WE are again called to follow David into the valley of humiliation—a deep valley indeed, where grievous sin and its bitter fruits are fully seen. It is really wonderful to trace the chequered path of this remarkable man. No sooner has the hand of love restored his soul, and set his feet again upon the rock, than he is again plunged into the depths of corruption.
We have just seen his error in reference to the house of God graciously corrected, and we are now to behold him led captive in the chains of natural desire. Such, alas! is man—a poor, halting, stumbling creature, needing at every moment the fullest exercise of divine grace and forbearance.
The history of the most obscure believer will be found to exhibit, though on a smaller scale, all the roughnesses, inequalities, and inconsistencies observable in David's course. Indeed, it is this that renders the narrative of his life and times so peculiarly, so touchingly interesting to us.
Where is the heart un-assailed by the power of unbelief; like David when he fled for refuge to the king of (lath? or by mistaken notions in reference to the Lord's service, like David when he sought to build a house for God, before the time? or by emotions of self-complacency and pride, like David when he sought to number the people? or by the vile lustings of nature, like David in the matter of Uriah the Hittite? If there be such a heart, it will find but little interest in tracing the ways of David. But well I know my reader has not such a heart, for wherever there is a human heart, there is also the susceptibility of all that I have been enumerating, and, therefore, the grace that could meet David must be precious to every heart that knows its own plague.
The section of our history on which we are now entering is an extensive one, embracing many important principles of Christian experience and divine dealing. The facts of the ease are, doubtless, familiar to all; but it will be profitable to look closely at them.
David's sin led to Absalom's conspiracy. "And it came to pass, after the year was expired, at the time when kings go forth to battle, that David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel; and they destroyed the children of Ammon, and besieged Rabbah. But David tarried still at Jerusalem." (2 Sam. 11:11And it came to pass, after the year was expired, at the time when kings go forth to battle, that David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel; and they destroyed the children of Ammon, and besieged Rabbah. But David tarried still at Jerusalem. (2 Samuel 11:1).) David, instead of being out at the head of his army, exercising himself in the hardships and fatigues of war, was quietly reposing at home. This was giving the enemy a manifest advantage over him. The moment a man absents himself from his post of duty, or retires from the place of conflict, he renders himself weak. He has taken off the harness, and will, undoubtedly, be pierced by the arrow of the enemy. While at work for the Lord, be the work what it may, nature is kept under pressure; but when at ease, nature begins to work, and feel the action and influence of external things. We should, seriously ponder this. Satan will ever find mischief for idle hearts, as well as idle hands. David was made to feel this. Had he been at Rabbah, with his army, his eye would not have rested upon an object calculated to act upon the corrupt principle within; but the very act of tarrying at home afforded an opening for the enemy to come in upon him.
It is well to be ever on the watch, for we have a watchful enemy. "Be sober, be vigilant," says the apostle; "because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour." Satan watches his opportunity, and when he finds a soul unoccupied with his proper service, he will surely seek to involve him in evil. It is, therefore, safe and healthful to be diligently engaged in service—service flowing out of communion with God, for we are thus in an attitude of positive hostility to the enemy; but if we are not acting in hostility, he will use us as instruments for his own ends. When David failed in energy, as the captain of the hosts of Israel, he became the slave of lust. Sad picture! Solemn-most solemn warning for our souls!
The believer is the subject either of the energy of the Spirit, or the energy of the flesh; if he fails in the former, the latter will most assuredly predominate, and then he becomes an easy prey to the enemy. Thus it was with David. "At the time when kings go forth to battle," he was at rest in his house, and Satan presented a bait which proved too much for his poor heart. He fell—grievously, shamefully fell!
Nor was his fall now a mere mistake. No; he fell into a deep pit of moral evil, of vile corruption, and his fall utters the solemn admonition, "Keep under the body." Nature must be judged, or we shall make shipwreck.
