“From the heavens you heard their plea, and the land was healed.”
Chapters 21–24 are often called the “epilogue” to 2 Samuel. They are not arranged by date but by theme, tying loose threads before the book closes. Today we linger over chapter 21, a story in two parts:
The Spirit places these scenes side by side so we will read them together: unresolved sin weakens a nation, but when justice and mercy meet, new strength returns.
Suggested cross-reads: Joshua 9; Deuteronomy 21:1-9; Psalm 72:6; Galatians 3:13; 2 Corinthians 10:3-5.
“During the reign of David, there was a famine for three successive years; so David sought the face of the LORD.” (New International Version)
Ancient Israel expected the early rains each autumn. When they failed three years running, the king knew something was wrong at a covenant level (cf. Deut 28:23-24). He “sought the face” (Hebrew dāraš pənê) of the LORD, a phrase that carries the picture of turning the face upward in prayer and inquiry.
The divine answer reveals forgotten bloodguilt: Saul had tried to wipe out the Gibeonites, breaking the oath Israel had made with them in Joshua 9. Western readers, trained to think individually, often miss the biblical weight of corporate responsibility. An oath sworn in God’s name bound the whole nation, long after the original signers died (cf. Ecclesiastes 5:4-6).
Calvin called this “the long arm of perjury.” Augustine went further—seeing in the famine a mirror of the soul: “Until hidden sins are confessed, the inner land stays barren.”
Archaeological note: At el-Jib (identified with ancient Gibeon) dozens of jar handles stamped “gb‘n” were found. They confirm a sizable settlement in Saul’s day, making his attempted genocide plausible.
The Gibeonites refuse monetary payment; they ask for seven male descendants of Saul to be impaled “before the LORD at Gibeah of Saul.” This shocks modern ears.
Key cultural pieces:
• The Near-Eastern idea of the goʾel haddām, the “blood-avenger,”
demanded that bloodshed be answered so the land could rest (Num
35:33).
• Hanging the bodies publicly signaled that the crime had been dealt
with “before the LORD” (Deut 21:22-23).
• Seven—fullness—showed that the atonement was complete.
Hebrew spotlight: the Gibeonites ask that the men be “impaled” (Heb. yûqa‘), literally “lifted up.” The Greek translators used anistēmi, “raise.” John’s Gospel later uses similar language for Jesus: “The Son of Man must be lifted up” (John 3:14).
The text adds: “David spared Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan, because of the oath before the LORD” (v. 7). One covenant (with Jonathan) limits how David satisfies another (with the Gibeonites). God’s people often hold tensions like these; wisdom seeks the path that honors every promise.
Rizpah, concubine of Saul, spreads sackcloth on a rock from April’s barley harvest until the autumn rains. She keeps birds and beasts from the bodies by day and night. The Hebrew paints her as a lone sentinel—refusing to let shame or predators have the last word over her sons.
Early Jewish writers saw her as a symbol of Israel in exile—watchful until God sends rain. Christians have long read Rizpah as a quiet picture of the cross: steadfast love beneath lifted bodies, waiting for heaven’s answer. Charles Wesley captured something of her heart in the hymn “O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done.”
David is moved. He gathers the bones of Saul and Jonathan from Jabesh-Gilead (cf. 1 Sam 31), joins them with the seven, and buries them in the family tomb. “After that, God answered prayer for the land” (v. 14). Burial ends dishonor; rain ends famine; shalom returns.
Prayer practice: Name one broken promise—national, church-wide, or personal—that still bleeds. Carry it to God, seeking how to make amends, even at cost.
The chapter pivots to four quick duels with Philistine champions, all “descendants of Rapha.” Rapha is linked to the Rephaim, an ancient race of warriors whose reputation lingered like folklore (Deut 3:11). Gath, the Philistine city excavated at Tell es-Safi, has produced massive city walls and iron weapons dating to this period—fitting the text’s memory of giant fighters.
Each mini-story repeats a rhythm:
• A giant rises.
• David or his men grow weary.
• God grants victory through unexpected hands.
Literary device: The writer uses repetition to say, “What God began with David and Goliath, He continues even when David is tired.” Augustine read these verses allegorically: David’s men are later believers, slaying spiritual giants that still stalk the land.
Modern connection: fatigue makes heroes vulnerable (v. 15). Wise teams step in: “You must not go out with us to battle again, or the lamp of Israel will be extinguished” (v. 17). Seasoned servants need space to refuel; younger warriors need room to rise.
• Justice and Mercy Kiss. A broken oath brings famine; a costly, even
painful, settlement brings rain. At the cross, justice and mercy meet
forever (Ps 85:10; Rom 3:25-26).
• Corporate Guilt and Corporate Grace. Western cultures prize
individualism, yet Scripture often speaks “we.” Daniel confessed
national sin he personally had not done (Dan 9). 2 Samuel 21 invites us
to intercede for historic wrongs—slavery, prejudice, broken treaties,
misuse of creation.
• The “Lifted Up” Atonement. Seven sons hang for Saul’s sin; one Son
hangs for ours (Gal 3:13). Rizpah’s long watch whispers of Mary at
Golgotha; the early rain that ends her vigil whispers of Pentecost.
Major voices:
– John Chrysostom, in a homily on Galatians, cited this chapter to show
why Christ had to become “a curse for us.”
– Martin Luther, lecturing on 2 Samuel, called Rizpah “a gospel figure,
keeping faith when kings forget.”
– Dietrich Bonhoeffer read the Gibeonites’ demand as a warning against
“cheap grace”—a wound cannot be healed by words alone; something has to
die.
Hymn for reflection: “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” (George Matheson, 1882). Sing it imagining Rizpah beneath the storm-clouded sky and yourself beneath the cross.
Faithful God, You remember every promise and You see every
tear.
Uncover the hidden faults that parch our lives.
Grant us courage to make costly things right,
steadfast love to sit with the grieving,
and fresh strength to fell the giants that still roam.
Send Your cleansing rain, and keep the lamp of Your people burning
until the day all wrongs are made right in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen.