_DAVID AND MEPHIBOSHETH._
2 SAMUEL ix.
The busy life which King David was now leading did not prevent memory
from occasionally running back to his early days and bringing before
him the friends of his youth. Among these remembrances of the past,
his friendship and his covenant with Jonathan were sure to hold a
conspicuous place. On one of these occasions the thought occurred
to him that possibly some descendant of Jonathan might still be
living. He had been so completely severed from his friend during
the last years of his life, and the unfortunate attempt on the part
of Ishbosheth had made personal intercourse so much more difficult,
that he seems not to have been aware of the exact state of Jonathan's
family. It is evident that the survival of any descendant of his
friend was not publicly known, and probably the friends of the youth
who was discovered had thought it best to keep his existence quiet,
being of those who would give David no credit for higher principles
than were current between rival dynasties. Even Michal, Jonathan's
sister, does not seem to have known that a son of his survived. It
became necessary, therefore, to make a public inquiry of his officers
and attendants. "Is there yet any that is left of the house of
Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" It was not
essential that he should be a child of Jonathan's; any descendant of
Saul's would have been taken for Jonathan's sake.
It is a proof that the bloody wars in which he had been engaged had
not destroyed the tenderness of his heart, that the very chapter
which follows the account of his battles opens with a yearning of
affection--a longing for an outlet to feelings of kindness. It
is instructive, too, to find the proof of love to his neighbour
succeeding the remarkable evidence of supreme regard to the honour of
God recently given in the proposal to build a temple. This period of
David's life was its golden era, and it is difficult to understand
how the man that was so remarkable at this time for his regard
for God and his interest in his neighbour should soon afterwards
have been betrayed into a course of conduct that showed him most
grievously forgetful of both.
This proceeding of David's in making inquiry for a fit object of
beneficence may afford us a lesson as to the true course of enlightened
kindness. Doubtless David had numberless persons applying for a share
of his bounty; yet he makes inquiry for a new channel in which it may
flow. The most clamorous persons are seldom the most deserving, and if
a bountiful man simply recognises, however generously, even the best of
the cases that press themselves on his notice, he will not be satisfied
with the result; he will feel that his bounty has rather been frittered
away on miscellaneous undertakings, than that it has achieved any solid
and satisfying result. It is easy for a rich man to fling a pittance to
some wretched-looking creature that whines out a tale of horror in his
ear; but this may be done only to relieve his own feelings, and harm
instead of good may be the result. Enlightened benevolence aims at
something higher than the mere relief of passing distress. Benevolent
men ought not to lie at the mercy either of the poor who ask their
charity, or of the philanthropic Christians who appeal for support to
their schemes. Pains must be taken to find out the deserving, to find
out those who have the strongest claim. Even the open-handed, whose
purse is always at hand, and who are ready for every good work, may be
neglecting some case or class of cases which have far stronger claims
on them than those which are so assiduously pressed on their notice.
And hence we may see that it is right and fitting, especially in
those to whom Providence has given much, to cast over in their minds,
from time to time, the state of their obligations, and think whether
among old friends, or poor relations, or faithful but needy servants
of God, there may not be some who have a claim on their bounty. There
are other debts besides money debts it becomes you to look after. In
youth, perhaps, you received much kindness from friends and relatives
which at the time you could not repay; but now the tables are turned;
you are prosperous, they or their families are needy. And these cases
are apt to slip out of mind. It is not always hard-heartedness that
makes the prosperous forget the less fortunate; it is often utter
thoughtlessness. It is the neglect of that rule which has such a
powerful though silent effect when it is carried out--Put yourself
in their place. Imagine how you would feel, strained and worried to
sleeplessness through narrow means, and seeing old friends rolling
in wealth, who might, with little or no inconvenience, lighten the
burden that is crushing you so painfully. It is a strange thing that
this counsel should be more needed by the rich than by the poor.
Thoughtlessness regarding his neighbours is not a poor man's vice.
The empty house is remembered, even though it costs a sacrifice to
send it a little of his own scanty supplies. Few men are so hardened
as not to feel the obligation to show kindness when that obligation
is brought before them. What we urge is, that no one should lie at
the mercy of others for bringing his obligations before him. Let him
think for himself; and especially let him cast his eye round his own
horizon, and consider whether there be not some representatives of
old friends or old relations to whom kindness ought to be shown.
To return to the narrative. The history of Mephibosheth, Jonathan's
son, had been a sad one. When Israel was defeated by the Philistines
on Mount Gilboa, and Saul and Jonathan were slain, he was but an
infant; and his nurse, terror-stricken at the news of the disaster,
in her haste to escape had let him fall, and caused an injury which
made him lame for life. What the manner of his upbringing was, we
are not told. When David found him, he was living with Machir, the
son of Ammiel, of Lo-debar, on the other side of the Jordan, in
the same region where his uncle Ishbosheth had tried to set up his
kingdom. Mephibosheth became known to David through Ziba, a servant
of Saul's, a man of more substance than principle, as his conduct
showed at a later period of his life. Ziba, we are told, had fifteen
sons and twenty servants. He seems to have contrived to make himself
comfortable notwithstanding the wreck of his master's fortunes, more
comfortable than Mephibosheth, who was living in another man's house.
There seems to have been a surmise among David's people that this
Ziba could tell something of Jonathan's family; but evidently he
was not very ready to do so; for it was only to David himself that
when sent for he gave the information, and that after David had
emphatically stated his motive--not to do harm, but to show kindness
for Jonathan's sake. The existence of Mephibosheth being thus made
known, he is sent for and brought into David's presence. And we
cannot but be sorry for him when we mark his abject bearing in the
presence of the king. When he was come unto David, "he fell on his
face and did reverence." And when David explained his intentions,
"he bowed himself and said, What is thy servant, that thou shouldest
look on such a dead dog as I am?" Naturally of a timid nature, and
weakened in nerve by the accident of his infancy, he must have grown
up under great disadvantages. His lameness excluded him from sharing
in any youthful game or manly exercise, and therefore threw him
into the company of the women who, like him, tarried at home. What
he had heard of David had not come through a friendly channel, had
come through the partisans of Saul, and was not likely to be very
favourable. He was too young to remember the generous conduct of
David in reference to his father and grandfather; and those who were
about him probably did not care to say much about it.
Accustomed to think that his wisest course was to conceal from David
his very existence, and looking on him with the dread with which
the family of former kings regarded the reigning monarch, he must
have come into his presence with a strange mixture of feeling. He
had a profound sense of the greatness which David had achieved and
the honour implied in his countenance and fellowship. But there was
no need for his humbling himself so low. There was no need for his
calling himself a dog, a dead dog,--the most humiliating image it
was possible to find. We should have thought him more worthy of his
father if, recognizing the high position which David had attained
by the grace of God, he had gracefully thanked him for the regard
shown to his father's memory, and shown more of the self-respect
which was due to Jonathan's son. In his subsequent conduct, in the
days of David's calamity, Mephibosheth gave evidence of the same
disinterested spirit which had shone so beautifully in Jonathan, but
his noble qualities were like a light twinkling among ruins or a
jewel glistening in a wreck.
This shattered condition both of mind and body, however, commended
him all the more to the friendly regard of David. Had he shown
himself a high-minded, ambitious youth, David might have been
embarrassed how to act towards him. Finding him modest and
respectful, he had no difficulty in the case. The kindness which he
showed him was twofold. In the first place, he restored to him all
the land that had belonged to his grandfather; and in the second
place, he made him an inmate of his own house, with a place at his
table, the same as if he had been one of his own sons. And that
he might not be embarrassed with having the land to care for, he
committed the charge of it to Ziba, who was to bring to Mephibosheth
the produce or its value.
Every arrangement was thus made that could conduce to his comfort
His being a cripple did not deprive him of the honour of a place
at the royal table, little though he could contribute to the
lustre of the palace. For David bestowed his favours not on the
principle of trying to reflect lustre on himself or his house, but
on the principle of doing good to those who had a claim on his
consideration. The lameness and consequent awkwardness, that would
have made many a king ashamed of such an inmate of his palace only
recommended him the more to David. Regard for outward appearances was
swallowed up by a higher regard--regard for what was right and true.
It might be thought by some that such an incident as this was hardly
worthy of a place in the sacred record; but the truth is, that David
seldom showed more of the true spirit of God than he did on this
occasion. The feeling that led him to seek out any stray member of the
house in order to show kindness to him was the counterpart of that
feeling that has led God from the very beginning to seek the children
of men, and that led Jesus to seek and to save that which was lost.
For that is truly the attitude in which God has ever placed Himself
towards our fallen race. The sight to be seen in this world has not
been that of men seeking after God, but that of God seeking after men.
All day long He has been stretching forth His hands, and inviting the
children of men to taste and see that He is gracious. If we ask for
the principle that unifies all parts of the Bible, it is this gracious
attitude of God towards those who have forfeited His favour. The Bible
presents to us the sight of God's Spirit striving with men, persevering
in the thankless work long after He has been resisted, and ceasing only
when all hope of success through further pleading is gone.
There were times when this process was prosecuted with more than
common ardour; and at last there came a time when the Divine
pleadings reached a climax, and God, who at sundry times and in
divers manners spake to the fathers by the prophets, spake to them
at last by His own Son. And what was the life of Jesus Christ but
a constant appeal to men, in God's name, to accept the kindness
which God was eager to show them? Was not His invitation to all that
laboured and were heavy laden, "Come unto Me, and I will give you
rest"? Did He not represent the Father as a householder, making a
marriage feast for his son, sending forth his servants to bid the
guests to the wedding, and when the natural guests refused, bidding
them go to the highways and the hedges, and fetch the lame and the
blind and any outcast they could find, because he longed to see
guests of some kind enjoying the good things he had provided? The
great crime of the ancient Jews was rejecting Him who had come in
the name of the Lord to bless them. Their crowning condemnation was,
not that they had failed to keep the Ten Commandments, though that
was true; not that they had spent their lives in pleasing themselves
instead of pleasing God, though that also was true; but that they
had rejected God's unspeakable gift, and requited the Eternal Son,
when He came from heaven to bless them, with the cursed death of the
cross. But even after they had committed that act of unprecedented
wickedness, God's face would not be wholly turned away from them. The
very attitude in which Jesus died, with His hands outstretched on the
tree, would still represent the attitude of the Divine heart towards
the very murderers of His Son. "I, if I be lifted up, will draw all
men toward Me." "Unto you first, God, having raised up His Son Jesus,
hath sent Him to bless you, in turning away every one of you from his
iniquities." "Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins
may be blotted out."
Here, my friends, is the most glorious feature of the Christian
religion. Happy those of you who have apprehended this attitude of
your most gracious Father, who have believed in His love, and who
have accepted His grace! For not only has God received you back into
His family, and given you a name and a place in His temple better
than that of sons and daughters, but He has restored to you your lost
inheritance. "If children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs
with Jesus Christ." Nay, more, He has not only restored to you your
lost inheritance, but He has conferred on you an inheritance more
glorious than that of which sin deprived you. "Blessed be the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy
hath begotten us again unto a lively hope through the resurrection
of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, and
undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who
are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation, ready to
be revealed in the last day."
But if the grace of God in thus stretching out His hands to sinful
men and offering them all the blessings of salvation is very
wonderful, it makes the case of those all the more terrible, all
the more hopeless, who treat His invitations with indifference, and
turn their backs on an inheritance the glory of which they do not
see. How men should be so infatuated as to do this it were hard
to understand, if we had not ample evidence of it in the godless
tendencies of our natural hearts. Still more mysterious is it to
understand how God should fail to carry His point in the case of
those to whom He stretches out His hands. But of all considerations
there is none more fitted to astonish and alarm the careless than
that they are capable of refusing all the appeals of Divine love,
and rejecting all the bounty of Divine grace. If this be persevered
in, what a rude awakening you will have in the world to come, when
in all the bitterness of remorse you will think on the glories that
were once within your reach, but with which you trifled when you
had the chance! How foolish would Mephibosheth have been if he had
disbelieved in David's kindness and rejected his offer! But David was
sincere, and Mephibosheth believed in his sincerity. May we not, must
we not, believe that God is sincere? If a purpose of kindness could
arise in a human heart, how much more in the Divine heart, how much
more in the heart of Him the very essence of whose nature is conveyed
to us in the words of the beloved disciple--"God is love"!
There is yet another application to be made of this passage in
David's history. We have seen how it exemplifies the duty incumbent
on us all to consider whether kindness is not due from us to the
friends or the relatives of those who have been helpful to ourselves.
This remark is not applicable merely to temporal obligations, but
also, and indeed emphatically, to spiritual. We should consider
ourselves in debt to those who have conferred spiritual benefits upon
us. Should a descendant of Luther or Calvin, of Latimer or Cranmer
or Knox, appear among us in need of kindness, what true Protestant
would not feel that for what he owed to the fathers it was his duty
to show kindness to the children? But farther back even than this was
a race of men to whom the Christian world lies under still deeper
obligations. It was the race of David himself, to which had belonged
"Moses and Aaron among His priests, Samuel with them that called
on His name," and, in after-times, Isaiah and Jeremiah, Ezekiel
and Daniel; Peter, and James, and John, and Paul; and, outshining
them all, like the sun of heaven, Jesus of Nazareth, the Saviour of
men. With what models of lofty piety has that race furnished every
succeeding generation! From the study of their holy lives, their
soaring faith, their burning zeal, what blessing has been derived in
the past, and what an impulse will yet go forth to the very end of
time! No wonder though the Apostle had great sorrow and continual
heaviness in his heart when he thought of the faithless state of
the people, "to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and
the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God"!
Yet none are more in need of your friendly remembrance at this day
than the descendants of these men. It becomes you to ask, "Is there
yet any that is left of their house to whom we may show kindness
for Jesus' sake?" For God has not finally cast them off, and Jesus
has not ceased to care for those who were His brethren according
to the flesh. If there were no other motive to induce us to seek
the good of the Jews, this consideration should surely prevail.
Ill did the world requite its obligation during the long ages when
all manner of contumely and injustice was heaped upon the Hebrew
race, as if Jesus had never prayed, "Father, forgive them; they
know not what they do." Their treatment by the Gentiles has been so
harsh that, even when better feelings prevail, they are slow, like
Mephibosheth,--to believe that we mean them well. They may have done
much to repel our kindness, and they may appear to be hopelessly
encrusted with unbelief in Him whom we present as the Saviour. But
charity never faileth; and in reference to them as to other objects
of philanthropic effort, the exhortation holds good, "Let us not be
weary in well-doing; for in due season we shall reap if we faint not."
Such kindness to those who are in need is not only a duty of religion,
but tends greatly to commend it. Neglect of those who have claims on
us, while objects more directly religious are eagerly prosecuted, is
not pleasing to God, whether the neglect take place in our lives or in
the destination of our substance at death. "Give, and it shall be given
unto you: good measure, pressed down and shaken together and running
over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye
mete withal, it shall be measured to you again."