“David fled from Naioth by Ramah, and came and said before Jonathan, What have I done? what is mine iniquity, and what is my sin before thy father, that he seeks my life?” (1 Sam. 20:1). Whereas the natural man remains under the terrible “What hast thou done?” once addressed to Cain (Gen. 4:10), the man who is justified by faith, persecuted without cause, can say like David: “What have I done?” But David could speak like this only at this point in his career. Later, when persecuted by his son Absalom, he could no longer say, “What have I done?” Still later, when he had committed the serious sin of numbering the people, he is obliged to confess to God while under His judgment: “I have sinned greatly in what I have done” (2 Sam. 24:10). Yet nevertheless, at the very moment when he was under discipline he is presented to us as a type of Christ standing in the breach in order to save his people, when he says: “Behold, it is I that have sinned, and it is I that have committed iniquity; but these sheep, what have they done?” (2 Sam. 24:17).
But only One could say: “I do always the things that are pleasing to Him [that has sent Mel”; only One at the last moment of His career could receive the testimony from the mouth of the converted robber: “This man has done nothing amiss” (Luke 23:41).
David, who is such a precious type of Christ, also receives this public testimony before Saul through Jonathan’s mouth: “Why should he be put to death? what has he done?” (1 Sam. 20:32). What a privilege it is for the believer to have through the Holy Spirit the possibility of copying the Lord in this, as in every other thing. Only, in order to produce this fruit of righteousness the Lord never needed discipline as David did or as we do. All His afflictions were on the one hand the fruit and the witness of His grace toward us. They brought out on the other hand the absolute perfection in Him, whether in His life or in His death. In Him the meal offering, just as the burnt offering, caused an unmixed “sweet savor to the Lord” to rise.
We shall see more than once, even during this period of his life when David could say: “What have I done”? that certain details of his behavior necessitate God’s intervention in discipline. Thus we find even here in 1 Samuel 20:6 a lack of truth which, although understandable, is no less to be condemned. In David the truth was below grace: it was reserved for the Word become flesh to bring into this world unmingled grace united to perfect truth. (John 1).
Whereas David, the man of faith, knows perfectly well the danger to which his faithfulness exposed him and, seeing only a step between himself and death (1 Sam. 20:3), knows that his only resource is in God, Jonathan is still counting on the assistance that he believes he can give his friend (1 Sam. 20:2). He has a certain confidence in his father’s character; he wishes that the Lord might be with David as He had been with Saul (1 Sam. 20:13). He really does not reach a high level of spiritual intelligence nor of appreciation of the human heart. It is always so for the believer when he is associated with the world by any links whatsoever. Jonathan has still not understood that God has rejected Saul, even when on the other hand all his confidence is in David. Is he not assured of his power in the future and of his goodwill? “Thou shalt not cut off thy kindness from my house forever, no, not when Jehovah cuts off the enemies of David, every one from the face of the earth” (1 Sam. 20:15). He continues to forget himself here in proclaiming that the kingdom belongs to his friend. And when is it that Jonathan chooses to commend himself to David’s protection? At the moment when David is fleeing, his life exposed at every instant! Is it not the same for us? Have we not found our protector, our refuge, and all our hope in a rejected Christ?
It is beautiful to see this absence of egoism in Jonathan in presence of the one who would inherit all the rights that birth would appear to have conferred on Saul’s son. Ah! this is because he loved David as his own soul; because from the beginning he had given power, authority, the kingdom — in a word, everything — to the son of Jesse. Saul cried out: “As long as the son of Jesse lives upon earth, thou shalt not be established, nor thy kingdom” (1 Sam. 20:31), for to him his son’s being established was more than all of David’s glories. To him it was a shame to company with the true king: “Thou hast chosen the son of Jesse to thine own shame and to the shame of thy mother’s nakedness” (1 Sam. 20:30). Such words deeply wound Jonathan’s heart; he leaps up at this insult, but he is grieved, not on account of the insult to himself and his mother, but “for David, because his father had done him shame” (1 Sam. 20:34). He loves David, dishonored and cursed by Saul, with the same ardor with which he had once loved him in the splendor of his youth and victory.
Jonathan comes to David’s assistance in this extremity. In a last touching interview “they kissed one another, and wept one with another, until David exceeded” (1 Sam. 20:41). How Jonathan’s lovable and sympathetic character endears him to us; yet nevertheless he lacked one thing, one thing only; he did not have enough faith to follow the rejected king. His position, it is true, made such a step very difficult, but for faith difficulties ought not to count. Jonathan should have shared David’s afflictions more fully than with his heart alone, and because he did not do so he was later obliged to share his father’s defeat and ruin.