STUDIES IN SAMUEL NO. 56
2 Samuel 15:13-37
January 27, 2002
Text Comment
Now, once again, I admit at the outset that the verses we are about to read are, in fact, only a paragraph of a larger narrative and their importance is found primarily in the contribution they make to a larger story, whose great lessons are the real interest of our narrator. Last Lord's Day evening, we took a piece of that story and thought about the discipline of children because the particular text we read did, in fact, illuminate that issue, even if it was not its primary purpose. The texts of the Bible, we have often said, are thick with meaning and with lessons and no one can doubt, for example, that, whatever its main purpose, the story of David's collapsing family powerfully illustrates, alas in a negative way, the Bible's teaching about the nurture of children.
Well, tonight, we take the next scene in the account of Absalom's rebellion. It was not, I accept, the purpose of the narrator to teach a discrete lesson with this paragraph, but rather to tell the entire story, which entire story teaches important lessons. But that is not to say that we cannot find, even in this single paragraph, rich instruction for our faith, quite apart from the paragraph's larger mission. Such is the richness of the Bible and such the importance of every verse in a book that was written, in the truest sense, by no one less than the Holy Spirit. Every one of his words has weight!
v.14 As Robert Gordon, in his excellent commentary, begins, "David's Via Dolorosa begins with the evacuation of the city." [Com., 272] The via dolorosa or, sorrowful road, is, of course, a reference to the way Jesus took, bearing his cross as long as he could, from Pilate's palace to Calvary. It is a reminder of how often Jesus referred to his sorrows, even his betrayals, using the language and the experience of David himself. David, of course, walks his via dolorosa as punishment for his own sins. Jesus walked his as punishment for our sins.
The reason David left the city seems to be that, unsure of the full measure of Absalom's support, he could not risk being bottled up in Jerusalem when many who were in the city with him might well be followers of his son. As David would learn in time, Absalom's support was not as widespread as he first feared.
Hans Hertzberg, a German commentator, recalls that the German and Turkish armies abandoned Jerusalem to the allied armies at the end of 1917 so as to avoid the devastation that would have occurred if Jerusalem had been attacked and besieged. He wonders if this too may have been David's motive, to preserve the city intact. [Com., 341n]
In any case, as one perceptive commentator puts it, "Once again [David] is in contact with his old self…. Once again men seek his death and he enters the wilderness both figuratively and literally." [Fokkelman in Alter, Com., 285]
The rest of this chapter now relates the continuing loyalty to David of certain persons and groups. It was, of course, to David's great credit that those who knew him best stuck with him through these dangerous times.
v.16 Leaving the concubines behind, probably an expression on David's part similar to General MacArthur's "I shall return," would unintentionally create the circumstances in which another part of Nathan's prophecy of judgment against David would find its fulfillment. In 12:11 he had predicted that someone close to David would lie with his wives in broad daylight. This, of course, is what Absalom would do (16:20-22) as a way of burning his bridges and so nerving his supporters.
v.18 The Kerethithes and Pelethites were David's bodyguard (8:18). The Gittites were Philistines whom, we may assume, had become loyal to David during his sojourn in Philistia. Six hundred occurs frequently in military contexts, as does one thousand. It is suggested that six hundred may be a technical term for a brigade, however many men may have belonged to it exactly.
v.20 In his appeal to Ittai David is apparently testing his loyalty by giving him reasons to stay.
v.21 Ittai actually says "whether it means death or life…" and putting death first is an indication of his willingness to follow David no matter the consequence.
v.22 Ittai passed the test. His loyalty to David, as a Philistine, contrasts powerfully with the betrayal of Israelites such as Ahithophel.
v.23 On this verse and what follows, the perceptive Robert Gordon writes, "While the decision to abandon the capital was taken in haste (v. 14), the impression of a reluctant, emotion-laden withdrawal is conveyed by the intermittent progress reports (vv. 23, 30, 32; 16:1), and by accounts of conversations and encounters along the way." [Com., 273]
v.26 The first instance of many in this narrative that demonstrate that David is very much a man of faith still. He will make no effort, as did Hophni and Phineas, to ensure his personal victory by keeping the ark with him, as if it were a talisman or charm. Rather he will leave his fate in the Lord's hands.
v.28 These "fords in the desert" were crossing points on the Jordan River.
v.29 David's resignation to God's will does not mean that he will not take steps to deal with Absalom's rebellion. He sends trusted men back into the city to gather intelligence for him. Remember Oliver Cromwell's advice to his troops: "Trust the Lord and keep your powder dry!"
v.31 Ahithophel's defection was a serious blow. David probably had felt that he could out-think his son, but if Ahithophel was giving Absalom advice, the rebellion suddenly became much more likely to succeed.
