“The envious man,” wrote Horace (65 BC–8 BC), “grows lean on the success of his neighbor.”
The first 16 verses of 1 Samuel 18 seem to be a rerun. How many times did Saul seek to kill David? I’ve lost count. This incident follows the signal victory of Israel over the Philistines, attributed to one man and his God. Saul insists David move to the palace, and here is his job evaluation shortly after: “David went out wherever Saul sent him, and behaved wisely. And Saul set him over the men of war, and he was accepted in the sight of all the people and also in the sight of Saul’s servants” (v 5). Not bad for a shepherd boy! Now it has been common throughout military history for those marked by valor to have pinned on their chest some ribbon or medal that betokens the gratitude of a nation. The highest honors are usually affixed by the leader of the country. So as Saul sat contemplating the young champion playing some soothing tune on his harp, he suddenly knew what he should do: “I will pin David to the wall!” he said (v 11), and hurled his spear at him. But his weapon was as poorly handled as his thought process, and David escaped again. It would not be wrong to assume that Israel’s next king was immortal till his work was done. I recall my father telling me a story from the days of WWII. The highest honor in the British Empire was the Victoria Cross, affixed by King George VI. As Easter approached, a national newspaper held a contest to give a four-word caption to a drawing of Christ’s crucifixion. The winning entry read, “King Pinned On Cross.” It was also for envy that our Lord was lifted up on a cross instead of a throne (Mk 15:10). Ironically, we’re told twice that “Saul was afraid of David” (1 Sam 18:12, 15), not the other way around. And anyone who defies the will of God ought to be afraid.