2 Samuel Chapter 24
David and the Census
(2 Samuel 24:1–2) — “Again the anger of the LORD was aroused against Israel, and He moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah. So the king said to Joab the commander of the army who was with him, Now go throughout all the tribes of Israel, from Dan to Beersheba, and count the people, that I may know the number of the people.”
The chapter opens with a mysterious and solemn statement, revealing that the Lord’s anger was once again kindled against Israel. The exact cause of His anger is not specified, but it is clear that the divine displeasure toward the nation set the stage for the events that followed. God “moved David” to take a census of Israel and Judah. The New King James translators capitalized the pronoun “He,” suggesting that God Himself was the direct mover. However, the parallel account in 1 Chronicles 21:1 clarifies, “Now Satan stood up against Israel, and moved David to number Israel.” This comparison reveals that Satan was the immediate agent tempting David, while God sovereignly permitted it for His own purposes of discipline and correction toward both David and the nation. In this sense, God’s permissive will allowed Satan’s activity, turning it ultimately to fulfill divine justice.
This interplay between divine sovereignty and satanic agency is not unique. A similar dynamic is seen in the book of Job, where Satan was permitted to afflict Job but only within the bounds God allowed. Likewise, in Luke 22:31–32, Jesus told Peter, “Simon, Simon! Indeed, Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail.” In both examples, Satan’s temptations were used to expose and purify the heart of God’s servants. In David’s case, the temptation revealed his pride and reliance upon human strength rather than upon the Lord.
When David commanded Joab, “Go, number Israel and Judah,” he initiated a census without divine instruction. This act carried serious implications according to Exodus 30:12, which says, “When you take the census of the children of Israel for their number, then every man shall give a ransom for himself to the LORD, when you number them, that there may be no plague among them when you number them.” This principle signified that every Israelite ultimately belonged to God. Therefore, only God had the right to order a census, and when one was taken, each person was to offer a ransom to acknowledge that he was the Lord’s possession.
In taking this census on his own authority, David violated that sacred principle. Israel did not belong to David; it belonged to God. The numbering of the people was an assertion of human ownership, suggesting pride in military strength and national might. It was, at its core, a manifestation of the flesh—David seeking to measure the size of his power rather than depending upon God’s deliverance. The act was not administrative but spiritual in nature, reflecting the subtle sin of self-reliance.
Joab, though often a ruthless and ambitious man, discerned the danger and later protested against the order (as will be seen in subsequent verses). Yet David’s command prevailed, and the census proceeded, setting in motion divine consequences. The narrative illustrates that even the most godly men are vulnerable to temptation when pride creeps into the heart. Scripture warns, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18).
David’s census became a test of leadership and humility, showing that no matter how high one’s position, no believer is exempt from the need to remain dependent upon the Lord. God’s anger toward Israel and His allowance of Satan’s temptation demonstrate that divine discipline can come through indirect means, always aiming to purify and correct His people.
(2 Samuel 24:3–4) — “And Joab said to the king, Now may the LORD your God add to the people a hundred times more than there are, and may the eyes of my lord the king see it. But why does my lord the king desire this thing? Nevertheless the king’s word prevailed against Joab and against the captains of the army. Therefore Joab and the captains of the army went out from the presence of the king to count the people of Israel.”
Joab, the hardened commander of David’s army, immediately recognized the danger of David’s decision and objected to the command. His response was both respectful and courageous, for few men would dare question the king’s word so directly. Joab’s words were tactful but firm: “Now may the LORD your God add to the people a hundred times more than there are, and may the eyes of my lord the king see it. But why does my lord the king desire this thing?” He expressed a desire for Israel’s continued growth and prosperity, yet questioned the king’s motive for wanting the census. Joab’s question implied that David’s command was not driven by necessity or divine instruction, but by pride and self-confidence.
