Ex. 15:2 Sam. 6.
1905 259 Two women who held prominent positions in Israel form a striking contrast to each other, and may serve as an example and a beacon to us in these last times. Both were closely linked with leaders of God's people, for one was the sister of Moses, the other the wife of David. Both were witnesses of God's gracious care of His people, and His deliverance of them from the hand of their enemies; and each had reason to rejoice that His chosen instrument for the accomplishment of His designs was the one who held or at any rate should have held the dearest place in her heart. The one recognised her privileges, and responded with joyful thanksgiving; the other tried by her bitter contemptuous words to infuse wormwood into her husband's cup of holy gladness.
When Jehovah had led His chosen people triumphantly through the Red Sea, and their once dreaded foes lay "dead upon the seashore," they with Moses as the leader of their thanksgiving sent up to heaven the grateful song, "I will sing unto Jehovah, for He hath triumphed gloriously: the horse and his rider hath He thrown into the sea."
And Miriam the sister of Moses and Aaron, timbrel in hand, led forth the women in the dance re-echoing her brother's words, and encouraging him and his fellow-singers.
She did not seek to damp his enthusiasm; she did not suggest that he had better be a little more collected and dignified in manner, better think a little more of his position as leader — nay, almost king — in Israel, and leave the management of such matters as singing to a less lofty personage. No, she took up the very words he had used, and (doubtless from a full heart) urged a continuance of the songs of praise. "Sing ye unto Jehovah" was her refrain, "Sing ye unto Jehovah, for He hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath He thrown into the sea"!
True, there was an occasion later on, on which Miriam forgot the respect due to the God-appointed station and noble character of her younger brother, and joined Aaron in uttering jealous and seditious speeches against him. But we may safely conclude that sad episode to have been an exception to the general tenor of her life, since the Holy Spirit speaks of her as the "prophetess" (Ex. 15:20), and also honourably associates her name with those of her brothers as a leader of God's chosen people (Micah 6:4).
A few hundred years later another woman of exalted position had the opportunity of helping and encouraging, not her brother but her husband, in his actions of thanksgiving to the God who had delivered and blessed him and His people.
How did she make use of her opportunity?
David was bringing the ark of God after many years of seclusion to its rightful place in Jerusalem, "the city of the great king." His heart was filled with gratitude and praise, and, laying aside his royal robes, and clad simply in a "robe of fine linen" and a "linen ephod," he gave vent to his joy in "leaping and dancing before Jehovah," as well as triumphant shouts in which he was joined by all Israel.
But what about his wife Michal?
Looking out of her window she beheld this, to her unseemly exhibition, and with a heart cold and untouched by the feelings with which the heart of David glowed, she secretly despised her once ardently loved husband. The triumphant entry into the city over, and the ark placed in "the tabernacle that David had pitched for it," he "offered burnt offerings and peace-offerings before Jehovah." David's was not the emotional joy of nature, it must have a firm foundation in that which prefigured the sacrifice of Christ; all other joy, he knew was vain and fleeting.
Having worshipped God, the giver of all good his thoughts now turned to His people: "he blessed them in the name of Jehovah of hosts," and provided generously too for their temporal needs Then, his public ministry over, he was not forgetful of his domestic relationships. "Then David returned to bless his household."
But what kind of greeting met him at the door Did Michal, his wife, come out to meet him like Jephthah's daughter "with timbrels and with dances"? Were her lips filled like Miriam's with a song of praise to Jehovah? Or, if such a public display would in those later days have been unseemly in a queen, did she at least come to meet her husband with words of loving sympathy and congratulations? Alas, no! Far from repenting of the feeling of contempt which had arisen in her heart as she had witnessed David's entry into the city, she had nursed it until it now broke out in bitter sneering words unworthy of a woman, a wife, and a queen — wholly unworthy of a woman who was the wife of the "man after God's own heart."
"How glorious was the king of Israel today"! she sarcastically exclaimed. David's linen robe and priestly ephod were contemptible in her eyes: the royal robes were what she valued. She could appreciate the king, but not the worshipper. And no doubt to any eye but the eye of faith, there was something ludicrous and unbecoming in the scene she had just witnessed. A king dancing, leaping and shouting in the presence of his subjects!
Ah! but David's reply makes it all clear. "It was before Jehovah." Yes, that was the secret of his self-forgetfulness. To him, it was not in the presence of his people that he had acted thus, but in the presence of Jehovah. Before his people no doubt it was quite right to wear his royal robes, and behave with dignity, in short to show himself "every inch a king." But in the presence of Jehovah, and on a special occasion of thanksgiving, he was a worshipper rather than a king: not the gorgeous robes of state became him, but the plain linen garment and the priestly ephod.
But this was a secret of which "Michal, the daughter of Saul," knew nothing. When David had previously disobeyed God's command by having the ark carried in a new cart instead of by the Levites, we do not read that Michal or anyone else found fault with him; but now, when he had judged his error, and was acting in full accordance with the mind of God, Satan immediately stirred up an adversary against him in his own home.
Is there no instruction for us in this? Are we joyfully adding our voices to the chorus of praise going up to our God? Are we, even if ourselves debarred from much active service, helping and encouraging God's servants by our loving sympathy? or are we acting as dampers, cold or lukewarm ourselves, and throwing cold water on the praises and labours of others in whose hearts there dwells a greater wealth of love and gratitude than in our own?
Are we Miriams or Michals? H.