'And David said, is there yet any that is left of the house of Saul,
that I may shew him kindness for Jonathan's sake? 2. And there was of
the house of Saul a servant whose name was Ziba. And when they had
called him unto David, the king said unto him, Art thou Ziba? And he
said, Thy servant is he. 3. And the king said, Is there not yet any of
the house of Saul, that I may shew the kindness of God unto him? And
Ziba said unto the king, Jonathan hath yet a son, which is lame on his
feet. 4. And the king said unto him, Where is he? And Ziba said unto
the king, Behold, he is in the house of Machir, the son of Ammiel, in
Lo-debar. 5. Then king David sent, and fetched him out of the house of
Machir, the son of Ammiel, from Lo-debar., 6. 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, Mephibosheth. And he
answered, Behold thy servant! 7. And David said unto him. Fear not; for
I will surely shew then kindness for Jonathan thy father's sake, and
will restore thee all the land of Saul thy father: and thou shalt eat
bread at my table continually. 8. And he bowed himself, and said, What
is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?
9. Then the king called to Ziba, Saul's servant, and said unto him, I
hare given unto thy master's son all that pertained to Saul and to all
his house. 10. Thou therefore, and thy sons, and thy servants, shall
till the land for him, and thou shalt bring in the fruits, that thy
master's son may have food to eat: but Mephibosheth thy master's son
shall eat bread alway at my table. Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty
servants. 11. Then said Ziba unto the king, According to all that my
lord the king hath commanded his servant, so shall thy servant do. As
for Mephibosheth, said the king, he shall eat at my table, as one of
the king's sons. 12. And Mephibosheth had a young son, whose name was
Micha: and all that dwelt in the house of Ziba were servants unto
Mephibosheth. 13. So Mephibosheth dwelt in Jerusalem: for he did eat
continually at the king's table; and was lame on both his feet.'--2
SAMUEL ix.1-13.
This charming idyl of faithful love to a dead friend and generous
kindness comes in amid stories of battle like a green oasis in a
wilderness of wild rocks and sand. The natural sweetness and chivalry
of David's disposition, which fascinated all who had to do with him,
comes beautifully out in it, and it may well stand as an object lesson
of the great Christian duty of practical mercifulness.
I. So regarded, the narrative brings out first the motives of true
kindliness. Saul and three of his four sons had fallen on the fatal
field of Gilboa; the fourth, the weak Ishbosheth, had been murdered
after his abortive attempt at setting up a rival kingdom had come to
nothing. There were only left Saul's daughters and some sons by a
concubine. So low had the proud house sunk, while David was
consolidating his kingdom, and gaining victory wherever he went.
But neither his own prosperity, nor the absence of any trace of Saul's
legitimate male descendants, made him forget his ancient oath to
Jonathan. Years had not weakened his love, his sufferings at Saul's
hands had not embittered it. His elevation had not lifted him too high
to see the old days of lowliness, and the dear memory of the
self-forgetting friend whose love had once been an honour to the
shepherd lad. Jonathan's name had been written on his heart when it was
impressionable, and the lettering was as if 'graven on the rock for
ever.' A heart so faithful to its old love needed no prompting either
from men or circumstances. Hence the inquiry after 'any that is left of
the house of Saul' was occasioned by nothing external, but came welling
up from the depth of the king's own soul.
That is the highest type of kindliness which is spontaneous and
self-motived. It is well to be easily moved to beneficence either by
the sight of need or by the appeals of others, but it is best to kindle
our own fire, and be our own impulse to gracious thoughts and acts. We
may humbly say that human mercy then shows likest God's, when, in such
imitation as is possible, it springs in us, as His does in Him, from
the depths of our own being. He loves and is kind because He is God. He
is His own motive and law. So, in our measure, should we aim at
becoming.
