CBFC Worship Service 7/5/2026

Amen.

Good morning.

Can you hear me?

I'll yell.

It's lovely to be here with you all this morning.

And to worship the Lord and to sing again of his love for us, how he loves us.

And he does love us.

So be reminded of that again this morning as we uh dive into God's Word.

My name is Daniel.

We're gonna be in 1 Samuel 22 today.

There we go.

Continuing in the story of 1 Samuel.

If you want to grab a copy of God's Word, there's some in the back as well, and in the hall will be in chapter 22, beginning in verse 6.

There is a deadly virus going around, infecting billions, not the Hantavirus, not the coronavirus, something far more pervasive, something far more deadly, not just to the body, but to the soul, to relationships, to the church, the kingdom of God, to the world as we know it.

And we've all seen its symptoms in lots of different places.

We've seen it in toddlers, for example.

A three-year-old asks another child if he can play with his toy truck, and the other child says, no, I'm using it, and instantly the bottom lip comes out, and he storms into the corner and crosses his arms and begins screaming and crying.

There's 20 other toys scattered across the room, but at that moment his entire world has become about this one thing that he can't have.

Poor me, right?

We've seen this disease in grade school children as well.

An eight-year-old isn't picked for kickball at recess, and you know, the game hasn't even started, but she's already decided nobody likes her, and rather than joining in and enjoying the afternoon, she spends the rest of the time at recess sitting alone, pouting, rehearsing how unfair everyone has been to her, and later tells mom that, you know, the other kids left her out and wouldn't play with her.

We've all seen this in teenagers.

A high school student studies for an exam but earns a C plus instead of the A that he hoped for.

And suddenly the teacher is unfair, and the grading was impossible, and no one appreciated how hard he worked, how intensely he studied for a full half hour.

Instead of asking what he can learn or how he can improve or how he can work harder, he spends the evening convincing himself that he's been treated unjustly.

This is unfairness against him.

And we've all seen this in adults as well.

Maybe even in ourselves, we've we're overlooked for a promotion.

Our spouse forgets to thank us for something we did, a friend disappoints us, someone criticizes us, or simply fails to notice all the sacrifices we've made, and before long, we've quietly become the misunderstood hero of our own story.

Every criticism, every disappointment, every inconvenience gets interpreted through the question: what about me?

Does no one feel sorry for me?

Now we can call that discouragement and burnout and frustration and feeling unappreciated and being mistreated and having it hard, and sometimes that's legitimate, it is.

But sometimes something much more dangerous has taken root.

The Bible often calls it pride.

Not the loud, boastful pride that demands applause, but the quieter kind, the subtle kind, the kind that quietly curls our hearts inward toward our own difficulty and whispers, No one understands me, no one appreciates me, no one feels sorry for me.

And that's exactly where we find King Saul in 1 Samuel 22.

Experiencing the same kind of prideful self-pity that we all wrestle with from the time we're toddlers, and watching it wreak havoc on the world around him, as it will do to us too.

So let's hear now from God's word and read the diagnosis of this virus and of its cure.

I invite you to stand with me if you're able to honor the reading of God's word from 1 Samuel chapter 22.

1 Samuel 22 · chapter mention

Beginning in verse 6, the word of God reads as follows.

Now Saul heard that David was discovered, and the men who were with him.

Saul was sitting at Gibeah under the tamarisk tree on the height with his spear in his hand, and all his servants were standing about him.

And Saul said to his servants who stood about him, Hear now, people of Benjamin, will the son of Jesse give every one of you fields and vineyards and vineyards?

Will he make you all commanders of thousands and commanders of hundreds, that you all have conspired against me?

No one discloses to me when my son makes a covenant with the son of Jesse.

None of you is sorry for me, or discloses to me that my son has stirred up my servant against me to lie in wait, as at this day.

Then answered Doeg, the Edomite, who stood by the servants of Saul.

I saw the son of Jesse coming to Nob to Ahimelech the son of Ahitub, and he inquired of the Lord for him, and gave him provisions, and gave him the sword of Goliath the Philistine.

Then the king sent to summon Ahimelech, the priest, the son of Ahitub, and all his father's house, the priests who were at Nob, and all of them came to the king, and Saul said to them, Hear now, son of Ahitub.

And he answered, Here I am, my lord.

Saul said to him, Why have you conspired against me, you and the son of Jesse, in that you have given him bread and a sword and have inquired of God for him, so that he has risen against me to lie in wait as at this day.

