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David is a well known foreshadow/forerunner of Jesus.

A Judahite from Bethlehem, a man appointed to look after his father’s flock, a conqueror of Israel’s enemies: so the list goes on.

Less well known, however, is the way David foreshadows a Messiah who *suffers*.

The OT is replete with foreshadows/pictures of the life of Jesus.

Due to David’s many victories in life, it’s easy to think of David as a slightly one-dimensional picture of Jesus:

David is the Messiah who conquers (in which sense his reign pictures Jesus’ return),

while other OT characters depict a Messiah who *suffers* (e.g., Joseph, the prophets, etc.).

When we consider David’s life in detail, however, a more complex picture starts to emerge.

David was no stranger to hardships.

Betrayed by those closest to him, well acquainted with the shame of sin, exiled from his kingdom: David knew what it was like to suffer.

These more painful aspects of David’s life are brought out by a noteworthy midrash on the book of Ruth—viz. Ruth Rabbah §5.6—,

where David’s life is compared to the life of Isaiah 53’s servant,

and where, more remarkably, Isaiah 53’s servant is identified as the Messiah.

Ruth Rabbah’s (RR’s) commentary on Ruth 2.14 is unusually lengthy. While its commentary on 2.13 amounts to three or four sentences, its commentary of 2.14 fills three or four *pages*.

The text of Ruth 2.14 itself reads as follows:

The essence of RR’s claim is as follows.

Ruth 2.14 contains a sequence of intertextual connections,

which depict a rise, fall, and restoration of various figures in Israel’s history—a V-shaped temple.

‘To come and eat bread’ (גֹּשִׁי הֲלֹם וְאָכַלְתְּ מִן־הַלֶּחֶם) is associated with a rise to power and authority,

‘To sit beside the reapers’ and ‘dip one’s morsel in wine/vinegar’ is associated with a removal of authority and time of affliction.

And ‘to eat and be satisfied’ is associated with reinstatement/restoration.

As with many midrashic texts, the logic behind Ruth Rabbah’s claims isn’t easy to decipher.

Certainly, in its original context, Boaz’s invitation to Ruth to sit and eat bread with him in 2.14a represents an invitation to a position of privilege,

in which case one could (symbolically) view Ruth’s decision to ‘sit beside the reapers’ and ‘eat grain’ as a loss of authority—a relegation to the status of a commoner/labourer.

2.14’s intertextual allusions could be taken to confirm the point.

The rare word הֲלֹם—which occurs in Boaz’s command ‘Come here!’ (גֹּשִי הֲלֹם)—features both in Saul’s accession to the throne (1 Sam. 10.21–22) as well as in David’s (as Ruth Rabbah notes).

To ‘dip a morsel in wine/vinegar’ has negative connotations in Scripture,

since the sourness of vinegar is associated with discomfort (Psa. 69.21, Prov. 10.26, 25.20).

Meanwhile, the verb ‘dip’ could be thought to connect 2.14’s wine/vinegar with blood, since, more often than not, the verb ‘dip’ is accompanied by the prepositional phrase ‘in blood’ (cp. לטבול בדם: Gen. 37.31, Exod. 12.22, Lev. 4.6, 4.17, 9.9, etc.).

And ‘to eat and *not* be satisfied’ describes a state of abandonment (invariably connected with the exile: Lev. 26.26, Hos. 4.10, Mic. 6.14),

while ‘to eat and *be* satisfied’ describes the opposite, i.e., a time of restoration (e.g., Joel 2.26).

Furthermore, after Isaiah 53’s servant has been afflicted, he is said to be exalted and to be ‘satisfied’ with what he sees (Isa. 53.11).

Of course, such ‘exegesis’ isn’t the norm these days (and seems rather subjective).

But the connection which RR posits between the careers of David and Isaiah 53’s servant is instructive.

Consider, for a start, the similarity in both men’s rise to prominence.

Just as Isaiah’s servant was thought to have arisen ‘like a shoot from dry earth’ (Isa. 53.2b-3)—that is to say, just as Isaiah’s servant arose from an unexpected place—, so David’s rise was unexpected.

It’s easy to look back over Biblical history and imagine it was obvious the Messiah would arise from Judah. But it wasn’t.

Suppose you considered the history of Israel from Genesis 12 through to the end of the book of Judges,

...and suppose you tried to guess whose line would give rise to the Messiah.

Whose would you pick? Judah’s? I doubt it.

True, Judah’s line was marked out for greatness (Gen. 49.8, 10).

But Joseph’s line was marked out for an equally bright if not *brighter* future,

...both prophetically and historically:

Joseph was Jacob’s favourite and received the share of the firstborn (insofar as he inherited a double portion) (Gen. 48).

In Jacob’s benediction (Gen. 49), more is said about Joseph than about Jacob’s other sons (at least in terms of Gen. 49’s word-count),

which is also true of *Moses’s* benediction (Deut. 33), where a mere 12 words (of supplication) are devoted to Judah while 50 are devoted to Joseph (‘the prince among his brethren’).

