The Season of Pentecost
June 11, 2006
“Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea”
(2 Sam 18:5-15,31-33)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Among all of David’s kids, the most spectacularly gifted and most like David himself, was Absalom. Looking at Absalom for David, was like looking in a mirror 30 years earlier. Every inch the prince, he exuded the royalty bestowed upon him by his father. “In all Israel, there was none so praised for his beauty as Absalom. From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head, he was without blemish” (2 Sam. 14:25).

But good looks are often accompanied by arrogant attitudes. So it’s not surprising that father and son, found themselves in a deadly love-hate relationship. One tried to hold on too long. The other tried to grow up too soon. With 3 ½# of hair, Absalom was too handsome for his own good. And he paid a price for wanting-what-he-wanted-when-he-wanted-it. Then too, Absalom’s father seemed to either be spoiling him rotten or reading him the riot act. So David was a great leader in Israel, but not at home; as perplexed by his dynamic youngster as Jesse was of him. He wanted Absalom to succeed. But not if it meant Dad had to step-down. No longer the “ruddy-faced” youth, David was stuck in the shoals of middle-age. So deeply that he couldn’t step aside and make way for the next generation. Not if his son’s ascent, meant his own descent.

As a ruler, David was without peer. A solid nation builder; good at kinging. But lousy at fathering. And even worse at husbanding. The adulterous Bathsheba affair set off a chain reaction of domestic woes, which had negative repercussions in his family the rest of his life. David was “a man after God’s own heart,” but he did little to win his children’s hearts. He was too interested in affairs with the ladies and the affairs of state to personally get involved with steering them toward “the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”

So Absalom murdered his brother Amnon, for raping his sister Tamar. When the old war-horse Joab wouldn’t help him make a mends with David, Absalom took a cue from Samson, and set fire to Joab’s field! After that, Absalom began to view himself as the country’s deliverer as he found fault with his father. There was plenty to go around. But this is a kid who’s better at imitating than listening. All Israel found Absalom’s kind of derring-do irresistible, of course. And when he finally led a revolt against his legendary Daddy, a lot of them took his side: “Absalom stole the hearts of all Israel” (2 Sam. 15:6).

On the eve of battle, David found himself on the spot. Because he stood a good chance of losing the throne. But he was even more afraid of losing his son. The boy was both a thorn in his side and the apple of his eye. That’s why before the fighting began, David took great pains to instruct his commanders: “Take it easy on the young man Absalom.”

Remembering his “burned-out hay field,” Gen. Joab kept his fingers crossed when he swore! Instead, he relied on the simplistic, militaristic view of people – for whom Absalom was not a son. Just an enemy. Unfortunately it was Joab who found the young man hanging by his hair in an oak tree. And ran-him-through without batting an eye! When the runner broke the news to the King, it broke his heart.

And like Jesus wept over Jerusalem, David cried over Absalom: “... would that I could gather you in...” That cry of desperation was the lament of one who had to live with sad memories and wasted opportunities, that he couldn’t go back and correct. It was a cry from a father who hung his son out to dry long before he got his hair hung in the tree. Son and father drifted apart, until neither was finally able to close the breach that led to the death of one of them.

David lived on. But thereafter, could measure the remainder of his days only in terms of his loss. We’ve not heard King David grieve like this! Over his full life-span, it’s quite a contrast to the confident swagger of his youthful, giant-killing days. In those days David had the world on a sling.

Absalom was next in line for the throne. So he knew it would eventually be his to claim. But he was another one of those prodigals who couldn’t wait for it. And plotted against his inheritance. By so doing, he lost it all. Now he’s dead. And David’s caught between-the-devil-and-the-deep-blue-sea. A stark reminder of the regret families feel over what-might-have-been-but-is-never-to-be. David had to preserve his kingdom, but the cost was higher than he could ever imagine. “O Absalom, my son, would that I had died instead of you!” At least part of him probably meant that. David was the kind of guy who’d fight for his son, but not father him. What Dad, hasn’t wished he could stand-in for his children and absorb the blows life lays on them? But they have to do their own living...and their own dying.

I don’t think there’s any lesson to be learned from this. Other than to be sad. Can we see ourselves in it? Even in the best families, there’s remorse. Nobody escapes relational failure. Not in real life. Children disappoint us. Parents make mistakes. Spouses cheat. David paid the price. Even Jesus’ family thought he was crazy.

It’s not unusual for children to rebel and undercut their parent’s values. David was torn between his job and his family. As king, he had to secure the nation. But he also loved his son. That’s what blinded him to what Joab could see -- Absalom was a threat to national security. “Deal kindly for my sake with the young man Absalom” he cautioned his generals. This is a compassionate father talking redemption. Not a military warrior talking victory. There’s no winner because David was his father. And that’s the ground for David’s grief. If we don’t care, we won’t cry. If we don’t love, there’ll be no lamentations. Without the affection, there’s only emptiness, when a relationship is ruptured. But David wept out loud, overcome with wrenching emotion. His broken heart evaporated the energy from his soul. And he would never again feel the unreserved joy he knew as a shepherd-boy.

After Joab wasted Absalom, he reminded David that the people needed him. He was still the king. Minus a son, but still king. So he was called back from dealing with his family tragedy to his public responsibility, in spite of that big empty hole in his heart. Life goes on. Maybe at a slower pace, with tear stains on the midnight pillow, as private hurt seeks to publicly mend itself.

It’s hard to assess blame in this story. No moralizing about Absalom’s impatience. Or Joab’s ruthlessness. Or David’s misplaced priorities. It just ends with the wail of a king: “O my son. I wish I’d died instead of you.” If David could’ve done the boy’s dying for him, he would have. If the father could’ve paid the price of his son’s betrayal, he would’ve paid it. If he could’ve given his own life to bring his son back again, he would’ve given it. That’s why he was Israel’s greatest king.

Whether he was a good leader or a bad one–I’ll leave it to you to decide. I think he was both. But if we remember him as a hero, I hope it won’t be because of the giant he killed, or the Jerusalem he built, or the psalms he sang, or the wars he won. In spite of his flaws, there’s something about David that made God smile. When Nathan the prophet confronted him with, “Thou art the man!” he took it to heart. That’s what made him “a man after God’s own heart.” He found forgiveness and made a new start. But the pain from the consequences of his actions lingered on the rest of his days.

Isn’t this a story about what you do when you did something you wish you’d never done? Don’t do it in the 1^st place, because you won’t get there any faster, just because you push. The story shows how we live in a complex web of relationships with God, one another and all creation, that responds to the choices we make. Church helps us make good choices, life-giving decisions. When we do that, even the trees clap their hands! But when we make death-dealing decisions, the trees reach out and grab us by the hair!

Ethical acts have concrete consequences just as physical ones do. Drop a rock out a window and it’ll fall to the ground. Neglect your kids and they will suffer. But neither King David nor any of us is morally autonomous. There are realities governing our life together that we can’t keep resisting without repercussions sooner or later. Sometimes life gets so tangled, father can’t fix it, nor can anybody else. Even a powerful king.

For the real fix, we have to turn to the New Testament--where a cross was raised outside of Jerusalem one Friday. Whose incumbent was a beloved Son, strung up--not by his hair but by rusty nails; not because of his rebellion against his Father, but because of our rebellion against his Father.

Instead of acting like the grimly-efficient General Joab, who went against David’s clear orders--thrusting darts through the heart, that always brings life to a tragic end–Jesus forgives. And that allows for life to go on, despite the tragedies we encounter. And that’s the only hope I see in this.

Give me fathers like that and watch the impact it makes on our world. David was a father who would’ve sacrificed his own life for his son. But he wouldn’t give him the time of day when it mattered.

At Calvary, we see a Father who sacrificed his Son for us for all eternity. Through the cross and resurrection, God confers new standing of “forgiven sinner” upon every modern father-son combination who accepts it! A king, of course, can’t do that. But God can.

Pastoral Prayer: Heavenly Father, we gather as a family of faith on Youth Sunday, to celebrate the importance of good parenting in a generation that’s better at home-breaking than home-making. We thank you for the gift of memory, and the influence of ages past on ages yet to come. We thank Thee for giving us a place to belong; for creative connections that bind us to others.

We praise you for all who strive to build a good home life; for the good parents in our world, who love their kids, sacrifice on their behalf, teach them to be like Jesus, lift them when they fall, and plant within them the desire to make something out of themselves. We feel the pain of David the King, in his grief over the lost opportunity to be a responsible parent to his rebellious son Absalom. It reminds us of so many who are stuck in bad homes, with parents who neglect their children because they care about other things more.

Our homes can make us, or break us. So be with all who are hurting in our homes, for whatever reason. Those who are not just sinners, but sinned against, who have been battered and abandoned; who have not found any person to care for them. Convinced that those they can see don’t care, they find it hard to believe that God cares either. May the acceptance and affirmation people get from our church instill in all of us the faith to believe we can overcome the bad things that happened in our homes; and not go through life using that as an excuse to explain why we’re the way we are.

We concentrate our prayers on the youth of this world, we’ve handed down to them, who hold in common the prospect of a puzzling and uncertain future. May they continue to question old ways and customs; to hope and work for the abolition of stubborn wrongs. May our church endow them with confidence in the scriptures; the wisdom to withstand the false gods of status & success; and a love for Christ that will shape their thoughts and actions.

Let us never forget that if we would take God’s kingdom seriously, we must never take our homes lightly. Amen.