The Prince: Jonathan (9 page)

The night seemed darker to Jonathan. Even as dawn came, he felt no lifting in his spirit. The sun rose and moved slowly across the sky, and with it the echoing words of the soldiers in the woods:
“Your father made the army take a strict oath . . . anyone who eats food today will be cursed.”

Jonathan bowed his face to the ground.
Lord, I took no such oath. I knew nothing about it! Am I still bound by it? Do You refuse to speak to the king because I sinned? Let it not be so. Don’t let me again be the one to bring disaster upon the people!

When he rose, he sat back on his heels. He knew what he must do.

Abner intercepted him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I must speak with my father, the king.”

“And confess about the honey?”

“You know—”

“Yes! I know. I know everything that happens among my men. I have to know!” He pulled Jonathan aside. “No one has said anything to the king. Nor will they.”

“I’ve brought trouble upon him again.”

“He made a hasty vow, Jonathan. Should that vow cost the people their prince?”

Jonathan tried to step around him.

Abner blocked his way, eyes flashing. “Do you think the Lord would want the death of His champion?”

Jonathan went hot. “The Lord needs no champion!”

Abner caught hold of Jonathan’s arm, holding him back. “What glory would the Lord receive from your death?”

When Jonathan turned away, he saw his father watching from the entrance of his tent.

Eyes dark, Saul came outside and shouted orders. “Something’s wrong!” He looked at Abner. “I want all my army commanders to come here.”

The men gathered quickly and stood before him.

Saul looked at each of them. “We must find out what sin was committed today.”

Jonathan was afraid. Never had he seen such a look on his father’s face. The king’s eyes burned with suspicion.
Does my father now see me as his enemy?
He felt sick.

“Jonathan and I will stand over here, and all of you stand over there.”

Jonathan took his place at the king’s side. Would his father kill him?

“We want a king like the nations around us!”

Jonathan’s heart began to pound heavily. He had heard stories about the surrounding nations, how they executed their own sons to maintain their power. Some even sacrificed them on the city walls to please their gods. Sweat broke out on his face.
Will my father kill me, Lord? Not
my
father
.

“I vow by the name of the Lord who rescued Israel that the sinner will surely die, even if it is my own son Jonathan!”

Jonathan received his answer, but he could not believe it.
No. He cannot have changed so much.
He looked at Abner, then at the others. The men all stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes. Not a man spoke a word.

Frustrated, Saul summoned the entire army. “Someone will tell me!” When the men were gathered, the king prayed loudly. “O Lord, God of Israel, please show us who is guilty and who is innocent.”

Jonathan looked at his father. He didn’t know what to do. If he confessed now, would his father break his vow or keep it? Either way, Jonathan had put his father in an untenable position yet again. Fear shook him, for no good could come from this day!

The priest cast lots. Men and their units were found innocent.

Jonathan felt his father’s tension grow with each passing moment. Moisture beaded the king’s forehead. Jonathan could smell the rank sweat of fear.
He knows! He’s afraid it’s me! He doesn’t know what to do! He won’t kill me. He loves me. He can’t kill his own son.

Saul held out a trembling hand. “Now cast lots again and choose between me and Jonathan.”

Ahijah did so. He looked up, relieved. “It’s Jonathan, my lord.”

When his father turned, eyes blazing, Jonathan was shocked to see relief in his eyes, even as they welled with tears of fury. “Tell me what you have done!”

“I tasted a little honey,” Jonathan admitted. “It was only a little bit on the end of my stick. Does that deserve death?”

“Yes, Jonathan,” Saul said, “you must die! May God strike me and even kill me if you do not die for this.” Saul drew his sword.

Jonathan gaped, too shocked to move.

“No!” Officers moved quickly between king and prince. “Jonathan has won this great victory for Israel. Should he die?
Far from it!”

Men shouted from every side.

Abner spoke louder than the rest. “As surely as the Lord lives, not one hair on his head will be touched, for God helped him do a great deed today. You cannot do this, Saul!”

Jonathan cringed. He saw his father’s wrath evaporate. He looked this way and that. Finally, Saul slid his sword back into its scabbard. “My hand will not be raised against my own son.” He put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and dismissed the army.

As they walked away, Saul took his hand away and went inside the tent. Jonathan followed. He wanted to beg forgiveness. Abner and the advisors stood around him.

