And all the people were at strife throughout the tribes of Israel, saying, The king delivered us out of the hand of our enemies, and he saved us out of the hand of the Philistines; and now he is fled out of the land because of Absalom.
Absalom's rebellion has collapsed, the king is still east of the Jordan, and the nation that followed the rebel has no leader. Israel now argues: the people remember what David once did for them, yet nobody moves. What brings a rejected king home?
Disagreement runs through every tribe. David's own tribe is the slowest of all. One writer describes how Judah came round, and what their message left out:
The opening sentences here show us the tribes of Israel at strife among themselves about bringing back the king. The king's own tribe holds back... Then Judah is won over. With their usual impulsiveness, and without asking the rest of Israel to join in, they send their message calling the king back: "Return, you and all your servants." There is no confession or sorrow for the past.
Their reasoning is practical: this is the man who rescued us, and he is not here. One commentator sees God at work behind it, in hearts that had backed the wrong man:
The victory over Absalom's rebellion was won. But there was still the need of some work in the hearts of the people who had sided with Absalom, before they would welcome David back as king. There was disputing, but God worked on them. Now that Absalom was dead, they saw they had no other leader except the king who had saved them from their enemies before.
David's exile was discipline from God, not just politics. From this point the tone of the story changes:
The discipline is now ended... In Second Samuel the discipline is bitter, because it carries 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, the expression of what now occupies the king's heart.
The tribes now talking about a recall are the same tribes that had marched with Absalom. Read that way, the section beginning at this verse is about a king who makes no demands on those who wronged him:
In verses 9-15 we see grace. The ten tribes had betrayed and abandoned David to follow unrighteous Absalom. Now they are the first to return and speak of bringing back the king. David knows of this and opens his arms to Judah, who until now had been so slow and so unwilling to acknowledge the throne of their king... His grace demands nothing; instead it delights in doing good to his enemies.
Commentators differ here. One sees grace meeting men who had wronged the king. Another notes that their message carried no confession or sorrow for the past.
Many readers move straight from David's restoration to Christ's coming reign. One writer agrees the thought is natural, but asks for care:
We pass on then to the return of the king... David is now rising up out of his troubles. The government of God has proved itself right, and is no longer against him. His rejection is over... It is natural to think here of Him who is soon to come in glory as the one David pictures in circumstances like these... yet here we should probably expect more of what is simply David's own personal history, with points of unlikeness as well as likeness.
The same limit shows in the closing scenes of the chapter:
There it is that Shimei, who had cursed the king, cowers before him as he returns, for now those who had given a pretended obedience are shown up. Here too the king shows that he was in no way equal to the task that only the true David will take up and carry out in full. Carried away by his feelings, he swears to Shimei that he will not die — an oath that could not stand when Solomon came to the throne, as we learn from another book of Scripture.
- Strife. The tribes argue about bringing back the king, and David's own tribe is the last to move. Talk about the king is not the same as welcoming him.
- Memory. God works on the hearts of the people who had followed Absalom. They see they have no leader but the king who once saved them.
- Mercy. The discipline on David is over. What follows is a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace.
- Reach. Grace goes first to those with the least claim on it: the tribes who betrayed him. It asks nothing in return.
- Reserve. The returning king points to the One still to come in glory. Yet the picture is imperfect: David could not do what only the true David will carry out in full.
And Absalom, whom we anointed over us, is dead in battle; and now why are ye silent as to bringing the king back?
After Absalom's death, the tribes who had backed him had nothing left: the man they crowned was dead, and the king they drove out was still across the Jordan. Their own question "Why do you say nothing about bringing the king back?" exposes a people who knew what they should do long before they were willing to do it.
The rebellion had collapsed, but a collapsed rebellion does not by itself make loyal subjects. One writer shows how God worked on the hearts of the people who had sided against David:
Absalom's rebellion had been defeated, but some work still had to be done in the hearts of the people who had sided with Absalom before they would welcome David back as king. There was arguing, but God worked in such a way as to bring them to see that they had no other leader — now that Absalom was dead — except the king who had saved them from their enemies before. So many were asking why David was not being brought back to Jerusalem.
Their reasoning is honest as far as it goes. David had saved them; Absalom is dead; the throne is empty. But notice what drives them — a vacancy, not a broken heart.
This is where the moment falls short. The tribes talk about the king, Judah sends for him, and yet every message is missing something. One commentator names it:
The opening sentences here show the tribes of Israel quarrelling among themselves about bringing back the king. The king's own tribe holds back… Judah is won over. Acting on impulse as usual, and without asking the other tribes to join them, they send their message of recall to the king: "Return, you and all your servants." There is no confession or sorrow for the past. This going it alone does harm, because the tribes are already jealous of one another… Sheba's rebellion and the murder of Amasa both appear to spring out of David's unbelieving haste here.
Politics can bring a king home. Hearts are another matter.
David's response is the surprise of the chapter. The men now discussing his return had marched against him, and he asks for no apology. One commentator shows how far that grace reaches:
In verses 9-15 we see grace. The ten tribes had betrayed and abandoned David to follow unrighteous Absalom. They are the first to return and speak of bringing back the king. David knows this and opens his arms to Judah, who until now have been so slow and so lazy to acknowledge the throne of their king… Amasa had been the head of the army that had pursued David… His grace demands nothing; instead it delights in doing good to his enemies.
The irony is sharp: the tribes who abandoned David speak first, while his own tribe holds back. Nearness by blood is no guarantee of a loyal heart.
This is not the first time Israel's affection for David wavered, and it would not be the last. One writer lines up the whole pattern and draws the lesson:
But Israel's love for David kept changing. They left David and followed his rebellious son Absalom… After Absalom's defeat and death they were brought back to David (2 Sam. 19:9-10). When Sheba, a man of the tribe of Benjamin, stirred Israel to leave David, they left — and came back to David again once that rebellion was crushed… If love for David should have united the tribes, love for Christ and His interests should unite the believers in Him. Love for David should have kept the tribes from words and feelings that divided them.
Many readers look past David here to a greater return. One commentator welcomes that, while warning us not to press every detail:
Now we come to the return of the king. David is rising up out of his troubles. God's government has proved itself right and is no longer against him. His rejection is over… It is natural to think here of Him who is soon to come in glory, the One whom David pictures in circumstances like these… yet here we should probably expect a larger mixture of what is just David's own history, and of what is unlike Christ as well as what is like Him.
The picture points to Christ, yet David's own history is mixed into it.
- Silence. The tribes knew David had saved them and knew Absalom was dead — yet they argued instead of acting. Knowing the right thing and saying nothing is its own verdict.
- Emptiness. God worked on them until they saw they had no other leader. Losing the substitute is often what makes room for the rightful king.
- Shallowness. Their recall carried no confession or sorrow for the past. Rebellion and bloodshed followed soon after.
- Grace. David's answer to men who had hunted him demands nothing and delights in doing good to his enemies.
- Steadiness. Israel's love for David kept swinging with events. Love for Christ should unite His people and keep them from words that divide.
And king David sent to Zadok and to Abiathar the priests, saying, Speak to the elders of Judah saying, Why are ye the last to bring the king back to his house? seeing the speech of all Israel is come to the king, to his house.
Absalom's rebellion has collapsed, and the nation is arguing about whether to bring its exiled king home. David's message goes through two priests to Judah's elders — part reproach, part appeal, since his own tribe hangs back while the tribes that backed the rebel already talk of his return.
The message comes at a turning point. One writer marks this chapter as the place where David's discipline ends.
The discipline is now ended... In the Second Book discipline is bitter, because it carries 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, and the life of Jesus shows outwardly. We enter a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace — the expression of what now fills the king's heart.
The reproach stings because of who receives it. Judah was David's own tribe, yet the tribes with the worse record moved first.
The ten tribes had betrayed David and abandoned him to follow the unrighteous Absalom. Yet they are the first to return and speak of bringing back the king. David knows this and opens his arms to Judah. Judah had been so slow, so lazy until now to acknowledge the throne of their king, and they ought to have paid the penalty for it. "You are my bone and my flesh," he tells them. Amasa had led the army that pursued David. He was all the more guilty because, like Joab, he was the king's nephew. "Are you not my bone and my flesh?" David sends word to Amasa. His grace demands nothing. Instead it delights in doing good to his enemies.
David sends his appeal through the priests, and he attaches a startling offer to it. Amasa had led the rebel army; David now promises him command of the royal one.
David heard of this movement among the people. He sent to Zadok and Abiathar, asking them to press the elders of Judah: why were they so slow to bring the king back when the common people were urging it? He uses another means of persuasion too, declaring that Amasa would take Joab's place as commander of his army. This was a bold step on David's part. Amasa had sided with Absalom in his plot, and there was a real question whether he could be trusted as commander of David's army. But David wanted to show a conciliatory spirit toward those who had joined Absalom. He also thought Joab had proved himself too hard a man to represent the king properly as commander of his army.
Commentators differ on whether David acted well here. One sees a conciliatory spirit. Another traces the later troubles of the reign back to this move.
Judah is won over. With their usual impulsiveness, and without asking the rest of Israel to join them, they send their message of recall to the king. There is no confession or sorrow for the past... In all this David shows little of the dignity of faith, and perhaps for this reason is allowed to suffer at least enough to convince him of his folly. Sheba's revolt and the murder of Amasa both seem to spring from David's unbelieving haste here. Amasa seems little qualified for the position he is raised to.
The appeal to kinship won Judah. It also gave the tribes something to fight over: who had the better claim on the king.
Judah claims close ties with the son of Jesse... Israel replies: "I have ten parts in the king, and I have more right in David than you. Why then did you despise me?" All these exchanges are of the flesh. Ambition for a role in the things of God, jealousy as we watch what others are doing, wounded self-love, preoccupation with ourselves — none of this is the fruit of the Spirit... Those who are right act without love, and division is the inevitable result.
A king brought home from exile invites comparison with a greater return. One writer welcomes that comparison and warns against pressing it.
David is now rising up out of his distresses. The government of God has vindicated itself, and is no longer against him. His rejection is over... It is natural to think here of Him who is soon to come in glory — the one David pictures in circumstances like these... Yet we may expect here a larger mingling of what is only David's personal history, and what is unlike Him as well as what is like Him.
- Grace first. The chastening is over. The chapter opens on grace, forgiveness, and peace — and that is the heart David's message to Judah comes out of.
- Grace reaches backwards. David calls the men who hunted him his own bone and flesh. He offers Amasa, the rebel commander, the top post in the army.
- Grace can be rushed. Commentators differ. One sees a conciliatory spirit. Another sees "little of the dignity of faith," with Sheba's revolt and Amasa's murder as the price.
- Grace claimed becomes rivalry. Judah and Israel end up arguing over who had the greater claim on the king. Jealousy over service brings division.
- Grace foreshadowed. A rejected king brought home points to a greater return. But the picture holds unlikeness as well as likeness.
Ye are my brethren, ye are my bone and my flesh; and why will ye be the last to bring back the king?
David has won the war and lost his son. Now the kingdom that drove him out must decide whether it wants him back. His message to the elders of Judah presses one claim only: kinship. He asks why his own tribe is the last to move.
The other tribes were already arguing about fetching David home. His own were silent, and the wording of his appeal shows he knew it.
The opening verses here show the tribes of Israel quarrelling among themselves about bringing back the king. The king's own tribe holds back. So David sends to Zadok and Abiathar. They are to press on these men how the other tribes feel, and David's own kinship with them. Amasa was captain of the army that had so recently come against him. David urges him in the same way, promising him the same place he had under Absalom, in place of Joab. Judah is won over. With their usual impulsiveness, and without seeking the help of the rest of Israel, they send their message of recall to the king: "Return, both you and all your servants." There is no confession or sorrow for the past.
Judah deserved punishment for its delay. Instead David speaks to them as family. He uses the same words on the man who led the enemy army against him.
In verses 9-15 we see grace. The ten tribes had betrayed and abandoned David to follow unrighteous Absalom. They are the first to return and speak of bringing back the king. David knows of this and opens his arms to Judah. Until now Judah was so slow, so lazy to acknowledge the throne of their king, and they ought to have paid the penalty for it. "You are my bone and my flesh," he tells them (v. 12). Amasa had been the head of the army that had pursued David. He was all the more guilty because, like Joab, he was the king's nephew. "Are you not my bone and my flesh?" David sends word to Amasa (v. 13). His grace demands nothing; rather it delights in doing good to his enemies.
Where does this openness come from? One writer traces it to the discipline David has just come through.
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 awareness of divine favour. In the Second Book 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 can, and the life of Jesus shows outwardly. We enter a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace, the expression of what now occupies the king's heart.
Rossier reads the appeal as pure grace. Others weigh David's method too. The same message that claims kinship also promises Amasa the top command in the army.
He presses the fact too that Judah was David's own tribe, virtually his bone and his flesh. Why then the delay? He also uses one more means of influence: he declares that he will make Amasa commander of his army in place of Joab. This was a fairly bold step on David's part. Amasa had sided with Absalom in his conspiracy, and it might be a serious question whether David could trust him as commander of his army. But David wanted to show a conciliatory spirit toward those who had joined Absalom.
Another writer is harder on David. He traces the revolt that followed, and Amasa's murder, back to this haste.
In all this David shows little of the dignity of faith. Perhaps that is why he is allowed to suffer enough to convince him of his folly. Sheba's revolt and the murder of Amasa — who seems hardly qualified for the position he is raised to — both seem to spring out of David's unbelieving "haste" here.
Here David must ask his people to bring him home. One writer points ahead to the day when Israel says these family words on its own.
The Lord turned the kingdom to David. It was a marvellous turning. As soon as the one blocking the way is removed, all Israel seek David, and say, "Behold, we are your bone and your flesh" (1 Chron. 11:1, etc.), and the blessing comes. David takes his foreordained place, and a nation is born in a day. Something brighter than this will come when Israel rises from a deeper fall to a higher position of glory. With what cleaving of heart will all Israel gather to the Son of David in the day of their deliverance.
- Delay — The rebel tribes spoke first about bringing the king home. His own tribe stayed quiet, and his question names that silence.
- Kinship — His one argument is relationship, not record. He calls the men who failed him bone and flesh, and says the same to the general who had hunted him.
- Grace — This openness comes out of a broken heart. The bitter discipline is over, and forgiveness and peace now fill the king.
- Offer — The appeal also carries an offer: Joab's command given to Amasa. Commentators differ — conciliation to one writer, unbelieving haste to another. And Judah comes back with no confession of the past.
- Anticipation — Here David must ask his people to bring him home. One day Israel will come to the Son of David and say the words itself.
And say to Amasa, Art thou not my bone and my flesh? God do so to me and more also, if thou be not captain of the host before me continually instead of Joab.
David has just won the battle against his son Absalom. Now he must win back a kingdom that turned against him. His message to Amasa — the man who led the rebel army — offers not just pardon but the top job in the royal army.
David sends the same words to two parties: the tribe of Judah, and the general who had fought him.
David opens his arms to Judah. Until now they were slow and slack to acknowledge the throne of their king, and they should have paid the penalty for it. "You are my bone and my flesh," he tells them (v. 12). Amasa had been the head of the army that had pursued David, and he was even more guilty because, like Joab, he was the king's nephew. "Are you not my bone and my flesh?" David sends word to Amasa (v. 13). His grace demands nothing; it delights instead in doing good to his enemies.
The same words turn up twice in Genesis.
The same kindred: "you are my bone and my flesh," Genesis 29:14; "he is our brother, our own flesh," Genesis 37:27.
He gives the tribe that hung back and the general who fought him the same family name.
The promotion of Amasa was also a demotion. David had reasons for both halves of the move.
This was quite a bold step on David's part. Amasa had sided with Absalom in his conspiracy, and it might well be a serious question whether he could be trusted as commander of David's army. But David wanted to show goodwill toward those who had joined Absalom. He also judged that Joab had proved himself too hard a man to represent the king rightly as commander of his army.
One writer weighs what Joab had against what he lacked.
Zeal, ability, diligence, devotion to David's interests and quick understanding marked him in full measure. But he never learned anything of David's grace… So he was sadly opposed to David's victories through forgiveness, reconciliation and grace.
Writers link this generosity to what David had just been through.
In 1 Samuel God used discipline to keep David in the path of dependence. There was no bitterness then, but a happy sense of God's favor. In 2 Samuel the discipline is bitter, because it comes with the knowledge that he has dishonored a holy God. But what fruit it bears too! God fills the broken heart as only He can… We step into a scene of grace, forgiveness, and peace — the expression of what now occupies the king's heart.
Commentators differ on how to read the move. Some see grace; others see haste, and point to the damage that followed.
Amasa was captain of the army that had just come against David. David urges him in the same way, promising him the same place he had under Absalom, instead of Joab… In all this David shows little of the dignity of faith. Perhaps that is why he is left to suffer at least enough to convince him of his folly. Sheba's rebellion and the murder of Amasa both seem to spring out of David's unbelieving "haste" here — and Amasa seems little qualified for the post he is raised to.
Another writer sees God's own hand in what followed.
This was according to the ways of God. He was letting the chastening He had announced take its course (2 Samuel 12:10-11), and David had to recognize His hand in all of it. But woe to the unjust instrument who carried out those ways! His time of punishment had simply not yet come. God does not even allow Amasa to replace Joab, as David in his offense meant him to do (v. 13)… Later, when David hands Joab's judgment over to Solomon, it is not really Absalom's death he charges him with, but above all the murder of Abner and Amasa in a time of peace (1 Kings 2:5).
The demoted general answered the appointment with a knife.
This roused Joab's jealousy. He killed Amasa by a trick and took back his place at the head of the army (2 Samuel 20:4-10). David had said before this, "These men, the sons of Zeruiah, are too hard for me." But his own sin over Uriah left him too weak to act when Joab murdered Amasa.
- Grace names a rebel as family. David calls the commander of the army that hunted him "my bone and my flesh" — the everyday phrase for a blood relative.
- Grace asks nothing back. David demands no confession from Amasa. He offers him the highest post in the kingdom, in place of Joab.
- Grace grows in broken soil. Writers trace this open hand back to bitter discipline, and to a broken heart God had filled.
- Grace meets resistance. Joab served David's interests for years but never learned David's grace. He murdered the man who replaced him.
- Grace runs into limits. Was the move faith or haste? Commentators differ. The promise failed, David was too weak to enforce it, and Joab's reckoning waited for Solomon.
And he bowed the heart of all the men of Judah as of one man; and they sent to the king, Return, thou and all thy servants.
Absalom's rebellion had collapsed, and the tribes of Israel argued over bringing David home. His own tribe, Judah, held back. This verse records the moment the deadlock broke: Judah moved as one man and sent for the king.
David's message made no threat and set no terms. He reached out to the tribe that had held back from him, and to the man who had led the army against him.
In verses 9-15 we see grace. The ten tribes had betrayed David and abandoned him to follow unrighteous Absalom. Yet they are the first to turn back and speak of bringing the king home. David knows this, and he opens his arms to Judah. Judah had been so slow, so lazy until now to own the throne of their king, and they should have paid the penalty for it. "You are my bone and my flesh," he tells them. Amasa had led the army that chased David, and he was all the more guilty because he, like Joab, was the king's nephew. "Are you not my bone and my flesh?" David sends word to Amasa. His grace demands nothing. Instead it delights in doing good to his enemies.
The swaying of Judah did not happen in a vacuum. Something had to change inside the people who had backed the rebellion before they could want their king back at all.
Absalom's rebellion had been put down. But God still had work to do in the hearts of the people who had sided with Absalom, before they would welcome David back as king. They argued among themselves. Yet God moved in such a way that they came to see they had no other leader, now that Absalom was dead, except the king who had saved them from their enemies before. Many were asking why they were not bringing David back to Jerusalem.
Part of what moved Judah was David's pledge to make Amasa his commander. Amasa had led Absalom's army, and giving him Joab's post was a gamble.
David heard about this movement among the people. He sent to Zadok and Abiathar, the priests, asking them to speak to the elders of Judah: why were they so slow to bring the king back, when the common people were urging it? He presses the point too that Judah was David's own tribe, virtually his bone and his flesh. Why the delay? He uses one more means of persuasion. He declares that Amasa will be made commander of his army in place of Joab. This was a bold step on David's part. Amasa had sided with Absalom in his conspiracy, and it was a serious question whether he could be trusted as commander of David's army. But David wanted to show a spirit of peace toward those who had joined Absalom. He also judged that Joab had proved himself too hard a man to represent the king well as commander of his army.
The verse does not say who swayed Judah's heart. Writing about Sheba's revolt later on, one writer credits God with it.
The fact is that out of fear of the harm Sheba might do, David once again falls into Joab's hands, with Abishai as the means. Could David not have asked the Lord at this fresh start of his reign? God had once bent Israel's heart before. Could He not do it a second time?
Commentators differ on how to read David's move. One sees grace. Another sees a king handling things himself, and traces the later trouble back to this message.
So Judah is won over. With their usual impulsiveness, and without asking the rest of Israel to join them, they send their message calling the king back: "Return, both you and all your servants." There is no confession, and no sorrow for the past. Acting alone does harm, because the tribes are already jealous of each other. In all this David shows little of the dignity of faith… Sheba's revolt and the murder of Amasa — who seems poorly qualified for the position David gives him — both seem to spring out of David's unbelieving "haste" here.
- Heart first. God worked in the people who had rejected David until they saw they had no other leader. Only then would they welcome him back.
