And it was told Joab, Behold, the king weeps and mourns for Absalom.
Israel's army has just won a battle, and the news reaching Joab, its commander, is about the king's tears for his dead son. A father's grief now collides with a kingdom's need, and the chapter asks when sorrow turns into self-will.
David's weeping did not begin with the news of Absalom's death. One writer traces the ruin further back, to the king's own favouritism toward this son.
David's favouritism toward Absalom had still other and more painful results, and heavy discipline. It is painful to see the conqueror of Goliath driven from his home and his throne by his beloved son, and that under God's hand... The sword was in his house... But He disciplines those He loves. So all this displays the righteous rule of God. Yet for David it is an occasion of deep heart-searching, and of a more real and more intimate knowledge of God. His heart was bound to God truly and forever, so all his sorrows bore fruit, even though his own faults caused them.
The army had won. David had not. One writer hears an older guilt crying out in David's ears while he mourns.
No: David has no music at this time. Absalom had fallen, and the blood of Uriah was crying from the ground afresh in David's ears. It was not right that he should celebrate and be glad... Victory was defeat, and life was death to David. His path is still the perfect path of the penitent; and so he now goes to his chamber rather than to his throne.
One writer weighs David's wish to have died instead against what Absalom's survival would have cost Israel.
It was sorrow beyond words to think of Absalom going out into the darkness of eternal judgment. David's sorrow for his son overwhelmed him, and he wept with an anguish that wished he had died in Absalom's place. If that had happened, Absalom would have had more time to repent. But Israel would have suffered his cruelty, as he ruled them by his own will and ignored God. But God knew Absalom would never repent... David was hurt deeply. But bowing under God's hand would have been wiser than his loud mourning in front of the people, and it would have been true evidence of faith.
The men who won the battle saw their king's grief. One writer says it changed how they felt about the victory.
Joab hears of David's mourning for Absalom, and the people take this as an indication that perhaps it was wrong to win the battle. At least it subdued their pride of winning. We all need to take to heart the words of Proverbs 24:7: "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls." We may be rightly thankful that the Lord Jesus will subdue all His enemies. Yet we ought to feel the sorrow that they must be judged. In some measure this was no doubt good for the people, but David carried it too far.
The rebuke that follows is fair. But one writer points at the man giving it.
Joab reproaches David for his weakness; Joab is exhorting David! But who else had brought on this evil and torn this father's heart so? No doubt this followed the ways of God, who let the discipline He had announced run its course (2 Sam. 12:10-11), and David must acknowledge His hand in all this. But woe to the unrighteous instrument who carried out these ways. Only, the time of punishment had not yet come.
A general dared to correct his king. That says something about David's throne — and about every type, every foreshadowing of Christ.
It is clear that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness. Otherwise Joab would never have dared to speak like that. So every type falls short of the truth. It must be so in the nature of things... The only one worthy of all homage and praise, of all confidence and love, is the second Man, the last Adam.
This is the last stroke of the discipline. One writer marks what it produced.
The discipline is now ended. In 1 Samuel discipline served to keep David in the path of dependence. There was no bitterness then, but rather the happy sense of God's favour. In 2 Samuel the discipline is bitter, because it comes with the awareness of having dishonoured a holy God. But what fruit it bears too! God fills the broken heart as He alone is able to do... We enter upon a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace.
- Cause — David's favouritism toward Absalom brought heavy discipline. The sword in his house displayed God's righteous rule.
- Grief — His tears were genuine. God knew Absalom would never repent, and to David the victory felt like defeat.
- Excess — Bowing under God's hand would have shown more faith than loud public mourning. The sorrow was right; the display was not.
- Rebuke — Joab's words were needed, yet Joab had brought on the evil. A rebuke can be true while the man giving it stands guilty.
- Fruit — This was the last stroke of discipline. God fills the broken heart, and the chapter turns to grace, forgiveness and peace.
And the victory that day was [turned] into mourning for all the people; for the people heard say that day, The king is grieved for his son.
David's army had just won the battle that saved his throne, but the king's cry for his dead son swallowed up the whole day. Was that sorrow right, or did it wrong the men who had fought for him?
Instead of the noise of returning conquerors, the camp fell quiet:
What grief David must have felt, that "the victory that day was turned into mourning"! The people went about on tiptoe, like people ashamed after a defeat. A great stillness covered everything, broken only by the loud, wailing voice of David: "O my son Absalom, O Absalom my son, my son!" All mourned with him. But what a man David must have been! He won his men's hearts so completely that his personal grief became theirs.