And mark the fearful lengths to which David was carried in the commission of evil. Having sacrificed his character to indulge nature, he endeavors to make Uriah a cloak to screen him from the public eye. His reputation must be maintained at all cost. He tries kindness, but in vain; he makes the wronged and dishonored Uriah drunk, but to no purpose; at last, he murders him by the sword of the children of Ammon. How dreadful! Did David really think that all was right when Uriah was out of the way? Did he forget that the eyes of the Lord were resting upon him in his evil course? It would seem that his conscience was not tender on this occasion, nor at all as susceptible of conviction as we should expect. Had it been so, he would assuredly have faltered and hesitated ere he added the sin of murder to that of adultery—he would have winced under the sharp reproof of Uriah—only the sharper because perfectly unintentional—when he said, "The ark, and Israel, and. Judah, abide in tents; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord, are encamped in the open fields; shall I then go into mine house?" &c. What a rebuke to David! The Lord and His people were in the open fields, conflicting with the uncircumcised foes of Israel, but David was at home enjoying the ease and indulging the desires of nature. Surely, we may say, there was a time when David would not have been found reclining on his couch, when the hosts of the Lord were warring with the enemy—there was a time when he would not have exposed a faithful servant to the assault of the enemy, in order to save his own reputation. Such, however, is man—the best of men. When pride swells the heart, or lust dims the eye, who shall attempt to draw a limit to human depravity? Who shall define the fearful lengths to which even a David can go, when out of communion? Blessed forever be the God of all grace, who has ever proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children! Who but God could deal with even one saint for a single stage of his history? When we remember His perfect estimate of the odiousness of sin, His perfect grace toward the sinner must fill the soul with adoring gratitude.
The Lord must maintain His holiness, however He may deal with the sinner, and hence, in David's case, we find Him denouncing the most solemn judgment upon his house because of his sin. Nathan is sent to him in order to lead his conscience immediately into the presence of the holiness of God. This is the proper place for conscience to find itself. When not there, it will find various expedients, various subterfuges, various cloaks. David said, when told of the success of his diabolical scheme in reference to Uriah, "Thus shalt thou say to Joab, Let not this thing displease thee, for the sword devoureth one as well as another." Thus did he think to hush up the whole matter. He vainly imagined that, when Uriah was out of the way, all would be well. But, ah; there was an eye which could penetrate through all this covering which David's insensibility had cast over his heart and conscience. "The sword devoureth one as well as another," no doubt, and war has its vicissitudes; but this would not satisfy the holiness of God. No; the whole matter must be exposed—the dreadful meshes of evil in which Satan had entangled the feet of his victim must all be disentangled—the holiness of God's house must be maintained at all cost—His name and truth fully vindicated, and His servant scourged in the view of the whole congregation—yea, "in the sight of the sun." It might seem, in man's judgment, to be wiser to hide from public view the chastisement of one who stood so high, but such is not God's mode; He will prove to every spectator that He has no fellowship with evil, by the judgment which He executes in the midst of His people. Nothing could avail to wipe off the stain which had been cast upon the truth of God but the public judgment of the transgressor. The men of the world may go on for the present, and sin with a high hand; but those who stand in association with the name of the Lord, must keep themselves pure, or else be judged.
However, David would seem to have been most wonderfully insensible in this whole transaction. Even when Nathan's touching parable had set before him the blackness of his conduct, he, though roused to indignation at the selfish conduct of the rich man, never took it to himself. "And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die." Thus did he pronounce judgment upon himself unconsciously; he felt not his own sin as yet; perhaps he would have proceeded to find out and punish the offender, had not the prophet's word proved to be the very arrow of the Almighty to pierce his obtuse conscience. "Thou art the man." Tremendous discovery! The sin was traced to its source, and David stood as a conscience-smitten, broken-hearted sinner in the presence of God. There is no more effort to screen himself, or maintain his reputation. "I have sinned against the Lord," is the acknowledgment which flows forth from his wounded spirit. His soul was subdued by the power of the truth, and the 51st Psalm was his penitential utterance, as he lay prostrate in the dust, in the deep sense of his own personal vileness before the Lord. “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions." Here was David's well-known, oft-tried resource He brings his heavy burden and lays it down beside the loving-kindness and tender mercy of God—the only place in which his harassed spirit could find repose. He felt his sin to be so heinous that nothing but the mercy of God could avail to blot it out. There, however, he found a "vast abyss" which could "swallow up" all his evil, and give him profound peace in the view of his own wretchedness.
