Scripture: 2 Samuel 18:1-33
Sermon Series: 2 Samuel: When God is Your King! – Sermon 18
In a twelve-month period Christopher Buckley (picture) had to deal with the passing of his father, William F. Buckley, father of the modern conservative movement, and his mother, Patricia Buckley, one of New York’s most glamorous and colorful socialites. Christopher was their only child. In his book, Losing Mum and Pup: A Memoir (picture), he writes about his struggle with grief. In the introduction he shares something some of you will resonate with. Not the loss of a parent but the loss of a child. He writes:
In an Asian kingdom, the noble lord sends a proclamation throughout the land, offering a huge reward to anyone who can distill for him in poetry the definition of happiness. A Buddhist monk duly shuffled in and handed the nobleman a poem that read, in its entirety:
Grandfather dies
Father dies
Son dies.
His lordship, having in mind something a bit more and profound, even upbeat, unsheathes his sword and is about to lop off the head of the impertinent monk. The monk says (in words to this effect), “Dude, chill! This is the definition of perfect happiness—that no father should outlive his son.” At this, His Lordship nods and hands the monk a sack of gold.
It’s one of life’s greatest heartbreaks when a child dies before his parents. Last year I had the heartrending responsibility of helping two sets of parents bury their thirty-something children. Child loss is a loss like no other.
In 2 Samuel 18, King David loses his rebel son, Absalom. Though Absalom is David’s enemy, and he wouldn’t blink at killing his father, he’s still David’s son. 2 Samuel 18 is one of the saddest chapters in the Bible.
David grieved over his broken relationship. Absalon angered over David’s refusal to punish Amnon for raping his sister, Absalom killed Amnon and fled. David’s servant Joab knew David longed for his fugitive son, so he arranged for Absalom to be brought home, but the father and son relationship is never the same. Absalom’s bitterness sparks a civil war that ends with his death. David goes to war with Absalom and wins, but it’s A Heartbreaking Victory. He laments his lost son and their broken relationship.
2 Samuel 18 confronts a quandary that we all continually deal with. It’s this – which principle would you prefer to prevail in human relationships – love or justice? Your answer is probably “It depends.” There are times when we want love to triumph over justice (particularly when we or someone we love are the ones in trouble with justice). At other times it seems wrong for the claims of justice to be outweighed by love and compassion.
We frequently see this in the media when someone commits a serious crime. Some want the judge to be lenient. Others want the judge to bring down the heavy hand of justice.
We continually experience this tension between justice and love. Our temperament or political persuasion can color our approach. Jane and I have found that true in our marriage. Jane tends to lean toward love whereas I learn toward justice.
Each of us either finds ourselves prioritizing justice (and related concepts like truth, law and responsibility) over love (and such things as compassion, kindness and forgiveness). Or we find ourselves on the other side, prioritizing love over justice. In a world contaminated by sin, it’s an unavoidable tension. Because of sin, love and justice do not meet.
Parents with a troublesome child agonize over this. Love for their child is strong but is it right to protect them from justice and the consequences of their bad, even criminal behavior? How can love and justice meet?
When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, “Your Kingdom come” (Matthew 6:10), we’re praying to the One who is perfect in justice and perfect in love. Perhaps the greatest wonder of His Kingdom is that love and justice are in perfect harmony. It’s the profound mystery of Christ’s cross. At the cross love and justice met. Justice was done and love triumphed.
2 Samuel 18 is about David’s kingdom. Here the demands of justice and the claims of love are in an irreconcilable conflict. It’s displayed in the war between David and his rebellious son who wants to destroy David and take over his kingdom. We see David’s intense love for Absalom. But what about justice? We can’t walk through this chapter without being grieved that in this situation love and justice never meet. If you’re taking notes…
1. The blind love of a father
Israel is in the midst of a civil war. America experienced this 160 years ago. Brother fought against brother; north vs. south; Federal government and the Confederacy. War is horrible, but a civil war only intensifies the horror. 750,000 died in the American Civil War. Those who talk frivolously about another civil war need to visit Ukraine and see the carnage, suffering and devastation.
In Israel’s civil war there is only one decisive battle resolved in a single day. The rebel prince, Absalom, has held center stage for the last five chapters. Now his life comes to a tragic end. The narrator’s emphasis is clearly on Absalom’s death and the effect it had on David and the kingdom.
