Life and Times of David
THE VALLEY OF ELAH

As soon as the Lord’s anointing oil was poured on David, he was called to stand before King Saul, now forsaken of God, and troubled with an evil spirit. This unhappy man needed the soothing notes of David’s harp to dispel the horrid influence of that spirit which now haunted him from day to day. Saul was a sad monument of the results of a self-seeking course.

However, David did not hesitate to take his place as a servant, even in the house of one who would later prove a bitter enemy. David was not concerned about where he served or what he did; he would protect his father’s flocks from lions and bears, or dispel an evil spirit from Saul. In fact, from the moment David’s history opens, he is seen as a servant, ready for every kind of work. The valley of Elah furnishes a striking manifestation of his servant character.

It appears that Saul had little idea of who stood before him; whose music refreshed his troubled spirit – that in his presence was the future king of Israel. “He loved him greatly; and he became his armor-bearer.” The selfish Saul gladly used the services of David, and was ready to shed David’s blood when he understood who and what he was.

But let us turn our thoughts to the interesting scenes in the valley of Elah. “Now the Philistines gathered together their armies to battle.” We now come to something calculated to bring out the true character and worth of Saul and David – one a man of form, the other a man of power. Trials expose a person’s real character. Saul had proven himself, for “all the people had followed him trembling” – he wasn’t likely to be a soul- stirring leader on this occasion. A man forsaken of God, plagued by an evil spirit, was little adapted to lead an army to battle, or to single-handedly meet the powerful giant of Gath.

The struggle in the valley of Elah was a peculiar challenge by Goliath – not army against army, but one on one. To decide the matter by single combat was a method that signalized an individual. The ordinary method was army against army, but this was a question of who would venture out against a terrific uncircumcised foe. In fact, it is plain that God was about to manifest to Israel once again that, as a people, they were utterly powerless; the army of Jehovah their only deliverance. God was now ready to act in His wondrous character of “a man of war.”

For forty days the Philistine draws near, presenting himself in view of unhappy Saul and his awe-struck army. Observe his bitter taunting, “Am not I a Philistine, and ye servants to Saul?” It’s sad, but true; they had come down from their high elevation as servants of Jehovah to become mere servants of Saul. Samuel had forewarned them of all this, telling them that they would become footmen, bakers, cooks, and confectioners to Saul, their self-chosen master. It was this choice to eliminate the Lord God of Israel as their sole master and King. Bitter experience is man’s best teacher; and the taunting of Goliath no doubt taught Israel the real nature of their condition under the crushing rule of the Philistines. “Choose you a man for you, and let him come down to me,” said the giant. Little did he know who was about to be his antagonist. In all his boasted strength, he vainly imagined that no Israelite could stand against him.

Where was Jonathan during all this? He had acted in simple faith and energy in 1 Samuel 14, so, why didn’t he go up against this champion? Perhaps his faith was not that simple, independent character that carried a man through all kinds of difficulties. The defect in his faith appears in the words, “if they say thus,” etc. Faith never says “if”; it follows only God. When Jonathan said “There is no restraint to the Lord,” he uttered a principle of truth – one which should have led him on without an “if.” Had Jonathan’s soul been focused simply in the ability of God, he would not have sought for a sign. True, the Lord graciously gave him the sign, just as He had given one earlier to Gideon, because God provides His servants with all their needs. However, Jonathan does not make an appearance in the valley of Elah. It seems he had done his work, acting according to his measure. But the scene now before us demanded something far deeper than anything Jonathan had known.

The Lord was secretly preparing an instrument for this new and more difficult work. Our blessed Father works in mysterious ways. In secret He trains those whom He is about to use in public. He makes His servants acquainted with Himself in the secret solemnity of His sanctuary, causing His greatness to pass in review before them, so they will be able to look with a steady gaze at the difficulties in their path.

Thus it was with David. He was alone with God while keeping the sheep in the wilderness; his soul became filled with thoughts of God’s power; and now, in all the simplicity and self-renouncing dignity of a man of faith, he makes his appearance in the valley of Elah. The emptiness of man was proven by forty days of Goliath’s haughty boasting. Saul could avail nothing; Jesse’s three eldest sons could avail nothing; not even Jonathan could avail. All seemed lost, when young David entered the scene, clothed in the strength of Him who was about to lay the pomp and glory of the proud Philistine in the dust.

