Picture This!

[Carol Morgan]

I had this idea for a new thread: "Picture This!"

I think we too often read an Old Testament event or description without trying to picture what really took place or what it really would have been like if we had been there to see it.

I recently was impressed with a little-known incident in the life of David--when three of his mighty men risked their lives to get him a drink of water! If anyone else has tried to picture some event in the Old Testament--and the image became very real for you--please add to this thread and tell us about it.

Okay, here's David and his mighty men:

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A MOVING SCENE

Then three of the thirty chief men went down at harvest time and came to David at the cave of Adullam.  And the troop of Philistines encamped in the Valley of Rephaim.  David was then in the stronghold, and the garrison of the Philistines was then in Bethlehem.  And David said with longing, "Oh, that someone would give me a drink of the water from the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!"  So the three mighty men broke through the camp of the Philistines, drew water from the well of Bethlehem that was by the gate, and took it and brought it to David.  Nevertheless he would not drink it, but poured it out to the LORD.  And he said, "Far be it from me, O LORD, that I should do this!  Is this not the blood of the men who went in jeopardy of their lives?  Therefore he would not drink it.   2 Samuel 23:13-17

Upon my first reading of this portion of Scripture, I must admit that I thought to myself, "What ingratitude on David's part.  Those men must have been really angry!"  How wrong I was, for surely just the opposite is the case.

Let's picture the scene.  David is encamped against the Philistines with a loyal and loving band of men.  He's thirsty, and his thoughts go back to the favored well at Bethlehem.  We've all had moments like that, haven't we, when under stress we're reminded of something precious?  His three mighty men hear his longing sigh for a drink from the well.  I see them now, in my mind, gathering in a little huddle.  "Why don't we get that water for him?  We can do it, the LORD will be with us."  Quietly they sneak away, emotions tense as they wind their way through the Philistine camp.  Quickly they fill a container with the refreshing water and hurry back to camp, hearts pounding in anticipation of David's surprise and thankfulness.  I see the surprise on David's face as he slowly reaches out to take the water.  He is overwhelmed by the devotion of such valiant men, and with the greatest solemnity I see him pour the water onto the ground with those stirring words, "Is this not the blood of the men who went in jeopardy of their lives?"  It is the most precious of offerings, and the three godly men are moved beyond words.  We know that feeling, when emotions are so strong it's difficult to keep the quiver from our voice, the tears from our eyes.

We must remember that Israel's worship was centered in the sacrifices, and we find David here offering the most costly sacrifice he could.  I wonder if David might not also have had in mind the blood of the Redeemer to come?


 

[Carol Morgan]

While reading Matthew Poole's commentary on Genesis 3:7 ("And the eyes of them both were opened"), I found myself trying to picture in my mind this unsettling event.  Up to the time of eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve lived in a paradise of wonder and lush beauty.  I can picture them living in the midst of lovely birds and fascinating animals, enjoying the exquisite beauty and diversity of flowering shrubs and trees.  I can see the happy expressions that come with thoughts pure in every respect.  They never experienced envy, hatred, suspicion, ugliness of any kind, or fear of what the future might bring.  Blessedness, contentment, uplifting thoughts, and peace of heart filled their every moment.  Poole points out that Eve did not even experience any sense of fear upon being approached and spoken to by a serpent, something so out of the ordinary.  What must it have been like, then, when in an instant the eyes of their minds were opened to know evil in all its fullness?  One moment the whiteness of purity, the next the blackness of evil?  One moment free from all sin, the next imprisoned by it?  It's hard for me to imagine, I confess, because I have always lived in a body defiled by sin.  Every thought I've ever known has been tainted by sin.  But it was not like that for them.  I can picture the shock when "their eyes were opened."  Surely, their hearts must have momentarily turned to stone.  Can't you see them, suddenly frozen and unable to move, eyes wide open with the terror and horror of their new knowledge?  Then see them again, weeping bitter tears and crying out, "What have I done?"

[Carol Morgan]

How often it happens that a verse that seems rather ordinary suddenly strikes you with wonder.  This happened to me while I was reading the account in 1 Samuel of the ark of the LORD being returned by the Philistines.

In chapter six we read that the men of Beth Shemesh were in the field reaping when, in the distance, they saw the cart carrying the ark.  To their surprise, the cows pulling the cart came right into the field of Joshua and stopped.  The men were overjoyed, and that same day they split the cart for firewood and offered the cows as a burnt offering to Yahweh.  But amidst all this jubilation, the people forgot one very important thing.  They forgot the sanctity of the ark, and they looked inside it.  Because of their sin, Yahweh killed many of the men.  How quickly did great joy turn into great lamentation.  The men of Beth Shemesh then asked, "Who is able to stand before this holy Yahweh God?  And to whom shall it go up from us?"  Who would hazard their lives after such a calamity and take the ark?  So they sent messengers to Kirjath Jearim asking them to come and take the ark away.

Now follows what at first seems simply another verse of historical narrative.  "Then the men of Kirjath Jearim came and took the ark of Yahweh and brought it into the house of Abinadab on the hill, and consecrated Eleazar his son to keep the ark of Yahweh."  Is there nothing here to stir our emotions?  Let us try to picture the scene.

Word of the great calamity at Beth Shemesh has spread to the surrounding towns.  The afflictions visited upon the Philistines were understandable, but the death of so many Israelites has struck a somber note.  Nerves are on edge.  People are fearful, feeling tense.  And then comes the news that the men of Beth Shemesh are afraid to keep the ark and are looking for another place to house it.  I can picture in my mind groups of people huddled together and lamenting, "What if they ask us?  What should we tell them?"  

We are not told why Kirjath Jearim was asked to take the ark nor why they agreed to do so.  To my own mind, I believe we have an account given us of men and women who were known among the Israelites for their godliness.  The opportunity of having Yahweh's presence among them was esteemed a great privilege.  Truly Abinadab and his son Eleazar must have been men of great piety to devote themselves wholly to such a sacred task.

How often men turn away when true worship requires work, time, extra care.  My heart fills with admiration for these two men and a town that put Yahweh's honor first.  Should not this verse be an inspiration to us all?