2 Samuel
2:1-11 The Bright Dawn of a Reign
‘And it came to pass after this, that David enquired of the Lord, saying,
Shall I go up into any of the cities of Judah? And the Lord said unto him,
Go up. And David said, Whither shall I go up? And He said, Unto Hebron. 2.
So David went up thither, and his two wives also, Ahinoam the Jezreelitess,
and Abigail, Nabal’s wife, the Carmelite. 3. And his men that were with him
did David bring up, every man with his household: and they dwelt in the
cities of Hebron. 4. And the men of Judah came, and there they anointed
David king over the house of Judah. And they told David, saying, That the
men of Jabesh-gilead were they that buried Saul. 5. And David sent
messengers unto the men of Jabesh-gilead, and said unto them, Blessed be ye
of the Lord, that ye have shewed this kindness unto your lord, even unto
Saul, and have buried him. 6. And now the Lord shew kindness and truth unto
you: and I also will requite you this kindness, because ye have done this
thing. 7. Therefore now let your hands be strengthened, and be ye valiant:
for your master Saul is dead, and also the house of Judah have anointed me
king over them. 8. But Abner the son of Ner, captain of Saul’s host, took
Ishb-osheth the son of Saul, and brought him over to Mahanaim; 9. And he
made him king over Gilead, and over the Ashurites, and over Jezreel, and
over Ephraim, and over Benjamin, and over all Israel. 10. Ish-bosheth Saul’s
son was forty years old when he began to reign over Israel, and reigned two
years. But the house of Judah followed David. 11. And the time that David
was king in Hebron over the house of Judah was seven years and six months.’—
2 Samuel 2:1-11
The last stage of David’s wanderings had brought him to Ziklag, a Philistine
city. There he had been for over a year, during which he had won the regard
of Achish, the Philistine king of Gath. He had, at Achish’s request,
accompanied him with his contingent, in the invasion of Israel, which
crushed Saul’s house at Gilboa; but jealousy on the part of the other
Philistine leaders had obliged his patron to send him back to Ziklag. He
found it a heap of ashes. An Amalekite raid had carried off all the women
and children, and his soldiers were on the point of mutiny. His fortunes
seemed desperate, but his courage and faith were high, and he paused not a
moment for useless sorrow, but swept after the robbers, swooped down on them
like a bolt out of the blue, and scattered them, recovering the captives and
spoil. He went back to the ruins which had been Ziklag, and three days after
heard of Saul’s death.
The lowest point of his fortunes suddenly turned into the highest, for now
the path to the throne was open. But the tidings did not move him to joy.
His first thought was not for himself, but for Saul and Jonathan, whose old
love to him shone out again, glorified by their deaths. Swift vengeance from
his hand struck Saul’s slayer; the lovely elegy on the great king and his
son eased his heart. Then he turned to front his new circumstances, and this
passage shows how a God-fearing man will meet the summons to dignity which
is duty. It sets forth David’s conduct in three aspects-his assumption of
his kingdom, his loving regard for Saul’s memory, and his demeanour in the
face of rebellion.
I. David was now about thirty years old, and had had his character tested
and matured by his hard experiences. He ‘learned in suffering what he taught
in song.’
Exile, poverty, and danger are harsh but
effectual teachers, if accepted by a devout spirit, and fronted with brave
effort. The fugitive’s cave was a good preparation for the king’s palace.
The throne to which he was called was no soft seat for repose. The
Philistine invasion had torn away all the northern territory. He took the
helm in a tempest. What was he to do? Ziklag was untenable; where was he to
take his men? He could not stop in the Philistine territory, and he saw no
way clear.
God’s servants generally find that their promotion means harder duties and
multiplied perplexities. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.’ David
did what we shall do, if we are wise—he asked God to guide him. How that
guidance was asked and given we are not here told; but the analogy of 1
Samuel 30:7, 8 , suggests that it was by the Urim and Thummim, interpreted
by the high-priest. The form of inquiry seems to have been that a course of
action, suggested by the inquirer, was decided for him by a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No.’
So that there was the exercise of common-sense and judgment in formulating
the proposed course, as well as that of God’s direction in determining it.
That is how we still get divine direction. Bring your own wits to bear on
your action, and then do not obstinately stick to what seems right to you,
but ask God to negative it if it is wrong, and to confirm you in it if it is
right. If we humbly ask Him, ‘Am I to go, or not to go?’ we shall not be
left unanswered. We note the contrast between David’s submission to God’s
guidance and Saul’s self-willed taking his own way, in spite of Samuel. He
began right, and, in the main, he continued as he began. Self-will is sin
and ruin. Submission is joy, and peace, and success. God’s kings are
viceroys. They have to rule themselves and the world, but they have to be
ruled by His will. If they faithfully continue as His servants, they are
masters of all besides.
Hebron was a good capital for the new king, for it was a defensible
position, in the centre of his own tribe, and sacred by association with the
patriarchs. Established there, David was recognised as king by his
fellow-tribesmen, and by them only. No doubt, tribal jealousy was partly the
cause of this limited recognition, but probably the confusion incident to
the Philistine victory contributed to it. The result was that, though
David’s designation by Samuel to the kingship was universally known, and his
candidature had been popular, he had seven years of precarious sway over
this mere fraction of the nation. We read of no impatience on his part. He
let events shape themselves, or, rather, he let God shape events.
Passiveness is not always indolence. There are two ways of compassing our
desires. One is that which David himself tells us is the ‘young lions’ way,
of struggling and fighting, and that often ends in ‘lacking and suffering
hunger’; the other is that of waiting on the Lord, and that always ends in
‘not lacking any good.’ If we are sure that God has promised us anything,
and if He does not seem to have yet opened the way to obtaining it, our
‘strength is to sit still.’ If He has given us Hebron, we can be patient
till He please to give us Jerusalem.
II. Another side of David’s character comes beautifully out in his
treatment of the men of Jabesh-gilead.
That town owed much to Saul ( 1 Samuel
11), and its gratitude lasted, and dared much for him. It was a brave dash
that they made across Jordan to carry off Saul’s corpse from its ignominious
exposure; for it both defied the Philistines, and might be construed as
hostile to David. But his heart was too true to ancient friendship to do
anything but glow with admiring sympathy at that exhibition of affectionate
remembrance. Reconciling death had swept away all memories of Saul’s insane
jealousy, and he owned a brother in every one who showed kindness to the
unfortunate king.
If the Jabesh-Gileadites are a pattern of long-memoried gratitude, David’s
commendation of them is a model of love which survives injuries, and of
forgivingness which forgets them. It was as politic as it was generous.
Nothing could have been better calculated to attach Saul’s most devoted
partisans to him than showing that he honoured their faithful attachment to
Saul, and nothing could have more clearly defined his own position during
his wanderings as being no rebel. The dictates of true policy and those of
devout generosity always coincide. It is ever a blunder to be unforgiving,
and mercifulness is always expedient.
But David did not hide his claim to the allegiance of these true hearts. He
called on them to transfer their loyalty to himself, and he asserted, not
his anointing by Samuel, but his recognition by Judah, the premier tribe, as
the motive. No doubt the divine appointment is implied, as it was generally
known, but Judah’s action is put forward as showing the beginning of the
realisation of the divine designation. The men of Jabesh needed to ‘be
valiant’ if they were to acknowledge him; for it was a far cry to Hebron,
and the forces of the rival son of Saul were overrunning the northern
districts.
We have to take our sides in the age-long and worldwide warfare between
God’s King and the pretenders to His throne, and it often wants much courage
to do so when surrounded by antagonists. It seems a long way off to the true
monarch, and Abner’s army is a very solid reality, and very near. But it is
safest to take the side of the distant, rightful king.
III. David’s bearing in the face of opposition and rebellion comes out in 2
Samuel 2:8-11
Abner, Saul’s cousin, who had been in
high position when the stripling from Bethlehem fought Goliath, was not
capable of the self-effacement involved in acquiescing in David’s accession,
though he knew that the Lord had ‘sworn to David.’ So he set up a ‘King
Do-nothing’ in the person of a weak lad, the only survivor of Saul’s sons. A
strange state of mind that, which struggles against a recognised divine
appointment!
But is it only Abner who knew that he was trying to thwart God’s will?
