Gilboa's Bitter Harvest: The End of a Bad Beginning Text: 1 Chronicles 10:1-6
Introduction: Clearing the Decks
The book of Chronicles opens with what appears to be a genealogical desert. Nine chapters of names, of begetting and begatting. And then, without warning, the narrative camera crashes onto a bloody battlefield. There is no gentle introduction to the first king of Israel. There is no story of his anointing, his early victories, or his slow, tragic decay. The Chronicler, writing to a post-exilic community, is not interested in retelling the whole sorry tale. He assumes you know it. His purpose is different. He begins the story of Israel's kingdom by showing us the smoldering wreckage of its first, failed attempt.
The book of 1 Samuel gives us the long, slow-motion car crash of Saul's rebellion. We see every wrong turn, every act of pride, every moment of paranoia. But Chronicles is a book about true worship and the true kingly line. And so, it begins by clearing the decks. It starts with the judicial execution of the false king to make way for the true. This is not just history; it is theology written in blood and iron. Saul's death on Mount Gilboa is not a sad accident of war. It is the final, declarative sentence in a long trial, and the verdict is guilty. God is not mocked. What a man sows, that he will also reap, and Saul had been sowing to the wind for decades. Here, on this dark mountain, he reaps the whirlwind.
This chapter is a stark and necessary preface to the glorious reign of David. Before you can understand the nature of a true king, a man after God's own heart, you must first understand the nature of a false king, a man after his own heart. Saul is a monument to covenant unfaithfulness. He is what you get when you ask for a king "like the other nations." You get a king who dies like the other nations, abandoned by God, driven by pride, and ending in despair. This is a warning to all who would lead God's people, and a lesson for all of God's people on where not to place their ultimate trust.
The Text
Now the Philistines fought against Israel; and the men of Israel fled from before the Philistines and fell slain on Mount Gilboa. And the Philistines closely pursued Saul and his sons, and the Philistines struck down Jonathan and Abinadab and Malchi-shua, the sons of Saul. And the battle became heavy against Saul, and the archers hit him; and he was wounded by the archers. Then Saul said to his armor bearer, "Draw your sword and pierce me through with it, lest these uncircumcised come and abuse me." But his armor bearer was not willing, for he was greatly afraid. So Saul took his sword and fell on it. Then his armor bearer saw that Saul was dead, so he also fell on his sword and died. Thus Saul died with his three sons, and all those of his house died together.
(1 Chronicles 10:1-6 LSB)
The Hedge Removed (v. 1-2)
The scene opens with the consequences of God's withdrawal.
"Now the Philistines fought against Israel; and the men of Israel fled from before the Philistines and fell slain on Mount Gilboa. And the Philistines closely pursued Saul and his sons, and the Philistines struck down Jonathan and Abinadab and Malchi-shua, the sons of Saul." (1 Chronicles 10:1-2)
The battle belongs to the Lord, which is a great comfort when you are on the Lord's side. It is a terror when you are not. Saul had spent his reign systematically alienating himself from the God who gave him the throne. He disobeyed direct commands, consulted mediums, and was consumed by a jealous hatred for God's chosen successor. And so, when the battle comes, the Lord is not with Israel's armies. The result is predictable: flight and death. "The men of Israel fled... and fell slain." This is a spiritual rout before it is a military one. When the covenant head of the nation is in open rebellion, the people under his headship suffer the consequences. The hedge of divine protection has been removed, and the wild beasts rush in.
The judgment is not general; it is intensely personal and dynastic. The Philistines "closely pursued Saul and his sons." The judgment is aimed at the house of Saul. The sins of the father are visited upon the sons, not in the sense that they are personally guilty of his specific transgressions, but in the sense that they are part of the rebellious house that God is now cutting off. This is the hard reality of covenant headship. A father's faithfulness brings blessing to a thousand generations, and a father's rebellion brings ruin upon his house.
Here we see the tragic death of Jonathan. Jonathan was a man of great faith and courage, a loyal friend to David. So why does he fall here? Because he is a son of Saul. He is part of the administration that God is judging. His loyalty to his father, while commendable on a human level, bound him to the fate of his father's house. God is performing radical surgery here. To establish the throne of David, the house of Saul must be utterly removed. Jonathan's death, as tragic as it is, is a necessary part of this dynastic transfer of power. God is making it clear that the future does not lie with the house of Saul, not even with its best and brightest member.
The Weight of Judgment (v. 3-4)
The focus narrows from the army and the sons to the king himself.
