Question
Manuscript
Message
The Father’s Heart
by Joshua J.
2 Samuel 18
Since the title of this conference is “The Father’s Heart,” I thought we could start this morning with Jesus’ words about God the Father and human fathers.
This comes from Matthew 7:9-11.
“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”
The main difference between the Father God and human fathers? We are evil. God is not.
These past couple of years have been revealing ones for me. More specifically, I see what Jesus means here. I am more evil than I had realized. In my seven years of teaching in Chicago, I had come to see myself as a faultless teacher. After having taught on the eastside of Austin for a year and a half now, I realized it’s more accurate to say I had great students. I didn’t realize my heart was capable of such anger. In the same way, I thought I was a wonderful father. Then I realized it was just that my kids didn’t know how to talk yet. Or walk around. Or have their own opinion. Jesus is right. I am evil. I often shock myself – how short my temper is, how mean I can get. I am evil. But also, as Jesus said, I know how to give good gifts to my children. I want to give them the world.
Today, we’re studying the story of a human father, David. He, like all earthly fathers, fell short in many ways. We can say that his actions or his lack of actions caused a lot of problems in his family. His personal life and family life were, as my wife would say, a hot mess. But at the end of the day, we see a father who truly loved his son. He loved him more than his own life. And in this, he was like God.
When we look at the human father, David, and see his love for his son Absalom, we can see how much more our Father in heaven loves each of us.
1 David mustered the men who were with him and appointed over them commanders of thousands and commanders of hundreds. 2 David sent out his troops, a third under the command of Joab, a third under Joab’s brother Abishai son of Zeruiah, and a third under Ittai the Gittite. 3 But the men said, “You must not go out; if we are forced to flee, they won’t care about us. Even if half of us die, they won’t care; but you are worth ten thousand of us. It would be better now for you to give us support from the city.” 4 The king answered, “I will do whatever seems best to you.”
This chapter begins as David is readying his men for battle. He puts them in groups of hundreds and thousands.
Where were they going? Who were they fighting?
The story really beings in 2 Samuel 13. It begins with David’s firstborn, Amnon, who is sick with love for his half-sister, Tamar. Really, it wasn’t love. It was pure lust. Amnon finds a way to get Tamar into his bedroom, and he rapes her. Then he kicks her out of his house. The author writes, “Then Amnon hated her with intense hatred. In fact, he hated her more than he had loved her.” (15)
Back in those days, a virgin who had been violated in such a way could either marry the man or live the rest of her life desolate, unmarried and childless, in shame.
Amnon, to satisfy his lust, didn’t mind ruining a girl for the rest of her life. Was it that he let his power as the crowned prince get to his head? Did he think he had such a right? Or did his lust just make an animal out of him?
Recently, a friend at work took about a month off. She and her husband both did so that they could support their 9th grade daughter. Only after recent attempts at suicide did these parents find out their daughter had been molested by a family member a few years back.
Sin is ugly. And it makes us ugly. It makes us destroy life. Amnon had done this to Tamar.
But what did David do?
Well, it says that he was furious. But he doesn’t do anything about it. Amnon was perhaps a teenager at this time. Maybe in his early twenties. As a father, David should have disciplined Amnon. What kind of king would Amnon become at this rate? What kind of man would he become? But David remained silent. Perhaps, it was David’s own sexual sin – his adultery with Bathsheba, that made him keep silent. How could he discipline his son for something he himself also had done?
Because David did nothing, or maybe not, Absalom, Tamar’s brother, took matters into his own hands. Two years after, Absalom invited all the princes out for a celebration, and there he killed Amnon. Then he ran away.
This story really seems straight out of Game of Thrones or Jersey Shore.
David grieved after Amnon’s death. Then he began to long for Absalom. But David didn’t go and get him. Only after Joab, his general, twisted his arm did he bring Absalom back to Jerusalem. But even when he was brought back, even though they were in the same city, David wasn’t willing to see Absalom. Two years passed by like this. People say that being ignored is worse than getting spat on in the face. Absalom must have felt tortured. Imagine all the thoughts that were going through his head.
Why did David keep Absalom at an arms’ length? Maybe it was his way of punishing Absalom for what he had done. Punishment by a kind of silent treatment. Really, this was the wrong move. Absalom needed a father that would strongly discipline him. But again, maybe it was his own past sins that kept him so passive-aggressive, so indecisive as a father. David had Bathsheba’s husband killed in order to cover up his sin of adultery with her.
David did eventually see Absalom, but not before bitterness and rebellion took root in Absalom’s heart. Four years later, David found himself mobilizing a small army to fight his own son, Absalom, who had usurped him.
5 The king commanded Joab, Abishai and Ittai, “Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.” And all the troops heard the king giving orders concerning Absalom to each of the commanders.
David told his army as they were heading out, “Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.” This was just ridiculous. David was on the run for his life because of Absalom. He had to run away from Jerusalem like he was some criminal, like he had done something wrong. David had his kingdom taken away by Absalom. And still David could say, “Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.”
Just to understand how ridiculous this is, we have to realize that Absalom had no qualms about killing his father. This wasn’t just some irrational teenage outburst, demanding this and that. This was an insidious, premeditated attempt at murder. How could David ask his army to be gentle with Absalom … for his sake? No, for his sake, they should have killed Absalom, brutally.
Absalom had been working on this for a few years – just so you guys know how premeditated this was. Absalom got himself an impressive entourage: a chariot pulled by horses and fifty men running ahead of him. Early in the morning, he would station himself in front of the city gates. There he would intercept anyone that was on their way to the king with a complaint. Absalom would give them royal treatment. He would ask where they’re from, he would listen to them, validate them. Then he would tell them, “If only I were appointed judge in the land! Then everyone who has a complaint or a case could come to me and I would see that they receive justice.”
Do you guys see what he was doing here? It’s like in that movie. He was doing inception. He was planting doubt about David’s administration. He was planting the idea that things would be better if he were king. Absalom was a crafty guy. He caught people in their times of difficulty, hurt, vulnerability. He knew this was when people would have their guards down; their hearts could be won over easily.
Combine this with his good looks and famous hair. He was irresistible.
“Whenever anyone approached him to bow down before him, Absalom would reach out his hand, take hold of him and kiss him. Absalom behaved in this way toward all the Israelites who came to the king asking for justice, and so he stole the hearts of the people of Israel.” (2 Samuel 15:5-6)
This is how he won over the people’s hearts and betrayed his father. When he knew he had people where he wanted them, he made the move. He went to Hebron, declared himself king, and began to rally the entire country behind him. Then he went to Jerusalem to usurp David’s throne.
Can you imagine what David must have been going through when he heard about all this? How pained his heart must have been as he was running away from his own home, from his own people, from his own son?
They say that there no pain like that of betrayal. Have you ever been betrayed? Even if we’re betrayed by a close friend, there is some hope of healing. But when you’re betrayed by your own son, there’s no hope of healing.
David should have had no hint of compassion left for Absalom. David should have seen Absalom for the despicable, treacherous rebel that he was. David should have commanded that Absalom be killed three times over. But David made this incredulous plea instead to his army, “Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.”
6 David’s army marched out of the city to fight Israel, and the battle took place in the forest of Ephraim. 7 There Israel’s troops were routed by David’s men, and the casualties that day were great—twenty thousand men. 8 The battle spread out over the whole countryside, and the forest swallowed up more men that day than the sword.
The fight that day went this way. David’s men routed Israel’s troops. Twenty thousand men died. People were strewn all over the countryside. Verse 8 says, "the forest swallowed up more men that day than the sword.” It seems the Lord was fighting for David.
9 Now Absalom happened to meet David’s men. He was riding his mule, and as the mule went under the thick branches of a large oak, Absalom’s hair got caught in the tree. He was left hanging in midair, while the mule he was riding kept on going.
Absalom spent his last moments hanging on a tree. His hair got caught on an oak tree. His hair represented his pride, and his pride was his downfall.
When a soldier saw Absalom hanging on the tree like that, he didn’t know what to do. He heard what the king had said about Absalom. So the soldier didn’t dare hurt him. Instead he went and reported it to Joab, the general. Joab then took three javelins in his hand, went to where Absalom was, and plunged them into Absalom’s heart. Then Joab’s men struck Absalom and killed him. The trumpets sounded, and just like that, it was over. David’s army had won the victory.
Absalom lived a short and tragic life. His rebellion had cost Israel twenty thousand lives. His pride brought trouble upon the nation and upon his father’s family. But how did David react to the news of his death?
Two men brought David the news. First, Ahimaaz, who didn’t know about Absalom, just the overall outcome, came and told David, “All is well!” David’s immediate question to him was, “Is the young man Absalom safe?” What?! He was thinking about Absalom! Then came a Cushite, who told David, “My lord the king, hear the good news! The Lord has vindicated you today by delivering you from the hand of all who rose up against you.”
32 The king asked the Cushite, “Is the young man Absalom safe?” The Cushite replied, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rise up to harm you be like that young man.” 33 The king was shaken. He went up to the room over the gateway and wept. As he went, he said: “O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!”
