In a recent post on my series “Violence in the Old Testament” I refer to the story of Jephthah from Judges 11 (The Moral Failure of Biblical Characters Part 7). In this article I noted that the stories of moral failure are not written for us to emulate, but are written as warnings when we stray from God’s Word. Jephthah is famous for sacrificing his daughter due to a foolish vow that he made (Judg. 11:30-40). In the article I suggested that Jephthah imitates his enemy, the Ammonites, (and Moabites as well), by offering a human sacrifice. Confirmation of this view may come in the most recent issue of BAR (Biblical Archaeology Review, vol 40, No. 5, 2014, pp. 6, 57), where editor Hershel Shanks speaks about what is believed by many to be the discovery of a temple of human sacrifice. This temple is situated in the city of Amman, Jordan near the airport. The city of Amman has retained the ancient name of the people that once occupied this area, the Ammonites.
This temple was first excavated in 1955 by Australian archaeologist John Basil Hennessy (a diagram of the temple, drawn by Hennessy, can be found in the BAR article mentioned above). He discovered an altar (stone pile), and most surprisingly, he discovered small bone fragments of which 90% were human! In 1976 Larry G. Herr carried out further excavation at the site and discovered many more human bone fragments. Herr concluded that the stone pile (altar) functioned as a pyre since the bones showed evidence of burning. Scholarly opinion is divided as to whether this site was an ancient crematorium or a temple of human sacrifice. Archaeologist Ami Mazar says that it is difficult to accept the suggestion that it was a crematorium since no such buildings have ever been discovered in the ancient Near East. However it must also be admitted that no temple of human sacrifice has ever been discovered either.
Artist’s depiction of offering a child to Molech
Interestingly, the temple dates to roughly the same time as Jephthah (13th century BC–most consider Jephthah to have lived in the 12th century BC). Considering both the biblical evidence (Lev. 18:21; 1 Kgs. 11:7; Jer. 32:35), as well as Phoenician evidence (IVP Bible Background Commentary on the OT, pp. 132-133), there is no doubt that child sacrifice to Milcom (or, Molech), the god of the Ammonites, was practiced. Therefore, in my opinion, if one includes this written evidence, the scale is tipped in favour of this being a temple of human sacrifice. If it is, it would add further weight to the argument that Jephthah was influenced by the Ammonites’ practice of child sacrifice.
I hope you enjoy this short 4 minute interview on my Book Family Portraits: Character Studies in 1 and 2 Samuel, conducted by Mike Neglia of Calvary Chapel Cork.
Family Portraits is available at WestBow press, and Amazon USA / UK as well as other internet sites (e.g., Barnes & Noble) in hardback, paperback, or ebook. It is also available at prepub price at logos.com
Mind the Gap: Guidelines for Gaps in Biblical Narratives
No matter what the story is, or who the storyteller is, it is impossible to give every detail of an event. This means that there are inevitably “gaps” in every story. It’s great when the person relating the story is there with you because you can always ask questions that help to fill in the gaps. But if the story is written down and it is not possible to contact the author, gaps become more challenging. This is especially true of biblical stories which were written centuries ago in another language with a different cultural setting than ours. Some of the gaps we find in biblical narrative are a result of the distance between ancient times and the 21st century. As Robert Chisholm states, “Many of the gaps we perceive in a story would not have been present for an ancient Israelite audience, for ancient readers would have intuitively understood nuances of their language and aspects of their culture better than we do” (Interpreting the Historical Books, p. 69). However, sometimes the author deliberately left a gap in a story, and it is these intentional gaps that I am focusing on in this article.
Intentional Gaps in Biblical Narrative
Probably the Bible’s most famous gap concerns Cain’s wife.