Saul faced them. “God has destroyed the wheat harvest, but other crops will soon be ready for harvest, and an army needs provisions.” He did not look at Jonathan. “We will not pursue the Philistines. We will withdraw to our own land. Tell your units to break camp. We leave within the hour.”

“Father—”

“Not now. We will talk later, on the way home.”

When the army was on the move, Jonathan walked beside his father. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry.” Saul’s tone was flat. He stared straight ahead. “Samuel is against me. Is my own son to be my enemy as well?”

Jonathan’s heart sank and tears welled. “Had I known of your vow, I never would have eaten the honey.”

Saul glanced at him and then looked ahead again. “Jonathan, you are either with me or you are against me. Which is it?”

Never had words hurt so much. “No one is more loyal to you than I.”

“It may seem so to you, but if you continue to act on your own as you did at Geba and now Micmash, you will split the nation. Is that what you want? To remove the crown from my head and have Samuel place it on your own?”

“No!” Jonathan stopped and turned to him.
“No!”

“Keep walking!”

Jonathan fell into step beside him. His father spoke again, without looking at him. “They all stood against me in order to protect you.”

Jonathan could not deny it. Men were easily swayed by an act of courage, but it was God—not he—who had brought the victory. “I only meant to rally the men.”

“And me?”

Had his actions brought shame upon his father? What could he say to make amends if that were so?

“Samuel said God has already chosen another to be king.” Saul looked at Jonathan, frowning. “Is it you?”

Crushed, Jonathan spoke, his voice choked with emotion. “Father, no! You are king of Israel. My hand will never be raised against you!”

Saul’s eyes cleared of suspicion. He put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and squeezed. “We must protect one another, my son. Like it or not, our lives are in peril. Not just our lives, but those of your brothers as well. If anyone takes the crown from us, Malkishua, Abinadab, Ishbosheth, and your sisters will be killed so that my line will be ended. Do you understand? It is the way of kings to destroy all their enemies, even the children that might grow up to come against them.”

He squeezed Jonathan’s shoulder again and released him. “Don’t trust anyone, Jonathan. We have enemies all around us. Enemies everywhere.”

It was true Israel was threatened from all sides. The Philistines were along the coast, Moab to the east, Ammon to the north, and the kings of Zobah to the south. It seemed the entire world wanted to destroy God’s people! And the fastest way to scatter an army was to kill the king.

But his father seemed to think there were enemies among their own people as well.

“We will unite the tribes, Father. We will teach them to trust in the Lord our God.”

Saul was looking ahead. “You will be at my right hand.” He kept walking. “We will build a dynasty.”

Jonathan glanced at him. Samuel had said—

Saul made a fist. “I will hold on to my power.” His arm jerked as he spoke to himself in a low, hard voice. “I will hold on to my power. I will.” He let his hand drop to his side and his chin went up. “I will!”

Samuel came to the king with a commandment from the Lord: Go out and destroy the Amalekites who had waylaid and murdered the defenseless Israelite stragglers who had come out of Egypt.

“Here is a chance for glory!” Saul slapped Jonathan on the back. “God will surely bless us!”

And they did have victory. But Jonathan worried, warning his father not to delay in obeying every instruction Samuel had given. “He said to destroy everything!”

“King Agag is your father’s trophy.” Abner raised his goblet to King Saul. “He is more use to us alive than dead. When all Israel sees him humbled, they will know the only man they need fear is King Saul!”

Jonathan looked between them. “Kill
every
Amalekite, Samuel said, and the animals as well.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder. “Celebrate, Jonathan. Stop worrying so much.”

“The Law says to love the Lord your God with all your heart—”

“—mind, soul, and strength.” Saul waved his hand. “Yes, I know the Law, too.”

Did he? He had never written the Law in his own hand, nor listened for long when Jonathan read it to him. “You have not completed—”

“Enough!” Saul slammed his goblet down. Men looked their way. Saul waved magnanimously. “Eat! Drink! Be merry!” He leaned toward Jonathan and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Take your gloom elsewhere.” When Jonathan started to rise, Saul grabbed his arm. “Look around you, Jonathan.” Wine splashed from his goblet as he swept his arm wide. “See how happy the men are. We must keep them happy!”

Jonathan saw the fear in his father’s eyes, but knew it was misplaced. “It is the Lord we must please, Father.
The Lord
.”