Nor was it merely to be forgiven his sins that David desired; this he needed, no doubt, but he needed more; he needed to be inwardly cleansed from the defiling power of sin itself. “Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." The apostle says," if we (i.e., believers) confess our sins, He is faithful and just (not merely) to forgive us our sins, (but also) to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." To be cleansed from unrighteousness is far higher than to be forgiven our sins, and David desired the latter as well as the former.
Both are made to depend on the confession of our sins. Now it is a much more difficult thing to confess our sin, than to ask for forgiveness. Really to confess before God the sin which we have committed, is a much more humbling thing than to ask for pardon in a general way. It is an easy thing to ask the Lord for pardon, but it is vain unless we confess our sins; and then, observe, it is a matter of simple faith to know that sins are forgiven us. The word is, "If we confess," &c.: David confessed his sin. “I acknowledge my transgressions; and my sin is ever before me.
Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest." This was true conviction. There was no attempt at palliation, no laying blame on circumstances, no looking at individuals. It is simply" I" and "thee;" I a sinner, and thou the God of truth. "Let God be true, and every man a liar." The secret of true restoration consists in taking our real place, as sinners, in the light of the truth of God. This is the apostle's teaching in the 3rd of Romans. The truth of God is there set up as the great standard by which man's condition is to be tested. The effect of this is to bring the sinner down to the very depths of his own being, to the very bottom, as it were, of his moral and practical condition in the sight of God; it strips him of everything, and lays his inmost soul bare before a holiness which will not tolerate the least speck of sin in its presence. But when thus brought down into the dust of self-abasement and genuine confession, what do we find? We find God, in the solitariness and sovereignty of His grace, working out a perfect righteousness for the guilty and silenced sinner.
Here we find truth and grace presented to us in this most important section of inspiration. Truth breaks the heart, grace binds it up; that stops the mouth, this opens it; stops it, that it may no longer boast of human merit; opens it, that it may show forth the praise and honor of the God of all grace.
David traveled, in spirit, through the truth afterward set forth in Rom. 3 He, too, was led down into the profound depths of his nature. "Behold,” he says, "I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me." Here he looks down to the very lowest point of depression. Man's original! What a thought! Shapen in sin. What good could ever flow from such a thing? Nothing. It is irrecoverable. And then observe the contrast: “Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts." God demands truth, and David had nothing wherewith to respond to his demand save a defiled original. What can fill up the vast chasm which exists between man born in sin, and God requiring truth in the inward parts? Nothing but the precious blood of Christ.
“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." In other words, David throws himself, as a helpless sinner, into the arms of redeeming love. Happy resting-place! God alone can purge a sinner, and make him fit for His own presence. "Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice." God must do all; purge his conscience, open his ear again to the notes of joy and gladness, open his mouth to tell transgressors of His ways of love and mercy, create a clean heart within him, restore him the joy of His salvation, uphold him by his free Spirit, deliver him from blood-guiltiness. In short, from the moment that Nathan's word fell with divine power upon David's heart, he cast the crushing weight of his burden upon infinite grace, exercised through the precious blood of atonement, and thus, so far as he was personally concerned, he could rejoice in a perfect settlement of the question which his sin had raised between his conscience and God. Grace gained a glorious triumph; and David retired from the field, scared, indeed, and sorely wounded, yet with a deepened experience of what God was, and what grace had done for his soul.