There can be a number of reasons for intentional gaps in a story. First it is important to remember that writing in the ancient world was an expensive process and writing materials were not as readily available as they are today. Furthermore, space was limited. Books were not in use and only so much material would fit on a scroll. All of this means that a biblical author had to be selective about what to include and what to omit. One reason then for a gap in the story is that the detail was not considered important enough to include. Sometimes a gap occurs because the writer has left enough evidence in the text for us to figure out the obvious answer. This is probably the reason for one of the most famous gaps in the Old Testament. It seems that everyone who reads Genesis 4:17 asks the obvious question, “Where did Cain get his wife?” The author asserts that Adam and Eve are the first human beings and that all humanity is descended from them (e.g., Gen. 3:20; 5:1ff.). If the author’s story is taken at face value, then Cain’s wife must be a relative (either a sister or niece, etc.). It would be a waste of precious space for the author to explain this “obvious” detail.
There is a large gap in the story of Samuel
Another reason for gaps may involve the literary artistry of the biblical author. Gaps in the narrative may lead to surprises later in the story. For example, 2 Samuel 21:5-8 reveals that there are other living descendants of Saul besides Mephibosheth and his son (see 2 Sam. 9). Gaps naturally create curiosity and, at times, the author may use gaps to encourage the reader to investigate the text more carefully. The disappearance of Samuel from 1 Samuel 4-6 is an example. In 1 Samuel 3 Samuel is a young man who receives the word of the Lord. However, when Israel is defeated by the Philistines and the ark of God is captured (1 Sam. 4), Samuel appears nowhere in the story! When Samuel finally reappears in 1 Samuel 7, he is a much older man. Why are so many years of Samuel’s life blanked by the author? We may presume that some of the material was irrelevant, as we have already discussed, but any reader must wonder how such an important figure can disappear from the story at one of the most critical moments, with no explanation of his whereabouts! The writer seems to be using this gap in the story of Samuel’s life to make an important point. Chapter 3 ends by telling us that the Lord let none of Samuel’s words “fall to the ground” and that all Israel knew that Samuel was a prophet of the Lord (2 Sam. 3:19-20). In fact, the statement made immediately before the battle with the Philistines is “And the word of Samuel came to all Israel” (2 Sam. 4:1). If Samuel was indeed God’s prophet, and his word never failed, then his absence in chapter 4 further emphasizes Israel’s apostasy. When the Israelites met the Philistines in battle they did not consult God’s word through Samuel. All we learn is that after an initial defeat, they put their trust in a religious relic–the ark (1 Sam. 4:2-5), rather than in God Himself. By removing Samuel from the narrative, the author subtly comments on Israel’s faithlessness without directly commenting on it! This conclusion is strengthened by the fact that when Samuel reappears in the narrative (1 Sam. 7:3), he is calling on the people to “return to the Lord” and to “put away” their foreign gods. In other words, it appears that when the crisis of 2 Samuel 4 happened, rather than turn to the Lord and Samuel, Israel turned to false gods! This technique of gapping used by the author causes the thoughtful reader to question Samuel’s absence and to read 2 Samuel 7 in light of the comments in 2 Samuel 3:19-21 and 2 Samuel 4:1.
The Danger of Interpreting Gaps in Biblical Narrative
Gaps can be dangerous!
Because gaps naturally create curiosity, it is always tempting to provide an explanation for them. Before attempting to explain a gap we should ask several important questions. First, is the gap due to our lack of historical or cultural knowledge? If so, it is not an intentional gap created by the biblical author and we should be cautious about offering explanations for something we don’t have enough information on.
Second, is the gap important to the story, or is it there because the details would be superfluous to the story? In other words, does the gap exist because the author has no interest in pursuing that particular aspect or detail? If this is the case, then we must consider that it may be a waste of our time to pursue something that the biblical author did not care to illuminate. Some bible studies fall into the habit of attempting to answer questions that the Bible itself is not concerned about, and that ultimately we can never know the answer to. This is a great waste of time and energy because we can miss what the author is really wanting to communicate and chase rabbit trails that, in the long run, are meaningless.