But David's remarkable language in his questions to Ziba goes still
deeper in unfolding his motives. For he speaks of showing 'the kindness
of God' to any remaining of Saul's house. Now that expression is no
mere synonym for kindness exceeding great, but it unfolds what was at
once David's deepest motive and his bright ideal. No doubt, it may
include a reminiscence of the sacred obligation of the oath to
Jonathan, but it hallows David's purposed 'mercy' as the echo of God's
to him, and so anticipates the Christian teaching, 'Be ye merciful,
even as your Father is merciful.' We must receive mercy from Him before
our hearts are softened, so as to give it to others, just as the wire
must be charged from the electric source before it can communicate the
tingle and the light.
The best basis for the beneficent service of man is experience of the
mercy of God. Philanthropy has no roots unless it is planted in
religion. That is a lesson which this age needs. And the other side of
the thought is as true and needful; namely, that our 'religion' is not
'pure and undefiled' unless it manifests itself in the service of man.
How serene and lofty, then, the ideal! How impossible ever to be too
forgiving or too beneficent! 'As your heavenly Father is,'--that is our
pattern. We have not shown our brother all the kindness which we owe
him unless we have shown him 'the kindness of God.'
II. The progress of the story brings out next the characteristics of
David's kindliness, and these may be patterns for us. Ziba does not
seem to be very communicative, and appears a rather unwilling witness,
who needs to have the truth extracted bit by bit. He evidently had
nothing to do with Mephibosheth, and was quite content that he should
be left obscurely stowed away across Jordan in the house of the rich
Machir (2 Sam. xvii. 27-29). Lo-debar was near Mahanaim, on the eastern
side of the river, where Ishbosheth's short-lived kingdom had been
planted, and probably the population there still clung to Saul's
solitary representative. There he lived so privately that none of
David's people knew whether he was alive or dead. Perhaps the savage
practice of Eastern monarchs, who are wont to get rid of rivals by
killing them, led the cripple son of Jonathan to 'lie low,' and Ziba's
reticence may have been loyalty to him. It is noteworthy that Ziba is
not said to have been sent to bring him, though that would have been
natural.
At any rate, Mephibosheth came, apparently dreading whether his summons
to court was not his death-warrant. But he is quickly reassured. David
again recalls the dear memory of Jonathan, which was, no doubt, stirred
to deeper tenderness by the sight of his helpless son; but he swiftly
passes to practical arrangements, full of common-sense and grasp of the
case. The restoration of Saul's landed estate implies that it was in
David's power. It had probably been 'forfeited to the crown,' as we in
England say, or perhaps had been 'squatted on' by people who had no
right to it. David, at any rate, will see that it reverts to its owner.
But what is a lame man to do with it? and will it be wise to let a
representative of the former dynasty loose in the territory of
Benjamin, where Saul's memory was still cherished? Apparently, David's
disposition of affairs was prompted partly by consideration for
Mephibosheth, partly by affection for Jonathan, and partly by policy.
So Ziba, who had not been present, is sent for, and installed as
overseer of the estate, to work it for his new master's benefit, while
the owner is to remain at Jerusalem in David's establishment. It was
prudent to keep Mephibosheth at hand. The best way to weaken a
pretender's claims was to make a pensioner of him, and the best way to
hinder his doing mischief was to keep him in sight.
But we need not suppose that this was David's only motive. He gratified
his heart by retaining the poor young man beside himself, and, no
doubt, sought to win his confidence and love. The recipient of his
kindness receives it in characteristic Eastern fashion, with
exaggerated words of self-depreciation, which sound almost too humble
to be quite sincere. A little gratitude is better than whining
professions of un worthiness.
And how did Ziba like his task? The singular remark that he had
'fifteen sons and twenty servants' perhaps suggests that he was a
person of some importance; and the subsequent one that 'all in his
house were servants to Mephibosheth' may imply that neither they nor he
quite liked their being handed over thus cavalierly.
But, however that may be, we may note that common-sense and practical
sagacity should guide our mercifulness. Kindly impulses are good, but
they need cool heads to direct them, or they do more harm than good. It
is useless to set lame men to work an estate, even if they get a gift
of it. And it is wise not to put untried ones in positions where they
may plot against their benefactor. Mercifulness does not mean rash
trust in its objects. They will often have to be watched very closely
to keep them from going wrong. How many most charitable impulses have
been so unwisely worked out that they have injured their objects and
disappointed their subjects! We may note, too, in David's kindliness,
that it was prompt to make sacrifice, if, as is probable, he had become
owner of the estate. The pattern of all mercy, who is God, has not
loved us with a love which cost Him nothing. Sacrifice is the
life-blood of service.
