16. The Ark at Gibeah; or, God's Presence Fitfully Sought

Chapter 16 - The Ark at Gibeah; or, God’s Presence Fitfully Sought

ONE of the numerous difficulties which present themselves in study­ing the consecutive history of the ark is found in connection with an event which took place during the reign of Saul. That monarch was encamped with a small force at Gibeah, while the Philistine army held possession of Michmash. Jonathan and his armor-bearer, unknown to the king or the people, had gone on a private expedi­tion, had daringly forced their way into the enemy’s garrison, and had attacked them with a slaughter so unexpected and disastrous, that it created a panic through the host, and caused every man’s sword to be turned against his fel­low, friends mistaken for foes in the confusion that prevailed. The stir was perceived by Israel’s watchmen, and the absence of the youthful warriors was ascertained. Saul was in a perplexity; he longed to rush upon the enemy, and to relieve the venturesome heroes who had hazarded so great a risk. But "nei­ther sword nor spear was found in the hand of any of the people," the Philistine policy having availed to reduce them to this condition of utter defenselessness. What course was to be pursued? In his strait, the monarch bethought him of Jehovah’s power.

If God were with him, could not five of his little band chase a hundred, and a hundred of them put ten thousand to flight? He turned to the priest, saying, "Bring hither the ark of God." 1 Samuel 14:18-46. Here again we meet with the phrase, "for the ark of God was at that time with the children of Israel." How, why, or when the ark was brought to Gibeah is unrecorded, and by some the fact is denied. The Septuagint has "Bring hither the ephod;" but this reading is unsup­ported. Others interpret the words as having reference to some coffer in which the ephod was kept; but we cannot believe that to such would have been applied the specific and em­phatic title, "the ark of God."There seems no legitimate mode of avoiding the conclusion, that the sacred symbol had been temporarily removed from the neighboring city of Kirjath-­jearim, and located in the vicinity of the camp, between Migron and Gibeah of Benjamin. What was Saul’s motive for uttering the com­mand, "Bring hither the ark," we cannot posi­tively decide; but we are free to surmise, that it may have been somewhat in the same spirit which had led to its removal from Shiloh. The royal order does not seem to have met with an instant compliance. It may be that Ahiah ventured to remonstrate. His own fa­mily-history would come to his recollection; the death of both his grand-parents, and that of his great-grandfather Eli, would be recalled, as well as the national disgrace memorialized in the expressive name of his uncle Ichabod; and, however unwilling the Philistines might be to repossess themselves of the trophy, the high priest would be yet more unwilling to expose "the glory of Israel" to the risk of falling again into their hands. From some cause, at all events, the colloquy was pro­longed; and ere it was ended, the king’s atten­tion was arrested by the growing tumult and confusion in the enemy’s ranks. Filled with eager impatience and sanguine hope, he set aside his newly formed project, not through fear of endangering the ark’s safety, but from the notion that he could dispense with its aid. "Withdraw thine hand," he said to the yielding priest, who was about to execute his mandate; and summoning his six hundred men, he went forth to the conflict.