Joab’s insight revealed that he understood the moral and spiritual peril behind David’s order. The act of numbering the people could only serve one purpose—to measure human strength. David’s heart had shifted from faith in God’s power to trust in military might. Joab, though far from a spiritual man, perceived the sin more clearly than the king did at that moment. His question, “Why does my lord the king desire this thing?” exposed the deeper issue: a temptation toward vanity and self-exaltation.
The motive behind the census was rooted in pride. David, nearing the end of a long and successful reign, may have desired to look back and quantify the greatness of his kingdom. The Lord had richly blessed him, and Israel had expanded in size, strength, and prosperity under his leadership. But rather than ascribing glory to God, David began to measure his own success by the size of his army and population. This was the subtle yet dangerous sin of vainglory. Scripture consistently warns against placing confidence in numbers or human power. Psalm 20:7 declares, “Some trust in chariots, and some in horses; but we will remember the name of the LORD our God.” Similarly, Jeremiah 9:23–24 says, “Thus says the LORD: Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, let not the mighty man glory in his might, nor let the rich man glory in his riches; but let him who glories glory in this, that he understands and knows Me.”
Joab’s protest also hinted at a lack of necessity. There was no impending crisis that required the numbering of troops, nor any divine command to do so. The act was one of curiosity and self-confidence, as the commentator John Trapp noted, “He did it out of curiosity and creature-confidence.” David’s reliance upon the visible strength of men replaced his earlier faith in the unseen strength of God. The man who once said, “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer” (2 Samuel 22:2) now sought comfort in the count of his soldiers.
Despite Joab’s warning and the counsel of the captains of the army, “the king’s word prevailed.” This indicates that David was not acting out of ignorance but in willful defiance of wise counsel. The inclusion of “the captains of the army” shows that multiple voices advised against the census, yet David remained unmoved. The authority of his position allowed him to overrule their objections, but not without consequence. As Proverbs teaches, “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; but in the multitude of counselors there is safety” (Proverbs 11:14).
It is noteworthy that Joab, a man often characterized by violence and ambition, appears here as the voice of restraint and reason. This underscores how clearly the sin was recognized even by those less spiritually minded. Joab’s reluctance to carry out the order also foreshadows the coming judgment, for his uneasy obedience reflected a conscience aware that the king’s desire had departed from God’s will.
David’s insistence reveals the corrupting influence of pride, even in the most seasoned and godly of leaders. This sin often arises not in times of trial, but in times of success. When men become secure in their prosperity, they may begin to measure their worth by visible results rather than divine favor. In this moment, David ceased to act as the humble shepherd-king dependent upon God and instead acted as a monarch seeking to glorify himself through statistics and strength.
(2 Samuel 24:5–9) — “And they crossed over the Jordan and camped in Aroer, on the right side of the town which is in the midst of the ravine of Gad, and toward Jazer. Then they came to Gilead and to the land of Tahtim Hodshi; they came to Dan Jaan and around to Sidon; and they came to the stronghold of Tyre and to all the cities of the Hivites and the Canaanites. Then they went out to South Judah as far as Beersheba. So when they had gone through all the land, they came to Jerusalem at the end of nine months and twenty days. Then Joab gave the sum of the number of the people to the king. And there were in Israel eight hundred thousand valiant men who drew the sword, and the men of Judah were five hundred thousand men.”
The text details the journey of Joab and his officers as they carried out the census throughout Israel. The route covered nearly the entire territory of the nation, from the northernmost regions of Dan and Sidon to the southernmost point of Beersheba. The mention of Aroer, Gilead, Tahtim Hodshi, and Tyre marks the boundaries of the land, showing that this was a comprehensive count that touched every part of the kingdom. The process took “nine months and twenty days,” almost ten full months—an extended period during which David had ample opportunity to reflect on the sinfulness of what he had commanded. Yet, despite the length of the project, the king did not revoke his order or repent until after its completion. This delay revealed a hardening of conscience that often accompanies pride and disobedience.