When David heard the news that Absalom had been killed, David was shaken. It was not the news of an enemy being defeated. It wasn’t the news of a criminal getting what he deserved. It was the tragic news of his child’s death, his dear boy, whom he loved with all his heart. There was no hint of resentment. No hint of vindication. Just inconsolable sadness at the loss of his precious son.
Earlier this year, May 6th, I still remember, I got a call from my wife while I was at work. She was frantic. She told me that our son David had fallen out of our second floor window. He was being rushed over to the hospital. I remember driving to the hospital, praying desperately, “God, have mercy. Have mercy.” At that moment, I remembered King David’s words, “O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you – O Absalom, my son, my son!” I got there before the ambulance did. I was drowning in a flood of worries. What if his head was damaged? What if his spine was hurt? Waiting in that trauma center, and then seeing my son being brought in on a stretcher, blood everywhere, both arms limp all bandaged up, doctors checking his body part by part, I remember so helplessly wishing it could have been me and not my son. At first, I tried to be strong for my wife, but my body gave in, and I went into shock. I was shaken. (By God’s grace, David came out of a fall that could have killed him with just two broken arms.)
I think David was going through something like this. His heart was just torn apart by his son’s death. He forgot everything Absalom did to him, and just remembered how precious his son was. Yes, David made many mistakes. He was not the best parent. But David was a man of heart. He really loved Absalom. “O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!” In a heartbeat, David would have given up his life if it meant life for his son, Absalom.
When we see David, a human father who loved his son so much, we see but a shadow of the love of God for his children. Think about David’s love for Absalom. It was absolutely ridiculous. It was nonsensical. How could David love Absalom when Absalom was trying to kill him? How was it that more than news of victory, David wanted to know that his son Absalom was okay? It’s ridiculous. Absalom didn’t deserve such love.
God’s love for us is like this. It’s a love that doesn’t make sense. It’s a love that we don’t deserve.
Romans 5:6-8 say, “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
God’s love for us doesn’t make sense. To love a righteous person makes sense. To love a good person makes sense. But to love a wicked person doesn’t make sense. But this is exactly the love of the Father God. If God loved the righteous only, he would have sent a Messiah to give out pats on the back. If God loved the good only, he would have sent a Messiah to give out trophies. But God sent Jesus the Messiah to die in the place of sinners because God loved us from the time we were in the height of our wickedness.
In Jesus’ time, people thought God loved the upright but hated the wayward – like the prostitutes, like the tax collectors, like the Absaloms. Makes sense, right? But Jesus taught them that they had it all wrong. This is what he said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
To be honest, it’s hard for me to fully wrap my mind around this, the way God sees sinners, the way God sees us. This past March, during Austin’s busiest and most debaucherous days, also known as the SXSW Music Festival, there was a great tragedy. A man in a car was running from the cops, and he made a turn into a street that was blocked off, where crowds of people were just hanging out, and he plowed through them. He drove like this for a few blocks. By the time he was caught, there were 23 injured and 2 dead. Another would die in a matter of days. There were city blocks of people just strewn on the ground. I remember my immediate reaction the next day to the news. I felt such anger toward this driver. But later that week, when our church community gathered and we were praying for the victims, one of our women prayed for this driver with such a broken heart. His name was Rashad Owens. He was only 21. He had kids, including a 1 month old infant. And now, he’d live out most of his days in prison. As she was praying for Rashad, I was deeply convicted. In my mind, I had dismissed him as one beyond the love of God. I saw him as I saw Absalom. Not an object of love but an object of judgment. After what he had done, that made sense to me. But that night, I realized that I had not fully grasped the love of God. God loves the victims, but God loves the victimizer as well (and wants them to come to repentance).
I think this is an important question. How easily does God’s love for you make sense? Maybe too easily?
If I’m honest, I often feel God’s love for me makes sense. “I’m doing many good things. I’m working hard. I’m sacrificing a lot. Of course he loves me.” But I realized when God’s love makes too much sense, if you follow, it also begins to make sense that he shouldn’t love me. “I didn’t work hard enough today. I prayed but not with enough faith. Why did I react to that person like that? Why am I not more like Jesus?” Maybe God’s love easily makes sense when I dumb it to a human kind of love that I’m more used to. But God’s love is not human love.
The thing is when God’s love doesn’t make sense, maybe then we’re on the right track. When God’s love doesn’t make sense, it’s because we see finally ourselves honestly and we realize (when we look at ourselves) there’s no way God should love us. And it doesn’t make sense because God still loves us.
That is the love of God – that he always treats us better than we deserve, that he loves us when it doesn’t make sense that he should.