Still, David's sin produced its own bitter fruits in due time. This must ever be so. Nothing can interfere with the realization of that solemn word of the apostle, "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Grace may pardon the individual, but the results of sin will assuredly appear, even though the sinner may enjoy the deepest and sweetest experiences of divine love and restoring grace, while actually under the rod. We shall see this abundantly exemplified in David. He was, as we know, fully, blessedly, divinely pardoned, washed, and accepted; nevertheless, he had to hearken to the solemn denunciation, " Now, therefore, the sword shall never depart from thine house; because thou hast despised me, and hast taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be thy wife." Observe, "thou hast despised ME." David had sought to hide his sin from public view by putting Uriah out of the way, forgetting the all-seeing eye of Jehovah, and forgetting, too, the honor of His holy name. Had he remembered the Lord, at the moment when nature was causing her voice to be heard within, he would not have fallen into the snare.
The sense of God's presence is the great preservative from evil; but how often are we more influenced by the presence of our fellow-man, than we are by the presence of God. "I have set the Lord always before me; because He is on my right hand, I shall not be moved." If we fail to realize God's presence as a preservative against evil, we shall be made to feel it as a judgment because of it.
“The sword shall never depart from thine house." Contrast this with the glorious promises made to David in chap. vii., and yet it is the same voice that falls on the ear in the denunciation and in the promise, though in a tone so awfully different; in the latter, grace; in the former, holiness is heard." Because by this deed thou halt given great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, the child that is born unto thee shall surely die." The death of the child, however, was but the first sound of the tornado of judgment which was about to burst upon David's house. He might fast, pray, humble himself and lie prostrate in the dust, but the child must die; judgment must take its course, the consuming fire burn up every particle of the material submitted to its action. The sword of man" devours one as well as another;" but the sword of God falls on the head of the offender. Things must work and come to a head; the stream may flow, for a long time, underground, but sooner or later it will burst forth. We may go on for years in a course of secret evil, in the cultivation of some unholy principle, in the indulgence of some unholy lust, in the gratification of some unholy temper or feeling, but the smoldering flame must ultimately break forth, and show us the real character of our actings. This is a truly solemnizing reflection. We cannot hide things from God, nor cause Him to think that our wrong ways are all right. We may try to reason ourselves into such a thought; we may persuade our hearts by very plausible arguments that such and such things are right, and good, and lawful; but "God is not mocked: whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”
Yet what grace shines out in this, as in every scene of David's remarkable career. Bathsheba becomes the mother of Solomon, who occupied the throne of Israel during the most glorious period of their history, and who also stands in that privileged line through which, according to the flesh, Christ came! This is truly divine! It is altogether worthy of God. The darkest scene in David's life becomes, under the hand of God, the means of richest blessings. Thus did the eater yield meat, and the strong sweetness. We know how this principle characterizes all the ways of God with His people. He judges their evil, no doubt, but pardons their sin, and makes their very failures the channel through which grace flows to them.
Blessed, forever, be the God of all grace, who pardons our sins, restores our souls, bears with our many infirmities, and causes us to triumph, even through weakness!
How must David have felt ever after, as his eye rested upon his Solomon, "the man of rest,"—his Jedidiah, "the beloved of the Lord!" He would remember his own humiliating fall; he would remember God's adorable grace. And, my beloved Christian reader, is it not just thus with ourselves? What is our history day by day, but a history of falls and restorations, of ups and downs? Nothing more; and thank God for the assurance that "grace all the work shall crown, through everlasting days.”
At the close of this 12th chapter, we find David again in conflict with the enemy, his proper place. “And’ David gathered all the people together, and went to Rabbah, and fought against it and took it.
... And he brought forth the people that were therein, and put them under saws, and under harrows of iron, and under axes of iron, and made them pass through the brick-kiln; and thus did he to all the cities of the children of Ammon. So David and all the people returned to Jerusalem.”