Then Ahimelech answered the king, And who among all your servants is so faithful as David, who is the king's son-in-law, and captain over your bodyguard and honored in your house?

Is today the first time that I have inquired of God for him?

No.

Let not the king impute anything to his servant, or to all the house of my father, for your servant has known nothing of all this, much or little.

And the king said, You shall surely die, Ahimelech, you and all your father's house.

And the king said to the guard who stood about him, Turn and kill the priests of the Lord, because their hand also is with David.

And they knew that he fled and did not disclose it to me.

But the servants of the king would not put out their hand to strike the priests of the Lord.

Then the king said to Doeg, You turn and strike the priests.

And Doeg the Edomite turned and struck down the priests, and he killed on that day eighty-five persons who wore the linen Ephed.

And Nob, the city of the priests, he put to the sword, both man and woman, child and infant, ox, donkey, and sheep he put to the sword.

But one of the sons of Ahimelech, the son of Ahitub, named Abathar, escaped and fled after David.

And Abyathar told David that Saul had killed the priests of the Lord, and David said to Abby Athar, I knew on that day when Doeg the Edomite was there that he would surely tell Saul, I have occasioned the death of all the persons of your father's house.

Stay with me.

Do not be afraid, for he who seeks my life seeks your life, and with me you shall be in safekeeping.

This is God's word.

Please be seated.

Will you pray with me?

Lord Jesus.

How humble of a king you are.

To choose the most prideful of men to speak your word this morning.

Would you humble me and humble each of us to receive your word today?

That you, our great Lord, our Savior and Friend, would meet with us here now by your Holy Spirit to speak the truth of the gospel, of your cross and your resurrection.

We pray this in your name, Lord, and for your glory.

Amen.

This morning we're going to look at this tale of two kings, Saul and David.

First, we'll watch how the pride of self-pity slowly poisons Saul's heart until it destroys everything around him.

And then we'll turn to King David and see how humility produces an entirely different kind of kingdom, a kingdom that ultimately points us to Jesus, the true king, whose humility alone can cure hearts poisoned by self-pity.

So let's begin with Saul.

Saul, at this moment in the story, is the ruling king of God's people, Israel.

But God has chosen and anointed another king to take his place, David.

And Saul does not like that.

Everyone loves David.

Saul hates David, he's filled with envy, and so he's been trying to remove David from the picture.

And for the past few weeks, we've been following David in his desperate attempts to flee from this tyrant.

But now the story shifts focus back to King Saul.

And as we come to Saul, we find him sitting down in the shade on a mountaintop, holding his favorite spear, as always.

He's always got a spear in his hand every time he comes, he's just ready to hurl it at someone that damages his big ego.

And he's surrounded by all his servants, his commanders and advisors.

Now, we've just come from David, who by comparison doesn't look all that great.

He's been hungry and helpless and homeless and hiding in a cave.

So by comparison, it looks like Saul's doing okay.

He's got weapons and servants and warriors and power.

He's got everything in order, all of his men around him.

But notice what comes out of Saul's mouth.

It's not military strategy.

It's not concern for the people of Israel.

It's not grief over the Philistines.

It's not a psalm.

Saul never writes a psalm.

It's not Psalm 57 or Psalm 142, like David is singing in the cave right now.

It's not prayer, it's pride.

Taking the form of self-pity.

Listen to him.

He says, All of you have conspired against me.

Everyone's against me.

No one discloses to me that my son has stirred up my servant against me.

None of you is sorry for me.

It's just, poor me, poor me, poor old Saul.

Everyone's against me.

No one likes me.

No one helps me.

No one is sorry for me.

And that I think is the key line.

Verse 8, none of you is sorry for me, he says.

Which really unlocks for us Saul's heart and the rest of this chapter, because this isn't simply discouragement or frustration with his circumstances.

This is pride.

We tend to think of pride as like arrogance, as boasting, as someone who constantly talks about how great they are.

And that's one side of pride.

That's one side of the pride coin, but there's another side of pride too, and it's called self-pity.

Boasting says, look how wonderful I am.

Self-pity says, look how miserable I am.

But both of them are saying, look at me.

It's a heart curled inward in obsession with self.

Boasting is pride's response to success.

Self-pity is pride's response to suffering.

Boasting wants attention for being so great.

Self-pity wants attention for being so burdened or mistreated or overlooked in some way.

But they're two sides to the same coin.

Which is why self-pity can be so deceptive, right?

