David as King: Who Is Giving to Whom?

2 Samuel 7

Main Idea: The Davidic covenant reveals that Yahweh has blessed David to be a blessing; those who bless him will be blessed, and those who curse him will be cursed.

1. Who Needs a House, Anyway?
2. The Davidic Covenant and God’s Everlasting House
3. David’s Response: Humility and Gratitude in the House of God
4. Four Principles for House Building
   1. The Grace Principle
   2. The Giving Principle
   3. The Disappointment Principle
   4. The Kingdom Principle

Introduction

One of the most troubling words in the English language is the word enough. Many of us are plagued by whether we’ve been good enough, worked hard enough, or loved our families enough. And if we start applying that tricky word to our relationship with God, things get even messier. How much is enough for God?

Here’s a confession you won’t often hear from a pastor: I (J. D.) spent a lot of my Christian life feeling overwhelmed by guilt over what I was not doing in the kingdom of God. It’s not that I wasn’t committed to Jesus, living a sacrificial life, or intensely busy for the kingdom. I was. There was just always so much more to be done, and the needs of the world were crushing me. I would start off really zealous but end up feeling paralyzed, toggling between summers of feverish activity and winters of guilt and fatigue.

Speakers would come along talking about the needs in the world, telling me how people who really care about Jesus would be involved meeting those needs. I heard about the sex trade and decided to do everything I could to free those poor kids. I heard about more and more unreached people groups so I went on mission trips—a lot of mission trips.

But it never seemed to be enough. There was always one more child to rescue, one more people group to reach. And the more I poured myself out for cause after cause, the more I felt guilty.

How could I keep any money for my own enjoyment when so many in the world remained lost? If the price of a cup of coffee could really feed an Indian orphan for a week, was it ever right for me to have a cup of coffee? And why did I need a hot shower? Should I take only cold showers and free up another $20 a month to house another refugee?

I used to think I was alone in this, but I’ve grown to see that many, if not most, Christians feel like this. It may not be as extreme as my experience, but many believers are asking, “Is it possible to know what God specifically wants from me? Is it possible to know I’ve done enough? Can I even know—for sure—how to get back on good terms with God?”

None of these questions are new. In fact, they are precisely the questions that prompt the story in 2 Samuel 7, one of the most famous Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah. There is no need to separate “deep doctrine” from “real-life questions.” As Scripture shows us, our most pressing, heartfelt questions are answered by the deepest biblical truths.

Who Needs a House, Anyway?

At this point David is now—finally—established as the king of Israel. He hasn’t had much time to sit back and ponder until this point, since he was busy challenging oversized Philistines to rock-throwing contests, running away from Saul, and hiding in caves. But now the kingdom is stable, David’s enemies have been routed, and the land is prospering and at “rest” (v. 1).

So one night after dinner, David is sitting out on his back porch, chatting with Nathan, the priest—essentially, the nation’s pastor. And as they sip on their decaf coffees, David looks over the city of Jerusalem. His eyes fall on the tabernacle, just outside his palace. The tabernacle, we recall, was the tent God had told Israel to build so that His presence could dwell with them. By this point, however, the tabernacle was a few hundred years old. It wasn’t as swanky as when Israel first built it.

So David gets an idea (v. 2). “You know, Nathan, this doesn’t seem right. I live in this ridiculously nice house. But God lives in a dingy old tent. Can we do something about that?” Well, how do you think Nathan responded? Exactly like any pastor would when a wealthy man comes to him, ready to do something for the kingdom of God. “Sounds great, king! Drop a check off, and we’ll start building!”

The next part, however, doesn’t usually happen (vv. 4-11). If nothing else, this little story proves the existence of God. That’s the only thing I can imagine that would explain a pastor going back to a wealthy donor and saying, “Don’t bother giving me your money.” At least, I’ve never seen it happen.

So God explains why He rejects David’s offer with three points.

First is what theologians call “the incarnational principle.” God wants to be in the same condition His people are in. If God’s people are in tents, God will be in a tent, too. And when they are wandering or homeless or in pain, He wants to be among them. He wants to dwell with them and share in their condition.

