Chapter 8 of Provan, Long, and Longman’s book, A Biblical History of Israel, focuses on the early united monarchy under Saul, the first king of Israel, and then David. The bulk of chapter 8 is essentially a lesson on how to read I/II Samuel, as well as the corresponding parts of I Chronicles. Although, as always, there isn’t a terrible amount of archeological evidence for this time in Israel’s history, what there is, is rather convincing.
Opening Matters
The first thing Provan addresses is something most people who’ve read the Old Testament have probably wondered at one point or another: What’s the point of I/II Chronicles? It basically covers much of the same material in I/II Samuel and I/II Kings. The answer is actually quite simple. Provan argues that they should be viewed as synoptic histories (or “paintings” of Israel’s history) that were written at different times and were answering different questions. Samuel-Kings is part of the Deuteronomistic History and was compiled during the Babylonian Exile. The basic question these books were answering was this: “Why are we in the Exile? Have God’s promises to our fathers and to David failed?” And why were the Jews in the Babylonian Exile? “Simple,” Samuel-Kings says, “just look at your history! You’ve been screwing up and breaking God’s covenant from the very beginning!”
By contrast, Chronicles was written after the Babylonian Exile, after the Jews had returned to the Promised Land and found themselves really struggling to re-establish themselves. The basic question they were facing was, “Is God still interested in us? Are the covenants still in force?” The answer Chronicles is that of course God is still interested in them! He loves them! All they have to do is look back to the devotion of kings like David, Solomon, Hezekiah, and Josiah! Those who are devoted to God and take care of His Temple will be blessed!
That is why Chronicles foregoes much of the negative things that Samuel-Kings brings up. Samuel-Kings is like a rude slap in the face and harsh dose of reality. Chronicles, though, is a half-time pep talk to a team that has just gotten its butt kicked in the first half. Both are covering Israel’s history, but each one is shaping the story in a different way to address the questions of their respective audiences.
The next thing Provan addresses is how scholars tend to focus on speculating on the original settings for what they say are the three original independent narratives in I Samuel: the story of Samuel, the story of Saul, and the story of David’s rise to power. Provan writes, “Unfortunately, many attempts to divine originally independent sources in the biblical texts have been so intent on dividing things up that they have spent insufficient time discerning whatever narrative coherence may already exist in the extant text” (264). This reflects something I’ve had a problem with ever since my early graduate school days. Yes, speculating on the origins of possible source material is a valid academic exercise, but when it comes right down to it, what we have is a whole book, and entire text, that has been put together for its own reasons—everything should be done with the intent of understanding what the text before us means, not what a hypothetical text written in a speculated historical context might have meant to the possible original audience.
Provan also touches upon a few historical questions that crop up when reading Samuel-Kings. One interesting thing to note is that in II Kings 9-10 we are told that Jehu is anointed by Elisha to become the next king of Israel, and that he proceeds to kill King Joram of Israel, as well as King Ahaziah of Judah. Yet the Tel Dan Stela, we find that King Hazael of Aram claimed to have killed Joram and Ahaziah. So, who killed them? Provan states that people in power often claim credit for deeds that other accomplish, and therefore concludes that Hazael eventually took credit for what Jehu had done.
In any case, there are two fixed dates that line up with what we find in the Assyrian annals that help scholars map out the entire timeline of Old Testament history. We know that the Battle of Qarqar in which Assyria fought against a coalition from Syro-Palestine of which King Ahab of Israel was involved took place in 853 BC. In addition, we know that King Jehu of Israel paid tribute to Shalmaneser III of Assyria in 841 BC. Based on those two fixed dates, scholars are able to take the reigning dates of the various kings of Judah and Israel found in I/II Kings and reconstruct the entire chronological timeline of the ancient kingdoms of Israel and Judah.
Samuel and Saul: I Samuel 1-14
Most of Provan’s chapter focuses on the literary way in which I/II Samuel is put together. The first part of I Samuel (chapters 1-7) tells of the birth of Samuel, his being raised by Eli at Shiloh, the loss and recovering of the Ark of the Covenant, and Samuel’s eventual rise as prophet and judge. Although some scholars have tried to argue that the Ark Narrative in 4-6 was originally an independent text that was only inserted into the Samuel story at a later time, Provan makes a convincing argument that these chapters are a vital part of the unity of I Samuel 1-7. Simply put, there is a clear narrative arc that runs throughout the entire section: I Samuel 3:19-21 looks forward to the future of Samuel’s life, chapters 4-6 tell of how the faithlessness of Israel brings about the conflict of losing the Ark of the Covenant, I Samuel 7:1-2 tells of the Ark’s return, and then after 20 years, I Samuel 7:3 tells of Samuel’s rise to prominence.