David's tears were not only a father's. The blood of Uriah was speaking again, and the win could bring him no joy:
No, David has no music at this time. Absalom had fallen, and the blood of Uriah was crying out from the ground again in David's ears. It was not fitting for him to celebrate and be glad… Victory was defeat, and life was death to David. His path is still the perfect path of the penitent; and so he now goes to his room rather than to his throne.
The people drew the worst conclusion from the king's cry: that winning had been a mistake. Commentators do not treat that instinct as entirely wrong:
Joab hears of David's mourning for Absalom, and the people take it as a sign that perhaps it was wrong to win the battle. At the least it subdued their pride in winning. We all need to take to heart the exhortation of Proverbs 24:17, "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls." We may be rightly thankful that the Lord Jesus will subdue all His enemies. Yet we ought still to feel the sorrow of their having to be judged. In some measure this was no doubt good for the people, but David carried it too far.
David's failure here is a common one. A natural bond, good in itself, came before duty to God's people:
Natural ties are very strong. In their proper place they are perfectly right before God. But when they interfere with the things of God, they become a hindrance and a source of trouble and sorrow. Scripture gives many examples of nature's claims opposing God's will. … David was more concerned about the death of his son Absalom than about the well-being of his own soldiers. He deserved the rebuke that Joab gave him (2 Sam. 19:1-6).
Joab spoke to David as no servant should dare speak to a king. That alone tells us something about this reign:
The very people who had won the victory for him could not help being upset. They read an implied reproof in the king's laments and tears. So Joab dares to say… "Now therefore arise, go out and speak kindly to your servants. For I swear by the LORD, if you do not go, not a man will stay with you this night." How clear it is that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness — otherwise Joab would never have dared speak like that. Every type falls short of the truth. … The only one worthy of all honour and praise, of all confidence and love, is the second Man, the last Adam.
The remedy was not to stop grieving. It was to stop letting private grief govern a public day:
His sorrow had to be his own. The people had earned a victory and deserved their reward. The king's sorrow must not spoil their joy. So Joab calls David back to his people and to their claims on him. David is roused, and he goes out to take his place in the scene again.
From this low point the story turns, and the chastening bears fruit:
The discipline is now ended… God fills the broken heart as He alone can, and outwardly the life of Jesus is shown. We enter a scene of grace, forgiveness and peace, the expression of what now fills the king's heart.
- Sin — David's tears trace back to Uriah's blood; his own past made the day of triumph a day when he had no song.
- Sorrow — Grief over a lost enemy is not wrong in itself; the warning is against rejoicing when an enemy falls.
- Excess — David carried his mourning too far. A family tie outweighed the well-being of the men who saved him.
- Shortfall — That Joab could rebuke a king shows this reign was not yet righteous. Every picture of the coming King falls short of Christ Himself.
- Grace — When David went back out to his people, the discipline had done its work. A broken heart became a channel of grace, forgiveness and peace.
And the people stole away that day into the city, as people steal away when ashamed of fleeing in battle.
David's army had just crushed Absalom's revolt and saved the throne. Yet the soldiers crept back into the city like men who had lost. The reason was in the king's tent, where David wept for his dead son.
The chapter opens on a strange reversal: the winners behave like losers. One writer traces the chain of events that produced it — the messengers, the watching king, the tender question about the young man, and then the collapse of grief that emptied the streets.
The conveyance of the news to David is described with unexpected detail: the two messengers, one of whom so persistently seeks the service while he withholds the distress of which he knows; the king's watch in the city; his tender inquiry after the "young man, Absalom"; then the burst of passionate grief, from which the people steal away ashamed, as if they had suffered the defeat instead of having gained the victory.
Another notices what this says about David's hold on his men. Their silence was not sulking; it was shared sorrow.
The people went about on tiptoe, like people ashamed after defeat. A great stillness covered everything. The only sound was the loud, wailing voice of David: "O my son Absalom, O Absalom, my son, my son!" All mourned with him. But what a man David must have been, to win his men's hearts so that his personal grief became completely theirs.
The soldiers read the king's tears as a verdict on what they had done. One writer finds something healthy in that, and something overdone.
Joab hears that David is mourning for Absalom, and the people take this as a sign that winning the battle may have been wrong. At least it subdued their pride in winning. We all need to take to heart the command, "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls." We may rightly be thankful that the Lord Jesus will subdue all His enemies. Even so, we ought to feel sorrow that they have to be judged. In some measure this was no doubt good for the people, but David carried it too far.