Second, God pokes a bit of fun at David, pointing out that He doesn’t particularly need a physical residence. “You think I’m worried about My accommodations down there, David? Cedar doesn’t much impress Me. My streets, after all, are made of gold.” Or, as God says in Psalm 50, “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and everything in it is Mine” (Ps 50:12). In other words, “David, if I needed a nicer place to live, I wouldn’t have to come asking you for funding.”

Third, and most important, God flips David’s script. Look at that passage and see who the actor is. David isn’t in the driver’s seat; God is. David was concerned about God’s house and wanted to build Him a new one. Like many of us today, he thought of God as a cause in need of good supporters (and financial backers). So he was going to give and give big. But God won’t have it. “I am the giver,” God declares, “and you are the receiver. I am never the debtor; you will always be indebted to Me.” The house of God’s salvation, in other words, will be constructed entirely by God.

But at this point God lifts David’s eyes to see something greater than a house. David had been thinking of building God a house. But what God offers to do instead would never have entered David’s mind to ask.

The Davidic Covenant and God’s Everlasting House

In the introduction to this volume, we saw that 2 Samuel 7 demarcates the covenant God makes with David and his household. The Davidic covenant appears in 7:8-16. Although “covenant” language does not appear here, it does in 23:5, where David rehearses the fact that God made with him an “everlasting covenant” (berit‘olam), which no doubt draws us back to 2 Samuel 7. Finally, David’s son, Solomon, reiterates the covenant in 1 Kings 3:6-9 and 8:23-24, highlighting the point that both David and his dynastic successor understood the divine promises recorded in 2 Samuel 7 as nothing short of an eternal covenant.

The Davidic covenant clearly builds from the Abrahamic and Israelite covenants, as we have seen in the introduction (pp. 23–27). Some similarities between the Abrahamic, Israelite, and Davidic covenants draw them together, revealing how God’s redemptive story progresses:

Similarities between Covenants

The Davidic covenant, then, continues the story of God’s redemption. God’s kingdom will be manifested most clearly under the rule of the Davidic king. The king will only be successful in so far as he rules in accordance with, and under, the rule of the Lord God. And how he knows if he is following God’s rule is by virtue of the stipulations of the Israelite covenant! David himself recognized as much. He wants to make a temple where God’s people can worship the Lord forever (following the pattern of Exodus and Leviticus).

He pensively asks the prophet Nathan how he can live in a palace when God, the Creator of the universe, lives in a tent (2 Sam 7:2). David wants a place of worship for his people so that all can come to adore the true King of Israel and the God of creation.

William Dumbrell highlights the significance of the verse as it leads into the heart of the Davidic covenant. King David understands “that his own kingdom will not be established nor will his own line endure, unless divine rule is acknowledged appropriately within Israel” (Dumbrell, Covenant and Creation, 219). So the Davidic king becomes, at his best, an exemplar for worship and piety among God’s people. Moreover, when he is successful, the Davidic king drives God’s people to worship the true God of the universe. So it is not surprising that the book of Psalms regularly returns to the feature of Israel’s Davidic king as a leader in worship of God.

The book of Psalms also emphasizes the rule of the Davidic king over all nations with justice and equity. This international flavor of the Davidic covenant is best seen in Psalm 2 (specifically Ps 2:7-11), but it appears throughout the Psalter as well (see Pss 18:40,43-49; 72:8; 89:35-36; 132:11-12; see the discussion of Wenham, The Psalter Reclaimed, 161–86). The Davidic reign over Israel and the nations, however, in the final analysis indicates nothing less than the reign of God (or the kingdom of God). As McCann summarizes, “The Psalms proclaim God’s reign and invite persons to live under God’s rule” (A Theological Introduction, 49). The Davidic covenant is God’s way in which He will achieve His kingdom among all nations.