Tim Keller writes, “The Gospel is: we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared to believe, and at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.”
My bet is Absalom would never have imagined that his father would weep over him like this. In his four years of scheming against his father, he probably hardened himself and accepted that his father would hate him to his grave. But to David, the bottom line was that Absalom was his son, and he loved him no matter what. Do you see God’s love in David? How we so easily miss the Father God’s heart for us. In our moments of pain, when we’re knee-deep in our failures and messy lives, we are sure God is tolerating us at best. Maybe even hates us. We know even our own parents or our close friends would reject us if they knew what we’ve done and what we’ve become. How can God actually love us?
I remember one friend I mentored in college. During one of our Bible studies, he felt so tortured. He had given his life to Jesus maybe a year or two before this. But he kept falling to the same sins over and over again. It wasn’t just his guilty conscience that tortured him. He was almost sure God was through with him. He had failed one too many times. That day, he was crying in pain because he really wanted to be different. And he wanted God to be different – more merciful, more patient, more loving. I remember he threw his chair across the room and went and punched the wall. Best Bible study ever. A few weeks later, the Holy Spirit opened the eyes of his heart to the gospel – and he realized the Father loved him more than he ever dared hope. When he thought he was most unlovable, he realized God was loving him, rooting for him, and helping him.
God’s love isn’t blind affirmation of everything we are doing or saying or believing. That’s what people do and call it love. God’s love is not human love. God loves us not because everything is okay but before everything is okay. He’s not saying everything is okay. He’s saying I love you even though everything is not okay. I hope to God we’re not the same people in ten years. There are many dark things in me that I hope to see recede. I hope I’m not the same person. So everything is not okay! And at the same time, it’s crazy – God already loves me as much as he will ever love me.
Some people are so uncomfortable with this that they’d rather dumb it down one way or the other – saying I’m already okay because God loves me, or saying God won’t love me till everything is okay in my life. Please don’t. Please don’t dumb it down like that. Maybe just be okay with God’s love always being something of a struggle.
One theologian (Henri Nouwen) wrote that to know that God loves us is a lifelong struggle. It’s really true, isn’t it? At one point, we’ve made sense of it. We could literally feel God’s love. But very quickly, we could forget. And to our surprise, the words, “God loves me,” could feel so empty. But we shouldn’t be surprised. God’s love is so unnatural, so nonsensical in human terms. So we must newly meditate on it, newly realize it time and again.
Back in August 2013, my family and Isaac Kim’s family planted a church in Austin. It’s really been like a whirlwind. Preparing sermons. Holding Bible studies, prayer meetings. Visiting people. Hanging out with them. Looking for new and creative ways to do evangelism together. Thinking deeply about raising disciples. Thinking and rethinking structure. Taking care of logistics every Sunday. Preparing food all the time. A few Sundays ago, I had a small breakdown. After a busy week, I spent all this time on Saturday and all morning Sunday preparing a sermon. That Sunday, not many people showed. And the people that did show were yawning the whole time. By the end of our Sunday gathering, I felt like a total failure. When we got home, I just went upstairs and lied in bed for a while. All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. Why is my preaching so useless? Was our move to Austin worth it? Are we really making any difference here? Is it worth sacrificing my family time for this? God helped me pray, and I understood what was happening. I had forgotten the nature of the Father’s love for me. I wasn’t on some probation until I got something great going with the church plant. God already loved me as much as he would ever love me. God loved me with the fullest love from the beginning. The problem was that I didn’t want to be loved by God as David loved Absalom, the way God should love Rashad Owens – you know what I mean? Like an undeserved love. I wanted to deserve it. But that day, I realized God’s love for me is forever like David’s love for Absalom. It’ll never be anything else. It’ll never be an even trade. It will always be undeserved. God’s love is always a love that, when based on me, will not make sense.
33 The king was shaken. He went up to the room over the gateway and wept. As he went, he said: “O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!”
This morning, through David’s love for Absalom when Absalom was the farthest from deserving it, we saw a glimpse of God’s love for us. It is the love of a Father who loves his children, whether far or close, because they are his children. And sometimes it doesn’t make sense because God’s love is not like human love. He loves us when we’re like Absalom, turning against him, running away from him. He loves us even when we don’t believe in him. He loves us when we’re trying to be sincere. He loves us even when we’re fakes. He loves us when we are trying. He loves us when we’re not trying. He loves us when our lives are a mess. He loves us even when we don’t want to admit that our lives are a mess. And because he loves us, he will help us out of our sins, and sometimes in painful ways; but to be sure, he’ll never stop loving us. He won’t love us less. He can’t love us more. This is the Father’s love. May we accept it.