Thousands of us are doing the same, and the attempt answers as well as it
did in his case.
The puppet king is named Ishbosheth in the lesson, but 1 Chronicles 8:33 and
9:39 show that his real name was Esh-baal. The former word means ‘The man of
shame’; the latter, ‘The man of Baal.’ The existence of Baal as an element
in names seems to indicate the incompleteness of the emancipation from
idolatry in Saul’s time, and the change will then indicate the keener
monotheistic conscience of later days. Another explanation is that Baal (’
Lord’) was in these cases used as a name for Jehovah, and was ‘changed at a
later period for the purpose of avoiding what was interpreted then as a
compound of the name of the Phoenician deity Baal’ (Driver, Notes on Hebrew
Text of the Books of Samuel ).
Abner set up his tool in Mahanaim, sacred for its associations with Jacob,
but, no doubt, recommended to him rather by its position on the east side of
Jordan, safe from the attacks of the victorious Philistines. From that
fastness he made raids to recover the territory which the victory at Gilboa
had won for them. First Gilead, on the same side of the river as Mahanaim;
then the territory of the ‘Ashurites’— probably a scribe’s error for
‘Asherites,’ the most northern tribe; and then, coming southward, the great
plain, with its cities, Ephraim and Benjamin,—in fact, all Israel except
Judah’s country was reconquered for Saul’s house.
The account of the distribution of territory between the two monarchies is
broken by the parenthesis in verse 10 , which, both by its awkward
interposition in the middle of a sentence and by its difficult chronological
statements, looks like a late addition.
For seven and a half years David reigned in Hebron, but was rather shut up
there than ruling thence. The most noteworthy fact is that he, soldier as he
was, took no steps to put down Abner’s rebellion. He defended himself when
attacked, but that was all. The three figures of David, Ishbosheth, and
Abner point lessons. Silent, still, trustful, and therefore patient, David
shows us how faith in God can lead to possessing one’s soul in patience till
‘the vision’ comes. We may have to wait for it, but ‘it will surely come,’
and what is time enough for God should be time enough for us. Saul’s son was
a poor, weak creature, who would never have thought of resisting David but
for the stronger will behind him. To be weak is, in this world full of
tempters, to drift into being wicked. We have to learn betimes to say ‘No,’
and to stick to it. Moral weakness attracts tempters as surely as a camel
fallen by the caravan track draws vultures from every corner of the sky. The
fierce soldier who fought for his own hand while professing to be moved by
loyalty to the dead king, may stand as a type of the self-deception with
which we gloss over our ugliest selfishness with fine names, and for an
instance of the madness which leads men to set themselves against God’s
plans, and therefore to be dashed in pieces, as some slim barrier reared
across the track of a train would be. To ‘rush against the thick bosses of
the Almighty’s buckler’ does no harm to the buckler, but kills the insane
assailant.
2 Samuel 5:1-12 One Fold and One Shepherd
‘Then came all the tribes of Israel to
David unto Hebron, and spake, saying, Behold, we are thy bone and thy flesh.
2. Also in time past, when Saul was king over us, thou wast he that leddest
out and broughtest in Israel: and the Lord said to thee, Thou shalt feed My
people Israel, and thou shalt be a captain over Israel. 3. So all the elders
of Israel came to the king to Hebron; and king David made a league with them
in Hebron before the Lord: and they anointed David king over Israel. 4.
David was thirty years old when he began to reign; and he reigned forty
years. 5. In Hebron he reigned over Judah seven years and six months; and in
Jerusalem he reigned thirty and three years over all Israel and Judah, 6.
And the king and his men went to Jerusalem unto the Jebusites, the
inhabitants of the land; which spake unto David, saying, Except thou take
away the blind and the lame, thou shalt not come in hither: thinking, David
cannot come in hither. 7. Nevertheless, David took the strong hold of Zion:
the same is the city of David. 8. And David said on that day, Whosoever
getteth up to the gutter, and smiteth the Jebusites, and the lame and the
blind, that are hated of David’s soul, he shall be chief and captain.
Wherefore they said, The blind and the lame shall not come into the house.
9. So David dwelt in the fort, and called it the city of David. And David
built round about from Millo and inward. 10. And David went on, and grew
great, and the Lord God of hosts was with him. 11. And Hiram king of Tyre
sent messengers to David, and cedar trees, and carpenters, and masons: and
they built David an house. 12. And David perceived that the Lord had
established him king over Israel, and that He had exalted his kingdom for
His people Israel’s sake.’— 2 Samuel 5:1-12
The dark day on Gilboa put the Philistines in possession of most of Saul’s
kingdom. Only in the south David held his ground, and Abner had to cross
Jordan to find a place of security for the remnants of the royal house. The
completeness of the Philistine conquest is marked, not only by Abner’s
flight to Mahanaim, but by the reckoning that David reigned for seven and a
half years and Ishbosheth two; for these periods must be supposed to have
ended very nearly at the same time, and thus there would be about five years
before the invaders were so far got rid of that Ishbosheth exercised
sovereignty over his part of Israel. It is singular that David should have
been left unattacked by the Philistines, and it is probably to be explained
by the friendly relations which had sprung up between Achish, king of Gath,
and him ( 1 Samuel 29). However that may be, his power was continually
increasing during his reign at Hebron over Judah, and at last Abner’s death
and the assassination of the poor phantom king, Ishbosheth, brought about
the total collapse of opposition.
I. This passage deals first with the submission of the tribes and the
reunion of the divided kingdom.
A comparison of verse 1 with verse 3 shows
that a formal delegation of elders from all the tribes which had held by
Ishbosheth, came to Hebron with their submission. The account in I
Chronicles is a verbatim copy of this one, with the addition of a glowing
picture of the accompanying feasting and joy. It also places much emphasis
on the sincerity of David’s new subjects, which needed some endorsement; for
loyalty which has been disloyal as long as it durst, may be suspected. The
elders have their mouths full of excellent reasons for recognising David’s
kingship,—he is their brother; he was their true leader in war, even in
Saul’s time; he has been appointed by God to be king and commander.
Unfortunately, it had taken the elders seven and a half years to feel the
force of these reasons, and probably their perceptions would still have
remained dull if Abner and Ishbosheth had lived. But David is both
magnanimous and politic, and neither bloodshed nor reproaches mar the close
of the strife. Seldom has so formidable a civil war been ended with so
complete an amnesty. Observe the expression that David ‘made a league with
them. . . before the Lord.’ The Israelitish monarch was no despot, but, in
modern language, a constitutional king, between whom and his subjects there
was a compact, which he as well as they had to observe. In what sense was it
made ‘before the Lord’? The ark was not at Hebron, though the priests were;
and the phrase is at once a testimony to the religious character of the
‘league’ and to the consciousness of God’s presence, apart from the symbol
of His presence. It points to a higher conception than that which brought
the ark to Ebenezer, and dreamed that the ark had brought God to the army.
Modern theories of the religious development of the Old Testament ask us to
recognise these two conceptions as successive. The fact is that they were
contemporaneous, and that the difference between them is not one of time,
but of spiritual susceptibility. Who anointed David for this third time?
Apparently the elders, for priests are not mentioned. Samuel had anointed
him, as token of the divine choice and symbol of the divine gifts for his
office. The men of Judah had anointed him, and finally the elders did so, in
token of the popular confirmation of God’s choice.
So David has reached the throne at last. Schooled by suffering, and in the
full maturity of his powers, enriched by the singularly varied experiences
of his changeful life, tempered by the swift alternations of heat and cold,
polished by friction, consolidated by heavy blows, he has been welded into a
fitting instrument for God’s purposes. Thus does He ever prepare for larger
service. Thus does He ever reward patient trust. Through trials to a throne
is the law for all noble lives in regard to their earthly progress, as well
as in regard to the relation between earth and heaven. But David is not only
a pattern instance of how God trains His servants, but he is a prophetic
person; and in his progress to his kingdom we have dimly, but really,
shadowed the path by which his Son and Lord attains to His,—a path thickly
strewn with thorns, and plunging into ‘valleys of the shadow of death’
compared with which David’s darkest hour was sunny. The psalms of the
persecuted exile have sounding through them a deeper sorrow; for they
‘testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ.’ ‘No cross, no crown,’ is
the lesson of David’s earlier life.
II. We have, next, the first victory of the reunited nation. Hebron was
too far south for the capital of the whole kingdom.
Jerusalem was more central, and, from its
position, surrounded on three sides with steep ravines, was a strong
military post. David’s soldier’s eye saw its advantages; and he, no doubt,
desired to weld the monarchy together by participation in danger and
triumph. The new glow of national unity would seek some great exploit, and
would resent as an insult the presence of the Jebusites in their stronghold.
The attack on it immediately follows the recognition of David’s kingship. It
is not necessary here to discuss the difficulties in verses 6-8 ; but we
note that they give, first, the insolent boast of the besieged, then the
twofold answer to it in fact and in word, and last, the memorial of the
victory in a proverb. Apparently the Jebusites’ taunt is best understood as
in the margin of the Revised Version,’ Thou shalt not come in hither, but
the blind and the lame shall turn thee away,’ They were so sure that their
ravines made them safe, that they either actually manned their walls with
blind men and cripples, or jeeringly shouted to the enemy across the valley
that these would do for a garrison. The other possible meaning of the words
as they stand in the Authorised Version would make ‘the blind and lame’
refer to David’s men, and the taunt would mean, ‘You will have to weed out
your men. It will take sharper eyes and more agile limbs than theirs to
clamber up here’; but the former explanation is the more probable. Such
braggart speeches were quite in the manner of ancient warfare.
2 Samuel 5:7 tells what the answer to this mocking shout from the ramparts
was, David did the impossible, and took the city. Courage built on faith has
a way of making the world’s predictions of what it cannot do look rather
ridiculous. David wastes no words in answering the taunt; but it stirs him
to fierce anger, and nerves him and his men for their desperate charge. The
obscure words in 2 Samuel 5:8 , which he speaks to his soldiers, do not need
the supplement given in the Authorized Version. The king’s quick eye had
seen a practical path for scaling the cliffs up some watercourse, where
there might be projections or vegetation to pull oneself up by, or shelter
which would hide the assailants from the defenders; and he bids any one who
would smite the Jebusites take that road up, and, when he is up, ‘smite.’ He
heartens his men for the assault by his description of the enemy. They had
talked about ‘blind and lame’; that is what they really are, or as unable to
stand against the Israelites’ fierce and sudden burst as if they were: and
furthermore, they are’ hated of David’s soul.’ It is a flash of the rage of
battle which shows us David in a new light. He was a born captain as well as
king; and here he exhibits the general’s power to see, as by instinct, the
weak point and to hurl his men on it. His swift decision and fiery eloquence
stir his men’s blood like the sound of a trumpet. The proverb that rose from
the capture is best read as in the Revised Version: ‘There are the blind and
the lame; he cannot come into the house.’
The point of it seems to be that,
notwithstanding the bragging Jebusites, he did ‘come into the house’; and so
its use would be to ridicule boasting confidence that was falsified by
events, as the Jebusites’ had been. It was worth while to record the boast
and its end; for they teach the always seasonable lesson of the folly of
over-confidence in apparently impregnable defences. It is a lesson of
worldly prudence, but still more of religion. There is always some
‘watercourse’ overlooked by us, up which the enemy may make his way.
Overestimate of our own strength and its companion folly, flippant
underestimate of the enemy’s power, are, in all worldly affairs, the sure
precursors of disaster; and in the Christian life the only safe temper is
that of the man who ‘feareth always,’ as knowing his own weakness and the
strength of his foe, and thereby is driven to that trust which casts out
fear.
On the other hand, David’s exploit reads us anew the lesson that to the
Christian soldier there is nothing impossible, with Jesus Christ for our
Captain. There are many unconquered fortresses of evil still to be carried
by assault, and they look steep and inaccessible enough; but there is some
way up, and He will show it us. For our own personal struggle with sin, and
for the Church’s conflict with social evils, this story is an encouragement
and a prophecy.
Jerusalem was captured by a reunited nation with its king at its head. As
long as our miserable divisions weaken and disgrace us, the Church fights at
a disadvantage; and the hoary fortresses of the foe will not be won till
Judah ceases to vex Ephraim, and Ephraim no more envies Judah, but all
Christ’s servants in one host, with the King known by each to be with them,
make the assault.
III. We have, lastly, the growth of the kingdom.
I pass over topographical questions,
which need not concern us here. The points recorded are David’s
establishment in the stronghold, his additions to the city, his increasing
greatness and its reason in the presence and favour of ‘the God of hosts,’
the special instance of this in the friendly intercourse with Hiram of Tyre
and the employment of Tyrian workmen, and the recognition of the source and
the purpose of his prosperity by the devout king. We see here the conditions
of true success,—‘The Lord, the God of hosts, was with him.’ We see also the
right use of it,—‘David perceived that the Lord had established him king.’
He was not puffed up into self-importance by his elevation, but devoutly and
clearly saw who had set him in his lofty place. And, as he traced his
royalty to God, so he recognised that he had received it, not for himself,
but as a trust to be used, not in self-indulgence, but for the national
good,—‘and that He had exalted his kingdom for His people Israel’s sake.’
Whosoever holds firmly by these two thoughts, and lives them, will adorn his
position, whatever it may be, and will be one of God’s crowned kings,
however obscure his lot and small his duties. He who lacks them will misuse
his gifts and mar his life, and the more splendid his endowments and the
higher his position, the more conspicuous will be his ruin and the heavier
his guilt.
2 Samuel 6:1-12 Death and Life From the
Ark
‘Again, David gathered together all the chosen men of Israel, thirty
thousand. 2. And David arose, and went with all the people that were with
him from Baale of Judah, to bring up from thence the ark of God, whose name
is called by the name of the Lord of hosts that dwelleth between the
cherubims. 3. And they set the ark of God upon a new cart, and brought it
out of the house of Abinadab that was in Gibeah: and Uzzah and Ahio, the
sons of Abinadab, drave the new cart. 4. And they brought it out of the
house of Abinadab which was at Gibeah, accompanying the ark of God: and Ahio
went before the ark. 5. And David and all the house of Israel played before
the Lord on all manner of instruments made of fir wood, even on harps, and
on psalteries, and on timbrels, and on cornets, and on cymbals. 6. And when
they came to Nachon’s thrashing-floor, Uzzah put forth his hand to the ark
of God, and took hold of it; for the oxen shook it. 7. And the anger of the
Lord was kindled against Uzzah; and God smote him there for his error; and
there he died by the ark of God. 8. And David was displeased, because the
Lord had made a breach upon Uzzah: and he called the name of the place
Perez-uzzah to this day. 9. And David was afraid of the Lord that day, and
said, How shall the ark of the Lord come to me? 10. So David would not
remove the ark of the Lord unto him into the city of David: but David
carried it aside into the house of Obed-edom the Gittite. 11. And the ark of
the Lord continued in the house of Obed-edom the Gittite three months: and
the Lord blessed Obed-edom, and all his household. 12. And it was told king
David, saying, The Lord hath blessed the house of Obed-edom and all that
pertaineth unto him, because of the ark of God. So David went and brought up
the ark of God from the house of Obed-edom into the city of David with
gladness.’— 2 Samuel 6:1-12
I. The first section (2 Samuel 6:1-5) describes the joyful reception and
procession.
The parallel account in 1 Chronicles
states that Baalah, or Baale, was Kirjath-jearim. Probably the former was
the more ancient Canaanitish name, and indicates that it had been a Baal
sanctuary. If so, the presence of the ark there was at once a symbol and an
omen, showing Jehovah’s conquest over the obscene and bloody gods of the
land, and forecasting His triumph over all the gods of the nations. Every
Baale shall one day be a resting-place of the ark of God. The solemn
designation of the ark, as ‘called by the Name, the name of the Lord of
Hosts, that dwelleth between the cherubim,’ is significant on this, its
reappearance after so long eclipse, and, by emphasising its awful sanctity,
prepares for the incidents which are to follow. The manner of the ark’s
transport was irregular; for the law strictly enjoined its being carried by
the Levites by means of bearing-poles resting on their shoulders; and the
copying of the Philistines’ cart, though a new one was made for the purpose,
indicates the desuetude into which the decencies of worship had fallen in
seventy years. In 1 Chronicles, the singular words in verse 5 , which
describe David as playing before the Lord on the very unlikely things for
such a purpose,’ all manner of instruments of fir wood,’ become ‘with all
their might: even with songs’ which seems much more reasonable. A slight
alteration in three letters and the transposition of two would bring our
text into conformity with I Chronicles, and the conjectural emendation is
tempting. Who ever heard of fir-wood musical instruments? The specified ones
which follow were certainly not made of it, and songs could scarcely fail to
be mentioned.