But note the title the text gives to David. God appoints David as a “prince” (v. 8 ESV) who rules over all peoples under the authority of the great King, God Himself.^[10]The language of “prince” is important. God’s people wanted a “king” (melek) like all the other nations (1 Sam 8:5). But what does God actually give them? He gives them a nagid, translated “ruler” or “prince” (1 Sam 9:16; 2 Sam 7:8). The “king” whom God and Samuel conceived always and ever remained a “prince.” This “prince” lived in service to the real and true King of Israel, Yahweh. The narrative presents the real King as Yahweh, and the king of Israel is His nagid. Who is the true King of Israel? God. Who is the nagid of Israel? It is the appointed and anointed servant. This is, according to the narrative, not Saul (1 Sam 10–15). Saul’s fall opens the reader up for the rise of the true prince, the Davidic ruler.

One of the key terms God uses to describe the Davidic king is the Hebrew word mashiach, “anointed one” (or “messiah”). It stems from David’s “anointing” in the shepherds’ fields in and around Bethlehem (1 Sam 16). There God anoints David (through the prophet Samuel) for kingship (see also 2 Sam 12:7). The anointed king of Israel has a sacred role among God’s people as their leader and exemplar in fidelity to God (see 1 Sam 24:6,10; 26:9-23; 2 Sam 7). The special role of the messiah-king is captured in David’s words: “[God] is a tower of salvation for His king; He shows loyalty to His anointed, to David and his descendants forever” (2 Sam 22:51). David’s words echo the Davidic covenant and Israelite covenant, but they highlight the special place of Israel’s messiah who stands in relationship with God.

Israel’s messiah brings the promised “rest” of creation to fruition. We consider it interesting and significant that God promises David “rest” in the land of promise (2 Sam 7:10-11). The importance of this connection lies in the fact that the goal of the seventh day (the kingdom of God!) will come to fruition at least in part through David and the Davidic line. The development of the theme of rest, which we have seen in Genesis 2 and 6, finds its way through David. This is good news because it shows God’s commitment to bring the kingdom to bear through David’s lineage, which we will see is fulfilled in Jesus Christ (Heb 4).

But until the advent of Jesus, how well did the Davidic kings do with their special role and responsibilities? Overall, not so well, as we saw with the reign of Israel’s first king, Saul! By the mid-sixth century BC, no Davidic king sat on the throne, which indicated a terrible reality. The writers of Samuel and Kings suggested that the failure of the Davidic line was not the failure of God but rather the failure of the king in terms of his fidelity to God. Despite this, God would preserve the Davidic line well into the future, leading to a Good Shepherd to rule over God’s kingdom.

In later books like 1–2 Chronicles, the biblical writers anticipated that there would be a king who would not be like the old kings. He would be, true to the Davidic covenant, in the line of David. But He would not be like David or Solomon. He would be a good king who ever lived to pray, to worship, and to lead God’s people with justice and equity. The good king was like all God’s people: those who would know and love and worship God in His kingdom. This king would rule over Israel and, indeed, over all nations. Together, both Israelite and non-Israelite would serve the Lord with gladness.^[11]

As time went by, the Davidic king became more and more important for Israel. The reason is probably because there really was no king that was perfect in justice and righteousness, so God’s people looked for a king that would meet God’s requirements for justice and righteousness. Indeed, God’s people began to anticipate a coming king that would deliver them from oppression, even from their sin.

When we understand the failure of Israel’s kings and the promise of the coming king who would rule under God’s authority, read once again:

“When your time comes and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up after you your descendant, who will come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He will build a house for My name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he will be a son to Me. When he does wrong, I will discipline him with a human rod and with blows from others. But My faithful love will never leave him as I removed it from Saul; I removed him from your way. Your house and kingdom will endure before Me forever, and your throne will be established forever.” (2 Sam 7:12-16)

In the light of the broader look on the Davidic king in the Bible, it becomes clear that this is one of the most famous messianic promises. But one little detail immediately strikes a lot of readers as odd. It’s that phrase, “When he does wrong . . .” If we’re talking about Jesus here (which we are), what is this about wrongdoing? Jesus never sinned!

It is helpful to remember here that most biblical prophecies have a dual meaning. There is an immediate meaning, and then there is an ultimate one. From the perspective of the prophets, of course, it was often difficult to untie the two, but they remain distinct. Think of it like the experience of seeing a mountain range in the distance. When you first spot it, you might see two peaks, seemingly right next to each other. It’s only as you get closer that you discover that these peaks are miles apart.

The first fulfillment of this prophecy was David’s biological son, Solomon. Solomon’s reign was marked with rest from enemies and a time of prosperity, so in many ways he would exemplify this promise. His reign would extend rest throughout Israel, and on his watch Israel constructed the temple. Yes, Solomon would do some patently foolish things—some Saul-like acts, as God puts it here—like having 700 wives and worshiping idols. But even so, God keeps His promise and doesn’t strip the kingdom from him.

But Solomon is not the forever king God had promised. Perhaps people expected that he would be. But his reign ends in disappointment, with his sons sinning so badly that the nation would descend into civil war.

This prophecy points through Solomon to another King: Jesus. He was the descendant of David whose kingdom would last. He was the descendant who would establish a real temple—not a building constructed with human hands but the temple of His own body. And after His ascension He would send His Spirit to make us, His people, the temple of God.

Unlike Solomon, Jesus would not need to be disciplined with the stripes of men. Instead, He would be bruised for our iniquity, and by His stripes we would be healed. The real Son of David would build the real temple of God and establish God’s real presence with His people forever. And He would not just be David’s son. He would be God’s own Son, building the house of salvation for God’s people on earth all by Himself. Wrap your head around that: God would build His own house, and He would become the house He promised to build. In Jesus, God would be the fulfillment of His own promise.

David’s Response: Gratitude and Humility in the House of God

The Messianic promise is astounding—so astounding, in fact, that we may be tempted to miss David’s response. But here in verses 18-26 we see the story come full circle. David began this discussion wanting to go and build for God. But he ends it sitting, wondering, knowing, pondering, adoring.

This is the key to salvation. Asking, “How much is enough for God?” is the wrong starting point. Instead, salvation always starts with knowing what God has already done—which leaves us sitting in stunned awe in the presence of God. Yes, trusting Christ will lead you to do things for God. But everything you do is only ever a grateful response to what He’s done for you.

We often think the world is supposed to look at Christians and say, “What impressive works they’ve done! They must really love God.” But that aspiration can be crushing. And it’s not the biblical picture. As God shows us here, our witness to the world should leave them saying, “Wow, what great things God has done for them!”

We Christians are not primarily role models. We are trophies, works of art that demonstrate God’s saving power. No one admires a trophy for having done something great; they recognize that the trophy represents someone great. Our lives are supposed to burn brightly with evidence of God’s miraculous greatness. And ironically, the more we steep ourselves in the finished work of Christ, the more we will find His Spirit rising up within us. The fire to do in the Christian life comes only from being soaked in the fuel of what He has done.

Four Principles for House Building

The Grace Principle

David’s desire to build God a house might seem odd to contemporary readers, but it was actually a pretty common practice in the ancient world. King Tut, for instance, built a temple for the Egyptian god Amon-Ra. In exchange Amon-Ra allegedly proclaimed that King Tut would rule a kingdom that would span the globe and last for millions of years. (He fell just a few thousand miles, and a couple million years, short.)

The order is significant: (1) king builds temple for god; (2) temple makes god famous; (3) god thanks king by blessing kingdom. That’s the order of every religion in the world: work hard for me, and I’ll work hard for you. But God rejects that and reverses it. “My power establishes you, and you will always be My debtor. Your life will be lived in grateful response to Me.” The house God builds does not bear the inscription “Built by David for God” but “Built by God for David.”

Grace: it seems so simple. It’s a gift, costly for the giver, but free for the recipient. And yet this is where so many people stumble. We’re hardwired to ask, “How much is enough? How often do I need to come to church? How much money do I have to give?” Those questions will never get you to the gospel. The gospel begins with God’s extravagant gift. Jesus’ blood, and Jesus’ blood alone, is enough for your starving and dying soul.