One writer weighs not the grief itself, but the way David carried it.
David was hurt deeply. Even so, bowing under God's hand would have been wiser than his loud mourning in front of the people. It would also have been true evidence of faith.
The men outside the tent had a claim on him too.
His sorrow had to be all his own. The people had earned a victory and deserved their rewards, and the king's sorrow must not tarnish their joy. So Joab recalls David to his people and to their claims on him. David wakes up and goes out to take his place in the scene again.
One writer measures David's kingship by this scene, then looks past David to someone greater.
The very people who had gained the victory for him could not help being upset as they read an implied reproof in the king's laments and tears... How clear it is that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness; otherwise Joab would never have dared to speak that way. So every foreshadowing falls short of the truth... The only one worthy of all homage and praise, of all confidence and love, is the second Man, the last Adam.
Another writer looks at who was doing the correcting.
Joab reproaches David for his weakness. Joab is the one exhorting David! But who else had brought on this evil and torn at this father's deepest affections? No doubt this followed the ways of God, who was letting the chastening He had announced run its course. David had to acknowledge His hand in all this. But woe to the unrighteous instrument who carried out those ways.
Behind the whole scene one writer sees God's righteous rule, and a gain David drew out of it.
All this displays the righteous rule of God. For David it is an occasion of deep heart-searching, and of a more real and more intimate knowledge of God. His heart was bound to God truly and forever, so all his sorrows bore fruit, even though his own faults caused them.
The same writer marks this as the turning point in David's story.
His humiliation here was already complete. Even so, his natural affections still had to burn down to ashes, so that divine affections alone would fill his heart... Only in a broken heart can the Lord take the full place... From this time on God has no further need to break David. At last the sun is rising. His heart is full of grace as he comes out of his cruel trial, and he becomes the one who hands on this divine grace to others.
- Shame — the king's mood set the tone of the camp. His tears turned winners into men slipping home like the defeated.
- Grief — the sorrow itself was not the fault. Bowing under God's hand, rather than wailing in front of the people, would have been wiser and more believing.
- Rebuke — Joab was right about the effect and wrong in his source, since he had caused the very wound he scolded. A king who can be spoken to that way is not yet reigning in righteousness; only the last Adam is worthy.
- Chastening — God had announced this discipline and let it run its course. David's heart was bound to God, so every sorrow bore fruit.
- Grace — natural affection burned down to ashes so divine affection could fill the heart. The broken king came out of the trial handing grace to others.
And the king covered his face, and the king cried with a loud voice, My son Absalom! Absalom, my son, my son!
David's army has just won the battle. But the king covers his face and wails the name of the son who tried to kill him. The soldiers who saved his life slip back into the city like men who have lost. His cry raises a hard question: what may a father feel for a son who died in rebellion?
The lament is almost wordless. One commentator finds the whole of the king's heart in the repeated words.
David was "much moved" at the news that wicked and rebellious Absalom had died. The fatherly love of his bleeding heart showed itself in the heartbreaking repetition of two words, "my son." … Though he had not one princely virtue, Absalom's relationship as son to David remained. "My son," said the king. Death had touched a chord in the father's love. It did not matter how unworthy Absalom was, or how deeply he had wronged his father.
David is not only mourning a death. He is hearing an old sin come back at him, and that is why triumph gave him no pleasure.
No: David has no music at this time. Absalom had fallen, and the blood of Uriah was crying from the ground afresh in David's ears. It was not right that he should celebrate and be glad. … Victory was defeat, and life was death to David. His path is still the perfect path of the penitent; and so he now goes to his chamber rather than to his throne.
Some grief grows heavier through what the mourner knows. Absalom had given no sign of faith. One commentator hears that emptiness under the cry, and adds a warning about grief that goes further than faith allows.
No doubt, if Absalom had shown any sign of faith in the living God, David may have had some comfort in his death. But it was sorrow beyond words to think of Absalom going out into the darkness of eternal judgment. … David was hurt deeply. Yet bowing under God's hand would have been wiser than his loud mourning before the people, and a true evidence of faith.
David's grief was loud and public. The men who had risked everything read an accusation in it, and Joab said so to his face. One writer draws a striking conclusion from Joab's daring to speak to the king like that.
Joab comes in to reprove the king as he gives way to unmeasured grief, and cries with a loud voice, "O my son Absalom! O Absalom, my son, my son!" The very people who had gained the victory for him could not help being hurt. They read an implied reproof in the king's laments and tears. So Joab dares to say, "You have shamed this day the face of all your servants who this day have saved your life … in that you love your enemies, and hate your friends." … How clear it is that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness. Otherwise Joab would never have dared to speak so. So every type falls short of the truth.