And all that, I would argue, serves as the foundation for understanding the roles of the Ark and the prophets play in the upcoming monarchy that is first introduced in I Samuel 8. The question of the monarchy also raises questions. Some scholars note that I Samuel 8-14 is historically unreliable because it reflects conflicting attitudes among the people of Israel in regard to the idea of a monarchy. Provan argues the exact opposite is true—conflicting attitudes is what one would expect: “Obviously, a political change as momentous as the introduction of kingship would not have taken place without controversy, and, more to the point from the perspective of the narrative, the manner in which the elders demanded a king would not have met with universal approval” (278).
Perhaps one of the most perplexing things found in I Samuel 8 is how it seems that Saul is made king…twice. Upon first reading, these chapters seem like a jumbled mess—what’s going on? Provan points to the work of Baruch Halpern to help understand the literary structure of these chapters. Essentially, Halpern argues that one needs to recognize three stages when it comes to the rise of a leader: (1) First, there is the designation of an individual for a leadership role. This is what we find in the events leading up to Saul’s anointing (9:1-10:16). (2) Second, there is the demonstration, when that individual would be expected to demonstrate his status and prowess by engaging in some feat of arms or military action. This is seen in Saul’s rescue of Jabesh-gilead from the Ammonites (11:1-13). (3) Finally, there is the confirmation, when that individual, having proven himself worthy, is publicly confirmed as leader. This is what we find when Saul is introduced as king (11:14-15)…sort of, but not really.
The problem comes in when one deals with 10:17-27, when Saul is proclaimed king at Mizpah, but is hiding among the baggage. Simply put, it’s not a good first impression. Why? Halpern argues that it is because what we find in 10:5-16 is Saul’s failure to demonstrate his worthiness to become king. In 10:5-7, Samuel told Saul to go Gibeath-elohim, where there was a Philistine outpost, and “do what your hand finds to do, for God is with you”—i.e. attack the Philistines as a demonstration of his worthiness of his designation. After that, Saul was to go to Gilgal and wait seven days for Samuel for his confirmation. Of course, Saul doesn’t do that. He doesn’t attack the garrison, but just goes home. And so, when he is presented at Mizpah in 10:17-27, we not only find him hiding, but we also find Israel not too impressed. Why? Because Saul hasn’t demonstrated that he is worthy to be the king. He makes up for that failure a bit in 11:1-13, when he rescues Jabesh-gilead from the Ammonites. It is after that when we find Samuel calling the people to Gilgal in 11:14-15 for a partial confirmation of Saul. Think of it as Saul being on probation.
Samuel then warns in 12:1-15 that a test remains and says that a king and the people must prove themselves faithful to YHWH. That demonstration comes in 13:1-3, when Jonathan (Saul’s son) strikes the Philistine garrison (like Saul should have done in 10:5-7). Saul then goes to Gilgal and waits for Samuel for seven days (again, like he should have done in 10:5-7), but when Samuel is late, Saul panics and does the sacrifices himself. Thus, his faithlessness and fear (both times) leads to Samuel withholding the full confirmation of Saul as king. He’s not worthy—he’s proved that twice. And so, Samuel will search for another king.
The Rise and Reign of David: I Samuel 15-II Samuel 24
In terms of historicity, although there was a time when scholars doubted that there ever was a kingdom of David, there is now a number of pieces of archeological evidence that serve as proof that David was a historical person and that the kingdom of David is a historical reality.
- (1) The Tel Dan Stela, dated to the latter half of 9th century, mentions the house of David: “I killed Jerhoram son of Ahab king of Israel, and I killed Ahaziahu son of Jehoram king of the house of David”
- (2) The Mesha Stela, a Moabite Stone also dated to the latter half of 9th century, also mentions the house of David: “And the house of David dwelt in Horonen…and Kamosh [Chemosh] said to me: ‘Go down! Fight against Horonen.’”
