2 Sam. 18
David marshals the people and arrays them under Joab, Abishai, and Ittai the Gittite, the only man deemed worthy by the king to have the same rank in leading the army as its already long accredited leaders. Yet Ittai had "come but yesterday," a stranger who had no connections with God's people. What reason was there for exalting him to a post of such importance at this critical moment? His unreserved attachment to David. The Lord likewise entrusts us with service according to the measure of our love for Him.
David wants to go forth with his people into battle. They all reply: "Thou shalt not go forth." Both these sentiments are according to God. Instead of going out with his people David had remained at Jerusalem in the past (2 Sam. 11:1), and had had to bear the consequences; now he understands that his place is with the army; but the people are right also, for they appreciate David's worth; "Thou art worth ten thousand of us" (2 Sam. 18:3). The people in their love for David understand even better than does Ahithophel what this false prophet in his hatred against David was well aware of: "I will smite the king only... the man whom thou seekest is as if all returned" (2 Sam. 17:2-3). On both sides there is the conviction that everything depends on David. Only, on the part of the people faith is active; for them David absent from the battle field is just as much as David present. "It is better that thou succor us out of the city," they say. David yields to their request: "I will do what is good in your sight" (2 Sam. 18:3-4). This is how the Lord Jesus acts toward us. As He once did with the centurion and the Syrophenician woman, He yields to faith, He allows Himself to be constrained, for He cannot do other than to respond to what His own grace has wrought in the heart.
The people pass before the king. In presence of one and all David commands the leaders to "Deal gently... with the young man Absalom" (2 Sam. 18:5). What tenderness toward this rebellious son!—mixed with weakness perhaps but which nonetheless makes us think of the Lord's boundless love for His enemies. Oh! if only they would return and repent at this eleventh hour! Does not His patience with them reach to the furthest limits? Only when His patience is completely exhausted will God pour out the cup of His wrath; then there will be no more mercy.
What follows needs no commentary. The ungodly son is hanged in a tree to his cursing and shame. The magnificent hair that was his glory becomes the means of his ruin. This man who in his youth before he had any sons (2 Sam. 18:18, cf. 14:27) had erected a monument "to keep [his] name in remembrance" is buried under an unknown heap of stones in the wood of Ephraim while his monument which remains to this day is a reminder of his humiliation and his terrible judgment. So it will be with the Antichrist and the Beast who will rise up against the Lord. Their fall will be all the more terrible because they will have exalted themselves to be as God (Isa. 14:12-20).
We see God's hand in this disaster, but we also see Joab's murderous hand, a terrible thing. He is always committing evil. Here he shows what measure of respect he has for the king's will and person. His self-interest leads him to get rid of Absalom who had once humbled his pride (2 Sam. 14:32-33) and who might one day thwart him by setting Amasa in his place. Joab will kill Amasa himself when he sees that Absalom's murder has not produced the desired results. A man from among the people has more respect for the king's will than does the very head of his army (2 Sam. 18:12-13).
Israel is completely overthrown and flees before victorious Judah. Ahimaaz wants to be the first to bring the good news to David. He had risked his life to warn him of impending danger. Now he does not want to let another have the privilege of announcing his triumph to the king. Joab, always politically shrewd and knowing the king's feelings toward Absalom, tries to discourage him, but in vain. It matters little to Ahimaaz whether this may hurt him personally or hinder his career; he does not share Joab's politics. Whatever may come of it, he desires to be the first, bowed before the king, to acknowledge the dignity that again is his. This is the focus of all his energy, for he belongs to David wholeheartedly. Perhaps he also is thinking of breaking and softening the blow that Absalom's death will inflict on his beloved master's heart. One thing is certain: he has only David's glory in view. May we run like Ahimaaz! May we run to be the first at the feet of our victorious Lord, permitting no one to outstrip us!
When the Cushite announces the fatal news David's heart is broken with unconsolable sorrow: "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died in thy stead, O Absalom, my son, my son! (2 Sam. 18:33).
"Would God I had died in thy stead!" David could not do this. This was reserved for One alone who would die for the ungodly, the only One who was counted among the transgressors and who bore the sin of many (Isa. 53:12). But David could give free vent to his sorrow over the irrevocable loss of that one whose salvation he had so ardently desired.
No doubt human sentiments were mixed with all this mourning; this is why David needed to have a broken heart. While it is much, a broken spirit (Psa. 51:17) is not enough. With a broken spirit, self-will cannot be active. Before he had a broken spirit David had followed his own will which had led him into adultery and to Uriah's murder. A broken spirit gives up its own will in order to depend on God (2 Sam. 15:25-26; 16:10-12; 18:4). There was no need for Jesus' spirit to be broken. Did He not say, when He came into the world: "Lo, I come to do, 0 God, Thy will"?
But sooner or later our heart must be broken as well as our spirit. Sometimes God begins with the one, sometimes with the other. When Peter wept bitterly he truly had a broken, humbled heart, for brokenness of heart is always accompanied by humiliation (Psa. 51:17). Peter's spirit was not broken until later: "When thou wast young," Jesus says to him, "thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst where thou desiredst; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and bring thee where thou dost not desire" (John 21:18).
Often the heart is not broken all at one time; David's heart was broken on three occasions: at the court of Achish when he saw that he had dishonored the Lord and he himself was in the dust (Psa. 34:18); after the loss of his child (Psa. 51:17); and finally in our chapter. Here his humiliation was already complete, yet still his natural affections must be consumed and reduced to ashes so that divine affections alone might occupy his heart. God does not obtain this result except by this means. Only in a broken heart can the Lord occupy the full place.
Christ's heart was also broken, but in a way quite different from how our hearts are broken. His love was disregarded: this is what broke His heart. The more His love was demonstrated, the more hatred rose up against Him. "Reproach hath broken My heart" (Psa. 69:20). He did not need, as do we, this breaking in order to be laid bare. He was love itself, but His human heart was broken by the impossibility of showing forth this love in face of the hatred of man, whose only response to so much grace was the shame and ignominy of the cross. And in spite of all this the Savior's broken heart bore the curse and all the weight of God's judgment, so as to save those who railed on Him and spit in His face.
Nor let us forget that we need continual brokenness. Each time God wants to manifest some new feature of Christ in us, He breaks our heart so that it may appear. Thus it was with the apostle Paul. Jesus' light and life shining through this broken vessel warmed and quickened the soul of his brethren.
From this time onward God has no further need to break David. At last the radiant sun is rising; his heart is full of grace emerging from his cruel trial, and he becomes the dispenser of this divine grace toward others.