At all events, we see the glad procession streaming out of the little city
buried among its woods; the cart drawn by meek oxen, and loaded with the
unadorned wooden chest, in the midst; the two sons or descendants of its
faithful custodian honoured to be the teamsters; the king with the harp
which had cheered him in many a sad hour of exile; and the crowd ‘making a
joyful noise before the Lord,’ which might sound discord in our ears, as
some lifted up shrill songs, some touched stringed instruments, some beat on
timbrels, some rattled metal rods with movable rings, and some clashed
cymbals together. It was a wild scene, in which there was a dangerous
resemblance to the frantic jubilations of idolatrous worship. No doubt there
were true hearts in that crowd, and none truer than David’s. No doubt we
have to beware of applying our Christian standards to these early times, and
must let a good deal that is sensuous and turbid pass, as, no doubt, God let
it pass. But confession of sin in leaving the ark so long forgotten would
have been better than this tumultuous joy; and if there had been more
trembling in it, it would not have passed so soon into wild terror. Still,
on the other hand, that rejoicing crowd does represent, though in crude
form, the effect which the consciousness of God’s presence should ever have.
His felt nearness should be, as the Psalmist says, ‘the gladness of my joy.’
Much of our modern religion is far too gloomy, and it is thought to be a
sign of devotion and spiritual-mindedness to be sad and of a mortified
countenance. Unquestionably, Christianity brings men into the continual
presence of very solemn truths about themselves and the world which may well
sober them, and make what the world calls mirth incongruous.
‘There is no music in the life
That rings with idiot laughter solely.’
But the Man of Sorrows said that His purpose for us was that ‘His joy might
remain in us, and that our joy might be full’; and we but imperfectly
apprehend the gospel if we do not feel that its joys ‘much more abound’ than
its sorrows, and that they even burn brightest, like the lights on
safety-buoys, when drenched by stormy seas.
II. The second section contains the dread vindication of the sanctity of
the ark, which changed joy into terror, and silenced the songs.
At some bad place in the rocky and steep
track, the oxen stumbled or were restive. The spot is called in Samuel ‘the
threshing-floor of Nachon,’ but in Chronicles the owner is named ‘Chidon.’
As the former word means ‘a stroke’ and the latter ‘destruction,’ they are
probably not to be taken as proper names, but as applied to the place after
this event. The name given by David, however—Perez-uzzah—proved the more
permanent ‘to this day.’ Uzzah, who was driving while his brother went in
front to pilot the way, naturally stretched out his hand to steady his
freight, just as if it had been a sack of corn; and, as if he had touched an
electric wire, fell dead, as the story graphically says, ‘by the ark of
God.’ What confusion and panic would agitate the joyous singers, and how
their songs would die on their lips!
What harm was there in Uzzah’s action? It was most natural, and, in one
point of view, commendable. Any careful waggoner would have done the same
with any valuable article he had in charge. Yes; that was just the point of
his error and sin, that he saw no difference between the ark and any other
valuable article. His intention to help was right enough; but there was
profound insensibility to the awful sacredness of the ark, on which even its
Levitical bearers were forbidden to lay hands. All his life Uzzah had been
accustomed to its presence. It had been one of the familiar pieces of
furniture in Abinadab’s house, and, no doubt, familiarity had had its usual
effect. Do none of us ministers, teachers, and others, to whom the gospel
and the worship and ordinances of the Church have been familiar from
infancy, treat them in the same fashion? Many a hand is laid on the ark,
sometimes to keep it from falling, with more criminal carelessness of its
sacredness than Uzzah showed. Note, too, how swiftly an irreverent habit of
treating holy things grows. The first error was in breaking the commanded
order for removal of the ark by the Levites. Once in the cart, the rest
follows. The smallest breach in the feeling of awe and reverence will soon
lead to more complete profanation. There is nothing more delicate than the
sense of awe. Trifled with ever so little, it speedily disappears. There is
far too little of it in our modern religion. Perfect love casts out fear and
deepens awe which hath not torment.
Was not the punishment in excess of the sin? We must remember the times, the
long neglect of the ark, the decay of religion in Saul’s reign, the critical
character of the moment as the beginning of a new era, when it was
all-important to print deep the impression of sanctity, and the rude
material which had to be dealt with; and we must not forget that God, in His
punishments, does not adopt men’s ideas of death as such a very dreadful
thing. Many since have followed in David’s wake, and been ‘displeased,
because the Lord broke forth upon Uzzah’; but he and they have been wrong.
He ought to have known better, and to have understood the lesson of the
solemn corpse that lay there by the ark; instead of which he gives way to
mere terror, and was ‘afraid of the Lord.’ David afraid of the Lord! What
had become of the rapturous love and strong trust which ring clear through
his psalms? Is this the man who called God his rock and fortress and
deliverer, his buckler and the horn of his salvation and his high tower, and
poured out his soul in burning words, which glow yet through all the
centuries and the darkness of earth? It was ill for David to fall thus below
himself, but well for us that the eclipse of his faith and love should be
recorded, to hearten us, when the like emotions fall asleep in our souls.
His consciousness of impurity was wholesome and sound, but his cowering
before the ark, as if it were the seat of arbitrary anger, which might flame
out destruction for no discernible reason, was a woful darkening of his
loving insight into the heart of God.
III. The last section (2 Samuel 6:10-12 ) gives us the blessings on the
house of Obed-edom and the glad removal of the ark to Jerusalem.
Obed-edom is called a ‘Gittite,’ or man
of Gath; but he does not appear to have been a Philistine immigrant, but a
native of another Gath, a Levitical city, and himself a Levite. There is an
Obededom in the lists of David’s Levites in Chronicles who is probably the
same man. He did not fear to receive the ark, and, worthily received, the
presence which had been a source of disaster and death to idolaters, to
profanely curious pryers into its secret, and to presumptuous irreverence,
became a fountain of unbroken blessing. This twofold effect of the same
presence is but a symbol of a solemn law which runs through all life, and is
especially manifest in the effects of Christ’s work upon men. Everything has
two handles, and it depends on ourselves by which of them we lay hold of it,
and whether we shall receive a shock that kills, or blessings. The same
circumstances of poverty, or wealth, or sorrow, or temptation, make one man
better and another worse. The same presence of God will be to one man a joy;
to another, a terror. ‘What maketh heaven, that maketh hell.’ The same
gospel received is the fountain of life, purity, peace; and, rejected or
neglected, is the source of harm and death. Jesus Christ is ‘set for the
fall and rising again of many.’ Either He is the savour of life unto life,
the rock on which we build, or He is the savour of death unto death, the
stone on which we stumble and break our limbs.
2 Samuel 6:11 The Ark of the House of
Obed-Edom
‘The ark of the Lord continued in the house of Obed-edom the Gittite
three months; and the Lord blessed Obed-edom, and all his household.’— 2
Samuel 6:11
Nearly seventy years had elapsed since the capture of the ark by the
Philistines on the fatal field of Aphek. They had carried it and set it in
insolent triumph in the Temple of Dagon, as if to proclaim that the Jehovah
of Israel was the conquered prisoner of the Philistine god. But the morning
showed Dagon’s stump prone on the threshold. And so the terrified priests
got rid of their dangerous trophy as swiftly as they could. From one
Philistine city to another it passed, and everywhere its presence was marked
by disease and calamity. So at last they huddled it into some rude cart,
leaving the draught-oxen to drag it whither they would. They made straight
for the Judaean hills, and in the first little village were welcomed by the
inhabitants at their harvest, as they saw them coming across the plain. But
again death attended the Presence, and curiosity, which was profanity, was
punished. So the villagers were as eager to get rid of the ark as they had
been to welcome it, and they passed it on to the little city of
Kirjath-jearim , ‘the city of the woods,’ as the name means, or, as we might
say, ‘Woodville.’ And there it lay, neglected and all but forgotten, for
nearly seventy years. But as soon as David was established in his newly-won
capital he set himself to reorganize the national worship, which had fallen
into neglect and almost into disuse. The first step was to bring the ark.
