The King in Exile

2 Samuel 16–18

Main Idea: Rebellion against God’s Messiah is painful and destructive, but such rebellion will not last.

1. A Blessing and a Curse
2. A Tragic Victory
3. From David and Absalom to You and Me

Absalom is not finished. Fresh off of his triumphant victory, he stages an X-rated scene atop the palace, sleeping with several of David’s concubines “in the sight of all Israel” (2 Sam 16:22). This was not an act of voyeurism so much as a statement of power. Absalom wanted to publicly humiliate David, to make patently clear that he had stolen his father’s kingdom. In so doing, he reenacts—and heightens—David’s sin with Bathsheba, stealing everything from another man and sleeping with that man’s wife. Even the location is identical.

A Blessing and a Curse

Meanwhile, David is fleeing from Absalom, weeping as he goes. The confident warrior who stood up to Goliath is now a self-pitying shell of his former self. Two figures emerge in David’s flight: Ziba and Shimei. Ziba has no business being a blessing to the defeated David. But he recognizes the authority of the Lord’s anointed and helps him.

But David receives cursing as well as blessing. During his retreat David endures the curses and physical abuses of Shimei, who taunts David over his fresh wounds. “The Lord has handed the kingdom over to your son Absalom,” Shimei screams at David, all the while hurling stones at him. “Look, you are in trouble because you’re a murderer!” (2 Sam 16:8). David accepts the scorn, wondering if perhaps this is God’s lot for him: “He curses me this way because the Lord told him, ‘Curse David!’” (v. 10).

There may be a sliver of humility in David’s admission, but David’s comment here flies in the face of God’s previous declarations. We ought not commend David for trust in God’s sovereignty so much as castigate him for forgetting God’s promises. After all, God had promised blessing, not cursing, to David. In no uncertain terms God told him that his kingdom could never be taken away—that, in fact, it would be an everlasting kingdom. David’s sin, though it would lead to brutal consequences, was taken away, and his soul was washed with hyssop, made whiter than snow.

At this point, however, David seems to have forgotten this. Or, if he remembers it, he simply does not believe it. The truth of God’s promises carries less weight in his life than the guilt complex he continues to nurse as he plods away from the city, the throne, and the kingdom God had promised him.

A Tragic Victory

Revolutions rarely end well, and Absalom’s is no exception. What follows in 2 Samuel 17–18 is a scene of David’s victory but a victory that is soured by tragedy and regret.

Largely due to the support of other generals and leaders, David is encouraged to turn back and fight for his kingdom. As swiftly as Absalom ascended the throne, he was forced to abandon it, running for his life through the wilderness. David’s men, eager to avenge their king and their own humiliation, naturally desire to kill Absalom the usurper. But David is beginning to see Absalom less as a usurper and more as a son. “Treat the young man Absalom gently for my sake,” he tells his soldiers (18:5).

The orders are clear, but they prove powerless. While fleeing through the forest, Absalom gets stuck in a tree by his hair, suspended in full view of the oncoming soldiers, completely vulnerable. Joab, knowing full well that David had given orders to spare Absalom’s life, flouts David’s command. For years he had been the chief advocate of reconciliation between the two, but he had reached a breaking point. So even while the other soldiers beg him to stop, Joab runs Absalom through with three javelins. The revolution is over, and David is once again king.

But there will be no rejoicing in this victory. News of Absalom’s death reaches David, and it seems, for the first time, David realizes what he has lost.

The king was deeply moved and went up to the gate chamber and wept. As he walked, he cried, “My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son!” (18:33)

It is almost impossible to represent the intensity of emotion in this verse. Throughout this entire episode David has not once called Absalom “son.” And now, only now at his death, the word comes pouring out from his lips again and again and again. David is finally feeling the emotion of a father, but it is too late. All he has left are memories tainted by bad decisions, regret, and missed opportunities.

And so ends the tragic story of David and his son Absalom.

From David and Absalom to You and Me

Whenever reading through the narratives of the Bible, it is helpful to regularly stop and ask, “Why is this story in here?” One answer to this question, of course, is always, because this actually happened. But Scripture does not merely give us history lessons. It also demands that we learn from them. So what is there for contemporary readers in this dark and tragic cycle of destruction?

We must not be too quick simply to moralize David and Absalom. Yes, it is true that men should be proactive in their families. Yes, it is true that sin is so damaging we should avoid it at all costs. But before those pieces of good advice can be helpful, they have to be situated within the context of good news. We must see David’s story in the bigger picture of Jesus and the gospel. King David was not the perfect king that Israel—and we—needed. Jesus was.

