When Suspicion Steals Our Joy
One of the really intoxicating narratives that we can buy into is the idea that everyone is out to get us. It sounds extreme, but there is something undeniably seductive about it. That narrative grants us a kind of importance. After all, if the world is aligned against us, we must be deeply significant people.
But as tempting as that thought is, it is also deeply destructive. Once we step into that story, it becomes incredibly difficult to see our reality clearly. We stop evaluating the world honestly. We lose the ability to perceive real threats and to dismiss false ones. Everything becomes distorted through a lens of suspicion.
This dynamic plays out powerfully in the story of Saul and David. After a major victory, the people of Israel come out to celebrate. They sing, "Saul has killed his thousands, but David his tens of thousands." At first glance, that sounds like a comparison. But when we look more closely at the Hebrew, we find something different. There are no precise numbers here. The words are descriptive, not specific body counts. A better translation might be something like, "Our two heroes have done a heck of a lot of killing in their time."
In Hebrew poetry, it's common to use parallel couplets: a statement followed by a restatement with emphasis. The intention here is to celebrate Saul and David equally, to emphasize the scale of their combined victory. The people even come out to meet King Saul, not David.
But Saul doesn't see it that way. For Saul, this is the moment that defines his descent into mistrust, anxiety, and ultimately paranoia. He alone hears a comparison where there is none. He imagines a threat where there is only praise. And that misperception steals from him what should have been his greatest moment as king.
Walter Brueggemann writes that the song likely intends to celebrate both men equally. There is no need for destructive comparison. There is enough joy to go around. But Saul can't see that. His growing insecurity and suspicion twist the joy into rivalry, and that marks the beginning of his downfall.
Here's the warning for us: once we adopt a worldview of mistrust, we begin to interpret everything through that lens. Even when the crowd is cheering for us, we hear it as criticism. Even when the world is full of beauty, we perceive only danger. And once that story takes root in our hearts, it becomes our reality.
If you look for enemies, you will find them. If you look for threats, you will perceive them everywhere. And if you look for demons in every dark shadow, you will begin to see them even behind every stubbed toe.
It is surprisingly easy to lose touch with reality when we want to. So let this story of Saul be a cautionary tale: trust is not naïve, and suspicion is not wisdom. Sometimes the best thing we can do is learn to accept love and celebration without fear.