Broken Kingdoms: WK1 - FRI
Kingdoms of Dust - 1 Samuel 18:6-15
When the victorious Israelite army was returning home after David had killed the Philistine, women from all the towns of Israel came out to meet King Saul. They sang and danced for joy with tambourines and cymbals. This was their song:
“Saul has killed his thousands,
and David his ten thousands!”
This made Saul very angry. “What’s this?” he said. “They credit David with ten thousands and me with only thousands. Next they’ll be making him their king!” So from that time on Saul kept a jealous eye on David.
The very next day a tormenting spirit from God overwhelmed Saul, and he began to rave in his house like a madman. David was playing the harp, as he did each day. But Saul had a spear in his hand, and he suddenly hurled it at David, intending to pin him to the wall. But David escaped him twice.
Saul was then afraid of David, for the LORD was with David and had turned away from Saul. Finally, Saul sent him away and appointed him commander over 1,000 men, and David faithfully led his troops into battle.
David continued to succeed in everything he did, for the LORD was with him. When Saul recognized this, he became even more afraid of him.
1 Samuel 31:3, 6
The fighting grew very fierce around Saul, and the Philistine archers caught up with him and wounded him severely.
So Saul, his three sons, his armor bearer, and his troops all died together that same day.
Jealousy transforms productive partnerships into destructive competition. What could be more predictable than a person in power resenting praise given to an equal or someone under their leadership?
Goliath’s body has barely hit the ground, and people are singing David’s praises. The underdog quickly becomes the hero. By rights, Saul should have faced the giant. Does this make the cheering hit harder? Is there extra spice because it’s the women singing of David’s feats? Would Saul have reacted differently if the numbers hadn’t directly compared his accomplishments to the boy wonder? In any case, a rift begins, quickly spiraling out of control. Almost immediately, Saul becomes murderous with rage. He turns an ally into a lifelong enemy.
You don’t have to be the king, top dog, or the one in charge to feel jealousy this way. It can happen at any level in the pecking order.
I grew up in a household filled with love as the middle child, with my little sister Karyl and an older brother Lowell. My father was a pastor, and we moved frequently. But life was full of joy, thanks to the constant presence of my sibling companions as best friends.
Our family moved once again as I started my sophomore year of high school, Lowell’s senior year. Through no fault of my older brother, students at our new school often called us by nicknames—“Big Fergie” for him and “Little Fergie” for me—a label I took as an insult to my skinny frame, whether it was intentional or not. Lowell was an outstanding athlete, well-built, and handsome. My small size had always made me feel inadequate and unattractive, especially when compared to him. It didn’t help that I often received his hand-me-down clothes, which didn’t fit because of the differences in our proportions.
Jealousy and borrowed hurt fueled my insecurities, causing me to react out of envy. During that school year, when fellow students called me “Little Fergie” in Lowell’s presence, I would jump in to cut them off before they could compare and call him “Big Fergie.” I would grab my spear and hurl it, blurting out that he was “Ugly Fergie.” It was absurd to suggest that he was ugly. He clearly was not. Lowell would simply chuckle, which I took to mean he wasn’t offended.
Over the years, I’ve become more aware of how easily words can hurt and influence us. While Lowell never fought back or returned insults, I am ashamed and saddened that I let jealousy cause me to lash out at him. Fortunately, his maturity prevented us from losing our relationship.
Often, rifts between allies arise from actions by those outside the core relationship. This was true with Saul, David, and the cheering crowds. As jealousy grew, javelins were thrown, plots were devised, furious anger escalated, and armies were sent into battle. So much energy was diverted from God’s calling to petty infighting that, ultimately, Israel’s first king became unremarkable. Once anointed by God, Saul was rejected for his selfishness. Instead of leaving a lasting legacy, his story ends in loss on a dusty Philistine battlefield.