The text emphasizes the deliberate nature of the act. The census was not an impulsive decision; it was a sustained effort, involving coordination, logistics, and a large number of officials. Such persistence in a sinful decision demonstrates how spiritual blindness can grow when one’s heart is set on self-justification. David, who once had a tender conscience when he cut off only the corner of Saul’s robe (1 Samuel 24:5), now tolerated a far greater offense for nearly a year without remorse. The danger of pride is that it dulls spiritual sensitivity over time.
When Joab finally reported the results to the king, he presented staggering numbers: “eight hundred thousand valiant men who drew the sword” in Israel and “five hundred thousand men” in Judah. These were fighting men, not including women, children, and the elderly. From this total, the population of the nation could be reasonably estimated at around six million people. The report underscored Israel’s military strength, which was precisely what appealed to David’s pride. Instead of glorying in the Lord who had granted such blessing, David gloried in the size of his army.
It is also significant that Joab, who had initially opposed the census, still completed the task, though reluctantly. The parallel account in 1 Chronicles 21:6 notes that Joab did not include the tribes of Levi and Benjamin, “because the king’s word was abominable to Joab.” This omission reflected his lingering protest, suggesting that even the man carrying out the order recognized its sinfulness. The incomplete count shows that Joab’s conscience was uneasy, though he ultimately yielded to David’s command.
The differences between the numbers reported in 2 Samuel 24:9 and 1 Chronicles 21:5—where the totals are recorded as one million one hundred thousand for Israel and four hundred seventy thousand for Judah—have long been discussed by scholars. These variations likely arose from textual transmission over centuries. As Adam Clarke wisely observed, such discrepancies do not undermine the divine inspiration of Scripture, for while the original authors wrote under the Spirit’s infallible guidance, later copyists were not supernaturally preserved from every numerical error. The message and moral of the account remain perfectly clear: the census was a sinful act of pride, not a statistical inconsistency.
What stands out most in this passage is that during those nine months and twenty days, the Lord gave David time to repent. The delay between command and completion was not accidental. It was an opportunity for reflection and correction, yet David did not seize it. Like many sins of self-reliance, this one grew gradually and subtly until it culminated in guilt and judgment. God’s mercy often gives men space to turn from their pride before discipline comes, but when they persist in self-exaltation, the reckoning becomes inevitable.
B. David’s Guilt and God’s Punishment
(2 Samuel 24:10) — “And David’s heart condemned him after he had numbered the people. So David said to the LORD, I have sinned greatly in what I have done; but now, I pray, O LORD, take away the iniquity of Your servant, for I have done very foolishly.”
After the completion of the census, David’s conscience immediately convicted him. The phrase “David’s heart condemned him” reveals the sensitivity of his spirit before God. Although he had persisted in sin for nearly ten months, once the act was completed and its prideful purpose became clear, his heart was pierced with guilt. This immediate conviction is one of the defining marks of a true man of God. David was not perfect, but he possessed a heart that responded quickly to the Holy Spirit’s rebuke.
Throughout Scripture, David’s tender conscience distinguishes him from others. When Saul sinned, he justified and excused his actions; when David sinned, he confessed and repented. The moment his heart smote him, he turned to the Lord and said, “I have sinned greatly in what I have done.” He did not minimize or excuse his behavior but took full responsibility. His words echo those found in Psalm 32:5, where he said, “I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the LORD; and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.”
David’s plea, “Take away the iniquity of Your servant, for I have done very foolishly,” shows that he recognized both the gravity and the foolishness of his act. Pride had led him to count what did not belong to him, placing his trust in numbers rather than in the Lord’s power. He realized that sin always clouds judgment, leading even godly men to make foolish decisions when they rely upon their own wisdom. The prayer, “Take away the iniquity,” is the cry of a repentant heart seeking not merely forgiveness but cleansing and restoration of fellowship with God.
The principle here is timeless: true repentance involves both confession and recognition of folly. When conviction pierces the heart, the right response is immediate confession before God, without delay or self-defense. As 1 John 1:9 declares, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
(2 Samuel 24:11–13) — “Now when David arose in the morning, the word of the LORD came to the prophet Gad, David’s seer, saying, Go and tell David, Thus says the LORD: I offer you three things; choose one of them for yourself, that I may do it to you. So Gad came to David and told him; and he said to him, Shall seven years of famine come to you in your land? Or shall you flee three months before your enemies, while they pursue you? Or shall there be three days’ plague in your land? Now consider and see what answer I should take back to Him who sent me.”