The first Messianic figure to arise and overthrow the nations (namely Joshua) arose from the line of *Joseph*.

Joseph’s line is the first to be referred to as a ‘house’ in Israel (e.g., Josh. 17.17, Judg. 1.22, 10.9).

The central, most fruitful area of land in Israel went to Ephraim and Manasseh, where the tabernacle was pitched (in Shiloh) and from whence most of the judges ruled.

And so it goes on.

Hence, just as Isaiah’s servant (Jesus) arose from an unexpected place (Nazareth), so too did David.

As a result, David can plausibly be seen as a shoot which sprang up from ‘dry ground’—a man who didn’t have the ‘right’/expected background.

Indeed, in Psalm 78’s ‘dark parable’, the element of surprise in the Psalm is precisely God’s rejection of Joseph and his selection of Judah instead.

Contra man’s expectations, God chose David as his Messiah.

Israel would be governed not by a man from Ephraim, but by a shepherd taken ‘from the sheepfolds’ (Psa. 78.1–2, 67–68, 70)—hardly a glamorous occupation (cp. 1 Sam. 16.11, 17.28).

The image of a young shoot which arises from dry ground also resonates with the life of David in other ways.

When David first enters the Biblical narrative, he is disparaged because of his ‘youth’ (1 Sam. 17.33, 42),

and his origins are a source of confusion (at least to Saul, who inquires about David’s background on more than one occasion: 1 Sam. 17.55, 58).

In addition, David’s ‘outward form’ is worthy of note.

Just as Isaiah’s servant lacked the outward form (מַרְאֶה) his people expected/desired of him (Isa. 53.2b–3), so too did David.

True, David was a physically attractive man (1 Sam. 16.12).

But David’s attractiveness is only mentioned in the Biblical narrative once he’s already been overlooked as a candidate for God’s Messiah (by both his father and his brothers)...

...and once God has told Samuel not to try to second guess his choice of a Messiah on the basis of people’s outward form (מַרְאֶה) (cp. 1 Sam. 16.5–11).

Furthermore, like Isaiah’s servant, David is ‘belittled/despised’ (נבזה) on the basis of his physical appearance (cp. 1 Sam. 17.24 w. Isa. 53.3).

What men find attractive is often very different from what *God* finds attractive (and what *is*, ipso facto, attractive).

The picture of David painted in the Biblical narrative is thus a multi-dimensional one.

Equally important to note are the textual connections between David’s *Psalms* and Isaiah 53.

Since Isaiah is a prophetic book, we’d expect it to share a fair amount of vocabulary with the book of Psalms—and it does.

But Isaiah’s descriptions of his servant’s afflictions have a specific overlap of vocabulary with Psalms in which David describes his personal afflictions.

Consider, by way of illustration, occasions when a Psalmist describes his afflictions in particularly Isaiah-53-esque language—or, put another way, when Isaiah describes God’s Messiah in a particularly David-esque manner:

The correspondence between Isaiah 53 and David’s description of his afflictions is significant.

David’s afflictions are a notable picture of the Messiah’s and shed important light on David’s rejection (2 Sam. 15–20).

Consider, by way of illustration, the parallels between Israel’s treatment of David and her treatment of Jesus many years later.

Just as David was betrayed by his ‘friend’, Absalom, so Jesus was betrayed by Judas, whom he (pointedly) referred to as his ‘friend’ even as he came to betray him.

Rejected by their own people, both David and Jesus were forced into exile.

David’s was an exile to the wilderness on the far side of the Jordan, while Jesus’ would ultimately entail his exile into death.

Both men crossed the Kidron river and wept as they ascended the mount of Olives, branded ‘worthless’ and ‘guilty’ by Jerusalem’s leaders (cp. 2 Sam. 16.5–8).

And both men were deemed to have been afflicted by God, just like Isaiah’s servant (Isa. 53.4).

Both David and Jesus refused to allow their followers to punish their persecutors (16.9–14).

Rather than see their enemies punished, they chose to undergo death (cp. David’s statement in 18.33: מִי יִתֵּן מוּתִי אני תחתיך אבשלום), which they did for the sake of Israel.

Both men’s lives were of great value.

David’s enemies claimed David’s death would obtain peace for all Israel (17.3 w. 14), and David’s friends saw his life as the equivalent of ten thousand (18.4).

Meanwhile, Jesus was the good shepherd who laid down his life for the sake of his sheep. By his one act of righteousness, millions have been given life (Rom. 5.18).

And, though rejected by their people, both men were embraced by large numbers of Gentiles while in exile (15.18–23).

Curiously, David’s own flesh and blood were the last to call for his return,...

...which prompted him to exclaim,

‘You are my own flesh and blood! Why should you be the last to welcome me back as king?’ (19.13).

Yet, in the end, Judah *did* call for the return of David, her king.

And so, in the end, all Israel will call for the return of Jesus, her once-rejected Messiah (Matt. 23.36–39, Rom. 11).

Each week I pray it might not be too long before they do.

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