Which Road to Choose

Which Road to Choose

It was not the yellow-hued woods of New England in the fall described by Robert Frost in his famous poem “The Road Not Taken.” Yet the decision made that day did “make all the difference.”

Looking back, one can only wonder about what might have been if the young man, standing at his personal fork in the road, had been more perceptive about the road toward leadership.

Jonathan was of royal blood. He was the son of Saul, king of Israel. Evidently, he was in line to succeed his father on the throne. But he knew that God had ordained leadership of the nation to David, son of Jesse. On the day described in 1 Samuel 23:15-18, Jonathan stood before his friend David and made a covenant.  David would be king and Jonathan his next in charge.

Jonathan’s loyalty to David was beyond question. Jonathan had already interceded with his father on David’s behalf. Jonathan had even spoiled his father’s deathful desires for David by covertly helping his friend escape Saul’s presence.

Now the two fast friends met in a tiny hamlet of Horesh, believed to be about six miles south of Hebron. Hardly big enough to be called a village, Horesh lay in the highlands of southern Judah. It was a grazing area with a few farms along the plateaus where crops could be tended among the trees of dates or olives.

To the east lay the wilderness of Ziph, a mountainous area practically void of vegetation except along the steep gullies that channeled winter rains down toward the Dead Sea. It was not a hospitable area. Life here was hard, nothing like the kingly courts Jonathan had known all his life.

David would be king; Jonathan, the next in charge. On that the two men agreed. But what about now? Would Jonathan stay with David? Would he share David’s hardships? Would he be David’s right-hand man now or only after David became king?

Jonathan had to choose between two roads. One left him a prince living in his father’s house. The other led toward the wilderness and all its dangers. One road was marked by duty to his father, by position and status; the other by a call from God. One road was lined with reason, the other by faith.

Jonathan took his road and it made all the difference. Jonathan was not there when David spared Saul’s life, not once but twice. Jonathan was not there when David and his followers fled to Gath. He was not there when David and his men wept because all their families had been
carried away by the Amalekites or when David successfully rescued them.

The next mention of Jonathan is in 1 Samuel 31 when the writer says, “And the Philistines overtook Saul and his sons and the Philistines killed Jonathan.”

Jonathan never was David’s next in charge. He never saw David become king. The covenant between the two was never fulfilled, even though each loved the other dearly. Second Samuel 21:13-14 describes David, then king of Israel, retrieving the bones of his friend and reburying them in the tomb of Kish in Zela of the land of Benjamin.

Again, one can only wonder about what might have been. Had Jonathan stayed with David, would the Bible tell a different story? Would the chronicle of Jonathan’s leadership in Israel been more consistent with the vow he made that day in Horesh?

Leadership demands recognition, recognition of opportunity to lead. The psalmist says that when the Lord is our rock and our fortress, He will lead us and guide us about the roads we should choose (Ps. 31:3).

It is the same whether one is in the yellow-hued woods of New England, the rocky outcroppings of the wilderness of Ziph or among the sights of Alabama the Beautiful.

Lord, give us eyes to see the opportunities and hearts to walk the roads You choose. Amen.