Third, if we discern that the author has intentionally left a gap so that we will dig deeper into the text, we must still be careful to ask the right questions. Using the example above about Samuel is a case in point. While we can observe that there is a gap in Samuel’s life story, the questions we ask about this observation are important. If we ask, “Where was Samuel all those years?” and then seek to answer that question by making guesses about his whereabouts (maybe he went to prophet school, etc.), we miss the point. The important question is not, “Where was Samuel?”, a question we can never answer, but “Why does the author choose to omit Samuel from the story?” When we ask the correct question about a gap, we then have the opportunity to go deeper into the text.
Speculation vs. interpretation of facts
How do we know if we are asking the right questions? The real test as to whether the question is helpful or not is to ask where it leads. Does the question lead us back to the text to search for clues that will provide an answer, or does the question cause us to speculate about what “might have happened” without anyway of proving it one way or the other? If we are seeking to understand the Bible, then questions that lead us to investigate the text and find answers in the text, are good questions. Conversely, questions that lead us away from the text and prompt us to come up with imaginary solutions (even if the solutions are reasonable), are not good “Bible study” questions. The difference can be summed up in two words: interpretation vs. speculation. Interpretation involves filling in gaps by looking at clues in the text. Speculation involves our imagination about what might have happened. To give an example of speculation that leads to bad biblical interpretation, I once read a Genesis commentary that blamed Sarah for Abram’s trip to Egypt (Gen. 12:10)! The text gives absolutely no indication that Sarah prompted Abram to move to Egypt because of the famine in Canaan. Now we might speculate that Sarah did so, but that is just our imagination at work. Whether Sarah did or didn’t can never be known. All we know is what the text says and it only focuses on Abram. It seems to me that a great injustice is done to Sarah by blaming her for what the text infers was Abram’s mistake! This same kind of mistake happens frequently in bible-study groups and Sunday school classes. We often drift from the text and end up discussing endless possibilities of what “might have happened.”
Rocky Balboa was Right!
“She’s got gaps, I’ve got gaps, together we fill gaps.”
One of Rocky’s famous lines is, “She’s got gaps, I’ve got gaps, together we fill gaps.” Gaps are indeed a fact of life, especially when it comes to telling a story! My hope is that this article helps us to appreciate the gaps that exist in biblical narrative and provides a constructive approach to them. There are different kinds of gaps–some intentional, some unintentional. Together we can “fill gaps” but it is important to ask the right kinds of questions if we desire a deeper understanding of biblical stories.
(For further information on gaps, see my book Family Portraits. For an example of gap-filling that attempts to follow biblical clues, see my treatment of Abiathar in chapter 8 pp. 92-94.)
The Pooh Principle: Violence in the Old Testament Part 8
I should make one thing clear from the start. When I use the word “pooh” I am not speaking of the cuddly bear that we all know and love from the childhood stories created by A. A. Milne, and later popularized in animated form by Walt Disney. No, rather than using the harsh sounding “poop” common in the American vernacular, I am using that gentler form of the word as expressed by my English friends. Poop is what Americans find in their children’s dirty diapers, pooh, on the other hand, is what the English find in their children’s dirty nappies. Although it may be an unpleasant subject to dwell on, pooh provides a good introduction and analogy for this installment of Violence in the Old Testament.
photo from http://www.disneybaby.com/blog/laugh-of-the-day-self-professed-worlds-best-father/
As a father, I could theoretically choose to never change a dirty nappy (diaper). I could let my young child go through its early life laying in the mess that it created. Of course, this would certainly raise objections by others, but first and foremost, it would suggest that I am not a very loving or caring father. On the other hand, as a loving father I would certainly choose to change my child’s nappy no matter how often he filled it with pooh. Neither the frequency nor the quantity would prevent me from performing the loving duty of a father. Furthermore, even though I didn’t make the pooh, and am in no way responsible for its production, yet I would still choose to remove it. Part of the hazards of the removal process may mean that I end up smelling like pooh, and even get some on me. This might cause people to misjudge me. Perhaps they will think I stink, or perhaps they will spot some pooh on me and assert that I am a filthy, unwashed, walking lump of bacteria. Nevertheless, as a loving father, I will persist in removing the pooh.