David takes refuge in the fortified city of Mahanaim (map), east of the Jordan River. His top gun for 30+ years has been his nephew, Joab. Joab is joined by his brother, Abishai and a loyal Philistine, Ittai, to head David’s forces. As David prepares for battle, he divides his army into three units.
Military strategists tell you to never let your enemy choose the battlefield. The wooded forests of Ephraim gave David’s smaller force an advantage. They’re more experienced than Absalom’s forces and more adept at fighting hand to hand and one on one.
In these verses several conversations are recorded in detail. The first is when David tells his men that he’ll lead them into battle, but his idea is vetoed. Such love and loyalty are striking. The scene reminds students of modern warfare of a dramatic moment in the Battle of the Wilderness on May 6, 1864. General Robert E. Lee (picture) noted a breakthrough in his lines and organized a hasty defense. When a brigade of Texas troops arrived to plug the gap, Lee urged his horse, Traveler, forward with them. The soldiers stopped, refusing to go forward unless Lee returned to safety. “Lee to the rear! Lee to the rear!” they cried, until their beloved leader departed from the danger. David’s men felt the same way about their king. They’re willing to die to defend his life.
But here’s where things get weird. “And the king ordered Joab and Abishai and Ittai, ‘Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.’ And all the people heard when the king gave orders to all the commanders about Absalom” (2 Samuel 18:5). Deal gently? The king spoke these words, but it’s in his father’s voice. This is war. These men are risking their lives to fight for David. Absalom started this war. There’s no indication that he’d stop, even if he survived. David’s order is clear and public, yet unwise. He’s sending them to risk their lives while he wants to protect the evil enemy ringleader, his son, to be spared.
Absalom isn’t a teenager. He’s in midlife. He’d murdered his brother; sowed seeds of insurrection; forced David to run for his life from Jerusalem; seized his father’s throne and slept with the king’s concubines. He’s not someone who should be protected! It’s a morale buster. How do you tell an army to hold back? If an army holds back, doesn’t it risk being defeated?
David has the same problem that many parents have. It’s hard to discipline your children. No one wants their children crying or being mad at them.
Parents must do what’s right, the tough stuff. Discipline prepares our children to listen to God. God doesn’t count to 10 before He corrects us.
David is a passive parent. Notice his two words: “my sake.” It’s not about Absalom. It’s about David. For parents who indulge a child, reprimanding and disciplining them, feels as if they’re bringing harm to themselves.
The demands of justice and the requirements of love are in terrible conflict. Love demands gentleness. David asks for love without justice, but he’s the king. Kings were to administer justice, but love is denying justice.
2. The brutal justice of a general
God’s justice on Absalom has been delayed. The day of reckoning is finally here. The words of Anne of Austria (picture) are apropos, “God does not pay at the end of every week; but in the end He pays.”
The battle spreads to the forest. It was said that the land “wept aloud” when David fled Jerusalem (1 Samuel 15:23). Not it’s as if the land fought against the rebels. “The forest devoured more people that day than the sword” (2 Samuel 15:8). 20,000 men from Absalom’s army died. There are more fatal accidents in the undergrowth and treacherous terrain than killed in combat.
Both J.R.R. Tolkien (picture) in The Lord of the Rings and C.S. Lewis (picture) in Prince Caspian have trees fighting against evil enemies in their books. You have to wonder if Tolkien and Lewis were inspired to write about trees fighting evil from this chapter in 2 Samuel.
Absalom just happened to meet the servants of David. It’s worded as a chance encounter. We know it wasn’t by chance. God arranged this.
Absalom was riding his mule. It was like a royal horse. He’s committed to looking good. He’s all about image. Just as he rode around Jerusalem in a chariot, which had no practical value for war in the city, he’s riding a mule in a thickly wooded forest, which had no practical value in that terrain.
He saw David’s men and panics, galloping off. When teens start driving, you tell them to keep their eyes on the road to avoid an accident. Apparently, Absalom failed “Mule Driver’s Ed.” He probably looked behind him to see how close David’s men were. He didn’t see it coming. His mule runs under branches of a tree. Maybe they caught his long, thick hair. He’s hanging by his neck, but the mule keeps going leaving him suspended in the air.
