Charles Ellicott Commentary 1 Samuel 25:29

Charles Ellicott Commentary

1 Samuel 25:29

1819–1905
Anglican
Charles Ellicott
Charles Ellicott

Charles Ellicott Commentary

1 Samuel 25:29

1819–1905
Anglican
SCRIPTURE

"And though men be risen up to pursue thee, and to seek thy soul, yet the soul of my lord shall be bound in the bundle of life with Jehovah thy God; and the souls of thine enemies, them shall he sling out, as from the hollow of a sling." — 1 Samuel 25:29 (ASV)

A man is risen. —She refers here, of course, to Saul, but with exquisite courtesy and true loyalty refrains from mentioning in connection with evil the name of her king, the “Anointed of Jehovah.”

Shall be bound in the bundle of life. —This is one of the earliest and most definite expressions of a sure belief in an eternal future in the presence of God, and Hebrew tradition from the very earliest times to this day has so regarded it. It is now a favorite and common inscription on Jewish gravestones. Keil beautifully paraphrases the words of the original. “The words,” he writes, “do not refer primarily to eternal life with God in heaven, but only to the safe preservation of the righteous on this earth in the grace and fellowship of the Lord. But whoever is so hidden in the gracious fellowship of the Lord in this life, that no enemy can harm him or injure his life, the Lord will not allow him to perish, even though temporal death should come, but will then receive him into eternal life”—Keil.

The image, as so often in Eastern teaching, is taken from common everyday life—from the habit, as Dean Payne Smith remarks, of packing up in a bundle articles of great value or of indispensable use, so that the owner may carry them about his person. In India the phrase is common. Thus, a just judge is said to be bound up in the bundle of righteousness; a lover in the bundle of love. Among the striking references in the Babylonian Talmud to this loved and cherished saying of the wife of Nabal, we find how, in one of the Treatises of Seder Moed, “Rabbi Ezra says, ‘The souls of the righteous are hidden beneath God’s glorious throne: as it is said, The soul of my lord shall be bound in the bundle of life with the Lord thy God.’”—Treatise Shabbath, fol. 152,Colossians 2:0.

What student of this verse of the Book of Samuel, and the beautiful Talmud comments on the far-reaching words, can fail to see in them the original of St. John’s well-known picture of the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held (Revelation 6:9)—these souls of the righteous hidden beneath the glorious throne of God.

The thought is embodied in the following extract: “The angel of death came and stood before Moses. ‘Give me your soul,’ he said; but Moses rebuked him, and said, ‘You have no permission to come where he (Moses) was’; and he departed crestfallen. Then the Holy One—blessed be He!—took the soul of Moses, and hid it under His throne of glory: as it is said (1 Samuel 25:29), And the soul of my lord shall be bound in the bundle of life. But when He took it, He took it by means of a kiss.”—Avoth. of Rabbi Nathan, 1 Samuel 12:0.

In the Seder Moed, again, in the same Treatise Shabbath, there is a remarkable parable, founded on this saying of Abigail: a parable that reminds us of the framework of one of the well-known pictures of the Redeemer. A king once distributed royal robes among his servants; those that were wise folded them up and put them away in a coffer, and those that were foolish wore them on their working days. When the king demanded back his robes, those given to the wise were returned free from stains, while those of the foolish were soiled. The king, pleased with the wise servants, ordered their robes to be deposited in his treasury, and then ordered them to depart in peace.

But he manifested his displeasure at the foolish servants; he sent their robes to be washed, and dispatched them to prison. So the bodies of the righteous enter into peace, and rest in their beds (Isaiah 57:2), and their souls are bound up in the bundle of life; but with reference to the bodies of the foolish there is no peace, saith the Lord, and the wicked (Isaiah 57:21) and their souls (quoting the next paragraph of this chapter of Samuel) are slung out, as out of the middle of a sling (1 Samuel 25:29).—Treatise Shabbath, fol. 152,Colossians 2:0.

And the souls of thine enemies, them shall he sling out, as out of the middle of a sling. —The simile was one Abigail had in all probability heard from one or another of the prophets or their pupils. It was not unlikely originally suggested by the ever-memorable encounter between David and Goliath: as in the case of the souls of the righteous, in the passage just discussed, the reference initially was to the fate of the enemies of God in this life; but Hebrew theologians in all times have understood it in a deeper and more solemn sense, as a reference to the doom after death reserved for all the unrighteous. (See, for instance, above in the passage quoted from the Talmud, Treatise Shabbath.)

In the same most ancient writing—which, most probably, contains the teaching of the great Jewish schools before the Christian era—we read: “The souls of the wicked are incessantly thrown by angels, as with a sling, from one end of the world to the other, as it is said: The souls of thine enemies, them shall he sling out, as out of the middle of a sling; and what, asks Ravah of Rav. Nachman (this is a later comment), is the lot of those who are neither righteous nor wicked? They, as well as the wicked, are handed over to ‘Dumah’—silence ()—an angel who has charge of disembodied spirits. The former, those neither righteous nor wicked, have rest; the latter, the wicked, have none.”—Treatise Shabbath, fol. 152,Colossians 2:0.

The strange, wild statement, as it seems to us, is no doubt a cryptograph, and the great rabbis of old days in their famous schools would now and again unroll its meaning. With that, for the present, we need not concern ourselves.

But the bare text, as we copy it from the Talmud, conveys to us an important fact: men and women in the Canaan of Samuel and Saul believed in the glories of eternal life with God. These people lived remotely, it would seem, far from any famous center of civilization, amidst shepherds and herdsmen on the lone sheep farms of Judah and Benjamin. Yet, they looked forward to a future state of rewards and punishments, rather than limiting their hopes and fears to merely sitting in quiet peace under the vine and fig tree of their own beloved land of promise.

The knowledge of a future state of existence was always the blessed heritage of the chosen race—but the spread of that knowledge and the reawakening of that belief we ascribe to the beneficial influence of one man.

The Divine record, if we read between its lines, and the mighty wealth of Hebrew tradition, if we take sufficient pains to make it our own, tell us one story.

They tell of Samuel, whom the God of Israel loved when he was a child. During Samuel's long and blameless life, God used to speak with him face to face—now by a vision, now by the echo of a voice.

They tell us how Samuel was the founder of those great Prophetic Schools where the lamp of the knowledge of God was relit and then kept burning with a steady flame through his time and for centuries after: the one bright light during the long, sad record of Israel.

Hero-kings like David, prophets like Gad and Nathan, the great psalm writers and musicians of the Temple of Solomon, were the more prominent results of the peculiar teaching and spirit of these “schools;” but their noblest work, after all, was the high and beneficial influence they exercised over the people of the land—an influence exemplified in characters such as Abigail, wife of the sheep-master of Carmel, a page of whose life story we have just been considering.