And so he passed with a joyful company to Kirjath. But again swift death
overtakes Uzzah with his irreverent hand. And David shrinks, in the
consciousness of his impurity, and bestows the symbol of the awful Presence
in the house of Obed-edom. As we have already noted, he was probably not a
Philistine, as the name ‘Gittite’ at first sight suggests. There is an Obed-edom
in the lists of David’s Levites, who was an inhabitant of another Gath, and
himself of the tribe of Levi.
He was not afraid to receive the ark. There were no idols, no irreverent
curiosity, no rash presumption in his house. He feared and served the God of
the ark, and so the Presence, which had been a source of disaster to the
unworthy, was a source of unbroken blessing to him and to his household.
I have been the more particular in this enumeration of the wanderings of the
ark and the opposite effects which its presence produced according to the
manner of its reception, because these effects are symbols of a great truth
which runs all through human life, and is most especially manifested in the
message and the mission of Jesus Christ.
Let us, then, just trace out two or three of the spheres in which we may see
the application of this great principle, which makes life so solemn and so
awful, which may make it so sad or so glad, so base or so noble.
I. First, then, note the twofold operation of all God’s outward dealings.
Everything that befalls us, every object with which we come in contact, all
the variety of condition, all the variations of our experience, have one
distinct and specific purpose. They are all meant to tell upon character, to
make us better in sundry ways, to bring us closer to God, and to fill us
more full of Him. And that one effect may be produced by the most opposite
incidents, just as in some great machine you may have two wheels turning in
opposite ways, and yet contributing to one resulting motion; or, just as the
summer and the winter, with all their antitheses, have a single result in
the abundant harvest. One force attracts the planet to the sun, one force
tends to drive it out into the fields of space; but the two, working
together, make it circle in its orbit around its centre. And so, by sorrow
and by joy, by light and by dark, by giving and withholding, by granting and
refusing, by all the varieties of our circumstances, and by everything that
lies around us, God works to prepare us for Himself and to polish His
instruments, sometimes plunging the iron into ‘baths of hissing tears,’ and
sometimes heating it ‘hot with hopes and fears,’ and sometimes ‘battering’
it ‘with the shocks of doom,’ but all for the one purpose —that it may be a
polished shaft in His quiver.
And whilst, thus, the most opposite things may produce the same effect, the
same thing will produce opposite effects according to the way in which we
take it. There is nothing that can be relied upon to do a man only good;
there is nothing about which we need fear that its mission is only to do
evil. For all depends on the recipient, who can make everything to fulfil
the purpose for which God has sent him everything.
Here are two men tried by the same poverty. It beats the one down, makes him
squalid, querulous, faithless, irreligious, drives him to drink, crushes
him; and the other man it steadies and quiets and hardens, and teaches him
to look beyond the things seen and temporal to the exceeding riches at God’s
right hand.
Here are two men tried by wealth; the gold gets into the one man’s veins and
makes him yellow as with jaundice, and kills him, destroying all that is
noble, generous, impulsive, quenching his early dreams and enthusiasms,
closing his heart to sweet charity, puffing him up with a false sense of
Importance, and laying upon him the dreadful responsibility of misused and
selfishly employed possessions. And the other man, tried in the same
fashion, out of his wealth makes for himself friends that welcome him into
everlasting habitations, and lays up for himself treasures in heaven. The
one man is damned and the other man is saved by their use of the same thing.
Here are two men subjected to the same sorrows; the one is absorbed by his
selfish regard to his own misery, blinded to all the blessings that still
remain, made negligent of tasks and oblivious of the plainest duty. And he
goes about saying, ‘Oh, if thou hadst been here!’ or if, if something else
had happened, then this would not have happened. And the other man, passing
through the same circumstances, finds that, when his props are taken away,
he flings himself on God’s breast, and, when the world becomes dark and all
the paths dim about him, he looks up to a heaven that fills fuller of meek
and swiftly gathering stars as the night falls, and he says, ‘It is the
Lord; let Him do what seemeth Him good.’
Here are two men tried by the same temptation; it leads the one man away
captive ‘with a dart through his liver’; the other man by God’s grace
overcomes it, and is the stronger and the sweeter and the gentler and the
humbler because of the dreadful fight. And so you might go the whole round
of diverse circumstances, and about each of them find the same double
result. Nothing is sure to do a man good; nothing necessarily does him hurt.
All depends upon the man himself, and the use he makes of what God in His
mercy sends. Two plants may grow in the same soil, be fed by the same dews
and benediction from the heavens, be shone upon by the same sunshine, and
the one of them will elaborate from all, sweet juices and fragrance, and the
other will elaborate a deadly poison. So, my brother, life is what you and I
will to make it, and the events which befall us are for our rising or our
falling according as we determine they shall be, and according as we use
them.
Think, then, how solemn, how awful, how great a thing it is to stand here a
free agent, able to determine my character and my condition, surrounded by
all these circumstances and the subject of all these wise and manifold
divine dealings, in each of which there lie dormant, to be evoked by me,
tremendous possibilities of elevation even to the very presence of God, or
of sinking into the depths of separation from Him. The ark of God, that
overthrew Dagon and smote Uzzah, was nothing but a fountain of blessing in
the household of Obed-edom.
II. Secondly, note the twofold operation of God’s character and presence.
The ark was the symbol of a present God, and His presence is meant to be the
life and joy of all creatures, and the revelation of Him is meant to be only
for our good, giving strength, righteousness, and peace. But the same double
possibility which I have been pointing out as inherent in all externals
belongs here too, and a man can determine to which aspect of the many-sided
infinitude of the divine nature he shall stand in relation. The glass in
stained windows is so coloured as that parts of it cut off, and prevent from
passing through, different rays of the pure white light. And men’s moral
natures, the inclination of their hearts, and the set of their wills and
energies, cut off, if I may say so, parts of the infinite, white light of
the many-sided divine character, and put them into relations only with some
part and aspect of that great whole which we call God. The man that loves
the world, the man that is living for self, still more the man that is
embruted in the pig-sty of sensuality and vice, cannot see the God whom the
pure heart, which loves Him and is purified by its faith, discerns at the
centre of all things. But the lower man sees either some very far-off
Awfulness, in which he hopes vaguely that there is a kind of good nature
that will let him off; or, if he has been shaken out of that superficial
creed, which is only a creed for men whose consciences have not been
touched, then he can see only a God whose love darkens into retribution, and
who is the Judge and the Avenger. And no man can say that such a conception
is not part of the truth; but, alas! he on whom the form of such a God
glares has incapacitated himself, by his misuse of his powers and of God’s
world, from seeing the beauty of the love of the Father of us all, the
righteous Father who in Christ loves every man.
And thus the thought of God, the consciousness of His Presence, may be like
the ark which was its symbol, either dreadful and to be put away, or to be
welcomed and blessing to be drawn from it. To many of us I am sure—though I
do not know anything about many of you—that thought,’ Thou God seest me,’
breeds feelings like the uneasy discomfort of a prisoner when he knows that
somewhere in the wall there is a spy-hole at which at any moment a warder’s
eye may be. And to some of us, blessed be His name, that same thought, ‘Thou
art near me,’ seems to bathe the heart in a sea of sweet rest, and to bring
the assurance of a divine Companion that cheers all the solitude. And why is
the difference? There are two people sitting in one pew; to the one man the
thought of God is his ghastliest doubt, to the other it is his deepest joy.
Wherefore? And which is it to me?
Then, again, this same duality of aspect attaches to the character and
presence of God in another way. Because, according to the variety of men’s
characters, God is obliged to treat them as standing in different relations.
He must manifest His judgment, His justice, His punitive justice. There is a
solemn verse in one of the Psalms which I may quote in lieu of all words of
my own of this matter. ‘With the merciful Thou wilt show Thyself merciful,
with the pure Thou wilt show Thyself pure, with the froward Thou wilt show
Thyself froward.’ The present God has to modify His dealings according to
the characters of men.
