Defending the Lentil Patch Text: 2 Samuel 23:8-12
Introduction: A Crisis of Courage
We live in an age that is desperately confused about what a man is. Our culture manufactures two equally useless models. The first is the brutish, chest-thumping alpha, who is all swagger and no substance, a peacock of vanity. The second, and far more common model, is the soft, pliable, and accommodating man, the milquetoast man, who mistakes agreeableness for kindness and passivity for peace. He would not hurt a fly, and consequently, he could not defend a child. He is a house cat trying to pass for a lion. The church, tragically, has often been complicit in this, baptizing a sort of sanctified cowardice and calling it gentleness.
Into this confusion, the Word of God speaks with the clarity of a trumpet blast in battle. The Bible is not embarrassed by masculine courage. It does not apologize for warriors. It celebrates them. And it does so because the kingdom of God is not a debating society; it is a kingdom, and kingdoms advance through conflict. The Christian life is not a stroll; it is a war. We are called to "fight the good fight of faith" and to "put on the whole armor of God."
This passage in 2 Samuel is a muster roll of heroes. It is a catalogue of men who were not confused about their calling. These are David's mighty men, the tip of the spear of Israel. Their exploits are recorded here not simply to impress us, but to instruct us. They are living, breathing examples of what happens when faith, courage, and loyalty are fused together in the heart of a man. We are meant to look at them and see a pattern. We are meant to see what it looks like to stand when everyone else runs, to fight until your hand freezes to your sword, and to defend the seemingly insignificant because it belongs to your king.
But the central lesson is not one of mere human grit. The refrain we will see is that "Yahweh brought about a great salvation." This is the glorious paradox of the Christian life. We are called to fight with everything we have, to pour ourselves out, to exhaust our strength in faithful obedience. And when the dust settles and the victory is won, we are to look back and confess that it was the Lord who did it all. Our total effort is the vehicle for His total victory. This passage, then, is a rebuke to our passivity and a corrective to our pride. It shows us what real men do, and it tells us who the real hero is.
The Text
These are the names of the mighty men whom David had: Josheb-basshebeth a Tahchemonite, chief of the captains, he was called Adino the Eznite, because of eight hundred slain by him at one time; and after him was Eleazar the son of Dodo the son of Ahohi, one of the three mighty men with David when they reproached the Philistines who were gathered together there to battle and the men of Israel had gone up to retreat. He arose and struck the Philistines until his hand was weary and clung to the sword, and Yahweh brought about a great salvation that day; and the people returned after him only to strip the slain.
Now after him was Shammah the son of Agee a Hararite. And the Philistines were gathered into a troop where there was a portion of the field full of lentils; and the people fled from before the Philistines. But he took his stand in the midst of that portion and delivered it and struck down the Philistines. So Yahweh brought about a great salvation.
(2 Samuel 23:8-12 LSB)
The Chief and the Overwhelming Odds (v. 8)
The list begins with a man whose name is a mouthful and whose deeds are staggering.
"These are the names of the mighty men whom David had: Josheb-basshebeth a Tahchemonite, chief of the captains, he was called Adino the Eznite, because of eight hundred slain by him at one time" (2 Samuel 23:8)
The names and titles here have some textual complexities, but the point is brutally clear. This man, the chief of David's elite unit, was a force of nature. He faced and killed eight hundred men in a single engagement. This is not a man who was concerned about being perceived as aggressive. This is a man who understood the nature of the enemy and the nature of his calling. He was a protector of Israel, and that meant he was a destroyer of Israel's enemies.
This kind of martial prowess is not celebrated in our effeminate age. We prefer our heroes to be therapeutic, not lethal. But the Bible operates in the real world, a world of wolves and sheep. And in such a world, the sheep owe their lives to the sheepdogs. Josheb-basshebeth was a sheepdog. His job was to stand between the flock of Israel and the ravenous Philistine wolves. His actions were not a display of toxic masculinity; they were an expression of covenant faithfulness. He was defending God's people, in God's land, under God's anointed king.
The lesson for us is not to go out and buy a spear. The lesson is about confronting overwhelming odds. We are all called to face down enemies that appear to be eight hundred to one. The world, the flesh, and the devil do not fight fair. They assemble in hordes. The temptation to despair, to think the fight is pointless, is immense. But this man stands as a testimony that one man, committed to his post, can be an instrument of staggering divine power.
The Man Who Wouldn't Quit (v. 9-10)
Next, we meet Eleazar, a man defined by his tenacity.