Saul released him and waved him away.

Jonathan went outside and sat staring out over the hills.

What would Samuel say when he came?

He covered his head, ashamed.

King Saul led the army to Carmel, taking with him the best of the Amalekites’ sheep and goats, cattle, fat calves and lambs. He ordered a monument erected in his own honor. Continuing the celebrations, he displayed the captive King Agag for all to see as he led the army back to Gilgal.

Samuel came to meet him there.

“May the Lord bless you!” Saul opened his arms wide. “I have carried out the Lord’s command.”

“Then what is all the bleating of sheep and goats and the lowing of cattle I hear?”

Jonathan cringed at the fierce anger in Samuel’s voice.

His father glanced at the officers and leaders. “Come! You need refreshment.” Saul led the way to his tent, leaving the others behind.

Samuel entered the king’s tent. Saul poured wine, but Samuel would not take it.

Flustered, Saul explained. “It’s true that the army spared the best of the sheep, goats, and cattle.” He looked at Jonathan. Eyes flickering, he turned back to Samuel and added quickly, “But they are going to sacrifice them to the Lord your God. We have destroyed everything else.”

“Stop!”
Samuel cried out. He bowed his head and raised his hands to cover his ears.

King Saul took a step back, his face ashen. “Leave us.”

Jonathan went willingly, fear knotting his stomach. He kept watch at the entrance of the king’s quarters. He could hear every word.

Samuel spoke. “Listen to what the Lord told me last night!”

“What did He tell you?”

“Although you may think little of yourself, are you not the leader of the tribes of Israel? The Lord has anointed you king of Israel. And the Lord sent you on a mission and told you, ‘Go and completely destroy the sinners, the Amalekites, until they are all dead.’ Why haven’t you obeyed the Lord? Why did you rush for the plunder and do what was evil in the Lord’s sight?”

Jonathan’s heart pounded faster with each word the prophet spoke.

“But I did obey the Lord!”

Don’t argue, Father. Confess!

“I carried out the mission He gave me.”

Father, don’t lie!

“I brought back King Agag, but I destroyed everyone else. Then my troops brought in the best of the sheep, goats, cattle, and plunder to sacrifice to the Lord your God in Gilgal.”

The heat of shame filled Jonathan’s face as he listened to his father’s lies and excuses.

Samuel raised his voice. “What is more pleasing to the Lord: your burnt offerings and sacrifices or your obedience to His voice? Listen! Obedience is better than sacrifice, and submission is better than offering the fat of rams. Rebellion is as sinful as witchcraft, and stubbornness as bad as worshiping idols. So because you have rejected the command of the Lord, He has rejected you as king.”

Saul cried out in fear, “All right! I admit it. Yes, I have sinned. I have disobeyed your instructions and the Lord’s command, for I was afraid of the people and did what they demanded. But now, please forgive my sin and come back with me so that I may worship the Lord.”

Jonathan held his head and paced, cold sweat beading. It wasn’t God his father feared, but men.
Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy
.

“I will not go back with you!” Samuel’s voice came closer to the opening of the tent. He was leaving. “Since you have rejected the Lord’s command, He has rejected you as king of Israel.”

Jonathan heard a struggle and the sound of tearing cloth, and his heart stopped. He opened the curtain and saw his father on his knees, clutching at the prophet’s torn robe, his face ashen, his eyes wild with fear.

Samuel stared down at him in anguish. “The Lord has torn the kingdom of Israel from you today and has given it to someone else—one who is better than you.” Samuel raised his head and closed his eyes. “And He who is the Glory of Israel will not lie, nor will He change His mind, for He is not human that He should change His mind!”

“I know I have sinned,” Saul moaned. “But please, at least honor me before the elders of my people and before Israel by coming back with me so that I may worship the Lord your God.”

Heart sinking, Jonathan took his hand from the curtain. His father was more afraid of the men who waited outside than he was of the Lord God who held a man’s life in the palm of His mighty hand.

Samuel came outside with Saul. If anyone noticed his torn robe, no one spoke of it. Saul pretended everything was all right. He talked, smiled, his gaze moving from one leader to another.

Jonathan’s body was taut. He waited.
God does not change His mind.

“Bring King Agag to me,” Samuel said.

Everyone looked at Saul. “Go!” the king said. “Do as he says.”

