There’s a national shouting match going on, about what kind of man President Trump is, and what that means for our country. One shout sometimes raised in his defense has been, “He’s just like King David!” The righteous king David also committed adultery. And he had the husband killed to cover up the affair. Terrible consequences followed, and David wrote Psalm 51 to express his regret and ask forgiveness.

That story doesn’t track too closely with any Trump scandal, though. Even the wildest accusations against Trump don’t include murder, and even the biggest Trump fans don’t expect him to compose any Psalms of repentance.

A more relevant comparison can be found in a different phase of David’s life. Instead of looking at David’s misdeeds as king, let’s look at David’s outlaw years.

David the Classic Outlaw Hero

David was a classic outlaw hero; a romantic bandit prince. They’re outsiders, bold and daring, constantly on the run. They’re often coarse and sometimes ruthless, but with hearts of gold. Enemies of the corrupt; heroes of the people. David, son of Jesse; Robin Hood; Jack Duggan, the “Wild Colonial Boy”; Jesse James; “Pancho” Villa. Their lasting popularity and President Trump’s have common elements.

Let’s consider our biblical example. During his period as a “wolf’s head,” David flouted religious law (begging the “showbread” for trail rations). He conducted ruthless and deadly “false flag” raids. He even ran something of a protection racket among Israel’s sheep farmers — and married the quick-thinking recent widow of one of his marks. David colluded extensively and openly with the Philistines. During one crisis, he even convinced a foreign head-of-state that he was a lunatic. (He did this the hard way. He had no Twitter account).

Doubtless King Saul’s loyalists denounced all of these actions. David’s own sympathizers, though, surely regarded them as colorful exploits, at worst. At best, perhaps they seemed to be proof that their candidate was shrewd enough to be a first-rate monarch. This outlaw, David, looked like someone who’d make Israel great again.

Like the James Gang in post-Civil War Missouri, or Pancho Villa’s army in the early twentieth century, David’s band became a focus of hope for some of his nation’s desperate people. (Happily for those people, David proved a worthier hero by far.)

Israel at that time was in shambles, largely through King Saul’s bad decisions and poor priorities. The prophet Samuel had ordained David as the next King, but it was King Saul whose decisions created “David, the outlaw hero.”

The Flourishing Outlaw

For the outlaw hero to really flourish, several factors must come into play.

First, a significant group of people must feel disenfranchised, and question the legitimacy of the authorities ruling them. The Irish under English rule celebrated highwaymen, Mexican peasants applauded Villa, because they saw them as allies against a common enemy.

Those cheering on, and even aiding, Jesse James were not generally people who believed that it was right to rob banks or trains. However, they very much believed that the banks, the railroads and the authorities were robbing them. From their point of view, the James gang were thieves sent to catch the thieves.

Second, a truly memorable outlaw hero needs a certain larger-than-life, flamboyant style. Many outlaw heroes cultivated their images deliberately. (Storytellers tended to add it in later, if they happened to forget to.) A quick tongue and a feel for the grand gesture are musts for the self-respecting outlaw hero. And defiant catchphrases are always in style: “I’ll fight, but not surrender,” said the Wild Colonial Boy.” Covfefe!

But bold defiance would be pointless without implacable pursuers to defy. That’s the most important factor in a good outlaw story. It’s also a big part of how King Saul drove David from being his most capable lieutenant into becoming his replacement. The people who put the outlaw hero on the map, and into the history and storybooks, are the powerful establishment figures who swear to bring him down, if it’s the last thing they do.

Abusive and Corrupt

Those authorities, of course, need to be abusive and corrupt. They’re personal in their motivations even when the law may, technically, be on their side. These avenging furies go past law enforcement into vendetta. In the stories, in the movies, and occasionally on CNN, they often descend into tantrums, as if for dramatic effect. The raging, paranoid King Saul; the ruthless and devious Pinkertons; the callous and corrupt Sheriff of Nottingham — these are the villains who make the outlaw a hero.

The more they squander time and effort in pursuit of the elusive renegade, the more beloved a figure he becomes. A sufficiently over-the-top performance by the howling, drooling hounds of adulterated justice can even make a sort of “outlaw hero” of a nation’s chief law enforcement officer.

That’s how Trump maintains impressive levels of public support, in the midst of tawdry scandal. His pursuers’ unscrupulous and vindictive behavior keep the fans rooting for the underdog in the White House. They don’t really want to see their hero get away with wrongdoing. They just don’t want to see his gloating adversaries get away with a different sort of wrongdoing.

The Outlaw’s End

How does the outlaw hero saga end? Each tale unfolds differently. Robin Hood helps return England to honest government. Jesse James is treacherously murdered. The “Wild Colonial Boy” is gunned down by the law. “Pancho” Villa, conscious of his image to the bitter end, reputedly gasps, “Tell them … that I said something!” when he cannot compose the perfect last words.

And David, son of Jesse, proves to be a shrewd and tough king. He does wonders for the effectiveness of Israel’s foreign policy. He reinvigorates its economy and culture, too, though he also commits his most grievous personal sins.

Circumstances may create an outlaw. Irrational, furious pursuit helps create the legend. However, in the end only the man himself, and the hand of Providence, can create a genuine legacy.