III. The subsequent history of Mephibosheth and Ziba is somewhat
enigmatical. Usually the former is supposed to have been slandered by
the latter, and to have been truly attached to David. But it is at
least questionable whether Ziba was such a villain, and Mephibosheth
such an injured innocent, as is supposed. This, at least, is plain,
that Ziba demonstrated attachment to David at the time when self-love
would have kept him silent. It took some courage to come with gifts to
a discrowned king (2 Sam. xvi. 1-4); and his allegation about his
master has at least this support, that the latter did not come with the
rest of David's court to share his fortunes, and that the dream that he
might fish to advantage in troubled waters is extremely likely to have
occurred to him. Nor does it appear clear that, if Ziba's motive was to
get hold of the estate, his adherence to David would have seemed, at
that moment, the best way of effecting it.
If we look at the sequel (xix. 24-30) Mephibosheth's excuse for not
joining David seems almost as lame as himself. He says that Ziba
'deceived him,' and did not bring him the ass for riding on, and
therefore he could not come. Was there only one ass available in
Jerusalem? and, when all David's _entourage_ were streaming out to
Olivet after him, could not he easily have got there too if he had
wished? His demonstration of mourning looks very like a blind, and his
language to David has a disagreeable ring of untruthfulness, in its
extreme professions of humility and loyalty. 'Me thinks the _cripple_
doth protest too much. David evidently did not feel sure about him, and
stopped his voluble utterances somewhat brusquely: 'Why speakest thou
any more of thy matters?' That is as much as to say, 'Hold your
tongue.' And the final disposition of the property, while it gives
Mephibosheth the benefit of the doubt, yet looks as if there was a
considerable doubt in the king's mind.
We may take up the same somewhat doubting position. If he requited
David's kindness thus unworthily, is it not the too common experience
that one way of making enemies is to load with benefits? But no cynical
wisdom of that sort should interfere with our showing mercy; and if we
are to take 'the kindness of God' for our pattern, we must let our
sunshine and rain fall, as His do, on 'the unthankful and the evil.'
'MORE THAN CONQUERORS THROUGH HIM'
'And the children of Ammon came out, and put the battle in array at the
entering in of the gate: and the Syrians of Zoba, and of Rehob, and
Ish-tob, and Maacah, were by themselves in the field. 9. When Joab saw
that the front of the battle was against him before and behind, he
chose of all the choice men of Israel, and put them in array against
the Syrians: 10. And the rest of the people he delivered into the hand
of Abishai his brother, that he might put them in array against the
children of Ammon. 11. And he said, if the Syrians be too strong for
me, then thou shalt help me: but if the children of Ammon be too strong
for thee, then I will come and help thee. 12. Be of good courage, and
let us play the men for our people, and for the cities of our God: and
the Lord do that which seemeth Him good. 13. And Joab drew nigh, and
the people that were with him, unto the battle against the Syrians: and
they fled before him. 14. And when the children of Ammon saw that the
Syrians were fled, then fled they also before Abishai, and entered into
the city. So Joab returned from the children of Ammon, and came to
Jerusalem. 15. And when the Syrians saw that they were smitten before
Israel, they gathered themselves together. 16. And Hadarezer sent, and
brought out the Syrians that were beyond the river: and they came to
Helam: and Shobach the captain of the host of Hadarezer went before
them. 17. And when it was told David, he gathered all Israel together,
and passed over Jordan, and came to Helam. And the Syrians set
themselves in array against David, and fought with him. 18. And the
Syrians fled before Israel; and David slew the men of seven hundred
chariots of the Syrians, and forty thousand horsemen, and smote Shobach
the captain of their host, who died there. 19. And when all the kings
that were servants to Hadarezer saw that they were smitten before
Israel, they made peace with Israel, and served them. So the Syrians
feared to help the children of Ammon any more.'--2 SAMUEL x. 8-19.
