ADR[1]
Abigail flew into action. She took two 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, and she had it all loaded on some donkeys. Then she said to her young servants, “Go ahead and pave the way for me. I’m right behind you.” But she said nothing to her husband, Nabal.
As she was riding her donkey, descending into a ravine, David and his men were descending from the other end, so they met there on the road. David had just said, “That sure was a waste, guarding everything this man had out in the wild so that nothing he had was lost – and now he rewards me with insults. A real slap in the face! May God do his worst to me if Nabal and every cur in his misbegotten brood aren’t dead meat by morning!”
As soon as Abigail saw David, she got off her donkey and fell on her knees at his feet, her face to the ground in homage, saying, “My master, let me take the blame! Let me speak to you. Listen to what I have to say. Don’t dwell on what that brute Nabal did. He acts out the meaning of his name: Nabal, Fool. Foolishness oozes from him.”
“I wasn’t there when the young men my master sent arrived. I didn’t see them. And now, my master, as God lives and you live, God has kept you from this avenging murder – and may your enemies, all who seek my master’s harm, end up like Nabal! Now take this gift that I, your servant girl, have brought to my master, and give it to the young men who follow in the steps of my master ….”
And David said, “Blessed be God, the God of Israel. He sent you to meet me! And blessed be your good sense! Bless you for keeping me from murder and taking charge of looking out for me. A close call! As God lives, the God of Israel who kept me from hurting you, 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.”
Then David accepted the gift she brought him and said, "Return home in peace. I've heard what you've said and I'll do what you've asked." 1 Sam. 25:18-25, 32-35
Abigail lived in the days of David, and she was married to a real gem of a guy, Nabal. In Hebrew, Nabal means “fool.” And he certainly lived up to that nom-de-plume. Think of him as, oh, like the Saddam Hussein of the territory. He owned lots of cattle and sheep, and took pride in both. He kept his liquor cabinet full, his date life hot, and traveled with an entourage. His NBA seats were courtside, his jet was Lear, and he was prone to hop over to Vegas for a weekend of Texas Hold ‘Em. Half a dozen linebacker-sized security guards followed him wherever he went.
And Nabal definitely needed a posse because he was “churlish and ill-behaved (and) so ill-natured that one cannot speak to him.” (1 Sam 25:3, 17) Apparently, he learned people skills at the local zoo; he never met a person he couldn’t anger, or a relationship he couldn’t ruin. Nabal’s world revolved around one person – Nabal. He owed nothing to nobody, and laughed at the thought of sharing anything with anyone, especially the likes of David.
Now in those days, David played a kind of Robin Hood role in the wilderness. He and his 600 soldiers protected the farmers and shepherds from hoodlums and highwayman. Of course, Israel had no highway patrol or police force, so David and his men filled a definite need in the lawless countryside. In fact, they were so good that it prompted one of Nabal’s shepherds to say, “Night and day they were a wall around us all the time we were herding our sheep near them.” (1 Sam. 25:16)
Despite the fact that David and Nabal lived in the same neighborhood, they were as harmonious as two bulls in the same pasture: both strong and strong-headed. So, it was just a matter of time before these two Titans collided. And the trouble began to brew just after the harvest. With the sheep sheared and the hay gathered, it was time to bake bread, roast lamb, and pour a little vino. In other words, it was a time to take a break from their work and enjoy the fruits of their labor. And as we pick up the story, Nabal’s men are doing just that.
Having his sources, David hears about Nabal’s party and, frankly, thought his men deserved an invitation. After all, they’ve protected the man’s crops and sheep, patrolled the hills and secured the valleys. So, they deserve a bit of the bounty. As a result, David sends ten men to Nabal with this request: “We come at a happy time, so be kind to my young men. Please give anything you can find for them and for your son David.” (1 Sam. 25:8) And here’s Nabal’s R.S.V.P:
Who is David, and who is the son of Jesse? There are many servants nowadays who break away each one from his master. Shall I then take my bread and my water and my meat that I have killed for my shearers, and give it to men when I do not know where they are from? (1 Sam. 25:10-11)
In other words, Nabal pretends like he’d never heard of David, lumping him in with runaway slaves and vagabonds. Nabal’s insolence so infuriates the messengers that they turn on their heels and rush back to David to give him a complete report. And David doesn’t need to hear the news twice. He tells the men to form a posse and to “Strap on your swords!” (1 Sam. 25:12)
At that, four hundred men mount up and take off. Eyes glaring. Nostrils flaring. Lips snarling. Testosterone flowing. David and his troops thunder down on Nabal who’s obliviously swilling beer and eating barbecue with his buddies. The road rumbles as David grumbles, “May God do his worst to me if Nabal and every cur in his misbegotten brood aren’t dead meat by morning!” (1 Sam. 25:22) It’s kind of like the Wild West in the Ancient East.