The Lord, in His justice and mercy, sent His prophet Gad—called David’s seer—to confront the king and to deliver God’s judgment. This title reminds us that David, though a king, remained subject to the Word of God spoken through His prophets. The presence of Gad highlights that divine correction always comes through God’s appointed channels.
God’s message to David was both sobering and merciful. Though judgment must come, the Lord gave David the opportunity to choose among three forms of chastisement. Each option would bring suffering upon Israel, but the form of that suffering would reveal the king’s heart and wisdom. The three options were as follows:
Seven years of famine: This would bring widespread hunger and economic collapse. It would be a slow and enduring affliction that struck hardest among the poor, while the wealthy could use their resources to survive. It would make Israel dependent upon foreign nations for food, as in the days of Joseph.
Three months of fleeing before enemies: This would involve military defeat and humiliation. It would cost the lives of many soldiers, but the suffering would primarily be limited to those engaged in battle. It would also expose Israel’s weakness before her neighboring nations.
Three days of plague in the land: This would be sudden, indiscriminate, and devastating. The plague could strike anyone—rich or poor, strong or weak, ruler or servant. It would come directly from the hand of God, without human mediation.
Each punishment was just and proportionate, yet distinct in its nature. The first would place Israel’s dependence on other nations, the second would place her dependence on human defense, and the third would place her dependence entirely upon the mercy of God. Through this test, the Lord allowed David to reveal the nature of his heart: whether he would trust in human power or submit to divine authority.
The prophet’s words, “Now consider and see what answer I should take back to Him who sent me,” underscore that David’s response must pass through God’s chosen messenger. Even in repentance, the king could not deal with God on his own terms but had to come through the means God appointed. This maintains the pattern of mediation—a principle ultimately fulfilled in Christ, our Mediator. 1 Timothy 2:5 affirms, “For there is one God, and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus.”
The judgment set before David was both a test of wisdom and a revelation of God’s justice. Each choice would bring pain, but each was designed to discipline, not destroy. God’s mercy is evident even in His punishment, for He allows repentance and choice within the framework of His righteous correction.
(2 Samuel 24:14) — “And David said to Gad, I am in great distress. Please let us fall into the hand of the LORD, for His mercies are great; but do not let me fall into the hand of man.”
David’s response reveals both deep anguish and deep faith. When faced with three terrifying options for judgment, the king cried, “I am in great distress.” The weight of his sin and the responsibility for the nation’s suffering pressed heavily upon him. Yet, even in this distress, David’s heart turned instinctively toward the mercy of God. His plea, “Please let us fall into the hand of the LORD, for His mercies are great,” displays remarkable spiritual discernment. David knew that divine punishment, though severe, is tempered by God’s compassion, while the wrath of man is often cruel and merciless.
By choosing the three days of plague, David surrendered himself and his people into God’s direct judgment. In the other two choices—famine or military defeat—David could have insulated himself and his household from the worst effects. His personal wealth could have secured food during famine, and his royal protection could have shielded him from the dangers of war. But David refused to take refuge in privilege. He humbled himself under the mighty hand of God, choosing the judgment that left him equally exposed with his people.
Adam Clarke observed, “Had he chosen war, his own personal safety was in no danger, because there was already an ordinance preventing him from going to battle. Had he chosen famine, his own wealth would have secured his and his own family’s support. But he showed the greatness of his mind in choosing the pestilence, to the ravages of which himself and his household were exposed equally with the meanest of his subjects.” This humility marked the heart of a true leader—a man who accepted responsibility and shared the suffering of his people.