Another writer sets the king's private grief beside the army's claim on him.
But his sorrow had to be all his own. The people had won a victory, and they were entitled to their rewards. The king's sorrow must not tarnish their joy. So Joab calls David back to his people and their claims on him. David is roused, and goes out to take his place in the scene again.
Earlier in the same lament David had wished he could have died instead. That wish is the exact point where the king's love runs out of power.
"Would I had died instead of you!" David could not do this. This was reserved for One alone, who would die for the ungodly. He alone was counted among the transgressors and bore the sin of many (Isaiah 53:12). But David could pour out his sorrow freely over a loss that could never be undone, the loss of the one whose salvation he had so earnestly desired.
Rossier calls this the last of three times David's heart was broken. He says plainly what such breaking does.
Here his humiliation was already complete. Yet his natural affections still had to be consumed and burned to ashes, so that divine affections alone might occupy his heart. God gets this result no other way. Only in a broken heart can the Lord occupy the full place.
- Sown. The cry grew out of David's own sin. With Absalom fallen, Uriah's blood was crying in his ears again, and victory felt like defeat.
- Spoken. The lament is one phrase repeated — "my son." A son's relationship to his father survived even his rebellion.
- Stopped. Joab dared to rebuke the king, because David was not yet reigning in righteousness. Every type falls short of Christ.
- Surpassed. David wished he had died instead of his son. Only One has died for the ungodly.
- Softened. The breaking is not cruelty; it makes room. Natural affection burns down, and the Lord fills the whole heart.
And Joab came into the house to the king, and said, Thou hast put to shame this day the faces of all thy servants who have this day saved thy life, and the lives of thy sons and of thy daughters, and the lives of thy wives and the lives of thy concubines;
Joab walks in on a king weeping for the son who had turned against him, and charges him with shaming the army that had just saved his life and his family. Was the accusation fair — and was Joab, of all men, the right one to make it?
The army had won. But the sound coming from the king turned their homecoming into disgrace.
The story tells how the news reached David in unexpected detail. There is his tender, pitiful question about the "young man, Absalom." Then comes the burst of passionate grief. The people slip away ashamed, as though they had lost the battle instead of winning it. Then comes the bold and effective rebuke of Joab, which brings the king back to the gate, where the people come before him again.
The soldiers heard something aimed at them in the king's tears.
The very people who had won the victory for him could not help being upset, as they read an implied rebuke in the king's laments and tears.
Joab's speech was half right. He saw Absalom as an enemy and nothing more.
Joab, hard and unfeeling soldier that he was, had no sorrow at all for Absalom; he was glad he was dead, and had no sympathy for David or for his mourning. He goes further, declaring that as Joab sees it, David loved his enemies and hated his friends. Of course it was true that Absalom was David's enemy, but Joab gave no weight to Absalom also being David's son.
Was Joab right to speak? Some writers think he was.
Then Joab acted. He speaks as a wise statesman. It was a bold rebuke, but well deserved, for David's continued mourning was more than weakness; it was selfishness.
There was another way open to David.
David was hurt deeply. Yet to bow under God's hand would have been wiser than his loud mourning before the people. That would have been true evidence of faith.
The irony of the scene is that the speaker had caused the very wound he now scolds David for feeling.
Joab reproaches David for his weakness; Joab is lecturing David! But who except he alone had brought on this evil and so torn this father's deepest affections? No doubt it was according to the ways of God, who was letting the chastening He had announced run its course (2 Sam. 12:10-11), and David had to acknowledge His hand in it all. But woe to the unrighteous instrument who carried them out… David complies with Joab's counsel. I have no doubt this is because he knows the justice of God's ways toward himself.
David was not only a mourner. He was a king, and his people were waiting.
But his sorrow had to be all his own. The people had earned a victory and were entitled to their rewards, and the king's sorrow must not be allowed to spoil their joy. So Joab calls David back to his people and to his people's claims on him, and David is roused and goes out to take his place in the scene again. He gets up and sits in the gate; all the people come before him, and the tide of their desires turns back to him, and all his enemies are put to shame.
Joab dared to speak this way to a king. That tells us something about the throne he stood before.