When the words of Goliath were reported to David, he at once recognized a blasphemous defiance of the living God. “Who,” he said, “is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?” David’s faith recognized the army of the living God in the trembling host before, at once making it a question between Jehovah and the Philistine.

This is very instructive: because no change of circumstances can ever rob the people of God of their dignity when viewed through the eye of faith. They may be brought low in the view of man, as in Israel’s case on the present occasion, but faith always recognizes what God has imparted. So, when David beheld his brethren fainting in view of their enemy, he acknowledged that because the living God had identified Himself with them, they would not be defied by an uncircumcised Philistine.

When faith is in exercised, it brings the soul into direct connection with the grace and faithfulness of God and His purposes. True, Israel had, by unfaithfulness, brought all this sorrow and humiliation upon themselves. It was not the Lord’s desire that they should be fearful in the presence of an enemy – it was the fruit of their own doing. Still, the question is, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine?”

This is the inquiry of faith. It was not the army of Saul that the man of faith beheld. No; it was the army of the living God – an army under the command of the same Captain that had led His hosts through the Red Sea, through the terrible wilderness, and through Jordan. Nothing less, nothing lower than this, could satisfy faith.

However, the judgment and actions of faith are little understood or valued when things get low among the people of God. This is apparent throughout Israel’s history, and, sadly, throughout the Church’s history, too. The path of simple, childlike faith is far removed from human sight; and if the Lord’s people sink into a low, carnal state, they can never understand the principle of power in the soul of one who acts by faith. He will be misunderstood, and have wrong motives attributed to him; he will be accused of setting himself up, or acting willfully, independently. All these things should be expected by one who stands in the breach, especially when things are low. When the majority lacks faith, a faithful man who acts for God is left alone, will be misunderstood.

This was David’s situation. Not only was he left alone in a time of difficulty, but he endured the taunting administered by his older brother. “And Eliab his eldest brother heard when he spake unto the men; and Eliab’s anger was kindled against David, and he said, Why camest thou down hither? and with whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know thy pride, and the naughtiness of thy heart; for thou art come down that thou mightest see the battle.” (1 Sam. 17:28)

Such was Eliab’s judgment of David. “And David said, What have I now done? Is there not a cause?”

Careful about defending his course to a haughty brother, David, by an energy unknown to Eliab, continued to move forward. Why didn’t Eliab act in defense of Israel? Why didn’t Abinadab or Shammah? The simple answer is because they were faithless. Not only were these three men powerless, but Israel remained terror-stricken in the presence of the enemy. Now, when one of faith appeared, not one understood him.

“And David said to Saul, Let no man’s heart fail because of him; thy servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” Precious faith. No difficulty deters it – nothing stands in its way. What was the Philistine to David? Nothing. Tremendous height and formidable armor were mere circumstances. Faith never looks at circumstances, but straight to God. Because David’s soul was buoyed up by faith, he could utter the words, “Thy servant will go.” To Saul, the one who should have been the first to face Israel’s dreadful enemy, David said, “Thou art not able to go against this Philistine.” What language to the king of Israel. What a contrast between a man of office and a man of power.

Saul should have defended the flock entrusted to his care; but, he cared not for Israel, except so far as Israel was connected with him. But, exposing himself on their behalf? Never. We can safely assume that because of his selfish heart, he was unable and unwilling to act. On the other hand, he was quick to clog the energies of one who was demonstrating faith – one who was about to prove himself fit for the high office which the purpose of God had assigned to him, and to which God’s anointing oil had dedicated him.

“Thou art not able.” True, but Jehovah was; and David was leaning on the strength of God’s arm. David’s faith laid hold of God’s ability – the same ability that appeared to Joshua at the walls of Jericho. David believed that Israel was still the Lord’s host, even though they had sunk from what they were in Joshua’s day. They were still the army of the Lord, and the battle was just as much the Lord’s battle as when the sun and moon stopped in their course so that Joshua could execute the judgment of God on the Canaanites. Simple faith in God sustained David, though Eliab accused him of pride, and Saul spoke of his inability.

