8, the people want a king. Why?

1. To be like other nations; okay, fair enough.
2. They really really wanted one, man.
3. Samuel's sons were pretty wicked.

This third reason sounds like a really good reason, until we consider that there was little or no precedent for a Judge's kids getting power after the Judge dies. Gideon resisted being made king, and his son tried to get some of his power handed down, but c'mon, we all know how that turned out (see Judges 9). And more recently, Eli's sons had been awful, and that's what led to Samuel's rise.

The lesson here is a pretty simple one: we need to remember what God has done for us, or we'll ask for things we really don't need as protection. If the Israelites had remembered that God has protected them from the sons of Eli, maybe they would have counted on God to choose the next Judge over them as well.