Christianity is not about you living a good life and then giving your record to God but Jesus living the perfect life and then giving His record to you as a gift. He lived the life we were supposed to live and died the death we should have died. His life is ours but only if we receive it.

The Giving Principle

There are three main aspects to the “giving principle.”

First, God doesn’t need you. Never has. Never will. For anything. Ever. God is not now, nor was He ever, looking for “helpers” to assist Him in saving the world. That doesn’t mean He isn’t calling us to give ourselves generously to that mission, just that He’s not looking for people to supply His needs. He’s not short on money, talent, or time. He never commands us to go save the world for Him; He calls us to follow Him as He saves the world through us.

So He says to David, “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t actually need you to build Me a house.” And He might as well say to us, “I appreciate the thought, but I can get along just fine without your donation.” Salvation, from start to finish, is from God, and He requires nothing from us in the process.

Remember, Jesus went to the cross alone. It wasn’t a team effort. All His closest friends—even His heavenly Father—abandoned Him. And He walked out of the grave without any human assistance, too. There was no crash cart, no team of disciples laying on hands and praying fervently. It was just Jesus. It still is.

Consider this: Jesus’ presence was apparently so vital to our mission that He told His disciples not to even lift a finger toward the Great Commission until Jesus had sent His Spirit. Wait in Jerusalem, He said, until you receive the Holy Spirit (Luke 24:49). Millions of people around the globe are dying and going to hell; you are the only ones who know what to do about it; but I want you to sit in a room and do nothing until the Spirit comes. Jesus said, “You can do nothing without Me” (John 15:5).

Second, we should want to give back to God. We have to balance the truth that “God doesn’t need us” with this truth: God still wants us to give back. After all, David wasn’t rebuked for his attitude. God commended it: “Since it was your desire to build a temple for My name,” God says, “you have done well to have this desire” (2 Chr 6:8). David wasn’t trying to buy God off; he wanted to do something great for God because of God’s great love toward him. And if we think “God doesn’t need us” means we can just spend all our time and money on ourselves, that only proves we haven’t met the real God.

David’s heart wanted to give of itself back to the God who had given so much to him, and his heart overflowed with that. That’s precisely how we should be in response to the gospel. How can we see the riches God has poured out on us and not want to share that with others? A heart touched by the gospel will become like the gospel: overflowing with grace.

In Christ, God has given us the most precious thing in the entire universe. In Christ, He has rescued us from eternal death. We don’t give to God to earn anything. We give to God because we just can’t help but give our lives to the One who gave His life for us.

Third, we should offer ourselves to God and do what He tells us to do. When we think the weight of the world lies with our abilities and our decisions, it leads to paralysis. But when we instead offer ourselves to God, we can do what He calls us to and rest in that. As I once heard a pastor say, “Not everything from heaven has your name on it.” Our job is to figure what does have our name on it and follow the Spirit in that.

When we allow the Spirit to guide us, we can finally avoid the pressing guilt of not doing everything. We can throw ourselves into that corner of God’s mission that He leads us to instead of being torn apart by all the causes in the world.

People make two key mistakes when it comes to giving. On one hand they act like the salvation of the world lies on their shoulders. But it doesn’t. God is building the house, so grab a trowel and ask Him where He wants to build through you. On the other hand, though, are those people who have never offered themselves to God. They want to pay God off and get on with their lives, to give a 10-percent “tax” to God as a salve for their soul. But that misunderstands the great grace God has poured out on us. It puts us in the position of builder, when we need to let God set the terms.

The great saints of old didn’t try to buy God off. Nor did they try to save the world on their own. They realized they served a miraculous God who lacked for nothing. That vision gave them the courage to dream great things for God and then to attempt great things for Him.