Then, all of a sudden, beauty appears. A rose lifts its head in the desert; a whiff of perfume floats through the men’s locker room. Abigail, the wife of Nabal, stands on the trail. Whereas Nabal is brutish and mean, Abigail is “intelligent and good-looking.” (1 Sam. 25:3) Wow, brains and beauty! Now that’s a combination that would get any soldier’s attention!
You see, when she learned of Nabal’s crude response, she sprang into action. With no word to her husband, she gathered gifts and food and raced to intercept David. And as David and his men descend a ravine at one end of the canyon, she takes her position in the middle of the road, armed with “two 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 donkeys.” (1 Sam. 25:18) A regular Rachael Ray!
Four hundred men rein in their rides. Some gape at the food while others are gawking at the chick. She’s hot and a great cook! A combination that could stop any army. (Picture Marilyn Monroe showing up at boot camp with a truck full of burgers and beer) Abigail’s no fool. She knows the importance of the moment. She stands as the final barrier between her family and certain death. Falling at David’s feet, she issues a plea worthy of a paragraph in Scripture.
“On me, my lord, on me let this iniquity be! And please let your maidservant speak in your ears, and hear the words of your maidservant.” (1 Sam. 25:24)
You see, she doesn’t defend Nabal. In fact, she agrees that he’s an idiot. And she doesn’t beg for justice but for forgiveness, accepting blame when she deserved none. “Please forgive the trespass of your maidservant.” (1 Sam. 25:28) She offers the gifts from her house and urges David to leave Nabal to God and avoid a lifetime of remorse – like mass murder. Her words sweep over David like a Santa Ana and, like butter in the sun, 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 .… I’ve heard what you’ve said and I’ll do what you’ve asked.” (1 Sam. 25: 32-35)
So, David and his men return to camp with his men and the eats, and Abigail returns to Nabal – too drunk for conversation. So, she waits until the next morning to describe just how close David had come to camp and how close Nabal had come to death. “Right then and there he (Nabal) had a heart attack and fell into a coma. About ten days later God finished him off and he died.” (1 Sam. 25:37-38)
Now, when David learns of Nabal’s death, and Abigail’s sudden availability, he thanked God for the first and took advantage of the second. Unable to shake the memory of the pretty woman in the middle of the road, he proposed, and she accepted. David gets a new wife, Abigail gets a new home, and we have a great principle: beauty can overcome barbarism. But the beauty I’m talking about is more than just skin-deep.
Meekness saved the day that day. Abigail’s gentleness reversed a river of anger. You know, humility has such power. Apologies can disarm arguments. Contrition can diffuse rage. Olive branches do more good than battle-axes ever will. “Soft speech can break bones.” (Prov. 25:15)
And Abigail teaches us a great lesson: the contagious power of kindness. The strength of a gentle heart. Her greatest lesson, however, is to take our eyes from her beauty and set them on someone else’s. She lifts our thoughts from a rural trail to a Jerusalem cross. Abigail never knew Jesus; she lived a thousand years before his sacrifice. Nevertheless, her story prefigures his life.
You see, Abigail placed herself between David and Nabal, just like Jesus placed himself between God and us. Abigail volunteered to be punished for Nabal’s sins, while Jesus allowed heaven to punish him for your sins and mine. Abigail turned away the anger of David, and didn’t Christ shield you from God’s?
He is our “Mediator who can reconcile God and humanity – the man Christ Jesus. He gave his life to purchase freedom for everyone.” (1 Tim. 2:5-6) A mediator is one who stands in between. And what did Christ do but stand in between God’s anger and our punishment? Christ intercepted the wrath of heaven.
Who does that? What kind of person would take the blame for something he didn’t do?
Well, when you find the adjective for that, attach it to Jesus. “God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong, on him, on him.” (Isaiah 53:6) God treated his innocent Son like the guilty human race, his Holy One like a lying scoundrel, his Abigail like a Nabal.
Christ lived the life we could not live and took the punishment we could not take to offer the hope we cannot resist.
And his sacrifice begs the questions: if he so loved us, can’t we love each other? Having been forgiven, can’t we forgive? Having feasted at the table of grace, can’t we share a few of the crumbs? “My dear, dear friends, if God loved us like this, we certainly ought to love each other.” (1 John 4:11)
Do you find your Nabal-type world hard to stomach? Then do what David did: stop staring at Nabal. Shift your gaze to Christ. Look more at the Mediator and less on the troublemakers. “Don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.” (Romans 12:21)
One Abigail can save an entire family. So, be the beauty amidst your beasts and see what happens. It’s ADR (Alternative Dispute Resolution) put into practice.
Grace,
Randy
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