David's growing power would naturally be regarded by neighbouring
states as a menace. Success provokes envy, and in this selfish world
strength usually encroaches on weakness, and weakness dreads strength.
So it was quite according to the way of the world that David's friendly
embassy to the king of Ammon should be suspected of covering hostile
intentions. Those who have no kindness in their own hearts are slow to
believe in kindness in others. 'What does he want to get by it?' is the
question put by cynical 'shrewd men,' when they see a good man doing a
gracious, self-forgetting act.
But the Ammonite courtiers need not have rejected David's overtures so
insolently as by shaving half his ambassadors' beards and docking their
robes. The insult meant war to the knife. Probably it was deliberately
intended as a declaration of hostilities, as it was immediately
followed by the preparation of a formidable coalition against Israel.
Possibly, indeed, the coalition preceded and occasioned the rejection
of David's conciliatory message. But, in any case, the Ammonite king
summoned his Syrian allies from a number of small states of which we
barely know the names, the chief of which was Zobah.
That state had apparently started into prominence under its king
Hadar-ezer, as he is called in this chapter, which is obviously a
clerical error for Hadad-ezer, as in 2 Samuel viii. 3, etc. The name
Hadad occurs again in Ben-hadad, and belonged to a Syrian god; so that
the king of Zobah's name, meaning 'Hadad [is] help,' may be taken as
the banner flaunted in the face of the army of Israel, and as making
the war a struggle of the false against the true God.
The war with the same enemies narrated in 2 Samuel viii. 3-13 is now
generally supposed to be the same as that recorded in the latter part
of this passage. It certainly seems more probable that there has been
some dislocation of the text, than that so crushing a defeat as that
retold in chapter viii. should have been followed by a revival of the
same coalition within a short time. If, however, there was such a
revival, it may remind us of the conditions of all warfare for God and
goodness, either in our own lives or in the world. Sins and vicious
institutions, once defeated, have a terrible power of swift recovery.
The thorns cut down sprout fast again. Let no man say, 'I have
extirpated that sin from my nature,' for, if he does, it will surprise
him when he is lulled in false security. Hadad-ezer is not so easily
got rid of. He does not know when he is beaten.
David took the bull by the horns, and did not wait to be attacked. It
was good policy to carry the war into the enemies' country, as it
generally is. God's soldiers have to be aggressive, and there is no
better way of losing what they have won than by being contented with
it. We must advance if we are not to retrograde. From I Chronicles we
learn that the Ammonites had begun the campaign by besieging Medeba, a
trans-Jordanic Israelitish city. The answer of Joab was to lay siege to
Rabbath, the capital of Ammon, an almost impregnable fastness, perched
on a cliff, and surrounded on all sides but one by steep ravines.
Apparently his bold strategy led to the abandonment of the attack on
Medeba, and to the hurried march of its besiegers to relieve Rabbath.
Probably the Syrian allies had been before Medeba, and suddenly
appeared in Joab's rear. Their advance led the besieged to attempt a
sortie, so that Joab was between two fires. It was a difficult
position. Whichever foe he attacked, his retreat was cut off, and
another enemy was ready to hurl itself on his rear. There was no time
for manoeuvring, and nothing for it but to face both assailants. So,
without hesitation he made his dispositions. The new-comers, the
Syrians, were evidently the more formidable, and Joab picked the best
men to deal with them under his own command, while his brother Abishai
was to give account of the Ammonites, who were pouring out of Rabbath.
There is sometimes advantage in being 'Mr. Facing-both-ways.' We are
often surrounded by allied evils or sins; for all our vices are
kindred, and help each other, and all public or social iniquities are
in league against the army of righteousness. We have to be many-sided
in our attacks on what is wrong, as well as in our development of what
is right.
Danger woke the best in Joab, Fierce and truculent as he often was, he
had a hero's mettle in him, and in that dark hour he flamed like a
pillar of light. His ringing words to his brother as they parted, not
knowing if they would ever meet again, are like a clarion call. They
extract encouragement out of the separation of forces, which might have
depressed, and cheerily pledge the two divisions to mutual help. What
was to happen, Joab, if the Syrians were too strong for thee, and the
Ammonites for Abishai? That very possible contingency is not
contemplated in his words. Rash confidence is unwise, but God's
soldiers have a right to go into battle not anticipating utter defeat.