Jewish Historian, Josephus (picture) suggests his hair snagged in the tree. What was Absalom’s pride? What did he boast about and refuse to cut only once a year? His long hair. The hair he boasted about left him hanging in a tree, dangling between heaven and earth.
God is working against Absalom. He hangs helpless, hopeless and humiliated. Hours before he’d boasted about his large army, fast mule, and good looks. Now he’s hanging in the air by his hair, without a mule or army.
One of David’s soldiers sees Absalom stuck in the tree and goes to Joab. Joab is shocked the man didn’t kill Absalom. He’d have rewarded him with ten pieces of silver and a belt. This guy knew Joab’s character. He said that even if he held a thousand pieces of silver, he wouldn’t kill the king’s son. Everyone knew David instructed the army not to hurt him. This man knew that if he killed Absalom, Joab wouldn’t stick up for him.
On May 1, 2011, the world learned that Osama bin Laden (picture), the mastermind behind the 9/11 attacks, had been killed. Information released after his death revealed an interesting irony. Bin Laden was one of the most violent and arrogant men in the world. He had multiple wives, commanded thousands, and found pleasure in watching himself on TV. But he met his end hidden away in a residence of squalor and disarray. Some reports indicated he’d spent the last six years of his life in those dire conditions.
Absalom, the handsome rebel meets his end hanging from a tree. Deuteronomy 21:23 says that anyone hung on a tree is under God’s curse. The rebel who seemed to have it all can’t escape God’s judgement. In the original it says he hung between heaven and earth, which is why Matthew Henry (picture) would wax poetic, “He hung between heaven and earth, as unworthy of either, as abandoned of both; earth would not keep him, heaven would not take him, hell therefore opens her mouth to receive him.”
It’s ironic that Joab initiates the execution. Remember it was Joab who’d orchestrated amnesty for Absalom and brought him home to Jerusalem. Joab obtained greater freedom for Absalom and brought him into the king’s presence. Yet for all Joab had done for Absalom, this man set out to take the throne away from his father and set another commander over Israel’s forces.
It was likewise Joab who, under orders from David, had Uriah killed in battle, without raising a word of protest. This military commander who would kill a righteous man at David’s request will now kill David’s own son in direct violation to David’s orders. “What goes around, comes around.” Somehow that seems fitting here. David, who abused his almost absolute authority to take Uriah’s wife, is powerless to save his own son from death at the hand of Joab.
The word spear isn’t the usual word for spear. It’s usually translated “staff” and refers to a stick for herding sheep. It’s unlikely Absalom would have survived three separate spear thrusts to his heart. We’re also told that it wasn’t Joab but his weapons bearers who kill Absalom. Apparently, Joab struck him in his chest or torso. That also explain why the ten others attack and kill him. The handsome prince would be mutilated after their attack.
Evaluating Joab’s action in killing Absalom is more than a simple right or wrong. Joab had a deep sense of justice. He acted for the sake of David’s kingdom as he saw it. With Absalom’s execution justice triumphs over love. Dale Ralph Davis (picture) writes, “David would treat cancer with candy. Joab knew it required surgery and he nominated himself as surgeon.”
In the end Absalom receives the burial of a traitor in a nameless grave in the forest. “And they took Absalom and threw him into a great pit in the forest and raised over him a very great heap of stones” (2 Samuel 18:17).
The soldiers bury Absalom, but it’s not the kind of burial he’d hoped for. They threw him into a pit and threw a heap of stones on top. When someone was executed as Achan was in Joshua 7, they’d be stoned with a pile of rocks thrown over the body. It was a makeshift monument of shame that identified him as a sinner who caused God’s people great grief.
It’s what happens to Absalom. These rocks were a monument of shame identifying him as one who caused God’s people great grief. It wasn’t the kind of legacy he wanted to leave, but it’s the one he left. It’s God’s justice.
Absalom illustrates God’s justice on all who resist God’s true King – Jesus Christ. 2 Thessalonians 1:7b-8, “When the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with His mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus.” Absalom’s death was the end of the revolt, so Joab blows the trumpet and calls a halt to the war with the rebels.
3. The purposeless swift runner
The place? Dublin, Ireland. The time? End of the 19th century. Thomas Huxley (picture), devoted disciple of Darwin and famous skeptic was a traveling lecturer. Having finished another series of public assaults against truths that Christians held sacred, Huxley was in a hurry the following morning to catch his train to the next city.
