Commentary - 1 Samuel 20:24-34

Bird's-eye view

This passage is a masterpiece of dramatic tension, revealing the final, definitive rupture between Saul and David, with Jonathan caught squarely in the middle. The scene is a royal feast, a new moon festival, which ought to be a time of covenant renewal and fellowship. Instead, it becomes the stage for Saul's paranoia and murderous rage to boil over. The empty chair of David serves as a silent accusation, forcing the central conflict of the book into the open. Saul, the rejected king, can no longer tolerate the presence, or even the absence, of David, the anointed king. Jonathan, bound by covenant love to David and by filial duty to Saul, attempts to mediate but is met with a spear and a vile curse. The scene demonstrates the complete decay of Saul's house and heart. His kingship, which should be a source of order and justice, has become the epicenter of chaos, suspicion, and violence. Jonathan's grief and anger at the end are not just for his friend David, but for the dishonor his father has brought upon himself, his family, and the whole kingdom. This is a picture of a house dividing against itself, and it is doing so because it has set itself against the Lord's anointed.

The core of the conflict is a clash of loyalties. Saul demands a political loyalty that is absolute, a loyalty to his own failing dynasty. Jonathan, however, operates on a higher plane of loyalty, a covenantal faithfulness to David, whom he knows God has chosen. This is not treason; it is true piety. Jonathan chooses God's will over his father's madness, and in so doing, he shows himself to be a true son of the covenant, even as his father proves himself to be a son of Belial. The passage is a stark illustration of the principle that when human authority sets itself against divine authority, our duty is clear. It also foreshadows the great conflict between the King of this world and the true King, Jesus, where loyalty to Christ will necessarily divide families and upend earthly allegiances.

Outline

Context In 1 Samuel

This scene is the culmination of the escalating conflict between Saul and David. God has already rejected Saul as king for his disobedience (1 Sam 13, 15) and has secretly anointed David to take his place (1 Sam 16). David's subsequent military successes and immense popularity have ignited a paranoid jealousy in Saul, leading to multiple attempts on David's life (1 Sam 18-19). The only thing standing between David and Saul's wrath has been Jonathan, Saul's son and heir apparent. Jonathan, recognizing God's hand on David, has made a deep, covenantal bond with him (1 Sam 18:1-4; 20:12-17). This chapter follows directly after David and Jonathan have devised this test: David's absence at the new moon feast will gauge the true extent of Saul's murderous intent. The events at this table, therefore, are not accidental. They are the result of a carefully planned experiment to reveal what is truly in the king's heart. The outcome will confirm David's status as a fugitive and solidify Jonathan's allegiance to God's chosen king over his own father.

Key Issues

The Empty Chair

There is a powerful symbolism in David's empty chair. In the court of the king, every seat signifies a station, a role, a relationship to the central authority. David's place was one of honor; he was the king's son-in-law and the nation's greatest military hero. For that seat to be empty at a required religious festival was a profound statement. For Saul, it was an act of defiance, a challenge to his authority. But in the larger narrative, the empty chair represents the transfer of power that is already underway. The true king is absent from the court of the false king. The legitimacy is draining away from Saul's table and is consolidating around the man hiding in the field. Saul's kingdom is becoming an empty shell, a hollowed-out institution going through the religious motions while the Spirit of God has departed. The feast of the new moon was meant to be a celebration of God's covenant faithfulness to Israel. How ironic that it becomes the setting where Israel's king demonstrates his utter covenant-breaking faithlessness. He honors the festival with his presence but is ready to murder the man who is the future of that very covenant.

Verse by Verse Commentary

24 So David hid in the field; and when the new moon came, the king sat down to eat food.

The plan is set in motion. David, the Lord's anointed, is a fugitive, hiding in a field like a common criminal. Meanwhile Saul, the Lord's rejected, sits down to preside over a religious feast. The contrast is stark and intentional. One man is outwardly in the place of honor but inwardly is a cauldron of murderous intent. The other is outwardly in a place of dishonor but is inwardly trusting in the Lord and His covenant promises. The new moon festival was a required observance, a time for fellowship and worship. But for Saul, it is just an occasion, a tradition stripped of its meaning. He is about to profane this holy meal with unholy rage.