Although this analogy may have its limitations, and I hope that I will not be considered irreverent in using it, it is a somewhat light-hearted way of introducing a very serious topic. If we draw parallels to the story above, then God is the loving father and the pooh is sin. Just as a father chooses to change a dirty diaper, so God has chosen, in His love, to deal with our sin. God didn’t make the sin, nor is He responsible for its presence in our world, but He has chosen to deal with it and remove it. As a result, God takes the chance of smelling like sin, and even getting sin on Himself. Consequently, people may misjudge God and attribute things to Him that are not actually true. Allow me to explain how this analogy reveals an important biblical truth about God and sin.
War and Salvation History
Let me begin by noting that the story of the Bible presents a certain view of history. The story is all about God acting in history to bring salvation to a world lost in sin. German theologians have coined a certain phrase to express this idea: Heilsgeschichte, which simply means “salvation history.” Although God can and does work in miraculous ways through nature, according to the Bible, He has also chosen to work in and through human beings who are sinful and imperfect in order to save them. Therefore, if God is going to do anything in this world, He is going to do it in the context of a sinful environment.
One of humankind’s worse sins is War. War is a great evil and war, bloodshed, and enmity between people are all a result of sin. “War appears to be an ever present reality of historical existence, both ancient and modern” (Peter Craigie, The Problem of War in the Old Testament, p. 43). Therefore, if God is going to work in human history, then He must stand in some kind of relationship to war.
As an example, let’s look at World War II. For many years while Hitler took control of Europe, consigned Jews to concentration camps, and bombed Britain, America stayed neutral and did not enter the war. Many Europeans thought that it was immoral for America to allow Hitler to commit the atrocities he did without taking a stand against him. Following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, American finally joined the war effort against Nazi Germany and Japan and together the allied forces defeated tyranny.
Someone standing aloof from history could make the judgment that it was immoral of America to idly stand by, as some Europeans did. On the other hand, another person might argue that war is always wrong and it was, therefore, immoral for America to enter the war. Atheists use similar arguments against God. God can be accused of letting people and nations get away with the worst crimes. What a terrible God who allows evil to run rampant in our world. However, as soon as God is pictured in the Scripture as a Warrior, He is accused by these same atheists of being a moral monster! The point is simple: God can no more idly stand by than America could during World War II. War is a fact of our existence; a terrible fact, yes, but anyone who gets involved in our world will not be untainted by it. Craigie therefore concludes: “We perceive, though not always clearly, that war is a form of evil human activity in which God participates actively for the purposes of both redemption and judgment; in this participation, God is the Warrior” (The Problem of War in the OT, p. 43).
The fact is, God’s participation in war makes God look bad. It can even make God look morally bankrupt, but God is willing to take that chance in order to save sinful human beings. Greg Boyd puts it this way: “God in his love, appears as ugly as our ugly hearts require him to be, and as beautiful as our redeemed hearts allow him to be” (Greg Boyd “How Do You Reconcile the wrath of God in the Old Testament with a Loving God?” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5CkCGR9YI4). This same idea is asserted in Scripture. In 2 Samuel 22:26-27 (which parallels Ps. 18:25-26) David states, “With the merciful You will show Yourself merciful; with the blameless man You will show Yourself blameless; with the pure You will show Yourself pure; and with the devious You will show Yourself shrewd” (NKJV). A lot depends on one’s point of view!
