As believers, we ought to be quick to acknowledge God's sovereign hand over all of our victories. But how should we consider his providential role in tragedy? We'll explore the answer to that today on Truth for Life as we follow the battle between King David and his son Absalom. Alistair Begg is teaching from 2 Samuel chapter 18.
We're starting at verse 9. Let's keep in mind this Absalom fellow. He's handsome beyond measure, no blemish from the sole of his feet to the tip of his head. He had a hairstyle that was quite remarkable—enough for it to get mentioned in the local newspapers. He had decided that, having established himself in a position of erstwhile authority, that he would get a chariot for himself.
That's back in chapter 15. He also, in dealing with the people, told them what they wanted to hear. He's the consummate politician. And he then stole their hearts by telling them what he wanted to hear. Look at him. He happened to meet the servants of David.
He has himself set up. His father wishes him no harm. But the LORD has ordained the defeat of Ahithophel's counsel so that he might bring harm upon Absalom. Because God is the one who brings princes to nothing. Scarcely has their stem taken root. Scarcely are they sown. Then the wind blows over them, and they wither.
And so what we have here in 9–15 is that the forest—we might put it this way—the forest is up to its tricks. One minute, he's on his mule. And if you remember, on a previous occasion, we're told that all the sons of the king left on their mules.
So it was sort of like standard issue if you were a son of the king. You had a mule. Not everybody would have a mule, but you had a mule. And so it's no surprise that he was riding on his mule.
At least one minute he was, and the next minute he wasn't. Because in the next minute, the mule keeps going, and he is left dangling. Dangling. His head caught fast in the oak. Now, why is it we want it to be his hair that got tangled up in the oak? Well, we don't know if it was his hair or it wasn't his hair. We know he had his hair. But the chances are it would seem that if, let's imagine, that he happens upon the servants of David, he begins to make a run for it, he looks over his shoulder to see how close they are behind him, and he nails the branches of a tree which close around his neck.
And as they close around his neck and grab him, the mule leaves without him, and there he is, verse 9b, suspended between heaven and earth. Quite a picture, isn't it? Nothing his good looks can achieve now.
No ability to influence the people by telling them what they want to hear. No, look at him there. The picture is clear. He hangs helpless, hopeless, and humiliated. Even his mule has gone. And meanwhile, back in the city, David is waiting, hoping that Abishai and Ittai and Joab will have obeyed his order to deal gently with the young man Absalom. Now, just—and this is masterful in the way this story is told—just when we, as the readers, want resolution to this, the narrator then leaves us dangling in much the same way by recounting the incident which then follows. And in creating suspense in telling story, you have to do that.
It's not invented. It happened. But you could have moved very quickly through this as well, couldn't you? He has chosen to give us a summary of the vast battle in three verses. Now he tells us that he is hanging in a tree, and then it says, And a certain man… Oh, what's this about? And a certain man saw this and told Joab, I saw Absalom hanging in an oak.
And I think the inference is pretty clear, if we put it as I tried to in the reading. Joab said to the man who told him, What, you saw him? You saw him? Why didn't you strike him to the ground? This is no time to be asking for a selfie. This is the rebel pretender to the throne.
We are out here in order to make sure that David is delivered and he is destroyed. What do you mean, you saw him? I would have given you a reward. You could have got a belt of victory.
You could have had money in your hand. But you will notice the man's response reveals two things—one, that he is principled, and two, that he is a pragmatist. He's principled. And he is brave, I think, at the same time, because Joab, as we know from past experience, doesn't suffer fools gladly. Well, he says to him, We heard what you were told, and that is to protect Absalom. Furthermore, he says, if I had killed him, I don't see there's any reason for me to believe that you would have protected me.
And if you didn't protect me, then I'd be left twisting in the breeze, just like Absalom himself. Well, it seems that he's pretty persuasive in his response, because you will notice that Joab chooses not to take him on. Verse 14, Joab says, I'm not gonna waste time with this. I'm not gonna argue. That's often the response of somebody up against a pretty good argument. Well, we're just not going to argue.
Okay, well, then that's fine. But what he's saying is this. We're not having a discussion about the morality of war here.
We're not gonna have an ethical discussion. Absalom is the enemy, we're involved in a military exercise, and despite David's plea, it is clear that Joab, in keeping with his personality, is not about to go soft. And he doesn't go soft. And so you will notice what happens then. Incidentally, the word for javelins here could be translated equally stick or could be translated a rod, in much the same way that thousands and hundreds can be translated as, like, regiments or platoons or whatever it might be.
So just to keep that in mind. And so, what happens here is described for us. He took three sticks or three javelins in his hand. Why three? Well, there's no reason. We don't know why three. I thought maybe it would be like this.
Let's say it's a stick and not a javelin, or a pretty sharp stick. And he says to him—he's up in the tree, and he goes, Hey, this one is for Abishai, and this one is for Ittai, and this one is for me. Or the three regiments are represented in this. Perhaps even in some way in his mind, he wants to make it clear this is not a one-man operation here, when the word finally gets back. Or, as I sat there thinking some more, I said, Maybe he said, This one is for Amnon, this one is for you being a pain in the neck, and this one is for burning my barley field. Which, remember, he did.