And now begins the heavy tale of David's woes, the fulfillment of the prophet's denunciation, that the sword should never depart from his house. Chapter 13 records two of the most diabolical acts that ever stained a family circle. Amnon, the son of David, offers dishonor to the sister of Absalom, and Absalom murders Amnon, and then flees to Geshur, where he remains three years. David allows him to return, contrary to the positive command of the law. Even had he been but a manslayer, he should have remained in a city of refuge; but he was a murderer, turd, with his murder upon him, he is received back again upon natural grounds—no confession, no judgment, no atonement. "The king kissed Absalom." Yes, the king kissed the murderer, instead of allowing the law of the God of Israel to take its course. What then?
“It came to pass after this, that Absalom prepared chariots and horses, and fifty men to run before him.”
This was the next step. David's inordinate tenderness only paved the way for Absalom's open rebellion. Terrible warning! Deal tenderly with evil, and it will, assuredly, rise to a head, and crush you in the end. On the other hand, meet evil with a face of flint, and your victory is sure. Sport not with the serpent, but at once crush it beneath your foot. Plain, unflinching decision is, after all, the safest and happiest path. It may be trying at first, but the end is peaceful.
But observe how Absalom works. He begins by creating a want in the hearts of the men of Israel. "And Absalom rose up early, and stood beside the way of the gate: and it was so, that when any man that had a controversy came to the king for judgment, then Absalom called unto him, and said, Of what city art thou?... See thy matters are good and right; but there is no man deputed of the king to hear thee. Absalom said, moreover, Oh, that I were made judge in the land, that every man which hath any suit or cause might come unto me, and I would do him justice. And it was so that when any man came nigh to him to do him obeisance, he put forth his hand, and took him and kissed him.... So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel." The enemy's way is first to create a want, to produce a blank, and then proceed to fill it up with something, or someone, of his own providing. Those whose hearts were fully satisfied with David had no room for Absalom.
This is a fine principle when applied to our hearts in reference to Christ. If we are filled with Him we have no room for aught beside. It is only when Satan succeeds in creating a want in our hearts that he introduces something of his own. When we are able in truth to say, "The Lord is my portion," we are safe from the influence of Satan's attractive baits.
The Lord keep us in the happy and holy enjoyment of Himself, that so we may be able to say with one of old, "I try to lay up all my good things in Christ, and then a little of the creature goes a great way.”
However, Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel. He came in by flatteries, and usurped David's place in their hearts and affections. He was a comely person, well adapted to captivate the multitude. "In all Israel there was none to be so much praised as Absalom for his beauty: from the sole of his foot even to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him." But his beauty and his flattery had no effect upon those who were near the person of David. When the messenger came, saying, "The hearts of the men of Israel are after Absalom," it, became manifest who were for David. "And David said unto all his servants that were with him at Jerusalem, Arise, and let us flee.... And the king's servants said unto the king, Behold, thy servants are ready to do whatsoever my lord the king shall appoint.... And the king went forth, and all the people after him, and tarried in a place that was far off. And all his servants passed on beside him, and all the Cherethites, and all the Pelethites, and all the Gittites, six hundred men which came after him from Gath, passed on before the king.... And all the country wept with a loud voice, and all the people passed over; the king also himself passed over the brook Kidron, and all the people passed over, toward the way of the wilderness." Thus were there many hearts who loved David too well to be drawn away by the ensnaring influence of Absalom. Those who had been with David in the days of his exile were near his beloved person in this day of his deep sorrow. "And David went up by the ascent of Mount Olivet, and wept as he went up, and had his head covered; and he went barefoot; and all the people that were with him covered every man his head, and they went up, weeping as they went up." This is a deeply touching and interesting scene. In fact, David's grace shines out more during this conspiracy than at any period of his life. And not only does David's grace appear in a striking point of view, but the genuine devotedness of his dear people also. When we behold a loving band of followers thronging round the weeping, the barefooted David, our hearts are far more deeply touched than when we see them thronging round his throne. We are more thoroughly convinced that his person, and not his office, was the center of attraction. David had nothing to offer his followers now save fellowship in his rejection; yet was there a charm about him, to those who knew his person, that bound them to him at all times. They could weep with him, as well as conquer with him. Hear the language of a genuine lover of David: "And Ittai answered the king, and said, As the Lord liveth, and as my lord the king liveth, surely in what place my lord the king shall be, whether in death or life, even there also will thy servant be." Life or death; it was all alike, in companionship with David.