What God and Nanny McPhee Have in Common
Boyd illustrates the above idea by referencing the movie “Nanny McPhee.” In the movie, a young father (Colin Firth), following the death of his wife, is at his wits end in dealing with his seven rebellious children. Nanny McPhee arrives in order to instill obedience and respect for authority. When the children first meet her she is the ugliest old hag imaginable. However, as the children learn respect and obedience, Nanny McPhee’s ugly features begin to disappear, until, by the end of the movie, she morphs into the lovely Emma Thompson! The point is that Nanny McPhee was never ugly, she was only perceived that way by the rebellious children. When the children have their, shall we call it “sin,” dealt with, they see Nanny McPhee for the beautiful, loving person she really is.
War, and other sin, can make God look pretty ugly because of His choice to participate in our world. This idea has Scriptural precedent. Isaiah says the following about the suffering servant: “He has no form or comeliness; and when we see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him. He is despised and rejected by men…Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him…and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all” (Isa. 53:2-6). The apostle Paul writes: “For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Cor. 5:21). Indeed, these Scriptures affirm, that like the loving father who is willing to smell like pooh and even get some on him, our Savior was willing to take on our sin. It made Him look unattractive, it even caused people to misjudge Him, according to Isaiah, but He did it for love’s sake. It was our mess, but He took responsibility for cleaning it up.
Once we realize the tremendous love expressed through Christ’s death on the cross, just like Nanny McPhee, He no longer appears unattractive and revolting, but He becomes the most beautiful Being in all of Creation. It depends on our point of view. The atheists see an ugly God because their vision is clouded by their own rebellion, but if they were to submit to His cleansing power, their vision would be transformed and they would see the Lord in all of His beauty (Ps. 27:4).
What do the biblical books of Genesis, Joshua, 1&2 Kings, Nehemiah, Matthew, John, and Acts all have in common? At the most basic level, they are all narratives––stories about God’s interactions with people. As every reader of the Bible is aware, many other biblical books fall into this same category. Indeed, narrative material composes more than half of the Bible. Even some books whose main genre is something other than narrative (e.g., prophetic books which contain large amounts of poetry), still contain narrative (e.g., Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Hosea). This means that one of the major ways in which God decided to communicate with people is through the medium of story. Perhaps this is because everyone loves a good story, and because stories can be understood by people of all ages (although at different levels of meaning, depending on maturity). Because much of the Bible is presented in story form, this means that it contains all of the elements of a good story including: plot, characters, and a narrator’s voice. People often read the Bible without giving any thought to these, and other, ingredients of a good story. However, this article will attempt to show how paying careful attention to such details can provide a deeper understanding of biblical narrative. Specifically we will look at the critical role played by the narrator of a biblical text, and how identifying the biblical narrator’s voice can clarify a story, or even help prevent a misinterpretation. After discussing a few observations about the narrator in biblical stories, we will look at the story of Saul’s death related in 1 Samuel 31 and 2 Samuel 1. The two different versions of how Saul died has often confused people. Once we understand the role and function of the biblical narrator a solution to this problem will be more evident.
In popular books, the narrator is often a device used by an author to tell a story. Therefore, the narrator and the author are usually two different people, unless it is clear that the author is telling the story in first person (I, we, me, etc.). Similarly, biblical narrative is usually told in the third person (he, she, they, or using a proper name such as “Moses said to God,” etc.). The Book of Nehemiah and the “we” sections of the Book of Acts are among the rare exceptions to this rule. “The narrator is a device used by authors to shape and guide how the reader responds to the characters and events of the story.” It is important to note that the biblical narrator “gives the impression of an all-knowing mind…a mind that in the context of the canon must be associated with God himself” (Tremper Longman III, “Biblical Narrative,” A Complete Literary Guide to the Bible, p. 75). If the narrator’s point of view can be equated with God’s, then this means that statements by the narrator are always true. “Thus any statement made by the narrator about a character or event should be accepted as factual. If it stands in contradiction to a statement made by another character, then we can know that this character is lying, deceived, or misinformed” (see my discussion in Family Portraits, p. 9), or that the biblical author has some purpose in the apparent contradiction (see my article “How many sons did Absalom have?”). Understanding the role of the biblical narrator can be crucial for correctly interpreting a passage, and the story of Saul’s death in 1 Samuel 31 and 2 Samuel 1, provides us with an excellent opportunity to put this knowledge into practice.