Whatever. Absalom hits the ground. Incidentally, if Absalom had heeded Ahithophel's counsel, he would not be here. He listened instead to Hushai's counsel, because Hushai, remember, suggested that Absalom should be front and center. And Absalom likes the idea of being front and center. Well, now, here he is.
He hits the ground, and having been devoured by the forest, he is now destroyed by ten young men. A reminder to us that brutal violence is not a new thing. A reminder, too, of the word of Scripture. Be not deceived, God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man sows, that shall he also reap.
Of that there is no doubt. Now, in 16–18, I simply wrote in my notes, This is vanity. Vanity. I'm thinking vanity in terms of Ecclesiastes. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.
It is an unhappy business. Absalom's life was really a striving after the wind. Again, in Ecclesiastes, the writer says, I saw vanity under the sun, a man all alone who had no one, neither son nor brother. And there you have it. I have no son to keep my name in remembrance. Oh, you say, but didn't we read earlier a few weeks ago about three boys and a daughter?
Yes, we did. Well, then, is that not a contradiction? It's an apparent contradiction. I assume that by the time this incident takes place that these three sons have died in infancy. And he has no son. He has no one now to whom he may entrust his legacy. And Joab has blown the trumpet.
He has restrained the troops. And Absalom is not ceremonially laid to rest, but he's thrown into a great pit. And he is covered by a great heap of stones.
And the wind blows over it, and its place knows it no more. You see, Absalom had sought to make a name for himself. Remember, the word of God to Abraham was, I will give you a great name. You remember how we've seen in our studies that that promise to Abraham was then reinforced in the promise being made also to David, and I will give you a great name.
Pointing forward to the name that is above every other name. But everybody else, Absalom included, seeking to make a name for themselves, is foolish—foolish in the extreme. And so you will notice that he has, if you like, two gravesites. He has one in this great mound of stones, which exists as a testimony to his rebellion and to his ruinous end. And he has another, which is he already planned for himself, setting up a pillar in the Valley of the Kings so that whatever happened to him, people would be able to say, You see, that is Absalom there. That is Absalom's monument. A great monument to himself. That would almost inevitably mean that people would see that monument and say, But wasn't he buried in the forest under a heap of stones? Yes.
Yes. Well, the mission is accomplished. Absalom, buried without ceremony.
How grieved he would have been, wouldn't he? The army's gone. And in storytelling terms, again, you're ready for the conclusion.
And what have we got? The story of the runners. The runners' delivery from 19 all the way through, essentially, to verse 32.
Actually, what I called it in my notes was the runners' delivery, with the apostrophe after the s. The issue is pretty clear, isn't it? Amaha fancies the opportunity to be the fellow with the good news. Perhaps he wants to do it because he almost made a hash of it the previous time, when in his sidekick they ended down a well.
Remember? So maybe he could have a good one to counteract the not-so-good one. He wants to be the deliverer of the news. Oh no, he says, it's not for you to go and bring good news today, because after all, the king's son is dead.
Rather, what we're going to do is we're going to send Cushite, the Cushite man. He's got no skin in the game here. He's a foreigner.
There's no emotion attached to him. He can simply go and say what he wants to say. Oh, but Amaha says, No, no, I want to go, I want to go.
Please can I go? And so eventually he goes, Okay, go. And then what happens is Amaha manages to get there before the Cushite. And then the watchman who is up on the roof is—and David, incidentally, is between the gates.
I'll leave that alone for now, but it is such a metaphor, isn't it? He is between the gates. Absalom is between heaven and earth, and he is between the gates. He's neither here or there. Emotionally, he's between the gates. In many ways, he's between the gates. Anyway, the watchman says, it looks like the first one is Amaha's, to which David replies, Oh, Amaha's is a good man. He'll be bringing good news. It almost makes me weep. Of course he says that.
Deal gently with the boy. They say, Well, Amaha's is coming. Oh, Amaha's, he's a good… He'll be bringing good news inside himself. He's saying, Won't he? Won't he?
Well, of course, Amaha's gets there. He outruns the Cushite. And David only has one question for him. He says, You weren't going to do this part.
I know when I have to do this part. He has only one question for it. Only one question. Is it well with the young man Absalom? Is it well with the young man Absalom? And at that point, Amaha's, who has said twice in the dialogue, Come what may, come what may, or no matter what happens, I'm the guy to go, Oh yeah, Mr. Come what may, how are you doing now when the question comes, that is, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, is all well with the young man Absalom?
What happens there is quite remarkable. He bottles it. He gets cold feet.
He just rambles and mumbles. He is like a pastor who has lost confidence in the gospel. He's like a pastor who is no longer able to actually tell the absolute truth, who is no longer prepared to say, The reason the good news is the good news is because the bad news is that you are lost before God.