Nothing gives more energy and power than the consciousness of acting for God, and that God is acting with us. This removes every obstacle; it lifts the soul above all human influence, and brings it into the very region of omnipotent power. If the Lord is on our side; if His hand is acting with us, then nothing can drive us from the path of service and testimony. “I can do all things,” said the apostle, “through Christ which strengtheneth me.” And again, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” The weakest saint can do all things through Christ. But, through man’s eye, it seems like presumption to talk of a weak saint “doing all things.”

Thus, when Saul looked on David, comparing him with Goliath, he judged rightly when he said, “Thou art not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him: for thou art but a youth, and he a man of war from his youth.” It was a comparison of flesh with flesh, and, as such was correct. To the unfaithful, comparing a stripling with a giant leaves little hesitation as to the outcome of the conflict. However, when David compared the strength of Goliath with the God of the armies of Israel, he knew there was no competition. “And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father’s sheep, and there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock: and I went out after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth: and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him. Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear: and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath defied the armies of the living God.”

This was the argument of faith. The hand that had delivered them from one difficulty after another would deliver them now. There is no “if” in this. David did not wait for a sign; he simply said, “Thy servant will go.” David felt the power of God’s presence in secret before presenting himself in public as the servant of God and Israel.

David had not boasted of his triumph over the lion and the bear; no one seemed to have heard of it. He probably would not have spoken of it now, had it not been necessary to show what a solid ground of confidence he had regarding the great work he was about to enter. He would therefore show that it was not in his own strength that he was going forth. In like matter, Paul probably would not have divulged his vision of the third Heaven if the carnal reasonings of the Corinthians had not compelled him to do so.

Both of these cases offer practical instruction. Most of us are prone to talk of our doings – thinking highly of them. The flesh glories in anything that exalts self. Even when the Lord accomplishes something with little service by us, we are quick to communicate a spirit of pride and self-complacency. It’s all right to speak of the Lord’s grace; to have our hearts filled with thankful adoration because of it; but that’s very different from boasting of self.

However, David kept the secret of his triumph over the lion and the bear concealed, and did not bring it up until the occasion demanded it. Even then, he spoke of himself as having achieved nothing, when he says, “The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, He will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine.” Precious, self-renouncing faith – faith that counts on God for everything, trusting nothing to the flesh – faith that brings God into every difficulty, that hides self, giving God all the glory. May our souls know this blessed faith.

Spirituality is needed to detect the difference between the language of faith and a language of mere commonplace and formal religiousness. Saul assumed the garb and phraseology of religiousness; we have already observed this in his history, and we see it in his interview with David. Mere religiousness is here noticeably contrasted with faith. When David made the clear and unequivocal statement of faith in the presence and power of Jehovah, Saul added, “Go, and the Lord be with thee.” But, he did not know what was really involved in having the Lord with him. He seemed to trust the Lord, but in reality he trusted his armor. If he understood, then why think of putting on armor? “The Lord be with thee” in Saul’s mouth meant nothing – he had no idea what it meant for David to simply trust in the Lord.

It is well to dwell on the evil of this – the evil of using words which mean nothing, but that involve trifling with the Lord's name and truth. How often do we speak of trusting the Lord, when, in reality, we are leaning on some circumstance, or set of circumstances. How often do we speak of living each day in simple dependence on God, when in reality, we are looking to some human or earthly source of supply. This is a sad evil – one we should strive to avoid.

When Saul made use of the apparent devout expression, “The Lord be with thee,” he proceeded to “arm David with his armor, and he put a helmet of brass upon his head; also he armed him with a coat of mail.” Saul had no idea that David was not going to fight in the usual way. Perhaps Saul thought it was professedly in the name of the Lord; but he thought David needed to use human means. Is it not true, that we frequently speak of using human means, while professing to use such means in the work of God, but, in reality, we are using the name of God in the work of the means? This is making a god of our means. Did Saul have more confidence in the Lord or in the armor? – Obviously, in the armor. So it is with those of us who do not truly walk by faith, leaning on human means and not on God.