- (3) The Shoshenq I Inscription, dated to fifty years after David, mentions “highlands of David”
In addition, Provan discusses other bits of archeological evidence that suggest that Jerusalem was inhabited in the 10th century BC. The Amarna Letters (14th century BC) refer to Jerusalem, thus we can conclude it was a significant city at the time. Provan also mentions a palace complex in the Ophel district of Jerusalem that might possibly be David’s palace. The monumental architecture is dated to the 10th century BC. All in all, Provan acknowledges that while archeology cannot decisively prove the existence of David’s kingdom, but it can certainly demonstrate “reasonable probabilities.”
The problem is that most of us have an idea of the Davidic empire as almost like some sort of massive world empire. Provan points out that the reality is that both David and Solomon’s kingdoms were rather small mini-empires in comparison to the major players on the world stage. In fact, Provan suggests that we read our ideas of “an empire” into the biblical text, when, in fact, the Bible doesn’t really ascribe an empire to David. Yes, he wins battles. Yes, he “humbles” the Philistines, but he doesn’t subjugate them; he reduces Moab, Aram, Edom, and Ammon to tributary status, but he doesn’t subjugate them either. In short, the kingdom of David (and later Solomon) was more of a smaller kingdom, a “big dog on a small block,” so to speak, than of a massive empire.
Most of Provan’s discussion about David is regarding whether or not the tradition in the Bible is an accurate reflection of the historical David. Some scholars attempt to argue that what we find in the Bible is a ideological white-washing of David as a noble, God-fearing king, when in reality, he was a horrible, power-hungry, murderous serial killer. The point to the fact that since David benefitted from some of the deaths mentioned in I/II Samuel (i.e. Saul, Abner, Ishbosheth), despite the text saying he had nothing to do with those deaths, he really was behind them. They argue that you simply can’t trust what the text says, and sine the text says David was innocent of those deaths, that must mean he was really guilty of them.
Needless to say, Provan questions whether or not that degree of skepticism is warranted. After all, it isn’t like I/II Samuel point a glowing portrait of David. There is his affair with Bathsheba, his arranging the killing of Uriah, and his obvious failures as a father. Simply put, the biblical text doesn’t whitewash David at all. In fact, it depicts a very complex, very real, and very believable portrait of David, both the noble parts as well as the warts. As Provan puts it, “Whether it be the story of Samuel as a transitional figure on the eve of the monarchy, or the story of Saul’s faltering rise to become Israel’s first king, or the story of David’s early achievements and his eventual replacement of Saul, or the story of David’s moral failure and its consequences, we have discovered stories that not only are wonderfully told, but also have a ring of truth about them.”
Two Final Notes—About Goliath
In the midst of this chapter, Provan touches upon two interesting points regarding the David and Goliath story. The first thing is in regard to Saul’s reaction to David’s defeat of Goliath. Given the fact that David had already been in Saul’s court and had played the harp for Saul, it seems extremely odd that Saul seemingly did not know who David was, when he asks in I Samuel 17:55, “Whose son is this man?” Some scholars point to this as proof that there various David legends that were simply stitched together in I Samuel. Hence, the obvious contradiction. Provan, though, argues that it isn’t a contradiction at all. Saul’s question isn’t “Who is the guy who killed Goliath?” but rather, “Who is this guy’s father?” Saul asks this because he had already promised in 17:25 to not only enrich the man who kills Goliath, and give the king’s daughter in marriage to the man, but also to free the house of the man who defeats Goliath. And so, what we see in 17:55 is Saul asking whose David’s father is, so that Saul could exempt the house of Jesse from any further obligations to the king.
The second thing is the apparent contradiction in II Samuel 21:19, where we are told that it was Elhanan, a Bethlehemite, who killed Goliath the Gittite. To make matters even more confusing, I Chronicles 20:5 claim that Elhanan killed Lahmi, the brother of Goliath the Gittite. Provan notes that the Hebrew in I Samuel is not among the best preserved in the Bible and speculates that perhaps I Chronicles 20:5 preserves the original reading. The fact that the word “Bethlehemite” in Hebrew differs only slightly from the word “Lahmi” further suggests that what we find in II Samuel 21:19 is a scribal error.
What you write about modern scholars dissecting the text is right on the money. Rather than study the text “as it is,” they attempt to dissect it to find out which parts are authentic, and which parts are merely “artistic license.” And it seems they typically begin with the assumption that a given biblical text *must* not be accurate/authentic, then seek to prove it.This practice really went off the rails in regards to the NT gospels.
I’m definitely going to order this book.
Pax.
Lee.