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David's Deathbed Speech Had Two Parts and Solomon Needed Both

David's last words to Solomon were half covenant charge, half ledger of old scores he had been too constrained to settle himself.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Cold That Would Not Leave
  2. The Account of Joab
  3. The Account of Shimei
  4. The Gratitude That Went With the Accounts
  5. Solomon Executed the Instructions

The Cold That Would Not Leave

No amount of covering warmed him. His servants found Abishag, a young woman from Shunem, to lie beside David and provide human warmth, but the cold had gone past what warmth could reach. He was dying, and he knew it, and he called Solomon in because a dying king who loves his son does not spare him the plainness of what is coming.

He said: I am going the way of all the earth. Be strong. Be a man. Keep the charge of your God, walk in his ways, observe his commandments and his testimonies and his judgments as written in the Torah of Moses, so that you may prosper in everything you do and everywhere you turn. He said the kingdom's permanence depended on this fidelity, that the promise God had made to him was conditional on the behavior of his descendants, and that Solomon was now the condition on which everything rested.

That was the first part of what David had to say. The second part was different in tone.

The Account of Joab

David told Solomon about Joab. Joab had been his general for decades, the man who had won his wars and made his kingdom possible and killed people David either would not or could not kill himself. He had also killed two commanders after David had made peace with them, shedding the blood of war in a time of peace, staining the girdle of David's loins and the sandals on his feet with blood that was not David's to shed. David had never moved against Joab. He was constrained: Joab was too powerful, too necessary, and David owed him too much.

He told Solomon to act according to his wisdom. Do not let Joab's gray hair go down to the grave in peace. The phrasing was precise. Solomon would know what it meant.

The Account of Shimei

Shimei son of Gera, a Benjaminite from the house of Saul, had come out and cursed David as he fled Jerusalem during Absalom's rebellion. He had thrown stones and dust and called David a man of blood and a worthless man. When David returned to Jerusalem after the rebellion was crushed, Shimei came and threw himself down and begged forgiveness. Abishai had wanted to execute him on the spot. David had said no. He swore to Shimei by God that he would not die by the sword. He kept his oath.

But the oath was David's oath, not Solomon's. David told Solomon: you are a wise man, you know what Shimei did, you know he cursed me with a curse that was severe. Do not treat him as innocent. Bring his gray head down to the grave with blood.

The Gratitude That Went With the Accounts

Not everything on David's deathbed list was a score to settle. He told Solomon to be kind to the sons of Barzillai the Gileadite, the man who had brought food and supplies to David at Mahanaim when David was fleeing Absalom and had nothing. Barzillai had served David in a moment of real humiliation, when no one was obligated to serve him. David wanted that kindness remembered in the next generation, the same way he wanted Joab's treachery and Shimei's curse remembered. The deathbed was a ledger, and not everything in it was debt.

Solomon Executed the Instructions

He moved within the first years of his reign. Joab, who had backed the wrong claimant during the succession contest, fled to the Tabernacle and took hold of the horns of the altar seeking sanctuary. Solomon sent his commander there. Joab refused to leave. He was killed at the altar. Solomon then summoned Shimei, placed him under house arrest in Jerusalem, and warned him that the day he crossed the Kidron Valley he would die. Shimei agreed. Three years later his servants ran away to Gath and he went to retrieve them. He came back and Solomon called him in and executed him the same day. Then, as the Book of Kings records, the kingdom was established in Solomon's hand.


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Antiquities VII.15Antiquities of the Jews (Josephus)

David knew he was dying. Cold had settled into his bones so deeply that no amount of clothing could warm him. So he summoned Solomon and gave him the kind of deathbed speech that kings give, part blessing, part warning, part hit list.

"I am going to my grave," David told his son, "and to my fathers, which is the common way all men must go, from which it is no longer possible to return." There is something raw in how Josephus records it. No euphemisms. No gentle metaphors. Just a dying old warrior staring at the end.

The charge itself was twofold. First, the high road: be righteous toward your subjects and religious toward God. Keep the commandments that Moses delivered. Do not let any passion or favoritism lead you to disregard the Torah. If you obey, the kingdom stays with our family forever. If you disobey, you lose God's favor in everything.

Then came the low road, the unfinished business David was too old or too politically constrained to handle himself. Joab, the army commander, had murdered two righteous generals, Abner son of Ner and Amasa son of Jether, out of pure jealousy. David admitted outright that Joab "hath been too hard for me, and more potent than myself, and so hath escaped punishment hitherto." He left the method to Solomon's judgment.

He also gave instructions about two others. Barzillai's son deserved honor and generous treatment, a debt of gratitude for his father's loyalty during David's flight from Absalom. And Shimei son of Gera, who had cursed David and thrown stones during that same flight? David had sworn not to kill him. He told Solomon to "seek out some just occasion, and punish him." The oath was technically kept. The intent was unmistakable.