A few moments later, Jonathan saw the Amalekite king walking in front of the guards, head high. Clearly, he thought all the bitterness of death was behind him and he was safe in Saul’s care. He gave a nod to Saul and then lifted his head as he looked at Samuel. Was he waiting for an introduction?

Samuel drew the sword from King Saul’s scabbard. “As your sword has killed the sons of many mothers, now your mother will be childless.” He raised the sword high and brought it down before the Amalekite could move.

Agag’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his skull cleaved open.

Everyone talked at once. Saul grabbed his sword and jerked it free. He shouted for his officers to dismiss their divisions. They could go home. The Amalekites were no longer a threat. He called to Abner. “We are going home to Gibeah.”

Jonathan followed after Samuel. They walked together in silence for a long while, and then Samuel stopped and looked at him. “The Lord is grieved that He made Saul king over Israel.” He stood silent and erect.

Jonathan felt the rejection as acutely as though he were responsible for all of his father’s sins. His shoulders heaved. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Samuel stepped forward and grasped Jonathan’s arm. “The Lord is your salvation. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

“So be it.” Jonathan choked out the words.

Samuel’s hold loosened. “I’m going home to Ramah.” He walked away, bent in sorrow.

Though he didn’t know it then, it was the last time Jonathan would ever see his beloved mentor.

Jonathan saw his father change after that day. In the first of his strange bouts of rage, Saul held his head and ranted. “I will not listen! I will not!” Grabbing a goblet, he threw it against a wall. “Why should I listen to you?” He overturned a table.

Men watched from doorways, ducking back when the king turned in their direction. Jonathan, keeping watch outside his father’s chamber, sent them away. He didn’t want anyone to see the king like this. The whole of Israel would be in confusion—and easy prey to enemies—if word spread that Saul was mad.

“He says he’ll end my dynasty!” Saul’s eyes blazed wildly. He ripped his tunic, mumbling. Sweat dripped. Saliva bubbled. “Why should I listen to you when you hate me?” He tore the turban from his head. “Get away from me! Leave me alone!” He swung around. “Abner!”

Abner grabbed Jonathan’s arm, his eyes wide with fear. “We must do something for your father or all will be lost.”

“I don’t know what to do. Talking to him does no good.”

“Abner!”

“Speak with your mother,” Abner whispered, his voice urgent. “Sometimes a woman knows ways to soothe a man’s temper.” He turned and entered the king’s chamber. “Yes, my lord?”

“Have you sent someone to watch Samuel?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I want someone keeping an eye on him at all times. I want to know every move he makes . . .”

Jonathan went to his mother. She was in new quarters, away from the king, who had taken a concubine. A servant led him into the room and he saw his mother working at her loom. She glanced up with a smile that quickly turned to a frown. “Sit. Tell me what troubles you.”

He tried to find words. Looking at the multicolored sash she was making, he forced a smile.

She followed his gaze and ran her hand over her work. “A gift for your father.”

“He will wear it proudly.”

“Did he send you?”

“No.”

She folded her hands. “I’ve heard about his spells, though you and Abner and the rest try to keep it secret.”

Jonathan stood and went to the grated window. He didn’t want to imagine what could happen if word spread. His father was at his most vulnerable.

“Tell me what’s happening, Jonathan. I have been shut away here with my servants.”

“Some men say Father is possessed of an evil spirit.” He thought it more likely Saul’s guilt racked his mind. “But I think it’s something else.”

“What?”

“Sometimes, when I hear what he’s mumbling, I wonder if God isn’t trying to speak to him, and he’s hardening his heart and mind against Him.” He turned. “I don’t know what to do, Mother.”

His mother sat with her head down. Then she rose and came to stand beside him at the window. She looked out for a moment and then faced him. “Your father has always loved the sound of a harp. Perhaps if you found someone to play for him when he suffers these spells—” she put her hand gently on his arm—“he might be soothed.”

Jonathan mentioned his mother’s suggestion to his father’s servants, who in turn presented the idea to the king. “All right,” Saul said. “Find me someone who plays well, and bring him here.”

One of the king’s servants sent by the tribe of Judah spoke up. “One of Jesse’s sons from Bethlehem is a talented harp player. Not only that—he is a brave warrior, a man of war, and has good judgment. He is also a fine-looking young man, and the Lord is with him.”