25 And the king sat on his seat as usual, the seat by the wall; then Jonathan rose up, and Abner sat down by Saul’s side, but David’s place was missing.

The seating arrangement is described with deliberate care. This was a formal state dinner. Saul is in his customary place of honor, "the seat by the wall." Abner, his cousin and the commander of his army, is beside him. Jonathan, the heir, takes his place. Everything is in its proper order, except for one glaring vacancy. David's place was "missing," or empty. The whole court would have noticed. The absence of the king's son-in-law and most famous general was not a small thing. The tension in the room must have been thick enough to cut with a knife.

26 Nevertheless Saul did not speak anything that day, for he said, “It is an accident; he is not clean; surely he is not clean.”

Saul's internal monologue is revealed. He holds his peace on the first day, reasoning that David must have incurred some form of ceremonial uncleanness which would have prohibited him from partaking in the sacred meal. This was a plausible excuse under the Mosaic law. But Saul's repetition, "surely he is not clean," hints at the suspicion already churning within him. He is trying to convince himself of a benign explanation, but the seed of paranoia is already sprouting. This is a man looking for an excuse not to explode, but the pressure is building.

27 Now it happened the next day, the second day of the new moon, that David’s place was missing; so Saul said to Jonathan his son, “Why has the son of Jesse not come to the meal, either yesterday or today?”

When David's seat is empty a second day, Saul's restraint shatters. Ceremonial uncleanness usually lasted only until evening. A two-day absence cannot be so easily explained away. The question is directed at Jonathan, as Saul rightly suspects a connection between his son and his rival. Notice the contemptuous way he refers to David: "the son of Jesse." He refuses to use his name or acknowledge him as his son-in-law. This is the language of alienation and disrespect, reducing David to his humble origins as if to delegitimize him.

28-29 Jonathan then answered Saul, “David earnestly asked leave of me to go to Bethlehem, and he said, ‘Please send me on my way, since our family has a sacrifice in the city, and my brother has commanded me to attend. So now, if I have found favor in your sight, please let me get away that I may see my brothers.’ For this reason he has not come to the king’s table.”

Jonathan delivers the pre-arranged story. It is a lie, but we must be careful here. This is a righteous deception, akin to Rahab lying to protect the spies. It is told to protect an innocent life from a lawless tyrant. The story itself is plausible and pious. A family sacrifice was a legitimate reason for absence. Jonathan frames it in the most respectful terms possible, quoting David as pleading for permission. He is trying to soften the blow, to present David's absence not as an act of defiance but as an act of familial piety. But he is dealing with a man who is beyond reason.

30 Then Saul’s anger burned against Jonathan, and he said to him, “You son of a perverse, rebellious woman! Do I not know that you are choosing the son of Jesse to your own shame and to the shame of your mother’s nakedness?

Saul's rage explodes, and it is directed with full force at his own son. The insult, "son of a perverse, rebellious woman," is a vile and deeply offensive curse. He is not just insulting Jonathan; he is insulting his own wife and questioning Jonathan's legitimacy. Saul's paranoia sees the truth: Jonathan has "chosen" David. But he interprets this choice through a purely carnal, political lens. He sees it as shameful, an act of self-sabotage that brings disgrace upon the entire family, represented by the phrase "the shame of your mother's nakedness." He cannot conceive of a loyalty higher than loyalty to his own throne.

31 For as long as the son of Jesse lives on the earth, neither you nor your kingdom will be established. So now, send and bring him to me, for he must surely die.”

Here is the heart of the matter. Saul lays bare his political calculus. David is an existential threat to Saul's dynasty. He correctly perceives that David's life and Jonathan's kingdom are mutually exclusive. As long as the true king lives, the false king's heir has no future. His logic is sound from a worldly perspective. His conclusion, however, is pure wickedness. The solution is not to submit to God's will but to murder God's anointed. The command is blunt: "bring him to me, for he must surely die." The mask is off. The king's murderous intent is now public record, declared before his son and the commander of his army.

