In a world where everything seems fleeting—where commitments crumble, relationships falter, and convictions waver—the story of Eleazar, one of David’s mighty men, beckons us to a deeper, unwavering faith. His story in 2 Samuel 23:9–10 (ESV) is more than an account of a warrior’s victory; it is a call to grasp what truly matters with a grip so fierce that nothing can pry it from our hands.

 

This is not just a tale of swords and battlefields; it is a profound revelation about clinging—holding so tightly to something that it becomes part of you. The beauty of this story unfolds when we explore the rich depth of the Hebrew word used to describe Eleazar’s grip: דָּבַק (dābaq).

Eleazar: When a Warrior’s Hand and Sword Become One

 

“And next to him among the three mighty men was Eleazar the son of Dodo, son of Ahohi. He was with David when they defied the Philistines who were gathered there for battle, and the men of Israel withdrew. He rose and struck down the Philistines until his hand was weary, and his hand clung to the sword. And the Lord brought about a great victory that day.”

—2 Samuel 23:9–10 (ESV)

 

Picture the scene: a field soaked in the heat of battle, the metallic scent of blood in the air, the rhythmic clash of steel on steel. As the enemy surged, the soldiers of Israel—fearful, overwhelmed—fled, leaving Eleazar standing alone beside his king. Alone, but unshaken. As wave after wave of the enemy came upon him, Eleazar lifted his sword again and again, until his strength failed him.

 

But here is where the story grips the soul: “his hand clung to the sword.”

 

The word “clung” here—דָּבַק (dābaq)—does not mean he simply held it. The word paints a far richer picture. It means to adhere, to stick, to be joined together so completely that separation is almost impossible. Eleazar’s hand was not just holding the sword; it had become one with it. His fingers locked in place, molded by exhaustion and determination, refusing to release the weapon even when his muscles failed.

 

The sword had become an extension of himself—inseparable, united by the relentless struggle of battle.

 

Can you see it?

The dust swirling around him. His breath ragged. The sword heavy but fused to his hand. His grip so fierce that when the fighting stopped, they had to peel his fingers from the hilt—muscle, sinew, and steel entwined.

 

But the text gives us a deeper truth: “The Lord brought about a great victory that day.”

Eleazar’s victory was not in his strength but in his refusal to let go—a refusal empowered by the God who fights for His people.

דָּבַק (dābaq): The Grip of Covenant Love

 

This word, דָּבַק (dābaq), appears elsewhere in Scripture with equally profound meaning. One of its most beautiful uses is in Genesis 2:24, describing the covenant bond of marriage:

 

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast (דָּבַק, dābaq) to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” —Genesis 2:24 (ESV)

 

Here, dābaq describes more than physical closeness; it speaks of a deep, intimate union—a clinging that forges two lives into one. In marriage, dābaq is the intertwining of souls, a bond that weathers storms, overcomes trials, and endures through every season.

 

It is the kind of connection where:

• Hands intertwine not just in romance but in shared burdens.

• Hearts beat in rhythm, understanding each other’s hopes, fears, and dreams.

• Lives merge, so that what affects one touches the other.

 

It is a clinging that says, “I will not let go. Not in sickness or health, not in joy or sorrow, not in wealth or want. We are bound, inseparable.”

 

Eleazar’s hand clinging to the sword carries this same force of meaning—a bond formed in the fire of battle, a refusal to let go because letting go would mean surrender.

Clinging to God: The Call to Become One with His Word

 

Eleazar’s story, viewed through the lens of dābaq, becomes a powerful metaphor for the believer’s relationship with God. We are called to cling to the Lord and His Word with that same fierce determination.

 

Consider these passages where dābaq is used to describe how we relate to God:

1. Deuteronomy 10:20 (ESV):

“You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast (דָּבַק, dābaq) to him.”

This is no casual relationship; it is a union forged through reverence, trust, and love.

2. Joshua 23:8 (ESV):

“But you shall cling (דָּבַק, dābaq) to the Lord your God just as you have done to this day.”

Here, the people of Israel are reminded that victory comes not from their military power but from clinging to the God who leads them.

3. Psalm 63:8 (ESV):

“My soul clings (דָּבַק, dābaq) to you; your right hand upholds me.”

David himself uses this word to describe the intimacy of his relationship with God—a soul clinging desperately because it knows that in God alone there is life.

The Beauty of Clinging: A Love that Endures

 

The beauty of dābaq is that it describes a relationship of choice and endurance. In marriage, dābaq is seen when love persists beyond the excitement of new romance—when it chooses to stay, serve, and sacrifice.

 

In faith, dābaq is seen when belief endures beyond the initial spark—when it clings through doubt, loss, and waiting.

 

It is easy to hold fast when the road is smooth. But true clinging happens when:

• Prayers seem unanswered, but you still believe.

• Dreams feel delayed, but you still trust.

• The battle is long, but you still refuse to let go of God’s promises.

 

Just like Eleazar’s fingers fused to the sword, our souls are called to cling so tightly to God’s Word that it becomes inseparable from who we are.

Modern Application: How Do We Cling Today?

 

Eleazar’s story and the meaning of dābaq challenge us: What do we cling to?

 

In a world offering countless things to grasp—success, approval, comfort—do we cling to God’s Word with the same unyielding grip?

• When anxiety tightens its grip, do we cling to the promise: “Cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, ESV)?

• When temptation whispers, do we hold fast to: “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man” (1 Corinthians 10:13, ESV)?

• When weary of the fight, do we remember: “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31, ESV)?

 

To cling is to refuse to release, even when we are weary. It is to say: “Lord, I will not let go. I will hold fast because You alone are my life.”

A Call to Cling Like Eleazar

 

Eleazar fought until his hand clung to the sword, not because he was the strongest, but because he refused to let go. And when the battle ended? “The Lord brought about a great victory.”

 

Victory belongs to God, but the clinging—the relentless holding fast—belongs to us.

 

And what happens when we cling?

• We are transformed.

• The Word becomes not just something we read but part of us—engraved on our hearts.

• Our lives become living testimonies of a faith that endures, of love that does not let go.

A Prayer for an Unbreakable Grip

 

Lord, teach me to cling to You. When the battles rage and my strength fails, may my soul hold fast to Your Word with an unyielding grip. Let me cling to You as Eleazar clung to his sword—until Your truth becomes part of me, shaping my thoughts, my words, and my actions. May my love for You be like the love described in marriage—steadfast, unbreakable, and enduring through all seasons. And when the fighting is done, may it be said that You brought about a great victory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Final Reflection: Becoming One with the Word

 

The story of Eleazar is the story of every believer who chooses not to let go—who clings through the fight, who holds fast when others fall away. The Hebrew word דָּבַק (dābaq) reminds us that faith is not passive. It is an active, determined grip—a refusal to release the God who holds all things together.

 

In our marriages, our friendships, and most importantly, in our relationship with God, may we cling with the kind of fierce, enduring love that refuses to let go.

 

Because when we cling, He brings the victory.

And in that union—of soul and Savior, of heart and truth—we discover what it means to truly live.