THE CONSPIRACY
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 checkered 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 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 that has not been assailed by the power of
unbelief, like David when he fled for refuge to the king of Gath? 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 I trust 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 case are, doubtless,
familiar to the reader; 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. xi. 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 over 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 hardened on this occasion, and not 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 mourned 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 my house?"
etc. 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 for ever 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 into the immediate presence of the
holiness of God. This is the proper place for conscience to find
itself. When not there, it will find various expedients, subterfuges,
and 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 that could penetrate through all this covering
which David's insensibility has 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 confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,
_and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness_." To be cleansed from
unrighteousness is more 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.
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
in 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_," etc.; 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 3d 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
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 self-condemned 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 afterwards set forth in
Rom. iii. 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--_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. What could David do therefore but confess what he does?
for that was the truth concerning himself. What could now meet the
need of such a man? 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
to him the joy of His salvation, uphold him by His free Spirit,
deliver him from blood-guiltiness. In short, when Nathan's words 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 was brought humbly to 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, scarred 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. Grace does not set aside 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 restored;
nevertheless he had to harken to the solemn denunciation, "Now,
therefore, the sword shall never depart from thy 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 thy 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 hast 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 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 be made
manifest; the stream may flow for a time under ground, but sooner or
later it will break out. 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 plausible arguments
that such and such things are right, good, or 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 in its most glorious period, 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--divine grace is reflected on a dark
background. 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, surely, but pardons their sin, and makes
their very failures the channel through which, after humiliation and
self-judgment, 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 finally causes us to triumph through Him that loves
us!
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 fulfilment of the
prophet's denunciation, that the sword should never depart from his
house. Chapter xiii. 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, and, 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 in the name of the Lord, 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 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 some one, 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 thoughts 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 scene. 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 centre 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;
he would be in companionship with David.
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 hast 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 afterwards, 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 anything. 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, "the cup which _My Father_ hath given
Me to drink."
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 heard, 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 of 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 grieved 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.
Now 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 fulness 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,
exercised toward His enemies. "If, while we were enemies, we were
reconciled to God by the death of His Son," etc. 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
xvi. 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 lands. He takes
advantage of his master's weakness of body to deceive and malign 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 faithful man. 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 imparts 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 we were more
like Mephibosheth. But we are all too well disposed to 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, O 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 was 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
our blessed hope, how they would 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 speculative doctrine--a peculiar
tenet, possessing little or no practical power to attract the heart.
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."