Such expectation is apt to fulfil itself, and, on the other hand, to
believe that we shall conquer goes a long way towards making us
conquerors.
Does not Joab's pledge of mutual help carry in it a lesson applicable
to all the divisions of God's great army? In the presence of the
coalition of evil, is not the separation of the friends of good,
madness? When bad men unite, should not good men hold together? The
defeat or victory of one is the defeat or victory of all. We serve
under the same banner, and, instead of shutting up our sympathies
within the narrow limits of our own regiment, and even having a certain
satisfaction at the difficulties into which another has got, we should
feel that, if 'one member suffer, all the members suffer with it,' and
should be ready to help all our fellow-soldiers who need help.
Self-preservation as well as comradeship, and, above all, loyalty to
Him for whom we fight, should lead to that; for, if Abishai is crushed,
Joab will be in sorer peril.
His other word is equally pregnant. 'Be of good courage' is an
exhortation always in season for Christ's soldiers, for, whatever are
their foes, 'He that is with them is more than they that are with'
their enemies. One man with Christ to back him may always be sure of
victory. Calculations of probabilities and of resources may often yield
occasion for despondency if we calculate only what appears to sense,
but if we bring Christ into the calculation we shall be of good cheer.
'The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?'
We may note, too, the stimulating motive drawn from the thought of what
Israel's army fought for,--'Our people, and the cities of our God.'
Patriotism and devotion coalesced, and, like two contiguous flames in
some duplex lamp, each made the other burn the brighter. So we may feel
that we have the highest good of 'our people,' our brethren, in view,
and that, in helping them and warring against evil, we are fighting for
what belongs to God.
High courage, the effort to do their very best, and not to spare blood
or life in the fight, blended nobly in Joab and his brother with
recognition of God's supreme determination of the event. Nothing can
stand before men who live and fight in such a temper as that. The early
conquests of Mohammedanism were secured by just such a blending of
courage and submission. These were vulgar and poor, compared with the
victories that would attend a Church which was animated by these
principles in the higher form in which Christianity presents them.
The account of the victory is remarkable. It is surely not by accident
that no word is said about fighting. Note that it was as Joab 'drew
nigh unto the battle' that the Syrians fled as if in sudden panic, and
infected the Ammonites with their terror. We hear nothing of men slain,
or of any actual crossing of swords. Contrast verse 18, which tells of
a real fight. It is, perhaps, not pressing omissions too far to suggest
that the narrative favours the supposition of a bloodless victory. The
dangers that often appal Christ's servants have a way of often
disappearing when they are marched boldly up to. Like ghosts, they
vanish when accosted.
So ended one campaign. But Hadad-ezer, the soul of the coalition, was
not crushed, and the latter part of the passage tells of his renewed
attempt. Partial defeat stirs up our foes to stronger struggles. The
league was extended to include Syrian states farther east, and a still
more formidable expedition was fitted out to attack this dangerous
upstart king of Israel, who was casting his shadow so far. Such is
always the case. We are never in more danger of fresh assailants than
when we have won some victory over evil in ourselves or around us.
David repeated his former tactics. Not waiting to be attacked, and to
have the soil of Israel profaned and wasted by enemies, he crossed
Jordan to meet the would-be invader, and, when he met him, struck hard,
and crushed him and his host, slew the commander, and dispersed the
thunder-cloud. The coalition broke down. Hadad-ezer's tributaries were
glad to shake off his yoke and transfer their allegiance to David.
'Nothing succeeds like success.' The alliances between worldly men
banded against God's soldiers are held together by self-interest, and,
when that can be best secured by deserting a man when he is down, away
go all the allies, tumbling over each other in their haste to be the
first to desert and bring feigned submission to the conqueror. The
jackals leave the sick lion. The Syrians had had enough of helping
Ammon, and Rabbath might fall without their lifting a finger. So hollow
are the world's coalitions against God and His anointed!