A Career in Killing or Merely Human Resources?

As you look back on your life in work, as you look forward to the rest of your career, whence cometh your help in the nitty-gritty challenges, conflicts, and decisions of your daily job?

It was Psalm 144 that first made me realise that David was more than a cute shepherd boy who killed Goliath; more than a great King who defeated the Philistines; more than an adulterer and a murderer; more than a writer of great poetry of praise and complaint, of pain and joy, of agonised doubt and soaring certainty. David was, more simply, a man with a job; a man who had a career. David was a soldier, a killer. So was Saul. So was Jonathan. But David was better. A very skilled killer. Saul had killed his thousands, but David was in a different league - he'd killed his ten thousands. A fact that might have spawned a certain pride in his own ability. But - startlingly - Psalm 144:1 reads: 'Praise be to the Lord my Rock who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.' It's a simple statement that expresses David's clear consciousness that God helped him do his job better, helped him be a better killer. God had been involved not only in creating him with certain skills - 'I praise you because I am wonderfully made' (Psalm 139:14) - but also had been instrumental in his training.

Certainly, you can see this in his encounter with Goliath, his first great battle. At that stage, David was not a trained soldier, but he had an important transferable skill - he could sling a rock a hundred metres or so, and hit the target. This wasn't simply a childhood game, but an important skill for a shepherd intent on protecting a flock from predators - wolves, lions, bears. He had learned not only to hit a target, but to hit it under pressure. So when it came to taking on Goliath, he was ready. Psalm 144 shows us that David could see that ultimately God was his trainer - even though he may have learned much about fighting from his brothers, and perhaps too from Saul and Jonathan. God had his hand in David's career.

And God is not only interested in his people, God is involved in developing them to the point where they can achieve the purposes he has for them. This development in David's case is not only in terms of character, not only in terms of giving him the physical strength to 'bend a bow of bronze' (2 Sam 22:35), but in terms of skill. God trained David to do the job God had called him to do. Is he doing any less with you? And does the God who loved David and called him to be a soldier care any less about you or the job he has called you to do?

David's sense of God's involvement in his work went beyond training to every aspect of his soldiering career. So, for example, late in his career he reflected: 'You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn' (2 Sam 22:37). David had spent years in intense man-to-man combat on invariably uneven terrain, and his ankle had never turned. This is a remarkable fact. As remarkable as, for example, a pacey striker like Michael Owen being able to look back on his footballing career and say that he had never pulled his hamstring. Which Owen, of course, cannot. Moreover, there was rather more at stake for David than another virtuoso goal. Such providential protection from an ankle injury on the battlefield translated into divine protection from death. In man-to-man combat, mobility and the maintenance of good balance are vital, particularly for swordsmen. A limping swordsman is highly vulnerable.

Similarly, David saw God helping him in the most pressured and dangerous contexts of his work: 'With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall' (2 Sam 22:30). Even today, scaling a wall is a dangerous activity for a soldier. At any given moment, he only has one hand spare to defend himself, and is particularly vulnerable as his head and shoulders emerge over the top of the wall. Scaling a wall takes significant courage; yet David takes no personal credit for having such courage. Instead, he gives God the glory. In the toughest times, it wasn't 'me' that got me through, it was God.

This consciousness of God's involvement extended beyond training and protection, to David's decisions as a commander. So, for example, when the Philistines attacked Keilah, he inquired of the Lord, saying, 'Shall I go and attack the Philistines?' (2 Sam 5:19). This was an overall strategic decision. In asking the question, David recognised his own need for God's wisdom. How easy it might have been for him who had, after all, killed his tens of thousands to be presumptuous and attack without reference to God. Or on the other hand, how easy for him to ignore the plight of his fellow Israelites. After all, at the time David was fleeing for his life from Saul. And as David's own men pointed out: 'Here in Judah we are afraid. How much more, then, if we go to Keilah against the Philistine forces!' (1 Sam 23:3). The Lord's answer to David's question could hardly be simpler: 'Go, for I will surely hand the Philistines over to you' (2 Sam 5:19).

David's openness to God's leading in the 'macro' strategic issue of whether or not to join battle is paralleled by David's openness to God's leading in the 'micro' issue of his tactics: 'Once more the Philistines came up and spread out in the Valley of Rephaim: so David inquired of the Lord, and he answered, "Do not go straight up, but circle around behind them and attack them in front of the balsam trees."' (2 Sam 5:22- 23). David, an expert commander, sought God's guidance in the detail. And God didn't just say, 'You're experienced - you work it out.' Instead, he provided the detail: 'As soon as you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the balsam trees, move quickly, because that will mean the Lord has gone out in front of you to strike the Philistine army' (2 Sam 5:24). Should we fight or not? Should I take that job or not? Should we bid for that client or not? Should we take this product or not?

These questions matter to God. Of course, you can argue that David is a special case. And, at one level, he is. He was, after all, the man God anointed as King of Israel, the man whose descendant is the Messiah, the King throughout eternity. Nevertheless, God loves each of us no less than he loved David. I'm not suggesting that God will give as clear and unequivocal an answer to us for every decision - God guides in a variety of ways, and may treat each of us in different ways. Obviously, godly Christian soldiers do twist their ankles on the battlefield and are not immune to shrapnel or machinegun fire. But God is intensely interested in the whole of our lives, and every area may be brought to him.

David's consciousness of God is the key. God is not just the God of the sanctuary; God is the God of the battlefield. This is whole-life faith. For anyone believing that God is not the God of Monday as well as of the Sabbath, then David's experience is eloquent testimony not only to God's theoretical interest in all of life but to his actual involvement in all of life. And the life in Christ is seamless. Jesus is as capable of teaching Peter through his work as he is through a sermon. In Luke 5, it is Jesus' involvement in Peter's fishing business that results in Peter casting his nets once again, even though he had caught nothing the night before. Peter's response to the abundant catch is a searing recognition of his own sinfulness, and a worshipful acknowledgment of Jesus' identity: 'he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man."' (Lk 5:8). In David's life, there is no compartmentalisation of the 'devotional' life, the family life and the working life. Each has an impact on the other. His failure as a father led to civil war; and his failure to lead his army in spring time, 'when kings go off to war', led to that selfish abuse of his royal power - the procurement of Bathsheba, and Uriah's subsequent murder. The consequences to David are not only personal pain and the anguish of unrepentant guilt, but also, after his confession, God's decision that 'the sword will never depart from your house' (see 2 Sam 12). David's reign would never again know peace, though God would never leave him.

There are, of course, an enormous number of lessons to be learned from David's life and career, but these points are clear - David knew that his work and his life were really important to God. And that God wanted to be involved, because he made David who he was. He also made you who you are. He does want to be involved. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Mark Greene

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