However, in looking through these chapters, there is nothing that so strikes us as David's beautiful subjection of spirit. When Zadok would bring the ark in his weeping train, he says, " Carry back the ark of God into the city; if I shall find favor in the eyes of the Lord, He will bring me again, and show me both it, and His habitation; but if He thus say, I have no delight in thee, behold, here am I, let Him do to me as seemeth good unto Him.”
When the insulting Benjamite, Shimei, came forth to curse and cast stones at him, and Abishai desired permission to take off his head, his answer is, "What have I to do with you, ye sons of Zeruiah? So let him curse, because the Lord hath said unto him, Curse David. Who shall then say, Wherefore halt thou done so?" In short, he meekly bows his head to the dispensation of God. He felt, no doubt, that he was only reaping the fruit of his sin, and he accepted it. He saw God in every circumstance, and owned Him with a subdued and reverent spirit. To him it was not Shimei, but the Lord. Abishai saw only the man, and desired to deal with him accordingly. Like Peter afterward, when he sought to defend his beloved Master from the band of murderers sent to arrest Him. Both Peter and Abishai were living upon the surface, and looking at secondary causes. The Lord Jesus was living in the most profound subjection to the Father. "The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" This gave Him power over everything. He looked beyond the instrument to God—beyond the cup to the hand which had filled it. It mattered not whether it were Judas, Herod, Caiaphas, or Pilate; He could say, in all, "my Father's cup.”
Thus, too, was David, in his measure, lifted above subordinate agents. He looked right up to God, and with unshod feet, and covered head, he bowed before Him. "The Lord hath said unto him, Curse David." This was enough.
Now, there are, perhaps, few things in which we so much fail as in apprehending the presence of God, and His dealing with our souls, in every circumstance of daily life. We are constantly ensnared by looking at secondary causes; we do not realize God in everything. Hence Satan gets the victory over us. Were we more alive to the fact that there is not an event which happens to us, from morning to night, in which the voice of God may not be beard, the hand of God seen, with what a holy atmosphere would it surround us! Men and things would then be received as so many agents and instruments in our Father's hand; so many ingredients in our Father's cup. Thus would our minds be solemnized, our spirits calmed, our hearts subdued. Then we shall not say, with Abishai, “Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? let me go over, I pray thee, and take off his head." Nor shall we, with Peter, draw the sword in natural excitement! How far below their respective masters were both these affectionate though mistaken men! How must the sound of Peter's sword have grated on his Master's ear, and offended His spirit! And how must Abishai's words have wounded the meek and submitting David! Could David defend himself, while God was dealing with his soul in a manner so solemn and impressive? Surely not. He dare not take himself out of the hands of the Lord. He was His for life or death-as a king or an exile. Blessed subjection!
But, as has been already remarked, the record of this conspiracy not only exhibits David's subjection to God, but also the devotedness of David's friends to his person, whether mistaken or otherwise. His mighty men are seen thronging round him on his right hand and his left, and sharing with him the insults and execrations of Shimei. They had been with him in the hold, with him on the throne, with him in the field, and they are now with him in his humiliation.
Shobi and Barzillai come forth to minister to him' and his men with princely liberality. In short, the thoughts of many hearts were revealed in the season of David's sorrow. It was manifest who loved David for his own sake; and, no doubt, he returned to his house and his throne with a fuller and deeper confidence in the genuine affection of those around him.
There is, however, one character introduced to our notice, upon which we must dwell for a little. I allude to Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan.
Hardly had David taken his seat on the throne, when he gave utterance to those memorably gracious words, "Is there yet any that is left of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God unto him?" "The house of Saul!" "The kindness of God!" What words! Saul had been his most implacable enemy; yet, being now on the throne, the brilliancy of his position, and the fullness of Divine grace, enabled him to sink in oblivion the acts of the past, and to manifest, not merely the kindness of David, but the kindness of God.