"and after him was Eleazar the son of Dodo the son of Ahohi, one of the three mighty men with David when they reproached the Philistines who were gathered together there to battle and the men of Israel had gone up to retreat. He arose and struck the Philistines until his hand was weary and clung to the sword, and Yahweh brought about a great salvation that day; and the people returned after him only to strip the slain." (2 Samuel 23:9-10 LSB)
Here the scene is set with stark clarity. The Philistines are gathered for battle. And what do the men of Israel do? They retreat. They had "gone up to retreat," which is a wonderful biblical irony. They went up the hill to run down the other side. The army broke. This is the moment of decision. When the consensus is to flee, when the institution is in full retreat, what does the faithful man do?
Eleazar "arose and struck the Philistines." He stood his ground. He did not take his cue from the wavering majority. His loyalty was not to the spirit of the age or the mood of the army, but to his king and his God. He fought until he was exhausted, until his hand literally cramped and froze to the hilt of his sword. This is a picture of total, unyielding commitment. His hand became one with the instrument of his calling. He did not just hold the sword; he became the sword.
And then we see the glorious equation: man's uttermost exertion plus God's sovereign power equals victory. After Eleazar has poured out every last ounce of his strength, we are told that "Yahweh brought about a great salvation." God did it. But He did it through the man who refused to run. God honors this kind of grit. He does not reward our passivity. He meets us in the fight. The people who had fled earlier only come back to collect the plunder. Eleazar did the work; they get the leftovers. This is a perpetual pattern. The men who stand and fight secure the peace and prosperity that the timid later enjoy.
The Stand in the Lentil Patch (v. 11-12)
The final example in this section is perhaps the most instructive for us today.
"Now after him was Shammah the son of Agee a Hararite. And the Philistines were gathered into a troop where there was a portion of the field full of lentils; and the people fled from before the Philistines. But he took his stand in the midst of that portion and delivered it and struck down the Philistines. So Yahweh brought about a great salvation." (2 Samuel 23:11-12 LSB)
Once again, the people flee. The army of Israel seems to have a recurring problem with cowardice. And what is the point of contention? A patch of lentils. Not a fortress. Not a holy site. A bean field. From a strategic, cost-benefit analysis, this piece of ground was worthless. The sensible, pragmatic thing to do would be to let it go. "It's just lentils. We can plant more lentils. Let's not die over lentils."
But Shammah did not see it that way. He saw a piece of the promised land, a piece of Israel's inheritance, given by God. He saw the enemy encroaching on what belonged to his king. The issue was not the value of the lentils; the issue was the principle of the thing. If you surrender the lentil patch today, you will be surrendering the wheat field tomorrow, and the city gates the day after that. There is no end to the demands of a ravenous enemy. A stand must be made somewhere.
Shammah "took his stand in the midst of that portion." He made himself the immovable object. This was his hill to die on, and it was a very humble hill. And what was the result? The exact same formula we saw with Eleazar: "So Yahweh brought about a great salvation." God delights in defending the small things, the humble things, the things the world deems not worth fighting for. The great battles for civilization are often won or lost in the lentil patches.
Conclusion: Your Lentil Patch
These men are not just dusty figures from an ancient war. They are a charge to us. We live in a world where our lentil patches are being threatened every day. The biblical definition of marriage is a lentil patch. The personhood of the unborn is a lentil patch. The right of parents to direct the education of their children is a lentil patch. The exclusivity of Christ for salvation is a lentil patch. The created distinction between male and female is a lentil patch.
The world, and often the compromising church, tells us to retreat. "Don't make a fuss. Don't be divisive. It's not that important. Let it go for the sake of 'witness.'" This is the voice of the fleeing Israelites. But God is looking for Eleazars and Shammahs. He is looking for men who will stand their ground, not because the ground is easy to defend, but because it is the Lord's ground. He is looking for men whose hands will cling to the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, and refuse to let go, no matter how weary they become.
Notice the pattern. The mighty men fight, and Yahweh brings the victory. Human responsibility and divine sovereignty are not enemies; they are partners in the dance of redemption. God has ordained that His great salvations will be accomplished through the courageous, blood-and-sweat-stained obedience of His people. He does not call us to sit back and watch Him work. He calls us to get in the fight, to stand in the gap, to defend the lentil patch.
And when we do, when we stand firm in our families, in our churches, and in our communities, refusing to give one inch of Christ's territory to the enemy, we will find that our strength is not our own. We will find that the Lord of Hosts is fighting alongside us. And when the battle is over, we will look back, weary but victorious, and say with these mighty men of old, "Yahweh has brought about a great salvation." So find your lentil patch. Take your stand. And watch what God will do.