The Disappointment Principle

David had a dream to do something for God. And God responds by saying no. Have you ever had that experience? You were pursuing a godly passion, attempting something great for God, and instead of blessing you ran into adversity. The door you thought was open slammed in your face. And unlike David you didn’t have a “Nathan” to explain to you why.

We may not always see them, but God always has reasons for our disappointments, even for our failures. Much of the time disappointments and failures act as a way of reminding us of who the real Savior is. It’s a humbling thought, but it is worth considering: God ordains many failures in our lives so that we—and other people—will make a bigger deal out of God than out of us. God knows our hearts better than we do: He knows that certain success in our lives would actually make us more full of our own pride than full of gratitude. So He lets us fall on our face because He knows it’s far more dangerous for us to be swelled up with pride than it is to suffer through the most difficult adversity in this life.

None of us likes disappointment. It’s not comfortable to be weakened and humiliated. But the path to God’s glory often comes not through our successes but through our weakness. So when God weakens us to remind us to depend on Him, it may not be easy, but it’s certainly for our good.

Or it may be that our disappointments are God’s way of shaking us out of a faulty identity. We are all tempted to find our identity in idols, in something other than God. It might be success, financial security, or family. And when we’ve built something we think is beautiful and sturdy, we think God must be pretty pleased. So God lets a room or two cave in to remind us that what defines us isn’t the house we’re building but the house He has given to us. He smashes our idols to prevent us from getting too attached, not because He wants to ruin our fun but because He knows the road of idolatry has only one end: death.

Once we accept disappointment as a tool God can use, we find both the strength to endure and the audacity to pray boldly. We can endure anything, knowing that God is a loving Father. If He tells us no, we can trust that He knows better than we do and that He cares more about our well-being than we do. But at the same time we can approach Him with boldness because we are no longer seeking victories for our sake but for His. When “Your kingdom come, Your will be done” shapes our disappointments, everything begins to change.

The Kingdom Principle

This story is all about God’s house, God’s kingdom, God’s unfolding drama. But the wonder of it all is that we are invited to share in that story. God calls us first to behold Him in wonder, but He also commissions us to go and tell. He is, as Tim Keller puts it, a spiritual cyclone, pulling people close in order to hurl them back out.

This raises the question, Are you a part of that eternal kingdom? What God told David is just as true for us. Our kingdoms will fail. Our businesses will fail. Our loftiest ambitions will fail. Even our families will not last forever. Jesus is the only thing that will last forever. And the greatest privilege of our lives is asking God to show us where we can join Jesus. He doesn’t need us, but He will use us for eternal value. He can make our miniscule lives into something beautiful, precious, and everlasting.

What greater purpose could you have than to be used in the story of God? What higher calling could there be than to follow Christ as He moves throughout the world? For far too many of us, our lives are just so small. We think of God as a personal assistant, someone to get us out of a jam. What He desires for us is so much bigger, so much richer, so much more profound than any of us realize.

But that greatness begins in humility. It is one of the extraordinary paradoxes of Christian faith: if you desire greatness for yourself, God will oppose you; but if you desire God to be great, your life will have eternal value and miraculous power. Don’t waste your life building houses for yourself, or even building houses for God. Rest in His all-sufficient work, and answer Him when He calls. Your life will never be the same.

Reflect and Discuss

1. How does this passage help you understand God?
2. How does this passage of Scripture exalt Jesus?
3. Consult the introduction of this volume once again, particularly the theological theme of covenant (pp. 23–27). How does this text fit within the story of the covenants in Scripture?
4. In what ways is the Davidic covenant related to the other covenants? Write down your thoughts and be specific.
5. In what ways does God “outbuild” David?
6. In what ways have you seen God “outbuild” you, whenever you make the effort to do something great for Him? Write down your thoughts.
7. What does this passage teach us about God’s plan, God’s grace, and God’s love?
8. How does this passage help us understand that God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble?
9. Have you, like David, completely offered yourself to the One who can and will build your house? Why or why not?
10. Do you believe disappointments in life are a tool God can use to change you? What disappointments are you experiencing today that He can use? Ask Him to transform your disappointment to joy and purpose.