David died at seventy. He had reigned seven and a half years in Hebron over Judah, then thirty-three years in Jerusalem over all Israel. Josephus's eulogy is among the most generous in the Antiquities: a man of extraordinary valor who led from the front, never commanding others into danger he would not face himself. Prudent, moderate, merciful to the suffering. Righteous and humane. Guilty of only one crime in his entire reign, the matter of Uriah's wife (2 Samuel 11).

He was buried in Jerusalem with immense wealth sealed inside the tomb. How immense? Josephus offers proof: thirteen hundred years later, the high priest Hyrcanus, besieged by the Seleucid king Antiochus, opened one chamber of David's sepulcher and pulled out three thousand talents, enough to buy off an army. Later still, Herod the Great opened another chamber and took even more. But neither man ever reached the actual coffins. The bodies of the kings lay buried so deep and so cleverly that even those who entered the tombs could not find them.

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Legends of the Jews 5:6Legends of the Jews

Sometimes, there's a little unfinished business to take care of. And in the case of King Solomon, that unfinished business came in the form of his father, David’s, final instructions.

Being Solomon, inheriting not just a kingdom, but a to-do list from beyond the grave. And right at the top of that list? Dealing with Joab.

Joab wasn't just some random guy. He was David's right-hand man, his top general. According to some accounts, he even had the intellect to head up the Academy, the bet midrash (house of study), a place of Torah scholarship! He had all the qualities needed to lead in ancient Israel. But here's the thing: even the most capable people can make some serious mistakes.

Joab? Well, he'd made a few doozies.

We're not just talking about a little white lie or a missed deadline. We're talking about murder. Two murders, actually: Abner and Amasa. The blood was on his hands. But according to the biblical narrative, that wasn't all. He was also suspected of arranging the death of Uriah the Hittite, and even worse, he used David's own letter – the one that sealed Uriah's fate – to cover his tracks! for a second. Betrayal on multiple levels.

Now, you might be thinking, why didn't David just deal with Joab himself? Why leave it to Solomon? The text hints that David may have considered forgiving Joab. But, and this is key, David wanted Joab to atone for his sins in this world. Why? So that Joab might be spared punishment in the world to come. A fascinating concept. That earthly consequences could somehow lighten the spiritual load in the afterlife. We see that concept echoed in the Talmud.

So, Solomon, fresh on the throne, had a heavy task before him. He had to balance justice, mercy, and the wishes of his late father. It was a test of his wisdom, right from the start. What would you do?

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Kohelet Rabbah 9:1Kohelet Rabbah

It’s a thought that runs through the heart of Ecclesiastes, that most enigmatic of biblical books. And it pops up especially vividly in the verse from (Ecclesiastes 2:9): “I grew great, and increased more than all who were before me in Jerusalem; my wisdom, too, was sustained in me.”

Who is the speaker here? Well, tradition tells us it's King Solomon himself, the wisest of all men. But Kohelet Rabbah, a fascinating collection of rabbinic interpretations of Ecclesiastes, latches onto that idea of surpassing those who came before. It asks a pretty direct question: "Who was before him in Jerusalem? Was it not David his father?"

The Rabbis then dive into a clever little thought experiment. They introduce a concept: "a maneh son of a half-maneh." Now, a maneh was a unit of currency, a hundred dinars. So, what does this mean metaphorically? It refers, the Rabbis say, to a great person whose father was... unremarkable. Someone who rose to prominence despite their parentage.

Who fits this bill? The text gives us a few examples. On, son of Pelet; Balak the son of Beor; and even Hezekiah, son of Ahaz. These were figures who, in their own ways, exceeded the expectations set by their fathers. The text even throws in Bilam, a non-Israelite prophet, into the mix. (The text notes, "the son of Tzipor" when referring to On, son of Pelet.)

But then, Kohelet Rabbah pivots. It introduces another category: "a maneh son of a maneh." Someone great, who also had a great father. Here, we find Ira, the son of Ikesh (one of David's warriors!), and, crucially, Solomon himself. So, in this reading, Solomon isn't necessarily better than his father, David. He's just... equally great, continuing the legacy.

What about that second part of the verse? "My wisdom, too, was sustained in me." Here, Rabbi Aha offers a poignant interpretation. Solomon, reflecting on his life, says that all the Torah he learned in his adulthood kind of... dissipated. Faded away. But the Torah he learned in his youth? That remained with him.

Isn’t that a powerful idea? That the foundations we build early in life, the lessons we absorb when we're young, are the ones that truly stay with us? It’s a reminder to value those formative years, to cherish the knowledge we gain when our minds are most open and receptive.

So, what does this all mean? Perhaps Kohelet Rabbah is inviting us to consider the complexities of legacy. Are we destined to be defined by our parents? Or do we have the potential to forge our own path, to surpass expectations? Maybe, just maybe, the greatest wisdom lies in recognizing the value of both: the foundations laid by those who came before, and the unique contributions we make ourselves. Food for thought, isn't it?

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