Now, the kindness of God is marked by this special characteristic, that it is exercised toward His enemies. "If, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son," &c. Such was the kindness which David desired to show to a member of the house of Saul. "Now, when Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, was come unto David, he fell on his face, and did reverence.... And David said unto him, Fear not, for I will surely show thee kindness... and thou shalt eat bread at my table continually. And he bowed himself, and said, What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look on such a dead dog as I am?" Here, then, is a lovely specimen of the kindness of God, and here, too, we are presented with the ground of Mephibosheth's devotedness to David. Though having no more claim upon him than an enemy, or a dead dog, yet is he taken up in grace, and set down at the king's table.
But Mephibosheth had a faithless servant, who, to promote his own ends, misrepresented him to the king. The opening verses of chapter 16 will furnish the reader with an account of Ziba's actings. He pretends kindness to David, and blackens the character of Mephibosheth, in order to get possession of his land, He takes advantage of his master's weakness of body, deceives and maligns him. What a picture!
The truth, however, came to light, and the wronged one was fully vindicated. On David's return, when all the trouble was over, and Absalom perished from the scene, "Mephibosheth, the son of Saul, came down to meet the king, and had neither dressed his feet, nor trimmed his beard, nor washed his clothes, from the day the king departed until he came again in peace." Such is the Spirit's testimony to this interesting character. The absence of his beloved master deprived him of every motive to adorn his person. While David was away, Mephibosheth was a mourner: true picture of what the saint ought to be now, during the period of his Master's absence. Fellowship with an absent Lord should impart a tone of thorough separation to the Christian character. The question is not at all what a Christian may, or may not do. No; an affectionate heart will suggest the true course to be adopted by all those who are looking for the king's return. What a truly divine spring of action does the absence of Jesus furnish! "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above." Ask the spiritual man, why does he abstain from things which he might enjoy? His answer is Jesus is absent. This is the highest motive. We do not want the rules of a cold and barren formalism to regulate our ways; but we want a more fervent affection for the Person of Christ, and a more lively desire for His speedy return. We, like Mephibosheth, have experienced the kindness of God—precious kindness! We have been taken up from the depths of our ruin, and set among the princes of God's people. Should we not, therefore, love our Master? should we not desire to see His face? should we not regulate our present conduct by constant reference to Him? Would that our hearts were able to yield a ready answer in the affirmative. But, alas! here we fail. We are little like Mephibosheth—we are but too well disposed to pamper, decorate, and minister to our odious nature—too ready to walk in the unchecked enjoyment of the things of this life—its riches, its honors, its comforts, its refinements, its elegancies, and the more so because we imagine we can do all these things without forfeiting our title to the name and privileges of Christians. Vain, detestable selfishness! Selfishness, which shall be put to the blush in the day of Christ's appearing.
Had Ziba's account of Mephibosheth been true, how could the latter have replied to David when he said, "Wherefore wentest thou not with me, Mephibosheth?" But he was able to answer, "My lord, 0 king, my servant deceived me; for thy servant said, I will saddle me an ass, that I may ride thereon, and go to the king; because thy servant is lame. And he hath slandered thy servant unto my lord the king; but my lord the king is as an angel of God; do, therefore, what is good in thine eyes. For all of my father's house were but dead men before my lord the king; yet didst thou set thy servant among them that did eat at thine own table. What right, therefore, have I yet to cry any more unto the king?" Here was simple integrity of heart. Unaffected devotedness must develop itself. The contrast between Ziba and Mephibosheth is truly striking. The former was seeking for the inheritance; the latter only desired to be near the king. Hence, when David said, "Why speakest thou any more of thy matters? I have said, thou and Ziba divide, the land," Mephibosheth at once proved the direction in which his thoughts and desires were flowing; "Yea," said he, "let him take all, forasmuch as my lord the king is come again in peace unto his own house." His heart WAR engaged about David, not about the "matters.”