According to the biblical narrator in 1 Sam. 31, Saul took his own life.
In 1 Samuel 31:1-5 we read of the death of Saul and his sons. Verse 3 informs us that Saul was wounded by the Philistine archers. In verse 4 Saul pleads with his armorbearer to kill him, but he is too afraid to strike Saul and so Saul falls on his own sword. Verse 5 reads, “And when his armorbearer saw that Saul was dead, he also fell on his sword, and died with him” (NKJV). Notice that verse 5 confirms Saul’s death in two ways. First, the armorbearer “saw that Saul was dead,” and second, the armorbearer killed himself the same way that Saul had and, therefore, “died with him” (my emphasis). Before looking at the description of Saul’s death in 2 Samuel 1, it is important to notice that the account of Saul’s death in 1 Samuel 31 is told by the biblical narrator. Based on our observations above about the narrator, this account should be viewed as a factual report of what happened. Indeed, there would be no reason to doubt it, if it were not for the fact that the story in 2 Samuel 1 seems to contradict it.
2 Samuel 1 rehearses the story of Saul’s death from David’s point of view. David has just returned from rescuing his wives and the families of his soldiers from the hands of the Amalekites (compare 1 Sam. 30 and 2 Sam. 1:1). David is in southern Judah in the town of Ziklag, which is a 3 day journey from the battlefield where Saul died (1 Sam. 30:1; 2 Sam. 1:2). A messenger comes to David to inform him that Israel has been defeated and Saul and Jonathan have been slain (2 Sam. 1:4). When David presses the messenger on how he can be sure that Saul and Jonathan are dead (1 Sam. 1:5), the young man relates the following story. He says that he was on Mount Gilboa and saw that Saul was badly wounded. It is what he relates next, however, that causes the reader to have what I refer to as a, “wait a minute” moment. Such a moment happens when what was previously read doesn’t seem to match the events of the current story. When the young man, who identifies himself as an Amalekite (2 Sam. 2:8), says that Saul asked him to kill him, we are reminded of Saul’s request of his armorbearer in 1 Samuel 31:4. When the Amalekite says that he complied with Saul’s request and killed him, we remember that Saul’s armorbearer had refused to do the same deed. These similarities are interesting and should cause a reader to compare the two accounts of Saul’s death. The real problem comes when we recall that the armorbearer had confirmed Saul’s death and then died beside him. Furthermore, the narrator never mentioned anything about an Amalekite being present at Saul’s death. On the other hand, the Amalekite has a pretty convincing story too because, he has Saul’s crown and bracelet in his possession (2 Sam. 1:10).
Therefore, who should we believe, or could both accounts somehow be true? Some commentators, attempt to harmonize the two stories by combining them. They reason that maybe Saul wasn’t completely dead (inspite of what the narrator says!), and that the Amalekite found him and finished him off. But this explanation has its own problems. For example, after stabbing himself, and his armorbearer believing he was dead (1 Sam. 31:5), did Saul really get back up off of the ground and lean on his spear (2 Sam. 1:6)? This would have to be the case for the Amalekite’s version to be accurate. Such details make the two stories difficult to harmonize.