Huxley took one of Dublin’s famous horse-drawn taxis and settled back with his eyes closed to rest for a few minutes. He assumed the driver had been told the destination by the hotel doorman, so all he said as he got in was, “Hurry…I’m almost late. Drive fast!” The horses lurched forward and galloped across Dublin at a vigorous pace. Before long Huxley glanced out the window and frowned as he realized they were going west, away from the station not toward it. Leaning forward, Huxley shouted, “Do you know where you are going?” Without looking back, the driver yelled a classic line, not meant to be humorous, “No, your honor! But I’m driving very fast!”
Absalom is dead, buried under a pile of rocks. Someone must tell David the good news that the war was won and the bad news that his son is dead.
“Then Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said, “Let me run and carry news to the king that the LORD has delivered him from the hand of his enemies’” (2 Samuel 18:19). Ahimaaz was the son of a priest. He’s on the Jerusalem track team. We saw him last week when he ran the 20 miles from Jerusalem to warn David of Athithophel’s plans to attack him that night. He wanted to run again to tell David the good news that the war was over. But Joab wouldn’t let him be the messenger. Instead, Joab chose one of his servants, a Cushite.
Joab didn’t want Ahimaaz to run with this news. It was bad news and David had a reputation of not responding well to bad news. He didn’t want David to take Ahimaaz out. So, Joab chose another runner, just a servant. The people of Cush come from Sudan. He’s one of those fast African runners like we see in the Olympics. If David reacted rashly, it wasn’t the loss it would be with Ahimaaz, the son of David’s loyal friend.
But Ahimaaz is full of juice. He wants to run. He badgers Joab. Finally, to pacify him, Joab lets him run. He figured the speedy Cushite, who’d left a before would arrive first to give David the bad news.
Ahimaaz is one of those young, energetic guys who loved to run. Apparently, he took a different route and beat the Cushite.
Now, the camera shifts back to Mahanaim, where David anxiously awaits news from the battlefront. He had a man climb the wall and scan the horizon. Finally, he saw something. A man running alone. That was likely good news. It wasn’t an army in retreat, just one man with news. Then the watchman noticed another man running. That was interesting. The first man in the lead appeared to be Ahimaaz. They didn’t recognize him by his face but by his stride. Finally, Ahimaaz arrived exhausted and spoke only one word as he caught his breath. In Hebrew, it was Shalom, peace. All is well. He gave God the credit for the victory showing his upbringing as the priest’s son.
But David doesn’t care about the victory. He wanted to know about his son. And Ahimaaz flubs this one. He freezes up. He claimed there was a lot of commotion and didn’t know what happened. He lies. Joab had told him but he’s afraid to speak the truth. He gets cold feet.
He’s like many of us with the gospel. We’re faced with pressure from a lost family member or friend, and we freeze. We’re fearful of telling God’s absolute truth. “The reason the good news is the good news is because the bad news is that you’re lost before God and need to be rescued by a loving Savior.” And we become irrelevant. The messenger must bring the message—the good and bad with it. It’s only the bad that makes the good good, and it is only the good that can deal with the bad. As J. Vernon McGee (picture) said, “There are many messengers running about today telling the human family that God says all is well, but all is not well.”
As the Cushite arrives, David puts Ahimaaz aside. Like Ahimaaz, the Cushite spoke of the general victory, then with David’s prompting, shares Absalom’s end in a diplomatic yet unambiguous way. “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rise up against you for evil be like that young man” (2 Samuel 18:32).
Ahimaaz was so like us. We’re often in a hurry but with no purpose. Great speed, much motion, rapid movement…unknown destination. Psychologist Rollo May (picture) observes, “It is an old and ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way.”
Are you in a big hurry? Working up lots of lather, but unaware of your destination? A growing number of voices are pointing at hurry, or busyness, as the root of much evil. Some even argue that hurry doesn’t just make you weary, it’s the great enemy of your spiritual life.
Jesus was never in a hurry. He made the most of each moment in His life. He connected with others and used His words and actions to be a part of God’s restoration to hurting people.
But Jesus wasn’t only unhurried, He had a focus. He knew His purpose. He had faith and focus for the moment He was in. You see, it’s not enough to run. We must know where we’re going and our God-given purpose. But David’s reaction to this news is one of the saddest verses in Scripture.