32 But Jonathan answered Saul his father and said to him, “Why should he be put to death? What has he done?”

Jonathan's response is courageous and righteous. He does not cower before his father's rage. He appeals to the basic principle of justice. He asks for a reason, a charge, a crime. "Why? What has he done?" This is the question that exposes the utter lawlessness of Saul's position. There is no legal basis for David's execution. David has done nothing but serve Saul faithfully and valiantly. Jonathan is attempting to recall his father to the most basic duty of a king, which is to execute justice. But Saul is no longer interested in justice; he is interested only in preserving his own power.

33 Then Saul hurled his spear at him to strike him down; so Jonathan knew that his father had decided to put David to death.

When reason fails, the tyrant resorts to violence. Saul's answer to Jonathan's question of justice is a spear thrown at his own son. This is the second time Saul has used his spear as an instrument of policy in his own court, the first being against David himself. It is a sign of his complete moral and mental collapse. He is willing to kill his own heir for defending an innocent man. For Jonathan, this is the final, undeniable proof. There is no ambiguity left. His father is absolutely determined to murder David. The test is complete, and the results are worse than he could have feared.

34 Then Jonathan arose from the table in burning anger and did not eat food on the second day of the new moon, for he was grieved over David because his father had dishonored him.

Jonathan's reaction is one of righteous wrath and profound grief. His anger is not a sinful outburst like his father's; it is a "burning anger" rooted in a love for justice and a horror at wickedness. He leaves the table, refusing to participate any further in this profane mockery of a feast. His fast is an act of protest and sorrow. The text gives two reasons for his grief, and they are intertwined. He was grieved "over David," because his innocent friend had been so unjustly condemned. And he was grieved because his "father had dishonored him." This dishonor works on two levels. Saul had dishonored David, but even more, Saul had dishonored himself and his royal office. Jonathan grieves for his friend, but he also grieves for his father's spectacular fall from grace.

Application

This passage forces us to confront the nature of true loyalty. In a world of competing allegiances, to whom do we owe our ultimate faithfulness? Saul demanded absolute loyalty to himself and his political project. Jonathan gave his ultimate loyalty to God and to God's anointed. This is a foundational Christian principle. Our loyalty to Christ trumps all other loyalties, whether to family, state, or tradition. When a father, a boss, or a government commands what God forbids, or forbids what God commands, we are in Jonathan's position. Our duty is to obey God rather than men. This is not a path of rebellion for rebellion's sake, but a sober-minded allegiance to the King of kings.

We also see a stark contrast between two kinds of anger. Saul's anger is selfish, paranoid, and murderous. It flows from a heart that sees its own power and prestige as the ultimate good. Jonathan's anger is righteous. It is a hot, holy anger against injustice and dishonor. It flows from a heart that loves God's righteousness and grieves when it is violated. We are not called to be passionless stoics. There are things that ought to make a Christian angry. We should be angry at the slaughter of the unborn, at the corruption of our children, at the profaning of God's name. The question is not whether we get angry, but what makes us angry, and what we do with that anger. Is it the selfish rage of Saul, which throws spears? Or is it the grieving, righteous anger of Jonathan, which stands for the truth even at great personal cost?

Finally, this scene at the feast is a warning against hollow religiosity. Saul was sitting at a religious festival, going through the motions of covenant observance, while his heart was full of murder. It is entirely possible to be in the right place, at the right time, saying the right words, all while our hearts are a million miles from God. The Lord is not interested in our external observances if our hearts are not clean. He desires truth in the inward parts. The empty chair at Saul's table is a picture of what happens when God's presence departs from a man or an institution. All that is left is the empty ritual, a shell of piety that cannot hide the corruption within. Let us therefore examine our own hearts, lest we be found honoring God with our lips while our hearts are far from Him, holding a feast while plotting murder.