Spilled Water - 2 Samuel 14.14
We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God will not take away life, and he devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast.
We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God will not take away life, and he devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast.
The foregoing proverb reveals a profound insight into the Hebrew’s understanding of man, sin and God. However, to appreciate the magnitude of what is being said one may profit from a familiarity with the larger context of the story. David’s firstborn son, Amnon (son of Ahinoam), had successfully conspired to rape his half sister Tamar, the full-blooded sister of Absalom (the son of Maacah). As might be expected, Absalom was furious with Amnon. But rather than dealing with this crime in an open and forthright manner, Absalom sequestered his sister away - essentially protecting the “family honor” – while he patiently plotted to kill his brother for violating their sister. What David’s feelings were regarding Amnon’s sin we do not know; we only know that for two years he did nothing (perhaps David’s previous sinful liaison with Bathsheba made him somewhat morally impotent in respect to his son’s wickedness). A full two years after Tamar had been violated; Absalom invited all his brothers to the annual sheep shearing at Baal Hazor. Sheep shearing was a major social event accompanied by festive merrymaking. The fact that Amnon accepted his brother’s invitation is an indication that he thought the great rift between them was beginning to heal. Absalom, on the other hand, recognized this as his opportunity to exact revenge on his brother. He had ordered his men to kill Amnon at the end of the day when, along with everyone else, his mind and actions would be clouded with the effects of too much wine. Knowing that this was a capital crime, even though the act was completed by another man’s hand, he took refuge with his Talmai (the father of King David’s wife Maachah, Absalom’s grandfather) in Geshur, which was located East of the Sea of Galilee.
David was, in some sense, caught between several compelling forces. On the one hand he is the king, and as such was obligated to uphold the law and administer justice and punish Absalom and his conspirators for their murderous deed. However, he had himself failed morally when he had ignored the viciousness of Amnon’s incestuous raping of Tamar. The consequence of his moral ineptitude cost him the life of his firstborn son. Now he has lost Absalom who has, for the sake of his own preservation, been living in a self-imposed exile for the past three years. David, it appears had come to grips with Amnon’s death, and he now longed to be reunited with his estranged son. Chapter 13 ends with a poignant image of David’s conflicted heart: And the spirit of the king longed to go to Absalom, for he was consoled concerning Amnon’s death.
Joab, the commander of David’s army and devoted servant (albeit at times self-willed), conceived of a plan (as only Joab could) to give the king an excuse for doing what he wanted to do anyway. He sent for a woman from Tekoa who was known for being clever (and one may suspect her acting ability) and instructed her in the details of a ruse to appeal to the impulsive and emotional heart of David. Whether she was a true widow or not, we cannot know, but per Joab’s instructions she presented herself to David as a woman bereft of any family save her one son who was guilty of killing his brother. (Images of Cain and Abel come readily to mind in the this narrative. In Genesis 4 we read that Cain was expelled from God’s presence; a rootless nomadic, forever estranged from his father.) The pseudo-widow beseeches David to overrule the law and nullify the decision of the clan to exact blood for blood. She claimed that there were extenuating circumstances: there were no witnesses to the crime; it was not premeditated; the widowed mother’s sole support depended on her son; and this son is the only means for preserving the lineage for their family. (What is ironic, and somewhat duplicitous in this appeal, is that Joab, who concocted this story, was guilty of the ruthless murder of Abner. Abner, you may recall, killed Joab and Abishai’s brother Asahel in self-defense. Moreover, David was responsible, through the complicity of Joab, for killing Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband). All that aside, David’s sympathies were immediately aroused by the woman’s story and he assured her that if she would go home he would issue an order on her behalf. However, this is not enough for the woman. Having laid the trap and induced the king to waive justice’s demands and absolve her guilty son, she now pressed the king for his personal vow of protection for her son. David responded on cue, If anyone says anything to you, bring him to me, and he will not bother you again. … “As surely as the Lord lives,” he said, “not one hair of your son’s head will fall to the ground” (2 Sam 14.10, 11).
As one studies the entire narrative it becomes apparent that there is chiastic symmetry to the story that may be outlined as follows:
A. Joab "knew" (14:1).
B. Joab instructs the wise woman (14:2-3).
C. The woman makes a request of the king (14:4-5a).
D. She makes her first appeal (14:5b-10).
E. She successfully pleads for her son's life (14:11).
D'. She makes her second appeal (14:12-17).
C'. The king makes a request of the woman (14:18-19a).
B'. She admits that Joab has instructed her (14:19b).
A'. The king "knows" (14:20 [Ronald Youngblood, EBCOT: 2 Samuel 14:1]).
Let us not, at least for now, concern ourselves with the ill-fated outcome of Absalom and the grief he caused his father, but rather focus our attention on the important truths evident in the woman’s utterance.
Absalom had been banished from the presence of the king. It is not unreasonable to see an analogical connection between Absalom’s relationship with his father and the banishment of mankind from Eden; even though this may not have been the author’s intended purpose. Adam’s sin resulted in everyone being expelled from the presence of God. The first half of the oracle is a frightening reminder of mankind’s mortality: that like the water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. There is an all too common identity with the estrangement between Absalom and David: fathers alienated from their sons. Those familiar with the life of David will immediately recall his sinful liaison with Bathsheba; how he despised the word of the Lord by doing what was evil in God’s eyes (2 Samuel 12.9). He was himself subject to the law and was, because of his sin, estranged from God (Psalm 51.9; cp. Lamentations 3.31). He, as you know, repented and appealed to the Lord not to be forever banished from His presence: Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me (Psalm 51.12; 103.9-12). God, in His great mercy, devised a way to restore David to Himself (cp. Ephesians 1.4-10). Scripture declares that one cannot come near to God unless he is far removed from sin. Your sins have separated you from God; your crimes have hidden his face from you so that He will not hear you (cp. Isaiah 59.2). God does not desire that mankind live outside of fellowship with Himself: such isolation is always self-inflicted. God does not drive men away from Himself; to the contrary, men flee the holy character of God.
The woman tells us what every student of Scripture knows: that God yearns to restore banished sinners to Himself. What she does not tell us however, is the means whereby that restoration occurs. Namely, that it is not merely a matter of forgiving and forgetting the sin as though such sin was of little consequence. The woman’s words: God will not take away life, is demonstrably false. God frequently requires the forfeiture of an unrepentant sinner’s life. However, it is not his desire that sinners should perish; i.e., Say to them, ‘As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel’ (Ezekiel 33.11)? Those who will not repent of their sins will surely die! Just as David was responsible to administer law and justice (I am not constrained to believe that he always did so, but he was responsible for it), so too, God’s law, which is derived from His holy person, must be accounted for. His love and grace encourages us to seek His forgiveness. Just as Absalom’s offense did not alter the filial relationship with his father, neither do our offenses alter the fact that we are recipients of God’s general grace, availed by all mankind. All men bear the stamp of God’s image in creation. But, God desires something more; He longs for a restored fellowship between Himself and His children. However, the restoration of this fellowship has some inherent obstacles.
These obstacles are very great indeed. Consider the consequence to a society whose magistrates freed unrepentant criminals. Such wanton behavior would not be a matter of indiscriminate mercy, but an act of social chaos. Without justice a civil society cannot long endure; the judicial foundation of such a government is threatened by the inequity of such magistrates (“The judge is condemned when the guilty is acquitted” [The Edinburgh Review]). God’s perfect law demands a perfect penalty and it may not be abrogated. It is not arbitrary; it is a perfect reflection of the holy character of God and therefore every violation impugns His character and requires just recompense. So, in short, what David did on behalf of Absalom, God would not - indeed, could not - do on behalf of David.
The solution for David’s reconciliation with God, indeed, for everyone’s reconciliation, is radically different than that inadequate provision made by David on Absalom’s behalf. David essentially ignored Absalom’s sin and invited him to return home. After an extended period of time and some additional questionable activities by Absalom, he was given an audience with his father. There is a kind of forgiveness that, by its very nature, seems to encourage the very crimes it pardons. Such was the sort of forgiveness that David’s fiat of absolution produced in Absalom. Consequently, he remained a petulant, unrepentant and rebellious son. David, on the other hand, was restored to fellowship with God through a work of grace that involved more than God coming to grips with David’s sin and letting time heal His wounded heart. David was forced to confront the reality of his sin, and the holy character of God. Resulting in a broken heart that led to repentance and a change of behavior. David’s forgiveness was rooted in this confrontation with God (Psalm 51) and his acceptance of God’s grace: he turned away from sin to teach transgressors your ways (cp. Psalm 51.13).