There is no point in our study more important than that suggested by this interesting scene. The man of means and the man of faith are here revealed. We can easily see how far the latter proceeds in the use of means. Are means to be used? Yes, but only those means that are consistent with the action of faith, and the untarnished glory of the God of all power and grace. David felt that Saul’s armor and coat of mail were not such means, therefore, he refused them. Had he used them, the victory would not have been so manifestly the Lord’s. But David professed his faith in the Lord’s deliverance, not in human armor. True, means will be used; but let us take care that our means do not shut out God.¹

“And David girded his sword upon his armor, and he assayed to go; for he had not proved it. And David said unto Saul, I cannot go with these; for I have not proved them. And David put them off him.” Happy deliverance from the trappings of human policy. It has been observed that David’s temptation or trial was not meeting the giant, but whether to use Saul’s armor. Had the enemy succeeded in inducing him to use armor, all was gone. But, through grace, he rejected it, and by so doing put himself entirely in the Lord’s hands, and there David found security. This is faith. It leaves itself in God’s hand.²

Satan will tempt us to seek human additions to the finished work of Christ – something that will detract from the glory of the Son of God as the only Savior of sinners. But, it matters not what one adds to the work of Christ; such additions will make it of no avail. If adding to God’s work was permitted, surely God would have allowed circumcision; yet the apostle says, “Behold, I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing. For I testify again to every man that is circumcised, that he is a debtor to do the whole law. Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace.” (Gal. 5:2-4)

In a word, we must submit to Christ alone; no more, no less. If our works are to be put in with Christ’s, then He is not sufficient. We dishonor His atonement if we seek to connect something of our own with it, just as David would have dishonored the Lord by meeting the Philistine champion in Saul’s armor. No doubt many a so-called prudent man would have condemned what seemed to him to be the rashness and foolhardiness of the stripling David. The more practiced a man is in human warfare; the more likely he is to condemn the course adopted by the man of faith. But what about that? David knew in Whom he had believed; he knew it was not rashness that was leading him on, but simple faith in God’s willingness and ability to meet him in his need.

Perhaps no one in Saul’s army knew the weakness of David more than David himself. Though all eyes were fastened on him as one having self-confidence, we know what it was that buoyed up his heart, giving firmness to his step as he went forth to meet the terrible foe. We know that the power of God was there just as manifestly as when the waters of the sea divided to make way for the ransomed to pass over; and when faith brings the power of God into action, nothing can stand in the way – not even for a moment.

Verse 40 shows us David’s armor. “And he took his staff in his hand, and chose him five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them in a shepherd’s bag which he had, even in a scrip; and his sling was in his hand: and he drew near to the Philistine.”

So, David did use means; but what means. What contempt David had for the ponderous armor of his enemy – his sling contrasted with Goliath’s spear like a weaver’s beam. In fact, David could not have inflicted a deeper wound on the Philistine’s pride than by coming against him with such a weapon. Goliath felt this. “Am I a dog?” he said. In the judgment of faith, it mattered not what he was, dog or giant; he was an enemy of the people of God, and David was meeting him with the weapon of faith. “Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into my hand . . . that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord’s, and He will give you into our hands.”³

Here we have the true object of the man of faith – that Israel and all the earth may have a glorious testimony to the power and presence of God in the midst of His people. If David had used Saul’s armor it would not have been known that the Lord did not save by sword and spear – his warfare would have seemed like any other; but while the sling and stone gave little prominence to David, it gave glory to Him from whom the victory came.⁴

Faith always honors God, and God always honors faith. David put himself in the hands of God, and the happy result of doing so was victory – full, glorious victory. “David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him; but there was no sword in the hand of David.” Magnificent triumph. The precious fruit of simple faith in God. It should encourage our hearts to cast away every carnal confidence, and cling to the only true source of power.

God made David the happy instrument of deliverance – delivering his brethren from the galling and terrifying threats of the uncircumcised Philistine. He had come into their midst from the seclusion of a shepherd’s life, unknown and despised. Anointed king of Israel, he now goes forth single-handed to meet Israel’s enemy, and he laid him prostrate, making a show of him openly. David did all this as the servant of God, and the servant of Israel; with a faith that circumstances could not shake. It was a wondrous deliverance, gained by a single blow – no maneuvering of armies – no skill of generals – no prowess of soldiers. No; the matter was settled with just a stone slung by a shepherd’s hand – a victory of faith.

