It’s one thing to withhold speaking evil of someone who has hurt us, and quite another to speak well of them. But that’s what David did regarding Saul. In 2 Samuel 1, we read his beautifully written lament, grieving the loss of King Saul and honoring him and Jonathan before the people of Judah. David’s relationship with the Lord cultivated in him a mindset that reflected the very heart of the Father, who pours out blessings on both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45).
When King Saul was killed in battle and word reached David, he and all his leaders tore their clothes, grieved, wept, and fasted (2 Samuel 1:12). He executed the Amalekite who brought news of Saul’s death after he boasted that he had struck Saul with the blow that ended his life. In anger, David asked, “Why weren’t you afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed?” (2 Samuel 1:14). His commitment was to Saul’s position as the King of Israel—the one commissioned to rule by the God of Israel and the nations.
While such honor was a natural response to their king’s tragic death, David moved beyond this expectation by lavishly blessing the man who had mercilessly hunted him down like a dog for over seven years (1 Samuel 24:14). He wrote a lament honoring Saul and Jonathan, commanding the people of Judah to learn and recite it like a funeral song (1 Samuel 1:18). Shockingly absent in his poem is any mention of Saul’s harmful actions or the evil he committed against God and David. Instead, David publicly honored him, calling for the “daughters of Israel to weep” for him (v. 24). He used rich metaphors— comparing Saul to a gazelle, declaring he was faster than an eagle and stronger than a lion (v. 23). He refers to both Saul and Jonathan as “mighty…in battle” (v. 25), proclaiming that they were both loved and admired.
How is this kind of love possible?
If you’re anything like me, you’re left scratching your head, wondering how on earth he did this. And, if we’re anything alike, you’re also left with a knot in your throat for all the times you’ve stopped short of such a blessing. But this is the norm for the Christian life, as exemplified by David’s attitudes and actions and seen perfectly in the life of the greater David, Jesus. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus spoke about this radical requirement of enemy love, warning us: “If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?” (Matthew 5:46–47). Instead, He calls for a love beyond human capability that only the Spirit of God can work in us as we abide in Christ. This results in what my husband refers to as the LDBP principle, taken from Luke 6, one of the two versions of the Sermon on the Mount. Here, we’re commanded to love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us and pray for those who mistreat us (Luke 6:27-28).
David’s lament, known as the “Song of the Bow,” testifies to the Spirit’s transforming work in his life and his submission to the will and Word of God. He understood the Father’s undeserved mercy and grace which he had received, enabling him to pour it out—rather than sprinkle it—on his greatest enemy. David trusted in the sovereign Lord for vindication, which freed him to show alabaster-jar breaking love and abundant mercy to someone who hated him without cause. Like the "sinner" who broke a costly alabaster jar of perfume to pour on Jesus’ head and feet, so David, her forefather in the faith, did the same with his words of blessing to his worst enemy.
I’m challenged today to yield my hurts to the Lord and remember His incredible love for me at the cross, where He forgave my darkest and most egregious sins and then spoke blessings over my life. I’m asking the Lord to help me continue refraining from angry thoughts and slander and to provide me with opportunities to show even greater love -- to speak truthful, kind blessings about my enemies whenever I get the chance. Praying that He will do the same for you through his transforming grace and mercy.