David’s second statement, “Do not let me fall into the hand of man,” reinforces this trust in divine mercy. He knew that human vengeance, as seen in war, could be cruel and unrestrained, while God’s justice always carries within it the possibility of mercy. This insight reflects David’s knowledge of God’s nature, consistent with Psalm 103:8–10, “The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy. He will not always strive with us, nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities.”
Even in the face of judgment, David’s faith in God’s compassion never faltered. His choice shows a profound understanding that falling into the hands of God is safer for the repentant heart than falling into the hands of men.
(2 Samuel 24:15–17) — “So the LORD sent a plague upon Israel from the morning till the appointed time. From Dan to Beersheba seventy thousand men of the people died. And when the angel stretched out His hand over Jerusalem to destroy it, the LORD relented from the destruction, and said to the angel who was destroying the people, It is enough; now restrain your hand. And the angel of the LORD was by the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. Then David spoke to the LORD when he saw the angel who was striking the people, and said, Surely I have sinned, and I have done wickedly; but these sheep, what have they done? Let Your hand, I pray, be against me and against my father’s house.”
The judgment began swiftly and severely. The plague struck “from the morning till the appointed time,” sweeping through the nation “from Dan to Beersheba,” the common expression for the entire land of Israel. Seventy thousand men perished in a brief span, revealing both the seriousness of David’s sin and the holiness of God. This catastrophic loss reminds us that sin, especially among leaders, carries consequences that extend far beyond the individual. The entire nation suffered because of one man’s pride.
As the angel of destruction approached Jerusalem, the Lord intervened. “The LORD relented from the destruction, and said to the angel... It is enough; now restrain your hand.” The Hebrew term translated “relented” expresses divine compassion, not inconsistency. God did not change His mind but revealed His merciful nature in the midst of judgment. This was the very attribute David trusted when he chose to fall into God’s hand. The Lord demonstrated that His wrath is limited by His grace. His justice is perfect, yet His mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:13).
The angel of the LORD stood “by the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite.” This specific location would soon become profoundly significant, as it was destined to be the very site of the temple mount where sacrifices would later atone for Israel’s sins. God’s sovereign plan was already moving through judgment toward redemption.
When David saw the angel, he was overwhelmed by grief and repentance. His prayer reveals the heart of a true shepherd: “Surely I have sinned, and I have done wickedly; but these sheep, what have they done? Let Your hand, I pray, be against me and against my father’s house.” David’s plea mirrors the intercession of Christ, the Good Shepherd, who bore the judgment for His flock. Whereas David’s offer could not satisfy divine justice, it foreshadowed the substitutionary sacrifice of the Son of God, who willingly bore the wrath that His sheep might be spared.
David’s words also demonstrate the heart of true leadership. He took full responsibility for the sin and sought to bear its punishment himself. His selflessness stands in contrast to leaders who shift blame to others. The shepherd’s heart desires to protect the flock even at personal cost.
Yet God had a greater purpose. Though He did not accept David’s offer, He would later use this very place—the threshing floor of Araunah—as the site of the altar and temple, where blood sacrifices would prefigure the ultimate atonement through Christ. Thus, even in wrath, God remembered mercy and prepared the way for redemption.
C. David Builds an Altar
(2 Samuel 24:18–21) — “And Gad came that day to David and said to him, Go up, erect an altar to the LORD on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. So David, according to the word of Gad, went up as the LORD commanded. Now Araunah looked, and saw the king and his servants coming toward him. So Araunah went out and bowed before the king with his face to the ground. Then Araunah said, Why has my lord the king come to his servant? And David said, To buy the threshing floor from you, to build an altar to the LORD, that the plague may be withdrawn from the people.”
When the plague ceased at the command of God, the prophet Gad was sent once more to David with a divine instruction: “Erect an altar to the LORD on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite.” This direction was not arbitrary but sacredly significant. The threshing floor was the very spot where the angel of the LORD had halted in judgment and where mercy had triumphed over wrath. There, on that ground of halted destruction, God commanded David to build an altar of atonement and thanksgiving.
