(25:10â11)
Nabal pretends heâs never heard of David, lumping him in with runaway slaves and vagabonds. Such insolence infuriates the messengers, and they turn on their heels and hurry back to David with a full report.
David doesnât need to hear the news twice. He tells the men to form a posse. Or, more precisely, âStrap on your swords!â (25:12 MSG)
Four hundred men mount up and take off. Eyes glare. Nostrils flare. Lips snarl. Testosterone flows. David and his troops thunder
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Olive branches do more good than battle-axes ever will.
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down on Nabal, the scoundrel, who obliviously drinks beer and eats barbecue with his buddies. The road rumbles as David grumbles, âMay God do his worst to me if Nabal and every cur in his misbegotten brood isnât dead meat by morning!â (25:22 MSG).
Hang on. Itâs the Wild West in the Ancient East.
Then, all of a sudden, beauty appears. A daisy lifts her head in the desert; a swan lands at the meat packing plant; a whiff of per-fume floats through the menâs locker room. Abigail, the wife of Nabal, stands on the trail. Whereas he is brutish and mean, she is âintelligent and good-lookingâ (25:3 MSG).
Brains and beauty. Abigail puts both to work. When she learns of Nabalâs crude response, she springs into action. With no word to her husband, she gathers gifts and races to intercept David. As David and his men descend a ravine, she takes her position, armed with âtwo hundred loaves of bread, two skins of wine, five sheep dressed out and ready for cooking, a bushel of roasted grain, a hundred raisin cakes, and two hundred fig cakes, . . . all loaded on some don-keysâ (25:18 MSG).
Four hundred men rein in their rides. Some gape at the food; others gawk at the female. Sheâs good lookinâ with good cookinâ, a combination that stops any army. (Picture a neck-snapping blonde showing up at boot camp with a truck full of burgers and ice cream.)
Abigailâs no fool. She knows the importance of the moment. She stands as the final barrier between her family and sure death. Falling at Davidâs feet, she issues a plea worthy of a paragraph in Scripture. âOn me, my lord, on me let this iniquity be! And please let your maidservant speak in your ears, and hear the words of your maid-servantâ (25:24).
She doesnât defend Nabal but agrees that he is a scoundrel. She begs not for justice but forgiveness, accepting blame when she deserves none. âPlease forgive the trespass of your maidservantâ (25:28). She offers the gifts from her house and urges David to leave Nabal to God and avoid the dead weight of remorse.
Her words fall on David like July sun on ice. He melts.
Blessed be God, the God of Israel. He sent you to meet me! . . . A close call! . . . if you had not come as quickly as you did, stopping me in my tracks, by morning there would have been nothing left of Nabal but dead meat. . . . Iâve heard what youâve said and Iâll do what youâve asked. (25:32â35 MSG)
David returns to camp. Abigail returns to Nabal. She finds him too drunk for conversation so waits until the next morning to describe how close David came to camp and Nabal came to death. âRight then and there he had a heart attack and fell into a coma. About ten days later God finished him off and he diedâ (25:37â38 MSG).
When David learns of Nabalâs death and Abigailâs sudden availability, he thanks God for the first and takes advantage of the second. Unable to shake the memory of the pretty woman in the middle of the road, he proposes, and she accepts. David gets a new wife, Abigail a new home, and we have a great principle: beauty can over-come barbarism.
Meekness saved the day that day. Abigailâs gentleness reversed a river of anger. Humility has such power. Apologies can disarm arguments. Contrition can defuse rage. Olive branches do more good than battle-axes
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