The forgiveness that God offers is rooted in His willingness, not merely to pardon a sinful man, but to pay the price required to purchase his redemption. Alexander MacClaren states it well:
God has to “devise means,” which is a strong way of saying, in analogy to the limitations of humanity, that He cannot, by an arbitrary act of His will, pardon a sinful man. His eternal nature forbids it. His established law forbids it. The fabric of His universe forbids it. The good of men forbids it. The problem is insoluble by human thought. The love of God is like some great river that pours its waters down its channel, and is stayed by a black dam across its course, along which it feels for any cranny through which it may pour itself. We could never save ourselves, but “He that might the vengeance best have took, found out the remedy.” (MacClaren Expositions of Holy Scripture, pp. 81-82)
It is, of course, the cross of Christ that is the means that God breaks down the walls of separation. “And there is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been give among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4.12).
David was, in some sense, caught between several compelling forces. On the one hand he is the king, and as such was obligated to uphold the law and administer justice and punish Absalom and his conspirators for their murderous deed. However, he had himself failed morally when he had ignored the viciousness of Amnon’s incestuous raping of Tamar. The consequence of his moral ineptitude cost him the life of his firstborn son. Now he has lost Absalom who has, for the sake of his own preservation, been living in a self-imposed exile for the past three years. David, it appears had come to grips with Amnon’s death, and he now longed to be reunited with his estranged son. Chapter 13 ends with a poignant image of David’s conflicted heart: And the spirit of the king longed to go to Absalom, for he was consoled concerning Amnon’s death.
Joab, the commander of David’s army and devoted servant (albeit at times self-willed), conceived of a plan (as only Joab could) to give the king an excuse for doing what he wanted to do anyway. He sent for a woman from Tekoa who was known for being clever (and one may suspect her acting ability) and instructed her in the details of a ruse to appeal to the impulsive and emotional heart of David. Whether she was a true widow or not, we cannot know, but per Joab’s instructions she presented herself to David as a woman bereft of any family save her one son who was guilty of killing his brother. (Images of Cain and Abel come readily to mind in the this narrative. In Genesis 4 we read that Cain was expelled from God’s presence; a rootless nomadic, forever estranged from his father.) The pseudo-widow beseeches David to overrule the law and nullify the decision of the clan to exact blood for blood. She claimed that there were extenuating circumstances: there were no witnesses to the crime; it was not premeditated; the widowed mother’s sole support depended on her son; and this son is the only means for preserving the lineage for their family. (What is ironic, and somewhat duplicitous in this appeal, is that Joab, who concocted this story, was guilty of the ruthless murder of Abner. Abner, you may recall, killed Joab and Abishai’s brother Asahel in self-defense. Moreover, David was responsible, through the complicity of Joab, for killing Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband). All that aside, David’s sympathies were immediately aroused by the woman’s story and he assured her that if she would go home he would issue an order on her behalf. However, this is not enough for the woman. Having laid the trap and induced the king to waive justice’s demands and absolve her guilty son, she now pressed the king for his personal vow of protection for her son. David responded on cue, If anyone says anything to you, bring him to me, and he will not bother you again. … “As surely as the Lord lives,” he said, “not one hair of your son’s head will fall to the ground” (2 Sam 14.10, 11).
As one studies the entire narrative it becomes apparent that there is chiastic symmetry to the story that may be outlined as follows:
A. Joab "knew" (14:1).
B. Joab instructs the wise woman (14:2-3).
C. The woman makes a request of the king (14:4-5a).
D. She makes her first appeal (14:5b-10).
E. She successfully pleads for her son's life (14:11).
D'. She makes her second appeal (14:12-17).
C'. The king makes a request of the woman (14:18-19a).
B'. She admits that Joab has instructed her (14:19b).
A'. The king "knows" (14:20 [Ronald Youngblood, EBCOT: 2 Samuel 14:1]).
Let us not, at least for now, concern ourselves with the ill-fated outcome of Absalom and the grief he caused his father, but rather focus our attention on the important truths evident in the woman’s utterance.
Absalom had been banished from the presence of the king. It is not unreasonable to see an analogical connection between Absalom’s relationship with his father and the banishment of mankind from Eden; even though this may not have been the author’s intended purpose. Adam’s sin resulted in everyone being expelled from the presence of God. The first half of the oracle is a frightening reminder of mankind’s mortality: that like the water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. There is an all too common identity with the estrangement between Absalom and David: fathers alienated from their sons. Those familiar with the life of David will immediately recall his sinful liaison with Bathsheba; how he despised the word of the Lord by doing what was evil in God’s eyes (2 Samuel 12.9). He was himself subject to the law and was, because of his sin, estranged from God (Psalm 51.9; cp. Lamentations 3.31). He, as you know, repented and appealed to the Lord not to be forever banished from His presence: Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me (Psalm 51.12; 103.9-12). God, in His great mercy, devised a way to restore David to Himself (cp. Ephesians 1.4-10). Scripture declares that one cannot come near to God unless he is far removed from sin. Your sins have separated you from God; your crimes have hidden his face from you so that He will not hear you (cp. Isaiah 59.2). God does not desire that mankind live outside of fellowship with Himself: such isolation is always self-inflicted. God does not drive men away from Himself; to the contrary, men flee the holy character of God.
The woman tells us what every student of Scripture knows: that God yearns to restore banished sinners to Himself. What she does not tell us however, is the means whereby that restoration occurs. Namely, that it is not merely a matter of forgiving and forgetting the sin as though such sin was of little consequence. The woman’s words: God will not take away life, is demonstrably false. God frequently requires the forfeiture of an unrepentant sinner’s life. However, it is not his desire that sinners should perish; i.e., Say to them, ‘As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel’ (Ezekiel 33.11)? Those who will not repent of their sins will surely die! Just as David was responsible to administer law and justice (I am not constrained to believe that he always did so, but he was responsible for it), so too, God’s law, which is derived from His holy person, must be accounted for. His love and grace encourages us to seek His forgiveness. Just as Absalom’s offense did not alter the filial relationship with his father, neither do our offenses alter the fact that we are recipients of God’s general grace, availed by all mankind. All men bear the stamp of God’s image in creation. But, God desires something more; He longs for a restored fellowship between Himself and His children. However, the restoration of this fellowship has some inherent obstacles.
These obstacles are very great indeed. Consider the consequence to a society whose magistrates freed unrepentant criminals. Such wanton behavior would not be a matter of indiscriminate mercy, but an act of social chaos. Without justice a civil society cannot long endure; the judicial foundation of such a government is threatened by the inequity of such magistrates (“The judge is condemned when the guilty is acquitted” [The Edinburgh Review]). God’s perfect law demands a perfect penalty and it may not be abrogated. It is not arbitrary; it is a perfect reflection of the holy character of God and therefore every violation impugns His character and requires just recompense. So, in short, what David did on behalf of Absalom, God would not - indeed, could not - do on behalf of David.
The solution for David’s reconciliation with God, indeed, for everyone’s reconciliation, is radically different than that inadequate provision made by David on Absalom’s behalf. David essentially ignored Absalom’s sin and invited him to return home. After an extended period of time and some additional questionable activities by Absalom, he was given an audience with his father. There is a kind of forgiveness that, by its very nature, seems to encourage the very crimes it pardons. Such was the sort of forgiveness that David’s fiat of absolution produced in Absalom. Consequently, he remained a petulant, unrepentant and rebellious son. David, on the other hand, was restored to fellowship with God through a work of grace that involved more than God coming to grips with David’s sin and letting time heal His wounded heart. David was forced to confront the reality of his sin, and the holy character of God. Resulting in a broken heart that led to repentance and a change of behavior. David’s forgiveness was rooted in this confrontation with God (Psalm 51) and his acceptance of God’s grace: he turned away from sin to teach transgressors your ways (cp. Psalm 51.13).
The forgiveness that God offers is rooted in His willingness, not merely to pardon a sinful man, but to pay the price required to purchase his redemption. Alexander MacClaren states it well:
God has to “devise means,” which is a strong way of saying, in analogy to the limitations of humanity, that He cannot, by an arbitrary act of His will, pardon a sinful man. His eternal nature forbids it. His established law forbids it. The fabric of His universe forbids it. The good of men forbids it. The problem is insoluble by human thought. The love of God is like some great river that pours its waters down its channel, and is stayed by a black dam across its course, along which it feels for any cranny through which it may pour itself. We could never save ourselves, but “He that might the vengeance best have took, found out the remedy.” (MacClaren Expositions of Holy Scripture, pp. 81-82)
It is, of course, the cross of Christ that is the means that God breaks down the walls of separation. “And there is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been give among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4.12).