Voluntary recruits soon swelled his ranks, and the Philistines were forced to betake themselves to rapid flight. Saul would have pursued them through the live-long night, despite the faintness and fatigue of his troops; but Ahiah interposed the salutary ad­vice, "Let us draw near hither unto God." Then, as the king’s representative, he stood before the ark, and proposed the king’s in­quiry. But from within the veil, no answering voice was returned; by the Urim and Thummim was no response obtainable. It might have been easy to discover a cause for the Divine silence. The monarch’s forgetfulness of God, his neglect of divine ordinances, his rash oath, his selfish desire of vengeance on his foes, made up a list of crimes, anyone of which had been sufficient to account for the non-reception of his suit. He was regarding iniquity in his heart, and the Lord would not hear him. Blinded by his self-confidence, and desirous to convict the offender for whose sin they were thus punished, he called together a public as­sembly, and ordered the lot to be cast. On Jonathan it fell, not indeed to denote that in God’s esteem the latter had been actually chargeable with guilt in the breach of an un­known precept, but to awaken in Saul’s mind a consciousness of his arbitrary command, and the yet more arbitrary penalty which he had annexed to the violation of it. At the inter­cession of the people, the young prince’s life was spared; whereupon Saul refrained from further pursuit of the enemy, and returned to his usual abode. But we read not that he again thought of the ark of God. Its presence no longer required in the camp, and no order being issued for its better lodgment, it seems to have been quietly restored to its former abode in the dwelling of Abinadab. Nor do we ever read again of any solicitude for it, or any desire after it, on the part of Saul. He had called for its help, in a moment of despair; he had spurned that help, in the succeeding moment of restored confidence. As he had sought Samuel at the first only for the sake of his father’s asses, so he had now sought the ark only for the furthering of his worldly inte­rests. Hence the vacillation which he displayed. His fears quieted, he cared not for the Lord’s assistance. In this respect, there are many like him;---many who, according to the prophet’s language, assemble themselves to God for corn and wine, and yet rebel against Him;---or who use reli­gion only to drown their fears, willing to accept it as a palladium, loath to take it upon them as a yoke. This is often the secret of a fitful de­votion. As long as there is a powerful impulse from without---as long as there is the urgency of fear, or the hope of profit, or the influence of friendship, or the desire of approbation, to stimulate to the pursuit of piety, so long there is a semblance of seeking after God, there is a maintenance of all the external acts of godli­ness, nay more, there may be a really strong desire to be made partaker of the benefits which accompany salvation. But where there is nothing more, this will eventually die out. The withdrawal of that foreign impulse, the quelling of that anxiety, the opening up of some other way to greatness, the loss of friendly counselors and pious advisers, the self-satis­faction resulting from a position already gained, from a good name already won, and from a competence already amassed, will be apt to de­velop the true carnality of the heart. Not at once, perhaps, but gradually, will prayer be re­strained. One by one will religious habits be dropped. More and more will God’s ordinances be neglected.

Those who had run well, or had seemed to run well, will be hindered. The seed may have put forth some visible shoots; but these will presently wither away before the rising sun, because they have no deepness of earth. There has been no vitality of principle, no fixedness of purpose, no rightly-motived choice of God and His service. Selfishness has been the only impelling force; the earthly has been more cared for than the heavenly; pre­sent peace more aimed at than future welfare; personal interests more kept in view than God’s glory. It is unquestionable, that the first in­ducements to a truly religious life may often be no higher; but the genuine religion which may thus have been originated, always rises to some­thing far beyond. If terror leads us to the Sa­vior’s feet, it is love that alone keeps us there. If promises of earthly good first attract the soul to listen to the claims of truth, that truth, re­ceived into the heart, will fill it with the bright hopes of celestial blessedness, and rouse it to hold fast the beginning of its confidence stead­fast unto the end. If immediate ease of con­science is the earliest blessing the returning sinner seeks, an after-life of growing holiness is what the true penitent desires. If his own safety is what the believer first prizes, his Master’s honor subsequently becomes the highest incitement to his efforts, and the noblest burden of his petitions.

Here, then, we find the test of a thriving or unhealthy state of soul. Is our religion a thing dependent on frames and moods, or on firm and stable principle? is it cultivated by fits and starts, or can we say, "This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark"? Is our piety an inconstant stream, now swollen into a win­ter torrent by life’s storms and tempests, and then exhaling like the summer brook in the sunshine of prosperity,---or is it in us a well of water steadily and continuously springing up into everlasting life? Is it a vessel, whose sails are idly flapped by the veering gale of human applause,---or whose onward and rapid progress is secured by the heavenward-guiding influences of God’s Holy Spirit? On the satisfactory answer to these inquiries depends the establishment of our claim to be among the number of those who "go on unto perfec­tion." The" called" and the "chosen" are they who are also "faithful." If a Demas for­sakes the good cause, it is because of "having loved this present world." If a Paul has fought the good fight, and finished his course, and kept the faith, it is because to him Christ has been "all in all." To seek after the Lord with fickleness and vacillation, is to prove that we have no real appreciation of His character. To seek His presence with persevering impor­tunity, as the blessing we daily and hourly crave, is an essential proof that we value com­munion with the Most High. It is alike the privilege and the characteristic of the upright, that they "dwell in His presence," that they "abide under the shadow of the Almighty." It is not in seasons of danger only that they re­pair to His throne; for it is theirs to say, "I am continually with thee; thou hast holden me by my right hand; thou shalt guide me by thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee."