CHAPTER XXVI.

_DAVID AND BARZILLAI._

2 SAMUEL xix. 31-40.

It is very refreshing to fall in with a man like Barzillai in a

record which is so full of wickedness, and without many features of

a redeeming character. He is a sample of humanity at its best--one

of those men who diffuse radiance and happiness wherever their

influence extends. Long before St. Peter wrote his epistle, he had

been taught by the one Master to "put away all wickedness, and all

guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and evil-speakings;" and he had

adopted St. Paul's rule for rich men, "that they do good, that they

be rich in good works, that they be ready to distribute, willing to

communicate." We cannot well conceive a greater contrast than that

between Barzillai and another rich farmer with whom David came in

contact at an earlier period of his life--Nabal of Carmel: the one

niggardly, beggarly, and bitter, not able even to acknowledge an

obligation, far less to devise anything liberal, adding insult to

injury when David modestly stated his claim, humiliating him before

his messengers, and meeting his request with a flat refusal of

everything great or small; the other hastening from his home when

he heard of David's distress, carrying with him whatever he could

give for the use of the king and his followers, continuing to send

supplies while he was at Mahanaim, and now returning to meet him on

his way to Jerusalem, conduct him over Jordan, and show his loyalty

and goodwill in every available way. While we grieve that there are

still so many Nabals let us bless God that there are Barzillais too.

Of Barzillai's previous history we know nothing. We do not even know

where Rogelim, his place of abode, was, except that it was among the

mountains of Gilead. The facts stated regarding him are few, but

suggestive.

1. He was "a very great man." The expression seems to imply that he

was both rich and influential. Dwelling among the hills of Gilead,

his only occupation, and main way of becoming rich, must have been

as a farmer. The two and a half tribes that settled on the east of

the Jordan, while they had a smaller share of national and spiritual

privileges, were probably better provided in a temporal sense. That

part of the country was richer in pasturage, and therefore better

adapted for cattle. It is probable, too, that the allotments were

much larger. The kingdoms of Sihon and Og, especially the latter,

were of wide extent. If the two and a half tribes had been able

thoroughly to subdue the original inhabitants, they would have had

possessions of great extent and value. Barzillai's ancestors had

probably received a valuable and extensive allotment, and had been

strong enough and courageous enough to keep it for themselves.

Consequently, when their flocks and herds multiplied, they were

not restrained within narrow dimensions, but could spread over the

mountains round about. But however his riches may have been acquired,

Barzillai was evidently a man of very large means. He was rich

apparently both in flocks and servants, a kind of chief or sheikh,

not only with a large establishment of his own, but enjoying the

respect, and in some degree able to command the services, of many of

the humble people around him.

2. His generosity was equal to his wealth. The catalogue of the

articles which he and another friend of David's brought him in his

extremity (2 Sam. xvii. 28, 29) is instructive from its minuteness

and its length. Like all men liberal in heart, he devised liberal

things. He did not ask to see a subscription list, or inquire what

other people were giving. He did not consider what was the smallest

amount that he could give without appearing to be shabby. His only

thought seems to have been, what there was he had to give that could

be of use to the king. It is this large inborn generosity manifested

to David that gives one the assurance that he was a kind, generous

helper wherever there was a case deserving and needing his aid. We

class him with the patriarch of Uz, with whom no doubt he could have

said, "When the eye saw me, then it blessed me, and when the ear

heard me, it bare witness unto me; the blessing of him that was ready

to perish came upon me, and I made the widow's heart to leap for joy."

3. His loyalty was not less thorough than his generosity. When he

heard of the king's troubles, he seems never to have hesitated one

instant as to throwing in his lot with him. It mattered not that

the king was in great trouble, and apparently in a desperate case.

Neighbours, or even members of his own family, might have whispered

to him that it would be better not to commit himself, seeing the

rebellion was so strong. He was living in a sequestered part of

the country; there was no call on him to declare himself at that

particular moment; and if Absalom got the upper hand, he would be

sure to punish severely those who had been active on his father's

side. But none of these things moved him. Barzillai was no sunshine

courtier, willing to enjoy the good things of the court in days

of prosperity, but ready in darker days to run off and leave his

friends in the midst of danger. He was one of those true men that

are ready to risk their all in the cause of loyalty when persuaded

that it is the cause of truth and right. We cannot but ask, What

could have given him a feeling so strong? We are not expressly told

that he was a man deeply moved by the fear of God, but we have every

reason to believe it. If so, the consideration that would move him

most forcibly in favour of David must have been that he was God's

anointed. God had called him to the throne, and had never declared,

as in the case of Saul, that he had forfeited it; the attempt to

drive him from it was of the devil, and therefore to be resisted to

the last farthing of his property, and if he had been a younger man,

to the last drop of his blood. Risk? Can you frighten a man like

this by telling him of the risk he runs by supporting David in the

hour of adversity? Why, he is ready not only to risk all, but to

lose all, if necessary, in a cause which appears so obviously to be

Divine, all the more because he sees so well what a blessing David

has been to the country. Why, he has actually made the kingdom. Not

only has he expelled all its internal foes, but he has cowed those

troublesome neighbours that were constantly pouncing upon the tribes,

and especially the tribes situated in Gilead and Bashan. Moreover,

he has given unity and stability to all the internal arrangements

of the kingdom. See what a grand capital he has made for it at

Jerusalem. Look how he has planted the ark on the strongest citadel

of the country, safe from every invading foe. Consider how he has

perfected the arrangements for the service of the Levites, what a

delightful service of song he has instituted, and what beautiful

songs he has composed for the use of the sanctuary. Doubtless it was

considerations of this kind that roused Barzillai to such a pitch

of loyalty. And is not a country happy that has such citizens, men

who place their personal interest far below the public weal, and

are ready to make any sacrifice, of person or of property, when the

highest interests of their country are concerned? We do not plead

for the kind of loyalty that clings to a monarch simply because he

is king, apart from all considerations, personal and public, bearing

on his worthiness or unworthiness of the office. We plead rather for

the spirit that makes duty to country stand first, and personal or

family interest a long way below. We deprecate the spirit that sneers

at the very idea of putting one's self to loss or trouble of any kind

for the sake of public interests. We long for a generation of men and

women that, like many in this country in former days, are willing to

give "all for the Church and a little less for the State." And surely

in these days, when no deadly risk is incurred, the demand is not so

very severe. Let Christian men lay it on their consciences to pay

regard to the claims under which they lie to serve their country.

Whether it be in the way of serving on some public board, or fighting

against some national vice, or advancing some great public interest,

let it be considered even by busy men that their country, and must

add, their Church, have true claims upon them. Even heathens and

unbelievers have said, "It is sweet and glorious to die for one's

country." It is a poor state of things when in a Christian community

men are so sunk in indolence and selfishness that they will not stir

a finger on its behalf.

4. Barzillai was evidently a man of attractive personal qualities.

The king was so attracted by him, that he wished him to come with

him to Jerusalem, and promised to sustain him at court. The heart

of King David was not too old to form new attachments. And towards

Barzillai he was evidently drawn. We can hardly suppose but that

there were deeper qualities to attract the king than even his

loyalty and generosity. It looks as if David perceived a spiritual

congeniality that would make Barzillai, not only a pleasant inmate,

but a profitable friend. For indeed in many ways Barzillai and David

seem to have been like one another. God had given them both a warm,

sunny nature. He had prospered them in the world. He had given them

a deep regard for Himself and delight in His fellowship. David must

have found in Barzillai a friend whose views on the deepest subjects

were similar to his own. At Jerusalem the men who were of his mind

were by no means too many. To have Barzillai beside him, refreshing

him with his experiences of God's ways and joining with him in songs

of praise and thanksgiving, would be delightful. "Behold, how good

and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" But

however pleasant the prospect may have been to David, it was not one

destined to be realized.

5. For Barzillai was not dazzled even by the highest offers of the

king, because he felt that the proposal was unsuitable for his

years. He was already eighty, and every day was adding to his burden,

and bringing him sensibly nearer the grave. Even though he might be

enjoying a hale old age, he could not be sure that he would not break

down suddenly, and thus become an utter burden to the king. David had

made the offer as a compliment to Barzillai, although it might also

be a favour to himself, and as a compliment the aged Gileadite was

entitled to view it. And viewing it in that light, he respectfully

declined it. He was a home-loving man, his habits had been formed

for a quiet domestic sphere, and it was too late to change them.

His faculties were losing their sharpness; his taste had become

dulled, his ear blunted, so that both savoury dishes and elaborate

music would be comparatively thrown away on him. The substance of

his answer was, I am an old man, and it would be unsuitable in me to

begin a courtier's life. In a word, he understood what was suitable

for old age. Many a man and woman too, perhaps, even of Barzillai's

years, would have jumped at King David's offer, and rejoiced to share

the dazzling honours of a court, and would have affected youthful

feelings and habits in order to enjoy the exhilaration and the

excitement of a courtier's life. In Barzillai's choice, we see the

predominance of a sanctified common sense, alive to the proprieties

of things, and able to see how the enjoyment most suitable to an

advanced period of life might best be had. It was not by aping youth

or grasping pleasures for which the relish had gone. Some may think

this a painful view of old age. Is it so that as years multiply the

taste for youthful enjoyments passes away, and one must resign one's

self to the thought that life itself is near its end? Undoubtedly

it is. But even a heathen could show that this is by no means an

evil. The purpose of Cicero's beautiful treatise on old age, written

when he was sixty-two, but regarded as spoken by Cato at the age of

eighty-four, was to show that the objections commonly brought against

old age were not really valid. These objections were--that old age

unfits men for active business, that it renders the body feeble, that

it deprives them of the enjoyment of almost all pleasures, and that

it heralds the approach of death. Let it be granted, is the substance

of Cicero's argument; nevertheless, old age brings enjoyments of a

new order that compensate for those which it withdraws. If we have

wisdom to adapt ourselves to our position, and to lay ourselves out

for those compensatory pleasures, we shall find old age not a burden,

but a joy. Now, if even a heathen could argue in that way, how much

more a Christian! If he cannot personally be so lively as before, he

may enjoy the young life of his children and grandchildren or other

young friends, and delight to see them enjoying what he cannot now

engage in. If active pleasures are not to be had, there are passive

enjoyments--the conversation of friends, reading, meditation, and

the like--of which all the more should be made. If one world is

gliding from him, another is moving towards him. As the outward man

perisheth, let the inward man be renewed day by day.

There are few more jarring scenes in English history than the last days

of Queen Elizabeth. As life was passing away, a historian of England

says, "she clung to it with a fierce tenacity. She hunted, she danced,

she jested with her young favourites, she coquetted, and frolicked,

and scolded at sixty-seven as she had done at thirty." "The Queen,"

wrote a courtier, "a few months before her death was never so gallant

these many years, nor so set upon jollity." She persisted, in spite of

opposition, in her gorgeous progresses from country house to country

house. She clung to business as of old, and rated in her usual fashion

one "who minded not to giving up some matter of account." And then a

strange melancholy settled on her. Her mind gave way, and food and

rest became alike distasteful. Clever woman, yet very foolish in not

discerning how vain it was to attempt to carry the brisk habits of

youth into old age, and most profoundly foolish in not having taken

pains to provide for old age the enjoyments appropriate to itself! How

differently it has fared with those who have been wise in time and

made the best provision for old age! "I have waited for Thy salvation,

O my God," says the dying Jacob, relieved and happy to think that the

object for which he had waited had come at last. "I am now ready to be

offered," says St. Paul, "and the time of my departure is at hand. I

have fought the good fight; I have finished my course; I have kept the

faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness,

which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me at that day, and not

to me only, but unto all them also that love His appearing." Which is

the better portion--he whose old age is spent in bitter lamentation

over the departed joys and brightness of his youth? or he whose sun

goes down with the sweetness and serenity of an autumn sunset, but only

to rise in a brighter world, and shine forth in the glory of immortal

youth?

6. Holding such views of old age, it was quite natural and suitable for

Barzillai to ask for his son Chimham what he respectfully declined for

himself. For his declinature was not a rude rejection of an honour

deemed essentially false and vain. Barzillai did not tell the king that

he had lived to see the folly and the sin of those pleasures which in

the days of youth and inexperience men are so greedy to enjoy. That

would have been an affront to David, especially as he was now getting

to be an old man himself. He recognised that a livelier mode of life

than befitted the old was suitable for the young. The advantages of

residence at the court of David were not to be thought little of by

one beginning life, especially where the head of the court was such a

man as David, himself so affectionate and attractive, and so deeply

imbued with the fear and love of God. The narrative is so short that

not a word is added as to how it fared with Chimham when he came to

Jerusalem. Only one thing is known of him: it is said that, after the

destruction of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar, when Johanan conducted to

Egypt a remnant of Jews that he had saved from the murderous hand of

Ishmael, "they departed and dwelt in the habitation of Chimham, which

is by Bethlehem, to go into Egypt." We infer that David bestowed on

Chimham some part of his paternal inheritance at Bethlehem. The vast

riches which he had amassed would enable him to make ample provision

for his sons; but we might naturally have expected that the whole of

the paternal inheritance would have remained in the family. For some

reason unknown to us, Chimham seems to have got a part of it. We cannot

but believe that David would desire to have a good man there, and it

is much in favour of Chimham that he should have got a settlement

at Bethlehem. And there is another circumstance that tells in his

favour: during the five centuries that elapsed between David's time

and the Captivity, the name of Chimham remained in connection with

that property, and even so late as the time of Jeremiah it was called

"Chimham's habitation." Men do not thus keep alive dishonoured names,

and the fact that Chimham's was thus preserved would seem to indicate

that he was one of those of whom it is said, "The memory of the just is

blessed."

Plans for life were speedily formed in those countries; and as

Rebekah wished no delay in accompanying Abraham's servant to be the

wife of Isaac, nor Ruth in going forth with Naomi to the land of

Judah, so Chimham at once went with the king. The interview between

David and Barzillai was ended in the way that in those countries

was the most expressive sign of regard and affection: "David kissed

Barzillai," but "Chimham went on with him."

The meeting with Barzillai and the finding of a new son in Chimham must

have been looked back on by David with highly pleasant feelings. In

every sense of the term, he had lost a son in Absalom; he seems now to

find one in Chimham. We dare not say that the one was compensation for

the other. Such a blank as the death of Absalom left in the heart of

David could never be filled up from any earthly source whatever. Blanks

of that nature can be filled only when God gives a larger measure of

His own presence and His own love. But besides feeling very keenly

the blank of Absalom's death, David must have felt distressed at the

loss as it seemed, of power, to secure the affections of the younger

generation of his people, many of whom, there is every reason to

believe, had followed Absalom. The ready way in which Chimham accepted

of the proposal in regard to him would therefore be a pleasant incident

in his experience; and the remembrance of his father's fast attachment

and most useful friendship would ever be in David's memory like an

oasis in the desert.

We return for a moment to the great lesson of this passage. Aged men,

it is a lesson for you. Titus was instructed to exhort the aged men

of Crete to be "sober, grave, temperate, sound in faith, in charity,

in patience." It is a grievous thing to see grey hairs dishonoured.

It is a humiliating sight when Noah excites either the shame or the

derision of his sons. But "the hoary head is a crown of glory if it

is found in the way of uprightness." And the crown is described in

the six particulars of the exhortation to Titus. It is a crown of six

jewels. Jewel the first is "sobriety," meaning here self-command,

self-control, ability to stand erect before temptation, and calmness

under provocation and trial. Jewel the second is "gravity," not

sternness, nor sullenness, nor censoriousness, but the bearing of one

who knows that "life is real, life is earnest," in opposition to the

frivolous tone of those who act as if there were no life to come. Jewel

the third is "temperance," especially in respect of bodily indulgence,

keeping under the body, never letting it be master, but in all respects

a servant. Jewel the fourth, "soundness in faith," holding the true

doctrine of eternal life, and looking forward with hope and expectation

to the inheritance of the future. Jewel the fifth, "soundness in

charity," the charity of the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians,

itself a coruscation of the brightest gem in the Christian cabinet.

Jewel the sixth, "soundness in patience," that grace so needful,

but so often neglected, that grace that gives an air of serenity to

one's character, that allies it to heaven, that gives it sublimity,

that bears the unbearable, and hopes and rejoices on the very edge of

despair. Onward, then, ye aged men, in this glorious path! By God's

grace, gather round your head these incorruptible jewels, which shine

with the lustre of God's holiness, and which are the priceless gems of

heaven. Happy are ye, if indeed you have these jewels for your crown;

and happy is your Church where the aged men are crowned with glory like

the four-and-twenty elders before the throne!

But what of those who dishonour God, and their own grey hairs, and

the Church of Christ by stormy tempers, profane tongues, drunken

orgies, and disorderly lives? "O my soul, come not thou into their

secret! To their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united!"

The Expositor's Bible: The Second Book of Samuel · 第 26 / 33 章