It feels humble to put yourself down because it doesn't sound like arrogance, but in reality, it's just pride turned negative.

Instead of saying, look at all I've accomplished, it says, look at all I've suffered, look at how hard I have it, look how no one appreciates me.

That's Saul right here.

And it has devastating effects.

We'll look at three just to summarize.

First, pride distorts his vision.

Notice how self-pity changes the way Saul sees the world around him.

He begins imagining conspiracy, he begins thinking that everyone is out to get him, everyone's against him, and none of it's true.

His servants haven't betrayed him.

Jonathan isn't staging a coup, Ahimelech isn't plotting treason, David isn't around the corner planning to kill him.

In fact, he'll get multiple opportunities to, and he doesn't.

And yet Saul interprets every person and every event through the lens of his own wounded ego.

He doesn't see reality anymore.

He's blinded by self-pity.

And that's what self-pity can do to us.

We begin reading in motives in other people that aren't there.

We begin assigning malicious intent where there is none.

We assume criticism where none was intended.

Someone forgets to thank us and suddenly they don't appreciate us or love us anymore.

Someone disagrees with us and now they're against us and they're not my friend.

Someone offers me criticism and suddenly they dislike me and they think they're better than me and they're trying to tear me down.

If you consistently assume negative intentions, if you consistently, without evidence, assign malicious motives to other people and really struggle to give others the benefit of the doubt, you might, you might struggle with the intoxicating poison of self-pity.

I'm speaking as someone who struggles with this personally, so please don't hear me talking down on you.

The pride of self-pity distorts our vision.

And once self-pity distorts Saul's vision, it inevitably destroys his relationships.

His own son Jonathan is now seen as his enemy.

His daughter Michael, we saw in chapter 19, is viewed as an obstacle and an opponent.

His best, most loyal servants are now viewed as conspirators.

The high priest, Ahimelech, is seen as a traitor.

The rest of the priests are seen as a threat to Saul's kingdom and as expendable individuals.

And when self becomes the center of our universe, either through boasting or through self-pity, people around us stop being people.

They stop being neighbors to love and they become either obstacles or objects.

They become either obstacles that hinder us in our way or objects that we use to get on our way.

When we become entrenched in the pitiful cries of why does everything bad happen to me?

No one else understands.

No one cares about me.

I'm worthless.

When we become consumed by our own hurt, we become blind to the hurts of others, unable to serve others, to give of ourselves to others.

Now I'm not saying, of course, that you can't feel hurt, that you can't be discouraged, that you can't grieve.

Of course, there's absolutely a place for that.

We need to hurt and to grieve the reality of the world.

What I'm saying is the obsession of our own pain, that self-pity is, will shrink my world until there's room only for one person's pain left, and that's my own.

When we have hearts that are so curled inward on our own struggles, they shrink our world until there's room only for our own pain.

And that kind of self-centeredness is the opposite of genuine love out of which true relationships flourish.

It is a destroyer of relationships.

And quickly and quietly, we can become like Saul, who doesn't ask, how can I serve these people?

Only are these people serving me?

And because his vision is distorted by self-pity, he can only see them as a threat.

Which brings us to the final tragedy of this dark and morbid story.

God made Saul king to save his people, to protect them, and instead he destroys them.

And this man called to defend the priests orders for their execution, and in doing so the king demolishes his own kingdom.

Doeg, the Edomite, a sort of mercenary hired by Saul from the enemies of God.

He steps up, he says, I saw Ahimelech conspiring with David.

And Saul simply takes his word for it.

He doesn't bother to get more evidence or to get a second or third witness like the law requires him to do.

He believes it.

And Ahimelech comes to him and he gives a really honest and eloquent and kind and gentle defense.

He says, David is known to be reliable and faithful, Saul.

He's your own son-in-law, he's part of the royal family, he holds a high military office, he's honored in your house.

These aren't the marks of a wicked conspirator.

This is a good man, you know this.

And besides, I perform priestly functions for David all the time, with no questions asked.

Why is this suddenly an issue?

I didn't know anything about this.

It's very reasonable.

But Saul has no ears to hear reason.

He's completely blinded by self-pity.

He hears only what he wants to hear, and his self-pitying delusion becomes the grounds for mass violence as he orders the execution of 85 priests in an absolute bloodbath of insecurity.

He's trying so desperately to protect himself in his own little world of poor Saul, his little echo chamber of wallowing, that he ends up resorting in anger to mass violence.

And that's not unique to Saul.

Be cautious of too quickly differentiating yourself from Saul here.

We may not have the power to commit such atrocities, but this is what self-pity does in our hearts.

It leads to other sin.

It's kindling for other sinful fires, especially anger.

I recently saw a little girl take her younger brother's toy, the boy probably about two, maybe three, began screaming and crying and hitting his sister in a fit of angered self-pity.

Just like, you know, I've been wrong, this isn't fair, I don't deserve this, and so he attacks his sister.

Look, you don't have to teach children this kind of behavior.

They they come with this.

You don't have to teach a child self-pity.

You don't have to teach a child to respond to self-pity in anger.

You don't have to teach a child to act on that self-pitying anger in violence toward others.

We are born with this.

This is our nature.

Do you know why that little girl walked away from her brother moments later, alive and well?

Because he's weak.

That's it.

He wasn't holding back.

The thing restraining the damage that he could do with his violent, self-pitying assault, wasn't his morality.

It was his lack of power.

Had that two-year-old boy had the strength of a grown man, he would have left that little girl like a Himelech.

Friends, this is the nature of our hearts.

This is how wicked our sin is.

We need to understand that Saul here, at his worst, is not an anomaly.

At his most violent here, Saul is not an outlier.

He is what every person in this room has the potential of being when we allow self-pitying pride to rule in our hearts.

Apart from our lack of power and the grace of God restraining us in our unredeemed state, this would be us.

And anger and violence are just one side of it.

It's just one avenue that self-pity takes us.

The options, though, are endless.

John Bloom writes this: he says, Self-pity is a dangerous, deceitful, heart-hardening sin.

It is a spiritual deaden, choking faith, draining hope, killing joy, smothering love, fueling anger, and robbing any desire to serve others.

And, he writes, it is a feeder sin, encouraging us to comfort our poor selves with all manner of sinful indulgence like gossip, slander, gluttony, substance abuse, pornography, and binge entertainment, just to name a few.

That is Saul, and that is us.

Maybe not with a spear in our hand, maybe not ordering the execution of priests, but with the same heart, with the same sinful instinct to make ourselves the center of the story, to obsess on our own success or our own difficulty, the same pride that quietly whispers, no one understands, no one appreciates me, no one feels sorry for me.

It is a subtle and deadly disease.

Now, if Saul's story ended there, it it would leave us with nothing but a diagnosis.

It's a doctor saying, Here's the disease, good luck.

But thankfully, the story doesn't end with Saul, because while this one king is busy destroying everything and everyone around him, another king quietly enters the scene.

One king sacrifices his people to save himself, but another king shows up who sacrifices himself to save his people.

One king speaks death, you shall surely die, Saul says.

The other speaks life, refuge, safety.

Stay with me, do not be afraid.

With me you shall be safe.

Spirit doesn't leave our eyes fixed on Saul or even fixed on ourselves.

It turns them toward the anointed king.

And boy, what a contrast.

David, David has every reason to throw himself the biggest pity party in Israel.

He has been hunted like an animal.

If anyone has reason to say, poor me, it's David.

If anyone has reason to say, I'm the worst, it's David.

And yet, notice What comes out of David's mouth.

Not excuses, not blame shifting, not self-defense.

He says, I have occasioned the death of all the persons of your father's house.

What he does is he takes responsibility.

Saul is the most irresponsible man in the world at this point, and David is the one who takes responsibility for his own actions.

And this is where we discover that while self-pity distorts our vision, humility sees clearly.

Unlike Saul, David isn't blinded by insecurity.

He isn't asking, How can I protect my reputation or gain proper attention or approval?

He's asking, what responsibility is mine?

Now, David is not saying that he murdered the priests or anything like that.

Saul and Doeg are guilty of that evil.

But David refuses to hide behind technicalities.

He humbly acknowledges that his actions did play a part in this tragedy.

Pride shifts the blame.

Humility sees our failures clearly and accepts responsibility.

We learn from David here that confessing our sins to one another, acknowledging our faults to fellow believers, especially those whom we have wronged, is a key element of the humble Christian life and an important antidote to the deadly virus of self-pity.

We need to confess our sins.

We need to have the humility to see ourselves clearly and to acknowledge it.

Not just to God, that's important.

Confess your sins to God, but also confess to one another.

Humility sees clearly.

And not only that, but humility serves others.

David doesn't stop with his confession, but he turns to Abbiathar, a man who's just lost his father and his family and his home and his fellow priests.