Absalom’s rebellion may fill us with disgust, but spiritually speaking, we are all Absalom. We have rebelled against a God and Father more pure and holy than David, stolen His kingdom for ourselves, and publicly humiliated Him on the rooftops of our lives. We deserve the shameful fate of Absalom.

And yet God does not dole out what we deserve. Absalom returned to his father, but his father refused even to meet him at the gate. How different is our Father’s response to us! Jesus told a story about a son, much like Absalom, who had sinned against his father and publicly shamed him. But when that son returned home, the father ran to meet him. The prodigal son could not even finish his apology before his father was pouring out forgiveness. This is our God, pouring out forgiveness even before we fully see the stain of our sin.

The Father’s forgiveness, though freely given, came at enormous cost. When Absalom died, David cried out, vainly wishing he could have died in his place. What David longed to do for Absalom, God accomplished for us. Jesus Christ went to the cross to die in our place, an act of love that should remind us of David’s heartfelt cry, “My son, my son!” In the death of Christ, God was saying to us, “My son! My daughter! Do you know how much I love you? My child, I am dying in your place!” Jesus did for us, His sons and daughters, what David could not do for his own. Absalom died hanging in a tree with a spear for his rebellion thrust through his heart; Jesus died on a tree with a spear for our rebellion thrust through His.

Seeing this, the gospel of Jesus’ sacrifice for us, is the only vision that can change us. Warnings about following David’s footsteps may frighten us; words of advice about raising the right family may equip us; but only seeing Christ on the tree gives us the power to break the cycle of sin. What is more, the cross gives us the capacity to hope in the midst of painful circumstances, even if we caused those circumstances ourselves.

God, you see, was not finished with David. The promise of an eternal kingdom had never ceased being true. And despite his many failings, despite tragedy on tragedy, God would use David to raise up the greatest King and Savior Israel would ever know. The consequences of David’s sin ran deep, but the plans and promises of God ran deeper.

Nor is God finished with us. Many of us are suffering from the direct consequences of our sin—a broken marriage, an estranged son or daughter, a body crippled from drug use. Sin’s effects are strong in our lives, but the grace of God is stronger. And while He may not remove those consequences, we can say with David, “Only goodness and faithful love will pursue me all the days of my life” (Ps 23:6). Our sin, if we are in Christ, is not the final word for us. So to the thief, the abuser, the divorcee, the adulterer, God says, “And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Cor 6:11, author’s emphasis). Our past sins may plague us, but in Christ they have no more power to define us.

David knew God’s goodness in his life. He knew God had a plan for him, a plan to prosper him and not to harm him. He knew, albeit dimly, the majestic love of the gospel. But he allowed the contrary words of his circumstances to be louder in his life. God had spoken forgiveness and healing to David, but he was all too quick to believe Shimei’s curses. He need not have ignored his past sins to answer Shimei. There was no need to pretend that the Bathsheba incident never occurred or that David was sinless. He could still have spoken with strength and conviction, the conviction that comes from a sinner saved by grace.

Our sin may lead to devastating consequences, but we must never let it shut our mouths. Many of us feel that because we sin—and others know it—we can never speak into their lives with moral authority or conviction. This would be true if our authority rested on our righteousness. But we speak as ones redeemed. Thus our words are not, “Be like me!” but rather, “Look to Christ!” And the more we see our sin, the more we can say to others, “Join me, and let’s run to Christ together.” The grace-saturated soul is the only one that can speak both with authority and without arrogance. Grace frees us from the paralysis of guilt to the possibility of true community.

All of us are Absalom. But it is no foregone conclusion that we end where he did. God’s grace is available to break the power of cancelled sin, to set the prisoner free. We know this because we have felt it ourselves: “His blood can make the foulest clean, His blood availed for me” (Charles Wesley, “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” 1739). The cross forgives our past; the resurrection re-creates our future. And this gospel delivers us in the present to the power of new life.

Reflect and Discuss

1. How does this passage help you understand God?
2. How does this passage of Scripture exalt Jesus?
3. Ziba and Shimei both offer words to David. What is the difference in their speech?
4. In what ways do we use the language of Ziba or Shemei to bless or curse others? In what ways do we use our words to bring honor or shame to our Savior?
5. In David’s flight from Jerusalem, how did he fail to trust in God’s provision? Does God desire to curse the messiah or bless him?
6. Why do you think Absalom rebelled and caused a revolution? Be specific in your response.
7. In what ways does the failure of the Davidic family press us to see the grace of God despite human frailty?
8. How do Absalom’s death and David’s dirge help us see Jesus?
9. If you are in Jesus but are facing the consequences of sin, what does it do for your heart to know that those adverse consequences are not the final word on your life? Jesus has spoken a better word for the future!
10. How can our experience of sin and consequences be brought to the church as gifts God can use to build His people?