"And the battle became heavy against Saul, and the archers hit him; and he was wounded by the archers. Then Saul said to his armor bearer, 'Draw your sword and pierce me through with it, lest these uncircumcised come and abuse me.' But his armor bearer was not willing, for he was greatly afraid. So Saul took his sword and fell on it." (1 Chronicles 10:3-4 LSB)
The battle became "heavy against Saul." This is more than just military tactics. This is the crushing weight of the hand of God. For years, Saul's rebellion has been a spiritual reality. Now, on Gilboa, it becomes a physical one. The anonymous Philistine archers are nothing less than God's instruments of judgment. The arrows that find their mark are guided by a sovereign purpose. The man who stood head and shoulders above all Israel is now brought low, bleeding in the dirt.
And in this final moment, what is Saul's chief concern? The glory of God? Repentance? The fate of his people? No. His concern is his own reputation. "Lest these uncircumcised come and abuse me." His final act is governed by pride. He cannot bear the thought of being mocked and tortured by the enemy. He wants to control the narrative of his own death. Having lived a life of usurping God's authority, he now seeks to usurp God's final prerogative over the timing and manner of his death.
His request to his armor bearer is a final test of loyalty, and the armor bearer, to his credit, initially passes. He "was not willing, for he was greatly afraid." This is a proper fear. He feared to raise his hand against the Lord's anointed, even a failed and dying one. His hesitation shows more reverence for the office of the king than Saul himself had shown for the God who established that office. But Saul's will prevails. When his subordinate refuses to help him sin, he sins by himself. "So Saul took his sword and fell on it." This is the ultimate act of faithlessness. It is the final, defiant declaration that "my life is my own." It is the polar opposite of the man who would come from the line of David, who, facing a far greater cup of wrath, would say, "Not my will, but yours, be done."
The Contagion of Despair (v. 5-6)
The chapter concludes with the finality of the verdict and the ripple effect of Saul's sin.
"Then his armor bearer saw that Saul was dead, so he also fell on his sword and died. Thus Saul died with his three sons, and all those of his house died together." (1 Chronicles 10:5-6 LSB)
Wicked leadership is a contagion. Saul's final act of despair infects his last remaining follower. The armor bearer's righteous fear of striking God's anointed is swallowed up by his faithless fear of capture by the Philistines. Seeing his master dead, his hope evaporates, and he follows him into the sin of suicide. This is what happens when men place their ultimate loyalty in other men, even kings. When the man falls, their world falls with him.
Verse 6 is the Chronicler's stark epitaph. "Thus Saul died." The case is closed. The judgment is executed. And it is total: "with his three sons, and all those of his house died together." This is a complete dynastic cleansing. God is not interested in reforming the house of Saul. He is removing it, root and branch, to plant the house of David in its place. The Chronicler will make the reason explicit just a few verses later: Saul died for his unfaithfulness and for seeking counsel from a medium instead of the Lord. Therefore, the text says, God "put him to death and turned the kingdom over to David." This was not a Philistine victory. This was a divine execution.
Conclusion: The Tale of Two Kings
Why begin the story of God's kingdom here, in such a dark and bloody place? The Chronicler begins with the death of the false king because he wants to make you long for the true king. Saul is the king according to the flesh. He was what the people wanted: tall, handsome, impressive. He was a king like the other nations had. And he died like the kings of the other nations die: in defeat, in despair, by his own hand, under the judgment of God.
This entire chapter is a backdrop for David. It is the black velvet on which the diamond of the Davidic covenant will be displayed. Saul tried to secure his kingdom through his own strength, his own wisdom, and his own sword. He ended up falling on that same sword. David, for all his grievous sins, understood that the kingdom belonged to the Lord. He was a man after God's own heart.
And this, of course, points us to David's greatest Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. Saul, the false king, fell on his sword to avoid shame. Jesus, the true King, embraced the cross and despised its shame for the joy that was set before Him. Saul died for his own sin, taking his house with him. Christ died for our sin, bringing many sons to glory. Saul's death was the end of his failed kingdom. Christ's death was the inauguration of a Kingdom that will never end.
The story of Saul is a terrifying warning. It is the story of a man who was given everything and threw it all away through rebellion. It shows us that God's judgment, though patient, is certain and severe. But in the wisdom of the Chronicler, it is placed here at the beginning to make us lift our eyes from the corpse of the failed king on Mount Gilboa and look for another King, a better King, whose throne is forever and ever.