How could he stand on a footing with Ziba? How could he divide the land with such an one? Impossible! The king had returned; this was enough for him. To be near to him was better far than all the inheritance of the house of Saul. "Let him take all." Nearness to the person of the king so filled, so satisfied the heart of Mephibosheth, that he could, without any difficulty, give up all that for which Ziba had so diligently acted the deceiver and the slanderer.
Just so will it be with those who love the name and Person of the Son of God. The prospect of His loved appearing will deaden their affections for the things of this world. With them it will not be a question of lawfulness or unlawfulness: such terms are far too cold for an affectionate heart. The very fact of their looking out for the morning, will, of necessity, turn their hearts away from all beside; just as gazing intently at any special object necessarily turns one away from everything else. If Christians realized more the power of the blessed hope, how would they walk above and apart from the world? The enemy is well aware of this, and hence he has labored hard to reduce this hope to the level of a mere speculation-a peculiar tenet, possessing little or no practical power, no solid or indisputable basis.
That section of inspiration, too, which specially unfolds the events connected with the coming of Christ, he has succeeded in involving in almost total neglect. The book of Revelation has, until very recently, been regarded as a book of such profound and inextricable mystery, that few, if any, could approach it. And even since the attention of Christians has been more particularly directed to its study, he has introduced and built up such conflicting systems-has set forward such jarring interpretations, that simple minds are well-nigh scared away from a subject which seems, in their judgment, to be inseparably connected with mysticism and confusion.
Now there is just one grand remedy for all this evil, viz., a genuine love of the appearing of Jesus. Those who are waiting for that will not dispute much about the mode of it. Indeed, we may set it down as a fixed principle, that in proportion as affection becomes dead, will the spirit of controversy prevail.
All this is very simply and very strikingly illustrated in the narrative of Mephibosheth. He felt that he owed everything to David; that he had been saved from ruin, and raised to dignity. Hence, when David's place was occupied by a usurper, Mephibosheth's whole appearance and manner proved that he had no sympathy with the existing state of things; he was estranged from it all, and only sighed for the return of him whose kindness had made him all he was. His interests, his destinies, his hopes, were all bound up with David, and nothing but his return could make him happy.
Oh! that it were thus with us, my beloved Christian reader. Would that we really entered more into our true character, as strangers and pilgrims, in the midst of a scene where Satan rules. The time is coming when our beloved King shall be brought back, amid the affectionate acclamations of His people, when the usurper shall be hurled from his throne, and every enemy crushed beneath the footstool of our glorious Immanuel. The Absaloms, the Ahithophels, the Shimeis, shall find their proper place; and, on the other hand, all who, like Mephibosheth, have mourned the absent David, shall have all the desires of their longing hearts abundantly satisfied. "How long, O Lord?" May this be our cry, as we eagerly look for the earliest sound of His chariot wheels. The way is long, rough, and painful; the night dark and depressing; but the word is, "Be patient, brethren." "He that shall come will come, and will not tarry. Now the just shall live by faith; but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.”
Into the further details of Absalom's conspiracy I do not now mean to enter. He met the end his deeds merited, though a father's heart might grieve and a father's tears flow for him. Moreover, his history may justly be viewed as a type of that great prophetic character, 'who, as Daniel informs us, "shall obtain the kingdom by flatteries." This, however, and many other points full of interest, I shall leave the reader to deduce from the sacred text for himself, praying the Lord to make the study of His own word refreshing and edifying, in this day of darkness and confusion.
Never was there a time when Christians needed more to give themselves to the prayerful study of Scripture.
Conflicting opinions and judgments, strange notions and baseless theories are abroad, and the simple mind knows not whither to turn. Blessed be God, His word is before us in all its lucid simplicity, and in it we have the eternal fountain of truth, the immutable standard by which everything must be judged; all, therefore, that we need is a mind fully subject to its teaching. "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.”