And David heard in the wilderness that Nabal did shear his sheep.

Nabal, the churl

David never made a wiser choice, and he never said a truer thing, than when he exclaimed, “Let me fall now into the hand of the Lord (for His mercies are great), and let me not fall into the hand of man.” The history of David’s collision with Nabal furnishes us with a twofold confirmation of the truth of David’s assertion and the wisdom of his decision. David, in a season of feebleness, sought to rest himself upon Nabal’s gratitude, and he found that be was trusting in the staff of a broken reed which pierced him. In his necessity he made an appeal to Nabal’s generosity, and he found it was as vain as trying to quench his thirst with the waters of Marah. On the other hand, Nabal’s ingratitude and unkindness met with no charity at first on the part of David. While Nabal was utterly destitute of brotherly kindness, David failed for a time in the love which is not easily provoked. “Whether it be for the relief of our necessities, or for the pardon of our transgressions, let us fall now into the hand of the Lord, for His mercies are great.” Everything around Nabal was calculated to make him a happy, thankful, sweet-tempered, and kindhearted man. He had good blood in his veins; and by the memories of his noble and godly ancestor he ought to have been restrained from all that was mean and graceless. The inspired writer alludes be his ancestry as if that increased the guilt of his conduct. “he was of the house of Caleb;” but he was a bad branch growing out of a good stock, for “he was churlish and evil in his doings.” Alas! he was neither the first nor the last of those who have come into possession of many of the temporal results of their fathers’ piety, but have shamefully repudiated the godliness which brought the golden harvest. The Bible makes the nobleness of a man’s ancestry one more reason why he should serve the Lord and cleave to Him with full purpose of heart. The prophet Jeremiah went with words of sharp rebuke and heavy condemnation to one who was proving himself a degenerate son of a godly sire, “Did not thy father eat, and drink, and do judgment and justice, and then it was well with him? But thine eyes and thine heart are not but for thy covetousness, and for oppression, and for violence, to do it.” Nabal had what many would deem a far more substantial reason for personal goodness than the fact that he belonged to the house of Caleb. The wealth which had come down to him had evidently been increased by the Divine blessing on his own endeavours, and he stood forth conspicuous above all his neighbours for the splendour and luxury with which he could surround himself. “The man was very great,” but his prosperity hardened his heart and filled his spirit with haughtiness. The arrogance of spirit, and coarseness of speech, and niggardliness of heart, which Nabal displayed, were unmistakable proofs that in his prosperity he had forgotten the God to whom he was indebted for it. Hence that which should have made his lowliness to grow and blossom like a lily of the valley, did only serve to make his poisonous pride flourish like the deadly nightshade, and that which should have filled him with grateful love to God and generous love to men, only helped to increase his self-indulgence and his self-idolatry. There was another reason why better things might have been reasonably expected of Nabal. God had given him a true help-meet--a woman who, if he had yielded to her influence, would have done much to lift him out of his roughness and wickedness into refinement and godliness. It is one of the marvels of human nature that some rough and selfish men can live for year after year in fellowship with gentle and self-denying women, and yet be no more impressed and improved by them than the dead heart of Absalom was moved by the tears and wailings of his disconsolate father. If such men die impenitent and unpardoned, surely for them condemnation will be heavy and perdition will be deep! David was in danger of perishing for lack of a little of that of which Nabal had such an abundance, and therefore the appeal for relief was sent. Amongst the Jews, and other Eastern peoples, the time of sheep shearing was commonly the season of special liberality. Beside the force of good old customs, there was another reason why on that particular day David’s solicitation was seasonable. It was partly on the ground that his men had been guardians of the flocks that David rested his appeal, and there could not be a better time for that appeal than the season when the flocks were counted and the fleeces were gathered. Many have thought that the prudence and policy of David’s conduct, were more obvious than its dignity. Did he not in some measure demean himself, they ask, by setting forth so fully the services he had rendered? It is not usual, they say, be do a man a good turn, and then to go and tell him all about it, and ask for some grateful recognition of it. Before we blame David for being undignified, let us try to realize his position and his temptations, he must have been in great straits, or he would never have sent in such a way to a man like Nabal. There are people whom you cannot fully know until you ask them for something. While no direct appeal is made to their supposed benevolence, their real character is masked; but the moment you press them to be generous, despite all their efforts to wear it still, the severing drops off, and they stand forth in all their native unsightliness. To what a revelation of Nabal’s heart the prayer of David led! Nabal could not say it was the wrong day for charity, so he said this was a wrong case. Such people are never destitute of reasons for not giving, and are not ashamed to try and cover their niggardliness with excuses so flimsy that even the sight of a bat would be strong enough to pierce them. If he had been placed in circumstances like Abraham, and angels had come to partake of his hospitality, he would probably have cried out, “Give my bread and flesh to people with wings! What next, I wonder!” The provocation to David must have been great, and we are more grieved than surprised that at once his soul was all on fire with wrath. David forgot how much God had done for Nabal, what ingratitude God had received at Nabal’s hand, and yet how patiently God had borne with him for many years, and how lavishly God had blessed him despite all his guiltiness. We might have hoped that, instead of fostering human vengeance, David would have striven to imitate Divine long-suffering; but, the wisest men are not always wise, and the best men are not always consistent. The history shows, what is very credible, that Nabal was a great coward as well as a coarse blusterer. When he heard of David’s indignation “his heart died within him, and he became as a stone.” It would seem as if the weight of his own craven fears helped to sink him into the grave. Possibly his own cowardice was the instrument with which the Lord smote him; and the terrors of his guilty spirit were the disease of which he died. This much is certain, he perished for his sins. The very day wherein he refused relief to those who had befriended him, “he held a feast in his house like the feast of a king.” He was utterly wanting in meekness and gentleness, courtesy and kindness. He would indulge himself even to gluttony and drunkenness, and yet refused his bread to those who were ready to perish. His name has become imperishable by being written in the book which is to be translated into every tongue and read in every land; but the immortality which Scripture has given him is an immortality of infamy. (C. Vince.)

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