“And when the Philistines saw that their champion was dead, they fled.” How vain are hopes that are based on the perishable resources of flesh, even in its greatest strength and energy. Who, when seeing the giant and the stripling about to engage in conflict, would have longed for the latter? Who would have thought that soldier’s armor would be nothing before a sling and stone? But we know the end. The champion of the Philistines fell, and with him all their fondly-cherished hopes. “And the men of Israel and of Judah arose, and shouted, and pursued the Philistines.” Yes: they could now shout, for God had manifestly delivered them from the power of their enemies. He powerfully worked, by the hand of one they did not recognize as their anointed king, but whose moral grace attracted every heart.

But, amid the thousands who witnessed the victory, we read of one whose soul was drawn forth in ardent affection for the victor. Even the most thoughtless must have been struck with admiration as a result of the victory. At such times “the thoughts of many hearts are revealed.” Some would envy, some would admire; some would rest in the victory; some in the instrument; some would be drawn up to “the God of the armies of Israel” Who had again come among them with a drawn sword. But one devoted heart was powerfully attracted to David – Jonathan.

“And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul” (1 Sam. 18:1). No doubt Jonathan participated in the joy of David’s triumph; but there was more. It was not merely the triumph, but the person of David that drew out of Jonathan deep and ardent affections. Saul selfishly sought to retain the valiant David near, not because he loved him, but simply to magnify himself. Not so with Jonathan; he loved David. David had removed a load from his spirit, and filled up a great blank in his heart.

The giant’s repeated challenge had developed fear in Israel. One could have searched up and down the ranks for one able to meet the urgent need, but the search would have been in vain. As the giant’s vaunting words fell on their ears, “all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him, and were sore afraid.” When they heard his words, and saw his size, they “all” fled. We should remember that it was David himself, not just his work that touched Jonathan’s heart. He surely admired David’s victory, but he obviously admired his person more. It is well to note this, tracing its striking application to the true David.

We are warranted in making such an application will, because, from first to last, the whole scene is too remarkable to think otherwise. In Goliath we observe the enemy’s power that held the soul in grievous bondage. As a result of this power, human means provided no deliverance. The challenge might be repeated day after day – but in vain. Since Adam, from age to age, the solemn verdict is heard, “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgement”; and, like Israel’s response in the valley of Elah, man’s only response is dismay – deep, deep dismay. “Through fear of death, all our lifetime subject to bondage.” This was man’s response – the need felt, the void unfilled. The human heart yearned for something, but in vain. The claims of justice could not be met – death and judgment loomed in the distance, and man could only tremble at the prospect.

But blessed be the God of all grace, a deliverer has appeared – One mighty to save, the Son of God, the true David, the Anointed King of Israel and all the earth. He has met the need, satisfying the yearnings of the heart. But how? where? when? By His death on Calvary, in that terrible hour when all creation felt the solemn reality of what was being transacted. Yes, the cross was the field where the battle was fought, and the victory won. There, on the cross, the strong man had all his armor taken from him, and his house spoiled. There, justice had its utmost claims fully satisfied; there, the handwriting of ordinances, which was against us, was nailed to the tree. There, too, the curse of a broken law was forever obliterated by the blood of the Lamb – the needs of a guilty conscience satisfied.

“The precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot,” settled everything for the soul that truly believes. As poor trembling sinners we stand by and observe the conflict; beholding all the power of the enemy laid low by one stroke of our glorious Deliverer, and feeling the heavy burden rolled away from our struggling spirit. The tide of divine peace and joy can flow into our souls, and we can walk in the full power of the emancipation purchased for us by the blood, proclaimed to us in the Gospel – the good news of Jesus Christ.

And as ones delivered, don’t we love the Person of the deliverer? – Not merely the work, but the Person? How can it be otherwise? Who among us, who have felt the real depth of need; who have groaned beneath the burdens of sin, could fail to love and adore that gracious One Who satisfied the one and removed the other? The work of Jesus is infinitely precious; it meets the sinner’s need, and introduces the soul to a position of being able to contemplate the Person of Christ. In a word, the work of the Savior is for the sinner; the Person of the Savior is for the saint: what He has done is for the former; what He is, for the latter.