Threshing floors in ancient Israel were typically located on elevated ground, exposed to wind, which aided in separating the chaff from the wheat. This location, likely north of the old city of David, carried profound symbolism. The place where grain was threshed—where worthless chaff was separated from that which was good—was to become the place where sin would be dealt with, and where spiritual purification would occur. What had been a site of agricultural labor would now become a sanctuary of divine mercy.
Even more remarkable, 2 Chronicles 3:1 identifies this very threshing floor as being on Mount Moriah, the same place where Abraham had been commanded to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice. Genesis 22:2 says, “Then He said, Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” It was also near this same ridge of hills that, centuries later, the Lord Jesus Christ would be crucified for the sins of the world. Genesis 22:14 records, “And Abraham called the name of the place, The-LORD-Will-Provide; as it is said to this day, In the Mount of the LORD it shall be provided.” Thus, the site chosen for David’s altar foreshadowed the ultimate sacrifice of the Son of God on the cross—a divine continuity spanning from Abraham’s faith to David’s repentance to Christ’s redemption.
When David arrived, Araunah saw the king approaching and bowed with his face to the ground in humility. His words, “Why has my lord the king come to his servant?” reflected both reverence and concern. David’s reply, “To buy the threshing floor from you, to build an altar to the LORD, that the plague may be withdrawn from the people,” expressed his understanding that repentance and worship must accompany intercession. David desired to consecrate the very place of halted judgment into a permanent memorial of mercy. What had been the location of divine wrath would now become the site of divine reconciliation.
The transformation of this threshing floor into an altar marks one of the most beautiful themes in Scripture—the conversion of judgment into grace, of punishment into peace. The same ground where the sword of the angel was drawn would soon witness the fire of divine acceptance upon David’s offering. This altar symbolized restoration, forgiveness, and renewed fellowship between God and His people.
(2 Samuel 24:22–24) — “Now Araunah said to David, Let my lord the king take and offer up whatever seems good to him. Look, here are oxen for burnt sacrifice, and threshing implements and the yokes of the oxen for wood. All these, O king, Araunah has given to the king. And Araunah said to the king, May the LORD your God accept you. Then the king said to Araunah, No, but I will surely buy it from you for a price; nor will I offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God with that which costs me nothing. So David bought the threshing floor and the oxen for fifty shekels of silver.”
Araunah’s reaction reveals a generous and reverent spirit. Recognizing the king’s purpose, he immediately offered everything needed for the sacrifice—his threshing floor, his oxen for the burnt offering, and the wooden implements for fuel. His words, “May the LORD your God accept you,” show his respect for David and his awareness of the seriousness of the event. Araunah desired that the offering bring divine favor and the end of the plague.
However, David refused to accept these gifts freely. His response stands as a timeless principle of genuine worship: “No, but I will surely buy it from you for a price; nor will I offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God with that which costs me nothing.” True worship always involves cost. Sacrifice is the essence of devotion. David understood that a gift that costs nothing holds no true value before God. If Araunah had supplied the materials at no expense to the king, it would have been Araunah’s offering, not David’s. The sacrifice needed to come from David’s own heart, resources, and repentance.
Adam Clarke wisely noted, “Had Araunah’s noble offer been accepted, it would have been Araunah’s sacrifice, not David’s; nor would it have answered the end of turning away the displeasure of the Most High.” Worship, in its purest form, is not about convenience but consecration. A faith that demands nothing from us is a faith that changes nothing within us.
David’s words echo through the centuries as a rebuke to superficial religion: “I will not offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God with that which costs me nothing.” Many desire the blessings of faith without the burden of obedience. Yet every true follower of Christ must learn that love and sacrifice are inseparable. Charles Simeon once said, “If religion costs us nothing, it is worth nothing.” Likewise, Frederick Brotherton Meyer wrote, “Where there is true, strong love to Jesus, it will cost us something. Love is the costliest of all undertakings. But what shall we mind if we gain Christ?”