And so, dear friends, for the present life, and, as I believe, for the next
life in a far more emphatic and awful way, the same thing makes blessedness
and misery, the same thing makes life and death. The sunshine will kill and
wither the slimy plants that grow in the dark recesses of some dripping
cave; and if you take a fish out of the water, the air clogs its gills and
it dies. Bring a man, such as some of you are, into a close, constant
contact with the consciousness of the divine righteousness and presence, and
you want nothing else to make a hell. The ark of the Lord will flash out its
lightnings and Uzzah will die. That great Infinite Being, before whom we
stand, holds in His right hand blessings beyond count or price, even the
gift of Himself, and in His left His lightnings and His arrows. On which
hand are you standing?
III. Lastly, note the twofold operation of God’s gospel.
His dealings, His character and presence, and, most markedly and eminently
of all, the gospel that is treasured in Jesus Christ and proclaimed amongst
us, have this twofold operation. God sent His Son to be the Saviour of the
world. It was meant that His mission and message should only be for life,
and that with ever-increasing abundance. But God cannot save men by magic,
nor by indiscriminate bestowment of spiritual blessings. It is not in His
power to force His salvation upon any one, and whether the Gospel shall turn
out to be a man’s salvation or his ruin depends on the man himself. The
preaching of the gospel and your contact with it, if you have ever come into
contact with it really and not by mere outward hearing, leaves no man as it
found him. My poor words—and God knows how poor I feel them to be—leave none
of you as they find you; and that is what makes our meeting together so
solemn and awful, and sometimes weighs one down as with a sense of
insufficiency for these things.
That twofold operation is seen first in the permanent effects of the Gospel
upon character. If it has been offered to me, and if I accept it, then
blessings beyond all enumeration, and which none but they who have them
fully know, follow in its wake. Received by simple faith in Jesus Christ,
God’s sacrifice for a world’s sin, it brings to us the clear consciousness
of pardon, the calm sense of communion, the joyful spirit of adoption,
righteousness rooted in our hearts and to be manifested day by day in our
lives; it brings all elevation and strengthening and ennobling for the whole
nature, and is the one power that makes us really men as God would have us
all to be.
Rejected or neglected or passed by apparently without our having done
anything in regard to it, what are the issues? What does it do? Well, it
does this for one thing, it turns unconscious worldliness into conscious
worldliness. If the offer has been clearly before your minds, ‘Christ or the
world?’ and you have said ‘I take the world!’ you know that you have made
the choice, and the act will tell on your character.
Rejection strengthens all the evil motives for rejection, and adds to the
insensibility of the man who has rejected. The ice on our pavements in the
winter time, that melts on the surface in the day and freezes again at
night, becomes dense and slippery beyond all other. And a heart, like that
which beats in some of our bosoms, that has been melted and then has frozen
again, is harder than ever it was before. Hammering that does not break
solidifies and makes tougher the thing that is struck. There are no men so
hard to get at as men and women, like multitudes of you, that have been
hammered at by preaching ever since they were children, and have not yielded
their hearts to God. The ark has done you hurt if it has not done you good.
I do not dwell upon the other solemn thought, of the harmful results of
contact with a gospel which we do not accept, as exemplified in the increase
of responsibility and the consequent increase of condemnation. I only quote
Christ’s words, ‘The servant that knew his Lord’s will, and did it not,
shall be beaten with many stripes.’
My brother, Christ’s gospel is never inert, one thing or other it does for
every soul that it reaches. Either it softens or it hardens. Either it saves
or it condemns. ‘This Child is set for the rise or for the fall of many.’
Jesus Christ may be for me and for you the Rock on which we build. If He is
not, He is the Stone against which we stumble and break our limbs. Jesus
Christ may be for you and for me the Pillar that gives light by night to
those on the one side; He either is that, or He is the Pillar that sheds
darkness and dismay on those on the other. Jesus Christ and His Gospel may
be to each of us ‘the savour of life unto life’; He either is that, or He is
‘the savour of death unto death.’ Oh! dear friends, if you have neglected,
turned away, delayed to receive Him or have forgotten impressions in the
midst of the whirl of daily life, do not do so any longer. Take Him for
yours, your Brother, Friend, Sacrifice, Inspirer, Lord, Aim, End, Reward,
and very Heaven of Heaven. Take Him for your own by simple trusting; and say
to Him, ‘Arise! O Lord, into Thy rest, Thou and the Ark of Thy strength.’ So
He will come into your hearts and smile His gladness as He whispers: ‘Here
will I dwell for ever; this is My rest, for I have desired it.’
2 Samuel 7:4-16 The Promised King and
Temple-Builder
‘And it came to pass that night, that the word of the Lord came unto
Nathan, saying, 5. Go and tell My servant David, Thus saith the Lord, Shalt
thou build Me an house for Me to dwell in! 6. Whereas I have not dwelt in
any house since the time that I brought up the children of Israel out of
Egypt, even to this day, but have walked in a tent and in a tabernacle. 7.
In all the places wherein I have walked with all the children of Israel
spake I a word with any of the tribes of Israel, whom I commanded to feed My
people Israel, saying, Why build ye not Me an house of cedar! 8. Now
therefore so shalt thou say unto My servant David, Thus saith the Lord of
hosts, I took thee from the sheepcote, from following the sheep, to be ruler
over My people, over Israel: 9. And I was with thee whithersoever thou
wentest, and have cut off all thine enemies out of thy sight, and have made
thee a great name, like unto the name of the great men that are in the
earth. 10. Moreover I will appoint a place for My people Israel, and will
plant them, that they may dwell in a place of their own, and move no more;
neither shall the children of wickedness afflict them any more, as
beforetime, 11. And as since the time that I commanded judges to be over My
people Israel, and have caused thee to rest from all thine enemies. Also the
Lord telleth thee that He will make thee an house. 12. And when thy days be
fulfilled, and thou shalt sleep with thy fathers, I will set up thy seed
after thee, which shall proceed out of thy bowels, and I will establish His
kingdom. 13. He shall build an house for My name; and I will establish the
throne of His kingdom for ever. 14. I will be his father, and He shall be my
son. If he commit iniquity, I will chasten Him with the rod of men, and with
the stripes of the children of men: 16. But My mercy shall not depart away
from Him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away before thee. 16. And thine
home and thy kingdom shall be established for ever before thee: thy throne
shall be established for ever.’— 2 Samuel 7:4-16
The removal of the ark to Jerusalem was but the first step in a process
which was intended to end in the erection of a permanent Temple. The time
for the next step appeared to David to have come when he had no longer to
fight for his throne. Rest from enemies should lead to larger work for God,
else repose will be our worst enemy, and peace will degenerate into
self-indulgent sloth. A devout heart will not be content with personal
comfort and dwelling in a house of cedar, while the ark has but a tent for
its abode. There should be a proportion between expenditure on self and on
religious objects. How many professing Christians might go to school to
David! Luxury at home and niggardliness in God’s work make an ugly pair,
but, alas! a common one.
Nathan approved, as was natural. But he knew the difference between his own
thoughts and ‘the word of the Lord’ that came to him, and, like a true man,
he went in the morning and contradicted, by God’s authority, his own
precipitate sanction of the king’s proposal. Clearly, divine communications
were unmistakably distinguishable from the recipient’s own thoughts.
The divine message first negatives the intention to build a house. In 1
Chronicles a positive prohibition takes the place of the question in verse 5
, but that is only a difference of form, for the question implies a negative
answer. From David’s last words (1 Chron. 28:3) we learn that a reason for
the prohibition was ‘because thou art a man of war, and hast shed blood.’
His wars were necessary, and tended to establish the kingdom, but their
existence showed that the time for building the Temple had not come, and
there was a certain incongruity in a warrior king rearing a house for the
God whose kingdom was in its essence peace.
The prohibition rests on a deep insight into the nature of Jehovah’s reign,
and draws a broad distinction between His worship and the surrounding
paganism. But the reason given in the text is very remarkable. God did not
desire a permanent Temple. If we may so say, He preferred the less solid
Tabernacle, as corresponding better to the simplicity and spirituality of
His worship. A gorgeous stone Temple might easily become the sepulchre,
rather than the shrine, of true devotion. The movable tent answered to the
temporary character of the ‘dispensation.’ The more fixed and elaborate the
externals of worship, the more danger of the spirit being stifled by them.
The Old Testament worship was necessarily ceremonial, but here is a caveat
against the stiffening of ceremonial into stereotyped formalism.