But, for the heart that is cold and unacquainted with His person, there is only a mere formal following of Christ. In John 6, we find a multitude of people following the Lord Jesus merely on selfish grounds, and the Lord was constrained to tell them so: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Ye seek Me, not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled.” It was not for what He was that caused them to seek Him, but for mere carnal advantage. Therefore, when He applies to their hearts the searching statement, “Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink His blood, there is no life in you,” we read, “Many of His disciples went back, and walked no more with Him.”

The whole Gospel of John is a development of the personal glory of the Incarnate Word Who is presented to us as “the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.” Yet the natural heart could not receive Him as such, and so, “many went back, and walked no more with Him.” The majority could not bear this truth. Let us harken to the testimony of one taught of God: “Peter answered and said, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life; and we believe and are sure that Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Here we have the two things – what He had for them and what He was to them. He had eternal life to give, and He was the Son of the living God; by the former, the sinner is drawn to Him; by the latter, the saint is bound to Him. In other words, by His work, He not only meets all our necessities as sinners, but by His person, He satisfies our affections and desires as saints.

This train of thought is suggested by the touching interview between David and Jonathan, when the conflict was over. Israel raised the shout of triumph and pursued the Philistines to reap the fruits of victory, while Jonathan was delighting himself in the person of the victor. “And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle.” This was pure, simple, unaffected love – undivided occupation with an attractive object. Love strips itself for the sake of its object. David had forgotten himself, putting his life in jeopardy for God and Israel – now Jonathan forgot himself for David.

Let us never forget that love of Jesus is the spring of true Christianity. Love of Jesus makes us strip ourselves – stripping self to honor Jesus is the fairest fruit of the work of God in the soul.

Saul’s feelings, regarding the person and work of David, were very different. He had not learned to forget himself and rejoice to see the work done by another. We all naturally like to be or to do something – to be looked at and thought of. This was also true of Saul. He was a self-important man, and therefore unable to bear the songs of the maids of Israel: “Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” Saul could not handle being second. He forgot how cowardly he had trembled at the voice of Goliath. “And Saul eyed David from that day and forward.” The eye of envy and bitter jealousy is a terrible eye.⁵

As we proceed, we will trace the development of both Jonathan’s love and Saul’s hatred, but, now let us trace the man of faith through other scenes.

Footnotes:
¹ Faith waits on God, allowing Him to use whatever means He pleases. It does not ask God to bless our means, but lets Him use His own.
² How often the child of God or the servant of Christ, harnessed with human devices and schemes for his work, finds himself burdened and hampered with hindrances to obedience and faith. Let us shake them off, and through grace, cast our soul on God, finding at once the joy and liberty of the service and energy of faith.
³ Perhaps you have observed the change in the second chapter from the expression “God” to “Lord God.” There is importance in the distinction. When God is seen acting in relation with man, He takes the title “Lord God,” – (Jehovah Elohim); but until man appears on the scene, the word “Lord” is not used. We here point our just three of several passages in which the distinction is strikingly presented. “And they that went in, went in male and female of all flesh, as God (Elohim) had commanded him; and the Lord (Jehovah) shut him in” (Gen. 7:16). Elohim was going to destroy the world which He had made; but Jehovah took care of the man with whom He had a relation. Again, “that all the earth may know that there is a God (Elohim) in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the Lord (Jehovah) saveth” (1 Sam. 17:46, 47). All the earth was to recognize the presence of Elohim; but Israel was called to recognize the actings of Jehovah, with whom they had a relation. Lastly, “Jehoshaphat cried out, and the Lord (Jehovah) helped him; and God (Elohim) moved them to depart from him” (2 Chr. 18:31). Jehovah took care of His poor erring servant; but Elohim, though unknown, acted upon the hearts of the uncircumcised Syrians.
⁴ It is interesting to observe David's address to Goliath. He does not say, “I come to thee with a sling and a stone.” No; he says, “in the name of the Lord of hosts.” With David it was not the means, but “the Lord of Hosts” to which he fixed his eyes.
⁵ It requires a simple heart and single eye to be able to unfeignedly rejoice in the fruit of another’s labors, as though from our own hands. Had the glory of God and the good of His people filled Saul’s heart, he would not have given thought to the praise, whether attributed to him or David. But he sought his own glory. This was the secret of his envy and jealousy. Oh what sacred rest, what true elevation, what perfect quietness of spirit flows from self-renunciation – resulting from the heart being wholly occupied with Christ.

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