John H. Paterson
The Lord is a God of knowledge... (1 Samuel 2:3)
IN a previous article about the Christian's knowledge of God, I suggested that this knowledge, when we gain it -- gradually and, perhaps, painfully -- is not for our personal benefit alone, but can be and should be used for the good of others. We do not acquire the knowledge of God simply to become knowledgeable, but to use our knowledge to affect events in the lives of others.
This we can evidently do, moreover, without either the awareness or the consent of the other person or people concerned. They may lack the knowledge of God themselves; yet their own ignorance is transcended by the power of God invoked on their behalf by a knowing and believing friend.
In evidence of this I cited in the last article the cases of Lot, who was delivered from Sodom as a result of the knowledgeable prayer of Abraham (Genesis 18); of Moses, who was able to "beg off" Israel, not once but several times, when they had sinned as a nation; and Job, who acted on behalf of his family repeatedly at times when he feared that they might have forgotten themselves and their reverence for God (Job 1:4-5).
There is, however, one other case study in the Old Testament which clearly illustrates the use, or usefulness, of the knowledge of God on behalf of others. It is the case of Samuel: to be more exact, it is the theme of the whole of what we call the First Book of Samuel.
This book occupies a key position in the Old Testament record of God's dealings with His people. It is a bridging book; that is, a book that straddles an enormous gap. It starts where the Book of Judges ends, and it finishes with the way clear for David to ascend the throne of Israel. But put that in another way and you will see how enormous is the gap to be bridged. It starts with that appalling last verse of Judges (21:25): "In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes." If you have read through the later chapters of Judges, you will have to agree that that statement of social and moral anarchy is not overdrawn. At the other end of the book, however, comes the reign of David: the high point of Hebrew history; the Golden Age to which, even today, the Jewish people look back with longing.
For Israel, it represented a move from anarchy to world power in one short period -- little more single lifetime. And spiritually it was a move from the deepest ignorance of God's law to the rule of a king of whom it was later to be said, "I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after mine own heart, which shall fulfil all my will" (Acts 13:22).
What a transformation -- not only in the fortunes of the nation but also in the spread of the knowledge of God! And at once we find ourselves asking: how did it come about? What was the secret? Confronted with total ignorance of Himself among His chosen people, how would God react to restore the knowledge of Himself?
The answer to those questions was this; He would find a man -- and one man would be enough -- to whom He could reveal the knowledge of Himself, and through that one man He would eventually restore the vision and the understanding of the whole nation.
That is the solution as the First Book of Samuel reveals it to us. And it certainly fits in with a number of small and apparently random clues in the book itself. Knowledge generally comes to us through the faculties of seeing or hearing and, if [3/4] you step to think about it, there is quite a scattering of references in this book to both. There is Eli whose eyes were dim so that he could not see (4:15) -- in more senses than one. There is Samuel who said, "Speak, for thy servant heareth" (3:10). These were times when (3:1) "the word of the Lord was precious in those days; there was no open vision" (R. V. margin, no widely-spread vision). And when the Lord wanted to warn Samuel of Saul's impending arrival, He "uncovered his ear" (9:11 R. V. margin).
So knowledge -- of God and His will -- was going to be the central issue for Israel and her leaders and, as time went on, they found themselves grouped into two: the "knows" and the "don't knows"! In the first group were Samuel and David, together with those two remarkable women in our story, Hannah and Abigail. In the second group, tragically for Israel, were Eli and Saul. And stuck rather miserably between the two groups was Jonathan, Saul's son. He knew all too well (23:17) that David, and not he, would be the next king, but he stood by his father and, in the end, died with him.
