The Red-Eyed Beast: Ambition

The narrative presents Absalom as one who apes at kingship without experiencing divine anointing, undergoing tough battles, or being tested in the fire. We have a name for Absalom in today’s language: a “wannabe.” He wants to be king, but he has neither the maturity nor the wisdom to do so.

Attempting to be someone or something we are not ready or equipped to be leaves us frustrated and exposed. Such a charade does not satisfy, but it does reveal someone acting silly. Attempting to be someone we are not actually exposes our lack of understanding of both God and ourselves. We aren’t satisfied with who we are because we don’t know who God has made us to be.

This was Absalom’s problem. He wanted what he wanted but didn’t want what God wanted for his life or his people. He was not satisfied with his father David (warts and all!), and as a result he ended up trying to pretend to be David, the king. He was a wannabe. There are some basic ways we can assess whether we are wannabe believers. It may be helpful to run your life through the following assessment:

When we look at Absalom in the narrative, we see immediately his view of people. When he is at the gate, he stops people from going to the true king (David) for just judgment. He sits at the gate and says, “Oh hello, my dear, dear friend, my brother! What ails you? My, my, that is a fix, and someone should do something! Yes, of course you are in the right! Well, I wish I could do something for you, but you know, David’s on his throne, and well, things don’t really get done with him. If only I were a judge here, I could help you out” (cf. vv. 3-6).

The narrative in the original language makes pretty clear that Absalom is being disingenuous. He does not care one whit about the people to whom he speaks. As chapters 15–20 make clear, much less verses 7-12 in this chapter, Absalom did what he did for three reasons: (1) to steal allegiance from David, (2) to make people think he cared, and (3) to build support for his eventual coup. Frankly, the people of the city—we might add they were real people with real problems—remain unimportant to Absalom except insofar as they are a means to help him achieve his ends. Do you know what people are as far as Absalom is concerned? People are tools. Tools for him to use as he wants. But once he has finished using them, he can toss them aside. Do you know anyone who treats others in that way?

Maybe we use people in the same way. (God forbid!)This could take place at work, where we use people to get what we want rather than treating them as real, genuine people who are created and loved by God.

Maybe this message hits home with parents who use the behavior of children to make others think what great parents we are. Or we use the sports or academic achievements of our children as trophies for others to admire. The joy in those situations lies not in what the children have achieved; the joy lies in the acclaim we receive from those who are impressed. In this scenario our children become tools that feed parental ego.

For those in the workplace, we could use people in various ways. As an employer we might be tempted to overwork our employees (sometimes with little or no pay!) so that the employer can get the promotion or save a dollar for maximum profit. In this case employees are not real, live people created by God and worthy of dignity and respect. By contrast our actions reveal that we view them as tools we can use and throw away, like a screwdriver or paper cup. Why do we do this? We want our kingdom rather than God’s kingdom!

Memorials testify to a person or event. Absalom was set on erecting a memorial for himself rather than pointing to Yahweh and His plan through the Davidic king. In verse 6 we discover some chilling words: “So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel.” The question we must ask is this: In what way did Absalom “steal” people’s hearts? To steal on a biblical reckoning means to take from someone something that does not belong to me. So if that is true, then Absalom has stolen the minds and wills of the people, which do not belong to him.

To whom do the hearts of the people belong? In the immediate context the hearts and minds of the people belong to David, Yahweh’s anointed and appointed king. But we must take this further. The book of Samuel, particularly from 2 Samuel 7 onward, reveals that God’s reign and His kingdom flow through His anointed and appointed king. As we have seen, 2 Samuel 7 confirms that Yahweh established David as king, the one who rules under the authority of the Lord. The king and his family, then, are to point the people back to Yahweh, His reign, and His ways. So David is not just a political leader; he reminds the people who God is.

When Absalom steals the hearts and minds of the men of Israel, he does more than just a political act. He draws the people away from their devotion to God and God’s ways.

Absalom was more concerned with his own name being known and remembered than with God’s name being known and remembered. That plan always ends in disaster. For Absalom it meant losing his father, his friends, and eventually his life. More than that, he led people away from God’s plan. Yahweh chose King David to rule, and from his family and royal throne, Jesus would come. Absalom, by trying to make his name known rather than God’s, showed himself to be in direct contrast to what God was up to.

Henri Nouwen, that distinguished Christian thinker, said this in his wonderful book In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership: “It seems easier to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people, easier to own life than to love life” (58–59). This is so true for those of us who have faced down the red-eyed beast of ambition. We use people, and own them, and attempt to be God to set up a memorial to ourselves. We think of how our actions impact and increase our own name before we think of how our actions increase and impact the name of the Lord. Absalom’s life is an example of a tragic life where ambition has gone terribly wrong.

So if we want to “tame” the beast of ambition, what do we do? We must discover the clue to real life: Jesus Christ. God is not a cosmic killjoy. God is the one who brings us life and forgiveness. He provides this forgiveness and life in Jesus. In Jesus, like a treasure amid darkness, we discover our true selves. In Jesus the apostle Paul describes who we become as “a new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). What does that mean? It means that in Jesus we are forgiven of sin and find our real life and purpose in life. The mark of the “wannabe” is replaced with the confidence and peace of knowing who we are in Jesus. In Jesus, we discover the wonder of real relationships—loving people and treating them as we would like to be treated. People then are not resources for us to use but rather individuals of intrinsic worth, worthy of friendship and relationship. In Christ we can overcome using people for what we want and instead learn what it means to partner with people in building life together. Finally, in Jesus, we discover the satisfaction that comes from living for something greater than yourself—for a NAME greater than your own.

Henri Nouwen, whom I mentioned earlier, is an immensely fascinating person. He hit the heights of the academic world. He taught at Harvard, Yale, and Notre Dame. He was a brilliant man, but he discovered that achieving these ambitions left him empty, restless. He discovered, however, a home and joy in life not in the heights of human achievement but rather in the difficulty of what is called a L’Arche community. L’Arche communities are little groups of people living all over the world. They are communities of people with disabilities, both physical and mental.

On a media program from 1989, Nouwen spoke about his journey to L’Arche, and he said this:

One of the things that I am becoming aware of more and more is that from the very beginning of my life there have been two voices. One voice saying, “Henri, be sure you make it on your own, be sure you can do it yourself, be sure you become an independent person. Be sure that I can be proud of you.” And, another voice saying, “Henri, whatever you are going to do, even if you don’t do anything very interesting in the eyes of the world, be sure you stay close to the heart of Jesus, be sure you stay close to the love of God.” You can sort of guess which voice was whose. But, I guess we all hear these voices to some degree—the voice that calls you upward and says, “Make something of your life, be sure you have a good career.” Then, a voice that says, “Be sure you never lose touch with your vocation.” There is a little bit of a struggle there, a tension. (“Journey to L’Arche”)

The key to killing the red-eyed beast of ambition is this: to be captured by the gospel and to stay close to the heart of Jesus. Set Jesus on display. We must make it our ambition that “He must increase” and we must decrease (John 3:30).