How clear it is that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness; otherwise Joab would never have dared to speak like that. So every type falls short of the truth. It must be so by the nature of things… It tells the tale of all Scripture — the failure of the first man. The only one worthy of all homage and praise, of all confidence and love, is the second Man, the last Adam.
- Shame — The king's grief turned victory into mourning. His army crept home as though they had lost.
- Charge — Joab's accusation was half true. Absalom was an enemy, but he was also David's son.
- Excess — Writers who defend the rebuke call the long mourning selfishness. Bowing under God's hand would have been wiser.
- Irony — The rebuke came from the man who had caused the sorrow. David took it, because he knew God was dealing justly with him.
- Limit — A king who needs this rebuke is not yet reigning in righteousness. The type falls short, and points to the One who never needs correcting.
in that thou lovest them that hate thee, and hatest those that love thee. For thou hast declared this day, that neither princes nor servants are anything to thee for to-day I perceive, that if Absalom had lived, and all we had died to-day, then it would have been right in thine eyes.
David's army has just saved his throne, and the king is weeping for the son who tried to take it. Joab walks in and tells him that his tears have insulted the men who kept him alive — and that his loves and hatreds are the wrong way round.
One commentator gives the force of the charge, and the thing Joab left out of it.
He came to the king with sharp, reproving words (vv. 5-6). He told him that he had disgraced his servants, the men who had saved his life and the lives of his entire household. In fact, he goes further. He declares that it is clear to Joab that David loved his enemies and hated his friends. Of course it was true that Absalom was David's enemy. But Joab gave no thought at all to this: Absalom was also David's son.
David's grief was loud, and his people saw it. The same writer takes the father's pain seriously and still weighs how he showed it.
David's sorrow for his son overwhelmed him completely. He wept with an anguish that wished he had died in Absalom's place... David was hurt deeply. Yet bowing under God's hand would have been wiser than his loud mourning in front of the people, and a true evidence of faith.
The man lecturing David about his loves and hatreds had brought this grief on him in the first place. One writer notes the irony, why David still took the rebuke, and how Joab's reckoning finally came.
Joab rebukes David for his weakness. Joab is the one urging David on! But who else had brought on this evil, and had torn so at this father's deepest affections? No doubt this was according to the ways of God, who was letting the chastening He had announced run its course (2 Sam. 12:10-11), and David must acknowledge His hand in all this. But woe to the unrighteous man God used to carry those ways out. Only, the time of retribution had not yet come. God does not even allow the offended David to replace Joab with Amasa, as he meant to do (v. 13). David complies with Joab's advice. I do not doubt that this is because he knows the justice of God's ways toward himself. When he later hands Joab's judgment over to Solomon, it is not actually Absalom's death he accuses him of, but above all the murder of Abner and Amasa in a time of peace (1 Kings 2:5).
A general speaks to his king like this, and the king does what he says. One commentator reads the scene as a measure of how far David falls short of the King he pictures.
How clear it is that the king was not yet reigning in righteousness; otherwise Joab would never have dared to speak like that. So every picture falls short of the truth... The only one worthy of all honor and praise, of all confidence and love, is the second Man, the last Adam.
The men in the field had a real claim on their king, and David's grief was crowding it out.
But his sorrow must be all his own. The people had earned a victory and had a right to their rewards, and the king's sorrow must not spoil their joy. So Joab calls David back to his people and to their claims on him. David wakes up and goes out to take his place in the scene again. He gets up and sits in the gate. All the people come before him, their hearts turn back to him, and all his enemies are put to shame (2 Sam. 19).
The chapter does not end in the king's tears. One writer weighs the bitterness of this discipline against the fruit it bore.
The discipline is now ended... In the Second Book of Samuel, discipline is bitter, because it comes with the awareness of having dishonored a holy God. But what fruit it bears too! God fills the broken heart as only He can, and the life of Jesus is seen on the outside. We enter a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace, the expression of what now occupies the king's heart.
- Half-true — Joab was right: Absalom was David's enemy. He was wrong to forget that Absalom was also David's son. A rebuke can be accurate and still be heartless.
- Excessive — the fault was not that David grieved. It was that he grieved loudly in front of his people. Bowing under God's hand would have been wiser, and a true evidence of faith.
- Compromised — the man preaching about enemies and friends had caused the grief he condemned. God left him in his post, and his reckoning came later, under Solomon.
- Revealing — a general could talk to the king like this, so the king was not yet reigning in righteousness. Every picture falls short of the truth. Only the last Adam is worthy of all confidence and love.
- Fruitful — David goes to the gate and the people come back. God fills the broken heart, and a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace follows.