Events of recent years led me to think again about Gene Edwards' account of David's departure from Saul's court in A Tale of Three Kings. When I first read it years ago, I was struck by the utter humility and resignation of David who, having successfully dodged the spears (and pretended not to see them!) without throwing them back, chose to leave quietly...and alone. David knew how to absorb the pain and the insult, and leave, neither returning the favour nor taking others with him.

As I developed further in my thinking, I began to wonder whether Edwards' portrait should always be taken at face value and directly applied. When one sins against you, is it not most charitable to point out his fault and invite him to repentance? Did Jesus not instruct us to do so in Matthew 18? My answer was to be found in the two biblical accounts of David's confrontation of Saul. Twice he was given the opportunity to kill Saul, but refused to do so. In each of those incidents he not only spared Saul, but spoke the truth to the mad king about his unjust persecution as well as David's own innocence and merciful treatment of Saul. In this story I heard the call to speak the truth in love to those who sin against me and to invite them to repentance.

Now as I revisit the story, I see yet another aspect of David's response. David did not confront Saul with his sin while he was still serving in Saul's court, within reach of Saul's spear. David only confronted Saul from a safe distance. He may have been emotionally and relationally vulnerable, but was physically safe - out of reach of his deadly spear. Furthermore, he provided clear and undeniable evidence of his own innocence and Saul's guilt. Saul had to be jolted out of his self-deception, even if only temporarily.

David was decidedly non-retaliatory, charitably confrontational, but never reckless in his dealings with the mad king. We have much to learn from the shepherd of Israel.

As I read the book of Esther recently, I found myself being powerfully moved by the turn in the plot at which Esther successfully turns the king against Haman the villain. Mordecai and the Jews had experienced much injustice at his hands. But at last the truth is laid out plainly and the king grasps it. Things are about to be turned right-side up, and the righteous vindicated. I long for that because of the anger in me at perceived injustices. I long for the Lord to return and to make all things right.

But even as I write, I realise that my judgements may not necessarily coincide with God's righteous judgements. Not only am I a victim, but I am also a perpetrator. To paraphrase Solzhenitsyn, the line that divides between good and evil runs not between, but through each of us...through me. We must heed Amos' warning: "Woe to you who long for the day of the LORD!" The sword of judgement will certainly pierce my heart. Even so...come, Lord Jesus! It is far better to be exposed and ultimately made pure than to drift on through life in a state of perpetual ambivalence.

But perhaps this is too bleak of a picture to paint. The fire of judgement does invade the present from the future. That cleansing fire of the Holy Spirit that envelopes and carries the sword of Christ's word of judgement does leap and curl and fly to reach our hearts where we are unafraid to leave it exposed, unencased by our stubborn foolish pride and self-deception. May I be one who is unafraid to leave my heart exposed to the stinging - and strangely comforting - wisps of his cleansing fire.