And David says, Stay with me, and do not be afraid.

With me you shall be in safe keeping.

See the difference between these two kings?

Saul is demanding comfort and service from those around him.

David is offering it to those around him.

Saul uses people to preserve himself.

David here begins laying himself down to preserve others.

Saul says, You shall surely die.

David says, with me you shall be safe.

Here again we learn from David that serving others and laying down our interest for the good of those around us is a key aspect of the humble Christian life and an important remedy to the deadly virus of self-pity.

And in these final verses, we see that while pride demolished Saul's kingdom, humility strengthens the true kingdom.

Saul has driven away the prophet Samuel, he's driven away the people of God, those who are bitter and in debt and broken.

He's killed off now the priests.

But a new prophet has come to David.

The distressed and indebted have gathered around David.

A new high priest now comes to David.

A new prophet, a new people, a new priest have all come to gather around a new king as an army is growing in a cave, and God is quietly building his kingdom around his chosen humble servant.

David's humility creates a place of refuge where God's prophet, God's priest, and God's people can flourish together.

And while Saul's self-pity tears God's kingdom apart, David's humility becomes the kind of soil in which God's kingdom grows.

Same is true for us today.

Our humility is the rich soil out of which the kingdom of God grows and grows in this church and takes over Red Hill and the world as we know it.

But as beautiful as David is in this chapter, David is not the cure.

David is given here as a picture to point us to the true cure.

Think about it.

David accepts responsibility, but he can't undo the death of these people.

And he offers refuge, but he can only offer it to a few, and only for a short while.

And he strengthens God's kingdom for a moment, but eventually David himself will fail.

And David will fall into pride, and David too will misuse his power, and he, like Saul, will become guilty of murder.

Which means the Spirit isn't ultimately inviting us to admire David in this story.

He's inviting us to admire David's greater son, King Jesus.

Jesus Christ was a king who had every right to demand honor and glory and praise and adoration.

He is the eternal son of God, the one through whom the universe exists, the one for whom the universe exists.

If anyone deserved to be served and admired and worshipped and loved, it's Jesus.

And yet Philippians 2 tells us that he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, to be wielded for his own advantage, but he emptied himself by taking on the form of a slave.

And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

When Christ was misunderstood, he didn't retaliate.

When he was rejected, he didn't wallow in self-pity.

When he was mocked, beaten, spit upon, nailed to a cross, he didn't cry, No one is sorry for me, he cried, Father, forgive them.

That's the king we need, and that is the king who offers himself to each and every one of us this morning.

And that means that there is hope for proud and pitiful sinners like us.

If you're here today, burdened by the heavy weight of your sin, ashamed of the ways that you have made life all about yourself, do not shrink away from this kind and humble king.

Don't allow the self-pity you feel when listening to a sermon on self-pity, beating you over the head with self-pity, allow you to shrink away in self-pity.

Run to Jesus like Abigail flies to David, fly to Christ.

He doesn't receive sinners with arms crossed and condemnation like Saul.

He's not hasty to execute judgment.

He is eager to give you refuge in himself like David, to provide you safety and a new life.

He receives sinners with open arms and with joyful forgiveness.

He says in Matthew 11, Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.

For I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

That is the offer of Jesus Christ.

Come to him with all your mess, with all your brokenness, with all your self-pity, with all your pride, and say, I need Jesus, and you will have Christ.

You will have newness in him, and you will have rest for your soul.

Come to him again and again and again.

That's exactly what we come to celebrate and to enjoy at this table this morning.

And the Lord's Supper, Christ, doesn't merely remind us of his humility from a distance, but by his spirit, he graciously nourishes our faith as we commune with our risen Savior.

Here, the King who gave himself for his people, welcomes needy sinners to himself.

Again and again, not the righteous, the broken, assuring us that his grace is greater than our pride, his mercy deeper than our self-pity, his love sufficient to transform us into his likeness.

Come, you who belong to Jesus, who have been baptized into Christ, not trusting in yourselves, but in the humble King who gave himself for you.

Let's pray and then we'll partake of the Lord's Supper.

Lord Jesus, humble King, mighty God and everlasting Lord, would you humble our hearts this morning to be freed from the self-pitying pride that so powerfully burdens us.

Lord, we are weighed down, but your yoke is easy and your burden is light, and in you we have rest for our souls.

Jesus, restore us now in this meal that we take together and be glorified as we do.

We pray this in your name, Lord, and for your glory.

Amen.