The prohibition was accompanied by gracious and far-reaching promises,
designed to assure David of God’s approbation of his motive, and to open up
to him the vision of the future and the wonders that should be. We need say
little about the retrospective part of the message ( verses 8, 9 a ). God
had been the agent in all David’s past, had lifted him from the quiet
following of his sheep, had given him rule, which was but a delegated
authority. Israel was ‘My people,’ and therefore he was but an instrument in
God’s hand, and was not to govern by his own fancies or for his own
advantage.
Every devout man’s life is the realisation of a plan of God’s, and we sin
against ourselves as well as Him if we do not often let thankful thoughts
retrace all the way by which the Lord our God has led us.
With verse 9 b the prophecy turns to the future. David personally is
promised the continuance of God’s help; then a permanent, peaceful
possession of the land is promised to the nation, and finally the perpetuity
of the kingdom in the Davidic line is promised. The prophecy as to the
nation, like all such prophecies, is contingent on national obedience. The
future of the kingdom will stand in blessed contrast with the wild times of
the Judges, if—and only if—Israel behaves as ‘My people’ should.
But the main point of the prophecy is the promise to David’s ‘seed.’ In form
it attaches itself very significantly to David’s intention to build a house
for Jehovah. That would invert the true order, for Jehovah was about to
build a house, that is, a permanent posterity, for David. God must first
give before man can requite. All our relations to Him begin with His free
mercy to us. And our building for Him should ever be the result of His
building for us, and will, in some humble way, resemble the divine
beneficence by which it has been quickened into action. The very foundation
principles of Christian service are expressed here, in guise fitted to the
then epoch of revelation.
But the relation of the two things, God’s building and Solomon’s, is not
exhausted by such considerations. The consolidation of the monarchy in
David’s family was an essential preliminary to the rearing of the Temple.
That work needed tranquil times, abundant resources, leisure, and assured
dominion. So the prophet goes on to promise that David shall be succeeded by
his ‘seed,’ who shall build the Temple.
Further, three great promises are given in reference to David’s seed,— a
perpetual kingdom, a personal relation of sonship to Jehovah, and paternal
chastisement, if necessary, but no such departure of Jehovah’s mercy as had
darkened the close of Saul’s sad reign. Then, finally, the assurance is
reiterated of the perpetuity of David’s house and throne. The remarkable
expression in verse 16 , ‘established before thee’ (that is, David), if it
is the true reading, suggests a hint of the life after death, and conceives
of the long-dead king as in some manner cognizant of the fortunes of his
descendants. But the Septuagint reads ‘before Me,’ and that reading is
confirmed by verses 26 and 29 , and by Psalm lxxxix. 36 b .
Now it is clear that these promises were in part directed to, and fulfilled
in, Solomon. But it is as clear that the great promise of an eternal
dominion, which is emphatically repeated thrice, goes far beyond him. We are
obliged to recognise a second meaning in the prophecy, in accordance with
Old Testament usage, which often means by ‘seed’ a line of successive
generations of descendants. But no succession of mortal men can reach to
eternal duration.
Apart from the fact that the kingdom, in the form in which David’s
descendants ruled over it, has long since crumbled away, the large words of
the promise must be regarded as inflated and exaggerated, if by ‘for ever’
is only meant ‘for long generations.’ A ‘seed,’ or line of perishable men,
can only last for ever if it closes in a Person who is not subject to the
law of mortality. Unless we can with our hearts rejoicingly confess, ‘Thou
art the King of glory, O Christ! Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,’ we
do not pierce to the full understanding of Nathan’s prophecy.
All the glorious prerogatives shadowed in it were but partially fulfilled in
Israel’s monarchs. Their failures and their successes, their sins and their
virtues, equally declared them to be but shadowy forerunners of Him in whom
all that they at the best imperfectly aimed at and possessed is completely
and for ever fulfilled. They were prophetic persons by their office, and
pointed on to Him.
He has built the true Temple, in that His body is the seat of sacrifice and
of revelation, and the meeting-place of God and man, and inasmuch as through
Him we are built up into a spiritual house for an habitation of God. In Him
is fulfilled the great prophecy of ‘My Servant the Branch,’ who ‘shall build
the Temple of the Lord’ and ‘be a Priest upon His throne.’ In Him, too, is
fulfilled in highest truth the filial relationship. The Israelitish kings
were by office sons of God. He is the Son in ineffable derivation and
eternal unity of life with the Father, and their communion is in closest
oneness of will and mutual interchange of love. In that filial relation lies
the assurance of Christ’s everlasting kingdom, for ‘the Father loveth the
Son, and hath given all things into His hand.’
The prophecy is echoed in many places of Scripture, and is ever taken to
refer to a single person. The angel of the annunciation molded his
salutation to the meek Virgin on it, when he declared that her Son ‘shall be
called the Son of the Most High: and the Lord God shall give unto Him the
throne of His father David: and He shall reign over the house of Jacob for
ever; and of His kingdom there shall be no end.’
2 Samuel 7:18-29 David's Gratitude
Then went king David in, and sat
before the Lord, and he said, Who am I, O Lord God? and what is my house,
that Thou hast brought me hitherto? 19. And this was yet a small thing in
Thy sight, O Lord God; but Thou hast spoken also of Thy servant’s house for
a great while to come. And is this the manner of man, O Lord God? 20. And
what can David say more unto Thee? for Thou, Lord God, knowest Thy servant.
21. For Thy word’s sake, and according to Thine own heart, hast Thou done
all these great things, to make Thy servant know them. 22. Wherefore Thou
art great, O Lord God: for there is none like Thee, neither is there any God
besides Thee, according to all that we have heard with our ears. 23. And
what one nation in the earth is like Thy people, even like Israel, whom God
went to redeem for a people to Himself, and to make Him a name, and to do
for you great things and terrible, for Thy land, before Thy people, which
Thou redeemedst to Thee from Egypt, from the nations and their gods? 24. For
Thou hast confirmed to Thyself Thy people Israel to be a people unto Thee
for ever: and Thou, Lord, art become their God. 25. And now, O Lord God, the
word that Thou hast spoken concerning Thy servant, and concerning his house,
establish it for ever, and do as Thou hast said. 26. And let Thy name be
magnified for ever, saying, The Lord of hosts is the God over Israel; and
let the house of Thy servant David be established before Thee. 27. For Thou,
O Lord of hosts, God of Israel, hast revealed to Thy servant, saying, I will
build thee an house: therefore hath Thy servant found in his heart to pray
this prayer unto Thee. 28. And now, O Lord God, Thou art that God, and Thy
words be true, and Thou hast promised this goodness unto Thy servant: 29.
Therefore now let it please Thee to bless the house of Thy servant, that it
may continue for ever before Thee: for Thou, O Lord God, hast spoken it: and
with Thy blessing let the house of Thy servant be blessed for ever.’— 2
Samuel 7:18-29
God’s promise by Nathan of the perpetuity of the kingdom in David’s house
made an era in the progress of revelation. A new element was thereby added
to devout hope, and a new object presented to faith. The prophecy of the
Messiah entered upon a new stage, bearing a relation, as its successive
stages always did, to the history which supplies a framework for it. Now,
for the first time, He can be set forth as the king of Israel; now the width
of the promise, which at first embraced the seed of the woman, and then was
limited to the seed of Abraham, and thereafter to the tribe of Judah, is
still further limited to the house of David. The beam is narrowed as it is
focused into greater brilliance, and the personal Messiah begins to be
faintly discerned in words which are to have a partial, preparatory
fulfilment, in itself prophetic, in the collective Davidic monarchs whose
office is itself a prophecy. This passage is the wonderful burst of praise
which sprang from David’s heart in answer to Nathan’s words. In many of the
Psalms later than this prophecy we find clear traces of that expectation of
the personal Messiah, which gradually shaped itself, under divine
inspiration, in David, as contained in Nathan’s message But this
thanksgiving prayer, which was the immediate reflection of the astounding
new message, has not yet penetrated its depth nor discovered its rich
contents, but sees in it only the promise of the continuance of kingship in
his descendants. We do not learn the fulness of God’s gracious promises on
first hearing them. Life and experience and the teaching of His Spirit are
needed to enable us to count our treasure, and we are richer than we know.