When the victorious Israelite army was returning home after David had killed the Philistine, women from all the towns of Israel came out to meet King Saul. They sang and danced for joy with tambourines and cymbals. This was their song:
“Saul has killed his thousands,
and David his ten thousands!”
This made Saul very angry. “What’s this?” he said. “They credit David with ten thousands and me with only thousands. Next they’ll be making him their king!” So from that time on Saul kept a jealous eye on David.
The very next day a tormenting spirit from God overwhelmed Saul, and he began to rave in his house like a madman. David was playing the harp, as he did each day. But Saul had a spear in his hand, and he suddenly hurled it at David, intending to pin him to the wall. But David escaped him twice.
Saul was then afraid of David, for the LORD was with David and had turned away from Saul. Finally, Saul sent him away and appointed him commander over 1,000 men, and David faithfully led his troops into battle.
David continued to succeed in everything he did, for the LORD was with him. When Saul recognized this, he became even more afraid of him.
1 Samuel 31:3, 6
The fighting grew very fierce around Saul, and the Philistine archers caught up with him and wounded him severely.
So Saul, his three sons, his armor bearer, and his troops all died together that same day.
Jealousy transforms productive partnerships into destructive competition. What could be more predictable than a person in power resenting praise given to an equal or someone under their leadership?
Goliath’s body has barely hit the ground, and people are singing David’s praises. The underdog quickly becomes the hero. By rights, Saul should have faced the giant. Does this make the cheering hit harder? Is there extra spice because it’s the women singing of David’s feats? Would Saul have reacted differently if the numbers hadn’t directly compared his accomplishments to the boy wonder? In any case, a rift begins, quickly spiraling out of control. Almost immediately, Saul becomes murderous with rage. He turns an ally into a lifelong enemy.
You don’t have to be the king, top dog, or the one in charge to feel jealousy this way. It can happen at any level in the pecking order.
I grew up in a household filled with love as the middle child, with my little sister Karyl and an older brother Lowell. My father was a pastor, and we moved frequently. But life was full of joy, thanks to the constant presence of my sibling companions as best friends.
Our family moved once again as I started my sophomore year of high school, Lowell’s senior year. Through no fault of my older brother, students at our new school often called us by nicknames—“Big Fergie” for him and “Little Fergie” for me—a label I took as an insult to my skinny frame, whether it was intentional or not. Lowell was an outstanding athlete, well-built, and handsome. My small size had always made me feel inadequate and unattractive, especially when compared to him. It didn’t help that I often received his hand-me-down clothes, which didn’t fit because of the differences in our proportions.
Jealousy and borrowed hurt fueled my insecurities, causing me to react out of envy. During that school year, when fellow students called me “Little Fergie” in Lowell’s presence, I would jump in to cut them off before they could compare and call him “Big Fergie.” I would grab my spear and hurl it, blurting out that he was “Ugly Fergie.” It was absurd to suggest that he was ugly. He clearly was not. Lowell would simply chuckle, which I took to mean he wasn’t offended.
Over the years, I’ve become more aware of how easily words can hurt and influence us. While Lowell never fought back or returned insults, I am ashamed and saddened that I let jealousy cause me to lash out at him. Fortunately, his maturity prevented us from losing our relationship.
Often, rifts between allies arise from actions by those outside the core relationship. This was true with Saul, David, and the cheering crowds. As jealousy grew, javelins were thrown, plots were devised, furious anger escalated, and armies were sent into battle. So much energy was diverted from God’s calling to petty infighting that, ultimately, Israel’s first king became unremarkable. Once anointed by God, Saul was rejected for his selfishness. Instead of leaving a lasting legacy, his story ends in loss on a dusty Philistine battlefield.
- What nicknames have you been called? How do you feel about them? Why do you feel that way?
- Describe a time in your life when you reacted out of jealousy. Why did you respond that way? What was the outcome?
- What is happening in your life right now that tempts you to react with jealousy? How can you prevent that reaction? What would you like to say to Jesus about it?
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