- Grace moves first. David appealed to the tribe that had been slowest to own him, and to the man who had led the army against him. He demanded nothing.
- Grace costs. Giving Joab's command to Amasa was a real risk. David took it to show a spirit of peace toward former rebels.
- God bends hearts. God bent Judah's heart. David forgot that lesson at the next crisis, when fear of Sheba sent him back to Joab instead of to the Lord.
- Speed is not faith. Judah called the king back with no confession and without the other tribes. One writer traces Sheba's revolt and Amasa's murder back to that haste.
And the king returned and came as far as the Jordan. And Judah came to Gilgal, to go to meet the king, to conduct the king over the Jordan.
David's exile ends at the Jordan, the same river he crossed on the way out of his kingdom. The verse is a hinge: correction gives way to restoration, and the tribe that should have led the welcome arrives last.
The return is more than a change of political fortune. It closes a long season of correction in David's life.
The discipline is now ended. In 1 Samuel, discipline kept David in the path of dependence. There was no bitterness then, but the happy sense of God's favour. In the Second Book the discipline is bitter, because it comes with the knowledge of having dishonoured a holy God. But what fruit it bears too! God fills the broken heart as He alone is able to do.
The ten tribes that had followed Absalom were the first to talk of bringing David home. His own tribe hung back. What David sends them — and the man who led the army against him — is grace.
In verses 9-15 we see grace. The ten tribes had betrayed David and abandoned him to follow unrighteous Absalom. Yet they are the first to come back and speak of bringing the king home. David knows this, and he opens his arms to Judah. Until now Judah had been slow and lazy about acknowledging the throne of their king, and they ought to have borne the penalty for it. "You are my bone and my flesh," he tells them. Amasa had led the army that pursued David, and he was all the more guilty because, like Joab, he was the king's nephew. David sends word to him too, calling him his own bone and flesh. His grace demands nothing; it delights instead in doing good to his enemies.
The homecoming sorts the crowd out. One man who had blasphemed the king now has to stand in front of him, and David's answer to him shows David's own limits.
And it is there that the blaspheming Shimei cowers before the returning king, for now those who had given a pretended obedience are being shown for what they are. Here too the king shows that he was in no way equal to the task that only the true David will take up and carry out in full. Worked on by his feelings, he swears to Shimei that he shall not die — an oath that could not hold when Solomon comes to the throne, as we learn from another book of Scripture.
The two place names are not background scenery. The name Gilgal itself says something.
Gilgal, which means "rolled away."
Read as a picture, that same route points forward to a restoration still to come.
Israel's remnant will do as David did. They will rediscover a path into Canaan again in reality, as the people once did as a picture. The Jordan, the river of death, is that path. Death with Christ is needed to enter into the inheritance and the blessings of the promises. Then comes Gilgal, the place of circumcision where Egypt's shame was rolled away from the people.
Commentators differ on how well David handled his own recall. One sees open-armed grace; another sees an impulsive Judah and a king short of faith.
So Judah is won over. With their usual impulsiveness, and without seeking the co-operation of the rest of Israel, they send their message of recall to the king: "Return, both you and all your servants." There is no confession or sorrow for the past. Their acting alone does harm, because jealousy already exists between the tribes. In all this David shows little of the dignity of faith.
The same writer adds a caution about reading David here as a picture of Christ.
It is natural to think here of Him who is soon to come in glory — the One whom David pictures in circumstances like these. Still, though types are repeated often and in different ways, it is worth remembering this. Much earlier in David's history we have already had the types of both Christ's rejection and His reign.
This crossing has a personal use. Recovery after a fall is not a shortcut. It means walking the old road again.
To recover the power of what our foolishness has despised, we must in a practical way begin again the path we have already walked. We renew our familiarity with our Jordan and with our Gilgal. By repentance we rediscover the purpose of the cross and the power of death with Christ… May God grant us to learn these things through His Word and not by actual falls.
- Ended — the bitter correction closes here, and God fills the broken heart as only He can.
- Offered — David's own tribe was the slowest to want him back. He answers their delay by calling them his bone and his flesh.
- Exposed — the welcome sorts the crowd. A blasphemer cowers, and pretended loyalty shows itself for what it is.
- Retraced — the way home runs through the Jordan, the river of death, and then Gilgal, where shame was rolled away.
- Repeated — our own recovery walks the same road again: repentance that rediscovers the cross, learned from God's Word and not from our falls.