This prayer is a prose psalm outside the Psalter. It consists of two
parts,—a burst of astonished thanksgiving and a stream of earnest petition,
grasping the divine promise and turning it into a prayer.
I. Note the burst of thanksgiving (2 Samuel 7:18-24)
The ark dwelt ‘in curtains,’ and into the
temporary sanctuary went the king with his full heart. The somewhat peculiar
attitude of sitting, while he poured it out to God, has offended some
punctilious commentators, who will have it that we should translate
‘remained,’ and not ‘sat’; but there is no need for the change. The
decencies of public worship may require a posture which expresses devotion;
but individual communion is free from such externals, and absorbed
contemplation naturally disposes of the body so as least to hinder the
spirit. The tone of almost bewildered surprise at the greatness of the gift
is strong all through the prayer. The man’s breath is almost taken away, and
his words are sometimes broken, and throughout palpitating with emotion. Yet
there is a plain progress of feeling and thought in them, and they may serve
as a pattern of thanksgiving. Note the abrupt beginning, as if pent-up
feeling forced its way, regardless of forms of devotion. The first emotion
excited by God’s great goodness is the sense of unworthiness. ‘I do not
deserve it,’ is the instinctive answer of the heart to any lavish human
kindness, and how much more to God’s! ‘I am not worthy of the least of all
the mercies,’ springs to the devout lips most swiftly, when gazing on His
miracles of bestowing love. He must know little of himself, and less of God,
who is not most surely melted down to contrition, which has no bitterness or
pain in it, by the coals of loving fire heaped by God on his head.
The consciousness of unworthiness passes, in verse 19 , to adoring
contemplation of God’s astounding mercy, and especially of the new element
in Nathan’s prophecy,—the perpetuity of the Davidic sovereignty in the dim,
far-off future. Thankfulness delights to praise the Giver for the greatness
of His gift. Faith strengthens its hold of its blessings by telling them
over, as a miser does his treasure. To recount them to God is the way to
possess them more fully.
The difficult close of the verse cannot be discussed here. ‘The law for man’
is nearer the literal meaning of the words than ‘the manner of men’ (Rev.
Ver.); and, unfortunately, man’s manner is not the same as man’s law. But
the usual explanations are unsatisfactory. We would hazard the suggestion
that ‘this’ means that which God has spoken ‘of thy servant’s house,’ and
that to call it ‘the law for man’ is equivalent to an expression of absolute
confidence in the authority, universality, and certain fulfilment of the
promise. The speech of God is ever the law for man, and this new utterance
stands on a level with the older law, and shall rule all mankind. The king’s
faith not only gazes on the great words of promise, but sees them triumphant
on earth.
Then in 2 Samuel 7:20 comes another bend of the stream of praise. The more full
the heart, the more is it conscious of the weakness of all words. The
deepest praise, like the truest love, speaks best in silence. It is blessed
when, in earthly relations, we can trust our dear ones’ knowledge of us to
interpret our poor words. It is more blessed when, in our speech to God, we
can feel that our love and faith are deeper than our word, and that He does
not judge them by it, but it by them.
‘Silence is His least injurious praise.’
Here, too, we may note the two instances, in this verse, of what runs
through the whole prayer,—David’s avoidance of using ‘I.’ Except in the
lowly ‘What am I?’ at the beginning, it never occurs; but he calls himself
‘David’ twice and ‘Thy servant’ ten times,—a striking, because unconscious,
proof of his lowly sense of unworthiness.
But he can say more; and what he does further say goes yet deeper than his
former words. The personal aspect of the promise retreats into the
background, and the ground of all God’s mercy in His ‘own heart’ fills the
thoughts. Some previous promise, perhaps that through Samuel, is referred
to; but the great truth that God is His own motive, and that His love is not
drawn forth by our deserts, but wells up by its own energy, like a perennial
fountain, is the main thought of the verse. God is self-moved to bless, and
He blesses that we may know Him through His gifts. The one thought is the
central truth, level to our apprehension, concerning His nature; the other
is the key to the meaning of all His workings. All comes to pass because He
loves with a self-originated love, and in order that we may know the motive
and principle of His acts. We can get no farther into the secret of God than
that. We need nothing more for peaceful acceptance of His providences for
ourselves and our brethren. All is from love; all is for the manifestation
of love. He who has learned these truths sits at the centre and lives in
light.
2 Samuel 7:22 strikes a new note. The effect of God’s dealing with David is to
magnify His name, to teach His incomparable greatness, and to confirm by
experience ancient words which celebrate it. The thankful heart rejoices in
hearsay being changed into personal knowledge. ‘As we have heard, so have we
seen.’ Old truths flash up into new meaning, and only he who tastes and sees
that God is good to him to-day really enters into the sweetness of His
recorded past goodness.
Note the widening of David’s horizon in 2 Samuel 7:23 and 24 to embrace all
Israel. His blessings are theirs. He feels his own relation to them as the
culmination of the long series of past deliverances, and at the same time
loses self in joy over Israel’s confirmation as God’s people by his
kingship. True thankfulness regards personal blessings in their bearing on
others, and shrinks from selfish use of them. Note, too, the parallel, if we
may call it so, between Israel and Israel’s God, in that ‘there is none like
Thee,’ and by reason of its choice by this incomparable Jehovah, no nation
on earth is like ‘Thy people, even like Israel.’
Thus steadily does this model of thanksgiving climb up from a sense of
unworthiness, through adoration and gazing on its treasures, to God’s
unmotived love as His impulse, and men’s knowledge of that love as His aim,
and pauses at last, rapt and hushed, before the solitary loftiness of the
incomparable God, and the mystery of the love, which has intertwined the
personal blessings which it celebrates, with its great designs for the
welfare of the people, whose unique position corresponds to the
unapproachable elevation of its God.
II. 2 Samuel 7:25 to 29 are prayer built on promise and winged by
thankfulness.
The whole of these verses are but the
expansion of ‘do as Thou hast said.’ But they are not vain repetitions.
Rather they are the outpourings of wondering thankfulness and faith, that
cannot turn away from dwelling on the miracle of mercy revealed to it
unworthy. God delights in the sweet monotony and persistence of such
reiterated prayers, each of which represents a fresh throb of desire and a
renewed bliss in thinking of His goodness. Observe the frequency and variety
of the divine names in these verses,—in each, one, at least: Jehovah God (
v. 25 ); Jehovah of hosts ( v. 26 ); Jehovah of hosts, God of Israel ( v. 27
); Lord Jehovah ( vs. 28, 29 ). Strong love delights to speak the beloved
name. Each fresh utterance of it is a fresh appeal to His revealed nature,
and betokens another wave of blessedness passing over David’s spirit as he
thinks of God. Observe, also, the other repetition of ‘Thy servant,’ which
occurs in every verse, and twice in two of them. The king is never tired of
realising his absolute subjection, and feels that it is dignity, and a
blessed bond with God, that he should be His servant. The true purpose of
honour and office bestowed by God is the service of God, and the name of
‘servant’ is a plea with Him which He cannot but regard. Observe, too, how
echoes of the promise ring all through these verses, especially the phrases
‘establish the house’ and ‘for ever.’ They show how profoundly David had
been moved, and how he is labouring, as it were, to make himself familiar
with the astonishing vista that has begun to open before his believing eyes.
Well is it for us if we, in like manner, seek to fix our thoughts on the yet
grander ‘for ever’ disclosed to us, and if it colours all our look ahead,
and makes the refrain of all our hopes and prayers.
But the main lesson of the prayer is that God’s promise should ever be the
basis and measure of prayer. The mould into which our petitions should run
is, ‘Do as Thou hast said.’ Because God’s promise had come to David,
‘therefore hath Thy servant found in his heart to pray this prayer unto
Thee.’ There is no presumption in taking God at His word. True prayer
catches up the promises that have fallen from heaven, and sends them back
again, as feathers to the arrows of its petitions. Nor does the promise make
the prayer needless. We know that ‘if we ask anything according to His will,
He heareth us’; and we know that we shall not receive the promised
blessings, which are according to His will, unless we do ask. Let us seek to
stretch our desires to the width of God’s promises, and to confine our
wishes within their bounds.
2 Samuel 9:1-13 David and Jonathan's Son
‘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 9:1-13
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 sp