Intentional Contradictions and the Danger of Artificial Harmonization
When a Bible-believer encounters what appears to be a contradiction in Scripture, the first impulse is to think of a rational explanation for it. Can the two passages be harmonized in some way? Can some other external circumstances explain away the contradiction? However, there are several problems with such attempts at harmonization. Forcing a harmonization can be like trying to fit a square block into a round hole. No matter how hard we try it doesn’t fit, but somehow we try to convince ourselves that it does! Second, whenever we consider “external circumstances” that are outside of the text, as a way of explaining the contradiction, we stop interpreting the text itself and enter the world of speculation. The world of speculation is a dangerous world because, by definition, it is something that cannot be proven. The problem with speculation is that one theory is as good as another. When we seek an explanation outside of the text, there are no longer any guidelines that confirm one explanation to be better than another. And let’s face it, sometimes speculation can lead to some bizarre explanations. However one might seek to defend speculation on a difficult passage, the biggest problem about trying to force an artificial harmonization is that we might be destroying the very thing that the biblical author intended! If the author intends for us to see a contradiction, then explaining it away will certainly lead to a wrong interpretation of the passage.
The Biblical Narrator and the Amalekite
The Amalekite’s version of Saul’s death contradicts the biblical narrator’s version.
Recognizing that each account of Saul’s death employs a different speaker is the real solution to the problem. Is there a contradiction? Yes there is, but it is a purposeful contradiction. We have already established that the biblical narrator relates the first account of Saul’s death in 1 Samuel 31, whereas, it is the Amalekite who speaks in 2 Samuel 1. Since we have agreed that the biblical narrator always tells the truth, and since it is obvious that the passages are contradictory, then the Amalekite must, in this instance, be lying. He cannot simply be misinformed or deceived because he holds Saul’s crown and bracelet in his hands. Therefore he knows that Saul was already dead when he came upon him on the battlefield.
This conclusion is further confirmed by the biblical characterization of the Amalekites who are constantly portrayed as Israel’s enemies (e.g., Exod. 17:8-16; Deut. 25:17-19; Judg. 6:3). Moreover, Saul had previously been charged with destroying the Amalekites (1 Sam. 15:2-3) in order to fulfill what God had spoken about them in Exodus 17:14 and Deut. 25:17-19. In this same story, Samuel refers to the Amalekites as “sinners” (1 Sam. 15:18). It should also not be forgotten that David had just returned from slaughtering the Amalekites because they had burned his town and carried away all of the women and children (1 Sam. 30; 2 Sam. 1:1). Therefore, the wider biblical context, as well as the immediate context within the books of Samuel, consistently portrays the Amalekites as the enemies of Israel. The negative depiction of Amalekites in Scripture provides further evidence that the Amalekite lied to David and his men. This is additionally confirmed in 2 Samuel 4:10 where David refers back to this incident and claims the Amalekite was looking for a reward (NKJV). David’s exposure of the Amalekite’s motive further unmasks his lie. This conclusion also highlights the problem of attempting to harmonize the two accounts. Are we really to take the word of an Amalekite “sinner” and combine it with, or believe it instead of, the infallible biblical narrator?
When all of this evidence is digested it becomes clear that it would be a grave mistake to harmonize the two accounts of Saul’s death. The biblical author has deliberately set two contradictory stories side by side (This is another indication that the contradiction is deliberate; the story of Saul’s death is still fresh on our minds when we hear the Amalekite’s version.). He uses the biblical narrator to present the real facts and follows it up with the contradictory story by the Amalekite. Why does the biblical author do it this way instead of simply telling us that the Amalekite was lying? First, it makes for a much more artful telling of the story. The reader must do some detective work to arrive at the correct conclusion. Second, the contradiction causes the reader to pause and reread both accounts. This not only encourages meditation on the two passages, but it makes the irony of an Amalekite reporting Saul’s death all the more delicious. Third, it contributes to a common theme in the books of Samuel which can be referred to as “looks can be deceiving.” The Amalekite “appears” to have killed Saul, after all, he has his crown and bracelet. In this story the “looks can be deceiving” theme backfires on the Amalekite. His deception ends up costing him his own life.
In conclusion, if we try to force these two passages to harmonize, we not only miss the art of the biblical author, we also miss the important messages he sought to convey. Therefore, we should be cautious about “solving” what appears to be a contradiction in the text before examining other possibilities. It may be that the biblical author has deliberately allowed a contradiction to occur in order to communicate a certain message.