David’s purchase of the threshing floor for fifty shekels of silver secured more than land—it established the foundation for Israel’s temple worship. As 1 Chronicles 21:28–22:5 records, this same location became the site where Solomon would later build the temple, the center of Israel’s worship for centuries to come. The place of judgment was transformed into the place of redemption.
The transaction demonstrates that costly worship produces lasting legacy. What David purchased in repentance became the very heart of Israel’s communion with God. The altar of sacrifice pointed forward to the greater altar of Calvary, where the ultimate price would be paid—not silver or gold, but the precious blood of Christ, “as of a lamb without blemish and without spot” (1 Peter 1:18–19).
(2 Samuel 24:25) — “And David built there an altar to the LORD, and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings. So the LORD heeded the prayers for the land, and the plague was withdrawn from Israel.”
Having purchased the threshing floor of Araunah, David obeyed the divine command fully and built an altar to the LORD upon that sacred site. His immediate action shows that true repentance must be followed by obedient worship. Where judgment had once hovered, an altar was now raised—a visible sign of restored fellowship between God and His people.
David offered both burnt offerings and peace offerings. The burnt offering symbolized complete consecration to God, as the entire sacrifice was consumed upon the altar, representing the worshiper’s total surrender. It was also the primary means of atonement for sin, for it involved the shedding of blood and the substitution of an innocent victim on behalf of the guilty. This was David’s acknowledgment that the death of seventy thousand Israelites in the plague could not atone for the sin of pride that had provoked the judgment. Human suffering, no matter how severe, could never remove sin before a holy God. Only the blood of an acceptable sacrifice could make atonement.
The peace offerings, on the other hand, symbolized restored fellowship and communion with God. Unlike the burnt offering, which was wholly consumed, the peace offering was shared—part burned before God, part eaten by the priests, and part by the worshiper. It represented reconciliation, thanksgiving, and shared joy in the presence of the Lord. Thus, David’s twofold offering demonstrated both repentance and restored relationship: forgiveness through the burnt offering and fellowship through the peace offering.
This combination of sacrifices beautifully reflects the heart of biblical worship. First comes atonement, then comes communion. One cannot have peace with God until sin is dealt with through substitutionary blood. This truth points forward to the cross of Christ, where both aspects are perfectly fulfilled. Jesus is our burnt offering, whose death atoned for sin once and for all, and He is our peace offering, through whom we now enjoy fellowship with God. As Ephesians 2:13–14 declares, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace.”
David’s act of worship turned tragedy into triumph. The same place where the angel of destruction once stood now became the altar of redemption. Scripture records that the LORD responded graciously: “So the LORD heeded the prayers for the land, and the plague was withdrawn from Israel.” According to 1 Chronicles 21:26, “And the LORD answered him from heaven by fire on the altar of burnt offering.” God visibly demonstrated His acceptance by sending fire from heaven to consume the sacrifice, just as He did later at the dedication of Solomon’s temple (2 Chronicles 7:1). This divine fire symbolized not only acceptance but reconciliation—God’s wrath had been satisfied, and His mercy restored.
The text concludes with a profound spiritual truth: when repentance is genuine and worship sincere, God responds with grace. David’s prayer was not merely an appeal for relief but an act of intercession rooted in a heart made right with God. The same Lord who sent the plague now withdrew it, showing that judgment and mercy flow from the same sovereign hand.
F. B. Meyer captured this scene well when he wrote, “We finally see the man after God’s own heart turning the occasion of his sin and its punishment into an occasion of worship.” David’s failure had led to chastisement, yet through repentance and sacrifice, it ended in renewal. What began as pride concluded with humility, and what began with wrath concluded with reconciliation.
The closing of this chapter marks both the end of David’s recorded reign and the spiritual summit of his kingship. The king who sinned greatly also repented deeply, and the God who judged severely also forgave completely. The altar on Araunah’s threshing floor would stand as a lasting testimony that sin’s judgment can only be lifted through atonement. Centuries later, on that same hill—Mount Moriah—God would provide the ultimate sacrifice in His Son, Jesus Christ, fulfilling David’s offering once and for all.
