When Your Oxen Stumble

Everything appears to be in David’s favor. He has defeated the Philistines, and as he inquires of the Lord, God blesses him. Jerusalem has been conquered and restored to its place as God’s city. Now all that remains is to return the ark of the covenant.

How does Israel do this? They set the ark of God “on a new cart” (2 Sam. 6:3). Behold their first mistake. Numbers instructs the Levites to “carry on their shoulders the holy things, for which they were responsible” (Num. 7:9). This was God’s design, that the sacred ark of the covenant be transported not on an ox cart but on the shoulders of priests.

Yet when David brings the ark back to Jerusalem, we observe a “new cart.” This wasn’t God’s idea. On the contrary, this practice comes from the Philistines. In 1 Samuel 6, years earlier in the days of Eli, the Philistines capture the ark. What they failed to plan for was that wherever the ark stopped, devastation, panic, and death afflicted the people. They eventually became so ill, tired, and afraid that after seven months the Philistines begged their rulers to return the ark to Israel (v. 11).

For counsel, the Philistines turned to the priests and diviners, who encouraged them to “get a new cart ready” and place the ark upon it (1 Sam. 6:7-8). The Philistines had learned their lesson, that the ark of the Lord is no pagan trinket and must be returned. The interesting part is how they do it all “on a new cart.”

David and the priests may or may not have known that this was the Philistine way. They are rejoicing, dancing, and worshiping before the Lord with perfectly clear consciences, joyful that they have the privilege of accompanying the ark of the presence of the Lord. They don’t even realize how they are disobeying God—until the oxen stumble.

When this happens, Uzzah, the son of the priest, who was guiding the oxen, reaches out to take hold of the ark to rescue it from falling (2 Sam. 6:6). Immediately, the Lord’s anger burns against Uzzah and because of his “irreverent act,” God strikes him, and he dies beside the ark (v. 7).

In a similar way, we too may not even realize how we are disobeying God until someone like Uzzah gets hurt because of our ignorance and folly. What do we do when that happens? At first, David is angry (2 Sam. 6:8). His thoughts may have constituted something like this: “What are you doing, God? We’re worshiping you with everything we have and are. You have given us these victories. What do you mean by smiting a priest like this? He was trying to save the ark! We’re giving you our best and trying to do things right. What are you doing?”

David’s next emotion? Fear, as he realizes that God is holier than he ever could have imagined. Because of this, he no longer wants to take the ark of the Lord “to be with him in the city of David” (v. 9). Now, instead of angry, he is sobered and distances himself from the God he knows is holy.

The theme of the following poem is our response when our metaphorical oxen stumble. We can rejoice and serve God and live in a way that seems harmless but isn’t. As David and Uzzah reveal, and later Paul, we can have a clear conscience, but that doesn’t make us innocent (1 Cor. 4:4). The problem is that we’re blind to it because we don’t know the word of God and choose what we don’t even realize is the Philistine way.

As for Uzzah, with some liberties, we could liken him to the church kid. The son of the priest, he lived with the ark of the covenant for twenty years at a time of spiritual starvation, confusion, apostasy, and ignorance. He grew up with the sacred in his own household and saw it every day. Could it be that his casual familiarity proved in the end to be his downfall? Zealous Uzzah, whose name means “strength,” for a moment forgets the majestic holiness of his God—and dies. Is it possible that we too can become over-familiar with the holy things of God so that we no longer treat them as sacred?

The good news, while coming at a cost, is that David learns his lesson. He recognizes that though he followed in the Philistine way, he doesn’t have to stay there. When he returns later to bring up the ark to Jerusalem, unlike the first time, David explains to the priests that they are to consecrate themselves, for it was because they did not bring up the ark in the prescribed way that God’s anger broke out against them (1 Chron. 15:12-13). The priests do as David commands and proceed to carry the ark on their shoulders with rejoicing (v. 25) and the help of God (v. 26).

This leads into my final point. Notice that when David and Israel used the ox cart, there is no mention of consecration. It’s the Philistine way. Service can be separated from the communion, relationship, and person. Not so with the ways of God. Set apart unto Him, we must inquire of the Lord to learn the prescribed way and live accordingly that we may serve Him well.

When Your Oxen Stumble

The kingdom established, the foe defeated,

Now in Jerusalem David is seated.

For God had the country expanded,

And David did what He commanded.

He obeyed his God in faith and then,

With thirty thousand chosen men,

Set out in earnest to reclaim

The ark of God called by the Name

And in joy to honor Him—

The Lord between the cherubim.

They praised Him there with “all their might,”

In joyful worship and delight,

Glad song that they could not contain—

Yet God has standards that remain.

Behold, Uzzah, something appalling—

The ark of the covenant shaken and falling!

Savior of God, spare it he must!

Feel now the gold—thy face in the dust.

O how often do we disobey

And carry the sacred the Philistine way,

Using a cart and undignified beasts

For that which belongs on the shoulders of priests?

We worship in gladness with “all our might”

Yet fail to do right in His sight.

Our excuse? Perhaps that the cart is new,

But ignorance will not pardon you.

Keep watch! For while your king has defeated

The champion of those who’ve died or retreated,

Their ways still linger to lead you astray

And poison your song with the Philistine way.

It may be a new cart, the best in the land,

But there’s always a reason for God’s command.

It’s desirable, new—or so we believe—

But so was the fruit that tempted Eve.

Carefully learn from your horrid surprise,

For wisdom will wake when Uzzah dies.

The Philistines may a new cart have used,

But the people of God are not excused.

Why do we give, though with worshipful heart,

The trust of priests to the oxen cart,

Refusing the sacred to shoulder and carry?

O of the Philistine way be wary!

The ark, it is heavy, taxing, and broad,

But oxen are not the children of God.

At your peril, His guidance ignore,

Lest He sift your chaff at the threshing floor.

Neglect, Ignorance, Pride, Deceit—

And Uzzah can fall at the oxen’s feet.

Examine thy heart. Affirm thy good zeal.

Now look to what God’s statutes reveal.

Gaze intently into the Law

And remember what you saw.

Learn. Apply. Fight and obey—

And beware of the Philistine way.

Honor His Presence amid your cheers,

The same holy God after twenty years.

Sing His high praises, a worshipful medley—

But disregard for the sacred is deadly.

When Uzzah dies, can you be humble?

What do you do when your oxen stumble?

Well-intentioned David, now confess,

For God in His holiness

Has a Law declared, decreed,

And Uzzah’s “strength” He does not need.

Thy zeal has dangers unforeseen;

O beware the way of the Philistine.

The ark was nothing less than the burden of the Lord, and the burden of the Lord was to be carried on the hearts of the Levites… We want God’s presence very much, don’t we?

But we like to hitch His presence to some of our new carts.

Alan Redpath