Psalm 41:9 David laments "even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me." That has usually been thought to be a reference to Ahithophel. In John 13:18 that same verse is used in reference to Judas.
v.32 Hushai's appearance at the summit of the Mount of Olives is an immediate answer to David's prayer. Hushai will prove to be the means of undermining Ahithophel's contribution to the revolt.
v.33 Presumably this is a reference to Hushai's age.
v.36 David tells Hushai what every spy needs to know: that there will be a reliable network through which he can pass his information.
v.37 The timing portends Hushai's crucial role later on. "David's friend" does not mean simply someone who happened to be a friend of David. It was, apparently, a technical term (in 1 Kings 4:5 it is translated in the NIV as "personal adviser" to the king). Apparently, there was but one such person at a time.
Now there are two features of the situation as David faced it, leaving Jerusalem to Absalom, that I want to comment on briefly this evening. Each is so fundamental to a Christian outlook, to a Christian's view of life, that it is impossible to pay too much attention to these lessons.
The first concerns the mixture of good and bad that we find in Christian people, as we find it in ourselves. We have been hard on David this past few weeks. We have not spared him in describing the enormity of his crimes - either his adultery and murder or his abject failure as a father. We have made the point the narrator is concerned to make about the severity of God's judgment and how deserving David was of the catastrophe that befell him and his family. There will be, alas, a good bit more of this before we are done: more of David's sin and more of God's judgment of him and his house and nation for his sin.
However, we are going to see David now, in the midst of the revolt, once again finding his feet and practicing his faith. If his sins of the past few chapters repel us, as they should, his response to what has happened to him, as we read it in v. 26 is grand, grand, grand! Would that more believers had such faith, such humility, such stern realism about themselves, such honesty. David's statement, that he was ready and willing for the Lord to do to him whatever seemed right in his eyes - a statement that recollects Eli's similar statement in the face of God's judgment of him and his house - are the words of a man after God's own heart! How rarely do we encounter that spirit in ourselves, how rarely in others, even other Christians.
Here is a man who knows very well that he is getting precisely what he deserves (he will make that point still more clearly later) and that he is in no position to presume on the Lord's generosity. We talk a good conviction of sin, but David practiced it and practiced it when it mattered and when it hurt! So, in true faith and submission, he left his fate in God's hands. "Though he kill me, I will trust in him." Job did not say it any better than David did here or Eli in 1 Samuel 3:18. Remember Rutherford's comment, which we cited when talking about Eli's faith,
"…I beseech you in the [mercy] of Jesus, welcome every rod of God, for I find not in the whole book of God a greater note of the child of God, than to fall down and kill the feet of an angry God." [Letters, xii, p. 55]
That is what a truly Godly man or woman does who believes in the justice of God's ways, who truly and feelingly acknowledges his or her own sinfulness before a holy God, and who, at last, trusts in the mercy of God because he knows full well he has nowhere else to turn. He or she will agree to leave matters in God's hands, no matter how difficult they become: a sick child, a troubled marriage, a failing business, his or her own fading health. This does not make them passive, inactive. David will show himself very active in what follows as he puts down the rebellion both by intrigue and military conquest. But, before, behind, and beneath it all is this humble submission to God. There is in evangelical circles nowadays a great deal of chatty familiarity with God, breezy predictions that, of course, he will do this or that. But there is much less of this humble placing of one's hand over one's mouth.
The world can easily enough understand a person believing in God because he or she thinks that good will come of it, that he or she will receive some personal advantage or help. But believe even if there is no promise of such help? Believe when God makes life worse, much worse? This the world does not understand. To kiss the rod, to give God glory when your world is falling apart, this only those who know God and trust him will do or can do, only they understand why a person would do this.
That is what David did and it was beautiful faith and humility on his part. He was entirely willing to say that he deserved anything God meted out to him. And he was entirely willing to say that he trusted the Lord to do the right thing, whatever that might mean for him personally. Now that is faith in God!
However miserably David may have behaved, here he shows himself a great man. How like the world of God's grace. Show me a Christian, a real Christian, and I will show you someone with feet of clay. They will have done things that are disreputable and that no Christian should do and even more often they will have failed miserably to do things Christians should do. But, show me a Christian, a real Christian, and I will also show you someone with real virtue and goodness and with a heart that is better than a worldly man or woman's heart ever is. The more you read about the heroes of the church's past, the more of this you will see. Even the best believing men and women of the church's past were still sinful. They could be petty and vengeful, lustful and worldly, proud and defensive. And, yet, no one can deny the power of their faith or the virtue that came from that faith. Simul justus et peccator: at one and the same time righteous and a sinner, is how Luther put it. He was speaking particularly of our remaining sinners even though we were perfectly righteous in Christ, but it is just as true that we remain sinners even though we are really righteous in our behavior. What we see in David is what we see in every Christian: ugly sin and wonderful faith.
Just a few days ago I found myself in dialogue with a Christian young woman who was struggling with the fact that she was a serious disappointment to herself. Righteousness came with difficulty, sin and sloth came all too easily to her. And, what is more, she wondered, as many Christians before her have wondered, whether in one particular instance she might just have sinned too much. Perhaps now she was beyond the pale and God would have nothing more to do with her. Serious Christians worry about such things precisely because they take the sinfulness of sin and the holiness of God seriously.