4. The brokenhearted father who couldn’t stop justice
“And the king was deeply moved and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And as he went, he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” (2 Samuel 18:33).
A.W. Pink (picture) summarizes this, “Probably this was one of the most patheitic lamentations that ever issued from a stricken heart.” It’s almost impossible to represent the intensity of emotion in this verse.
Throughout the entire episode David never called Absalom “son.” Now and only now in his death, “son” comes pouring from his lips again and again and again. David feels the emotion of a father. It’s too late. All he has left are memories tainted by bad decisions, regret and missed opportunities. His tears are the broken heart of a loving father. As Spurgeon (picture) said, “Our children may plunge into the worst of sin but they are our children still.”
If we think being a Christian will keep us from regrets, we’re mistaken. The Christian is spiritually alive, but the scars of sin won’t be erased in this life.
Billy Graham (picture) was on the television show, Larry King Live (picture) with a non-Christian. Larry asked both Graham and the other guest, “Do you have any regrets?” The non-Christian boasted that he had none. Billy Graham said he regretted his sins that had hurt others, and he regretted having been away from his children too much. But he said that he had to leave his regrets with Christ, who not only forgives but redeems.
Absalom is responsible for his sin, yet this also happened because of David’s sin. As Nathan had prophesied, the sword never departed from David’s house. We never sin in a vacuum. There’s always a ripple effect.
David loved Absalom but he’s unable to save Absalom from the consequences of his evil. Joab saw that justice won in the end. Practically, politically even judicially – Joab was right. But politics isn’t everything.
David had experienced God’s grace when he’d behaved as wickedly as Absalom. Can it be right to dismiss David’s love for his son as weakness? I don’t know of any parent who could pour out justice on their own child. They would substitute and pour it out on themselves first.
David, like Absalom is a sinner. He can’t fix it, and neither can we. Justice demanded one thing. David’s love for Absalom longed for something else. Remarkably, David’s helpless cry anticipated the solution that one day would be provided in Jesus Christ. The Lord Jesus did die instead of us.
Conclusion
What David longed to do in place of Absalom, God accomplished for us in His Son, the Lord Jesus. Christ went to the cross to die in our place, an act of love and justice. He died for our sin in our place.
Absalom died hanging on a tree with a spear for his rebellion. Jesus died on a tree with a spear for our rebellion. God wasn’t finished with David and He’s not finished with us. David was a hot mess. So are we. Jesus went to the cross to fix hot messes. He went to the cross because of God’s love and God’s justice. “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree” (Galatians 3:13). On the cross Jesus hung between heaven and earth under the judgement of God. He did it because God loves us. The good news of the gospel is justice and love – justice satisfied by the One who loved us, so God is “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Romans 3:26).
There were two friends who grew up on the same street in the same city. They were best friends throughout their childhood, but after high school their paths went different ways. One went to college, studied law and became a lawyer. He climbed the ranks and eventually became a judge.
The other sank into a life of crime. One day, he was caught for theft. When he was summoned to appear in court, it turned out that that the judge presiding over his case was his long-time childhood friend. When his friend looked down from his chair, he was torn as to what to do.
On the one hand he loved his friend and wanted to let him go free. But, on the other hand he knew as a judge it was his job to see justice be paid for a crime. How could love and justice both be met?
After some internal reflection he pounded down his gavel and announced the most severe fine possible, an amount his friend would never be able to pay. But then, he got up out of his chair, stepped down from the bench, and walked over to his friend. He took out his checkbook and wrote out a check for the entire amount that he’d just fined his friend. “Here” he said, “I will pay the penalty for you because I love you.”
That’s what God did for us. We’re helpless sinners before a holy Judge, God. But because God loves us, He made a way for our sins to be forgiven. Because God is just, He can’t ignore sin. The Bible says the penalty of sin is “death” (Romans 6:23). So, God took it on Himself to pay that penalty in the person of His Son, Jesus Christ.
It was too late for Absalom. It’s not too late for you. Because of the cross, God’s justice is satisfied. His mercy is extended to you. You though must believe it. You must accept it. John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” The word commit is another way of saying it. You must commit your life to Christ. Have you done that? Why not do it today?