Oh, no, please don't say that. Oh, you see, he makes himself irrelevant, and that's exactly what happens. And he said, Well, he's a good man with good news. And he says in verse 30, Hey, turn aside and stand here. So he turned aside and stood still.
I mean, it's fabulous, isn't it? It's frozen. Frozen. Oh, there's many a frozen pastor. Turn aside, says God.
Turn aside and stand still. Either tell the truth or be done with the whole business. Who would ever think of you as a messenger? No, the messenger must bring the message, the good and the bad, with it. For it is only the bad that makes the good good, and it is only the good that can deal with the bad. So the Cushite does it.
The Cushite does it. Good news for the king. Same response.
Here's my question. Is it well with the young man Absalom? And masterfully, the Cushite manages to say, No, it's not, and he's dead, without ever actually using the phrase, He is dead, or even actually using the name Absalom.
Very good, isn't it? He's not being duplicitous. May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rise up against you for evil be like that young man. And so we have then, in verse 33, what is a personal tragedy.
Grief consumes the king. He doesn't ask why his order has been set aside. He doesn't answer how these things have transpired. He's now made aware of the fact that the deliverance is his, the kingdom is safe, but he is sad.
The picture is clear. He's deeply moved. He's overwhelmed. He moves away from that context, goes to the chamber over the gate, where he can be by himself and weep. Oh, my son, my son.
He says five times, Oh, my son. Remember earlier, where we pondered that little phrase, and we said it was difficult to get our hands around, you know, that he longed to go out to Absalom? He longed to go out to Absalom. And we said, Does that mean he longed to go out and get him and punish him?
Or what was it? I don't know what it was there, but I'll tell you what, in the sense that he longed to go out to Absalom now, we know exactly what it means, but he can't. The agony of all that could have been, all that was, all the things he did but now regrets, all cascading in in that moment.
How he allowed Joab to negotiate the deal to bring him back to Jerusalem, but then he said to him, Yes, he can come back to Jerusalem, but he's not coming in my house. And for two years, he left his son separated from him, whether legitimately or illegitimately or selfish or whatever it was. But when that day dawns and when that person is taken from you, all those issues will come back and descend upon you.
Be sure of it. He loved his son, but he loved justice, because the kings of the earth are to do justly. And justice had been done at the expense of his love. But it's actually more—you will see, and we'll come back to this perhaps—it was more than simply a display of affection. It really is a cry of dereliction.
Oh, I wish I had died in place of you. Well, you see, David was painfully aware of the fact that it was his sin that had led to all of this. It was his sin. And so his guilt in flames stirs up his grief. But David is obviously unable to do what he says he wishes he could do, thereby reminding us… And with this I finish. And I have a new Jewish friend who has begun to listen to these services. And he said to me a few weeks ago, he says—I follow along—he says, And then you do the pivot.
Well, my friend, if you're listening, here comes the pivot. What David was unable to do, his greater son did—namely, the Lord Jesus, who died in the place of the sinner, who died so that we need not die, who, unlike David, who shed tears over his own sinful and guilty life, the man of sorrows, came to bear our griefs and to carry our sorrows. And he was able to do so because the Lord had laid on him the iniquity of us all. It's just a simple reminder again that the Bible is a book about Jesus.
If this study in 2 Samuel 18 and all the others do not bring you to Christ, then you've missed it. Oh, may there be none who miss it. Let us pray. Wounded for me, wounded for me, there on the cross, Christ was wounded for me, and gone my transgressions, and now I am free, all because Jesus was wounded for me. Lord, grant us grace to rest in Christ alone.
Amen. That is Alistair Begg reminding us that the one place where perfect love and perfect justice meet is the cross of Jesus. You're listening to Truth for Life. Earlier this month at Truth for Life, we featured volume two of the Truth for Life devotional, and it has been very popular. In fact, since we released the Truth for Life daily devotionals a few years ago, we've heard from many of you who've reached out to let us know how much you have benefited from them. Well, this has led to a lot of requests for the devotional to be available in an audio version. And I'm happy to tell you, you can now not only read the Truth for Life daily devotional, you can enjoy hearing it read to you. It's currently available on the today tab on our website at truthforlife.org and on our mobile app. The audio devotional makes it possible for you to listen as you're preparing to begin or end your day while you're out taking a walk or driving to work or school.
It can offer a meaningful way for you to stay calm if you're stuck in a traffic jam or you're stuck in a waiting room, for example. You can subscribe to the audio devotional as a brand new podcast called Truth for Life daily devotions. Go to Apple podcasts or Spotify, or any popular podcast app. Each day you'll hear a passage of scripture, followed by a brief commentary to help you think through the teaching. Look for the podcast by searching Truth for Life daily devotions wherever you listen. I'm Bob Lapine, thanks for studying the Bible with us. You probably heard it said that death is the great equalizer, but is that true? Is that biblical? Join us tomorrow to find out. The Bible teaching of Alistair Begg is furnished by Truth for Life, where the Learning is for Living.
Whisper: medium.en / 2025-01-23 05:24:50 / 2025-01-23 05:33:32 / 9