Among other things, I took her back to David and reminded her of the enormity of his crimes and of that mixture of good and bad that we find in him and in every believer. In fact, in her particular case, I was able to show her that the sin she worried might have finished her for good, was, in fact, a sin that David had also committed - not his more famous sins, but a sin we know he committed because of things he says about himself in the Psalms.
In a way, this young woman was showing her faith just as David did in v. 26: she was taking in deadly earnest her own sin and the greatness of God. It is how we recognize real Christians in this world: we recognize them in the way in which in a distinctively Christian way they are a mixture of evil and good. And we recognize them in the way in which they respond to that fact: in humility, in contrition, in submission, and in a sense of utter dependence upon the mercy of God. Ask yourself whether the spirit you see in David in v. 26 can be found in your own heart. Ask yourself if you recognize yourself in David in v. 26 and if you know precisely why he said what he said and why it was right and good for him to say it. Ask yourself if you admire David in v. 26 and aspire to like him.
The second lesson taught in our text, really more illustrated than taught, is that of the impossibility of judging one's fortunes at any single moment and of the serious mistake of taking setbacks in life as evidence of the Lord's desertion.
Do you remember how, when Jacob's sons returned from Egypt the first time, without Simeon, who had been arrested by Joseph to guarantee the brothers' return with Benjamin, and when they had discovered their money returned in their sacks of grain, Jacob had cried out, "Everything is against me!" In the narrative, that cry of woe is highly ironic because the reader knows that everything, in fact, is about to turn wonderfully right for Jacob: he is about to reunited with the son he thinks is long dead, he is about to find himself a hero in Egypt, he is about to see his own dysfunctional family restored to love and harmony. "Everything is against me!" he says, and nothing could have been further from the truth.
Well, see David leaving Jerusalem; see him trudging up the Mount of Olives, barefoot, head covered, weeping. Everything is against him! His kingdom is in ruins. He is fleeing for his life. His own son wants him dead. His friend and counselor, Ahithophel, has turned against him. He must have felt low, low, low!
But, the fact is, the few steps he was able to take at this early stage in the rebellion - sending Zadok and Abiathar back to Jerusalem to be in the midst of the conspiracy, and then sending Hushai to join them - were to prove, in fact, in a relatively short time, the means by which the back of Absalom's revolt would be broken. David did not know that at the time, but it was so. He had prayed to God for help against Ahithophel, and moments later, there was Hushai, meeting David at the sanctuary at the summit of the Mount of Olives. David could not predict what the outcome of that encounter would be, but, as it happened, it would be his own restoration to Jerusalem as king of Israel and the death of Absalom his rebellious son.
What is it that makes afflictions afflictions? Is it not almost entirely that we do not know when and how they will end. If you have lost your job, but you know that next week you will have another job and a much better one, losing your job ceases to be an affliction. If your child is very sick but you know that he will be fully recovered tomorrow and live happily to a ripe old age, your child's sickness ceases to be an affliction.
But how many things trouble us in life precisely because we do not know how they will turn out or when we might expect relief. This is why "waiting on the Lord" takes on such importance in the life of faith as it is taught in the Bible. And that is why we should struggle more than we do against the tendency of our hearts to lose hope, to despair, to imagine that because we have waited long for help and relief it must not be coming at all. It is the Lord's way to make his children wait for his provision. He could have stopped Absalom in his tracks, but he did not. But he did come to David's aid and delivered him. David trusted in the Lord and waited for him and was not disappointed. His waiting was not passive. He took steps, he made plans, he committed troops to battle in due time, but he waited for the Lord.
It was David who wrote the great 40th Psalm:
"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire."
Later in that same psalm he prays, on the strength of his previous experience of waiting for the Lord and being heard and helped in due time [vv. 13-14]:
"Be pleased, O Lord, to save me; O lord, come quickly to help me. May all who seek to take my life be put to shame and confusion; may all who desire my ruin be turned back in disgrace."
And why is he in these terrible straits? He tells us in v. 12 of that same 40th psalm:
"For troubles without number surround me; my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see. They are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart fails within me."
I don't know of Absalom's revolt was the occasion of David's prayer in Psalm 40. It certainly fits. But the questions for us is: can you pray that prayer? Will you pray it in your times of trouble and frustration and fear?
Do you see the reality of things illustrated here in David's case - the great difference between "situational uncertainty", the fluid and uncertain state of his circumstances, and his "inner certainty" based on his faith in God's sovereignty and goodness and faithfulness? [Fokkelman, i, 182]
Can you weep and worry because of the very real troubles of your life, but, at the same time, pray as David prayed, briefly on his way up the Mount of Olives in v. 31, and, at length in such a psalm as Ps. 40? In the midst of trouble, can you wait for God to rise with healing in his wings?
Well, you can wait, you will wait, as David did, if you really believe in a sovereign and a faithful God. David had such faith in God, even though he had sinned greatly against his God. And that is the glory of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Great as our sins may be, unworthy as we no doubt are, much as we must often confess that our troubles are not unrelated to our own sins, our forgiveness in Christ makes it possible for us, even for us, to turn to him in prayer, to count on our heavenly Father's faithfulness and to be sure that in his own time and in his own way he will come to help us.