The Sabbath-School by W. N. Glenn

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Nov 11, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 43.

The Sabbath-School.

By W. N. Glenn

Notes on the International Lesson.

DAVID'S GRIEF FOR ABSALOM.

"Now Absalom in his life-time had taken and reared up for himself a pillar, which is in the king's dale." The force of this item of information can only be felt by reading in the preceding part of the chapter the account of the battle between the forces of Absalom and those of King David, in which Absalom lost his life. The contrast between his ambitious design regarding his burial and perpetual renown, and that which actually came to pass, is recorded in the seventeenth verse: "And they took Absalom, and cast him into a great pit in the wood, and laid a very great heap of stones upon him." Verily "pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."

BOOTHROYD comments as follows: "We here see the miserable end of an undutiful and rebellious son. . . . How quickly did his rebellion come to an end, and all his gay dreams vanish! His pillar of honor was turned into a monument of shame; his beauty perished in the dust, and his memory was blasted. How awful, and yet how righteous, was the judgment of God upon this wicked son! God is still displeased with undutiful children; and he will make their plagues wonderful." And Dr. Adam Clarke says that four times had Absalom's life been forfeited to the law: "1. In having murdered his brother Amnon. 2. In having incited an insurrection in the State. 3. In having taken up arms against his own father (Deut. 21:18, 21). 4. In having lain with his father's concubines (Lev. 18:29). Long ago he should have died by the hand of justice; and now all his crimes are visited on him in his last act of rebellion."

AHIMAAZ was a fleet runner, recognized as a trustworthy messenger, and withal a favorite of the king. He was anxious to carry the news of success to David. But, for some reason, Joab preferred to send Cushi, who had witnessed the death of Absalom—a fact, it appears, not known to Ahimaaz. But he pressed his solicitation, "and Joab said, Wherefore wilt thou run, my son, seeing that thou hast no tidings ready?" That was indeed a pertinent question. How many in this age are running without a message! What can be the object? Of course those messengers expected pay for running, and in such case the one who should take good tidings to the king would certainly stand a chance for unusual reward. So when we see professed messengers of God running without any special message, we are free to infer that there is some selfish motive at the bottom of the effort.

FINALLY Ahimaaz' importunity won the coveted privilege of running. He wanted to run anyhow, whether there was any use of it or not; and Joab told him to run. He was fleet afoot, and outran Cushi, who had started in advance of him,

getting to the king first. But just what David wanted to know most, the fast runner could not tell him. All he could tell was that the army was successful, but there was something the humiliated king wanted to know more than that. The welfare of his wayward son was at stake, and upon this, to David the most vital point, the ambitious messenger without tidings could not inform him. So Ahimaaz was told to "turn aside" and make way for another.

So with the messengers of all ages who persist in running without the tidings which He whom they profess to represent most desires to have carried. They may run well, attract admiring attention, present the pleasing intelligence, that which is calculated to "take" well; but when it comes to the essential point—the pith of the message—they are silent, utterly uninformed. All they can say is, "I saw a great tumult, but I know not what it was." The less brilliant runner, who was chosen for his special fitness for the duty, and did not start out until he had a message, was the one to give the desired information, although the duty was a disagreeable one.

MANY people wonder at David's great grief for the death of one whose life had caused him and the kingdom so much trouble. That just at the critical moment, when his own army had been victorious over the rebellious forces, and twenty thousand of his subjects lay dead upon the field of battle, he should seemingly forget everything else and shut himself up to mourn for the slain outlaw. There are several reasons: David was a man of God, and he knew that the hand of God was resting heavily upon him on account of his former sin, as had been foretold by the prophet Nathan. His own son had been the instrument of his punishment, and had thereby lost his life. And Absalom had died impenitent, while in the most daring manner violating the law of God.

AGAIN: David was a most affectionate father, and he had been very indulgent to Absalom. He was, no doubt, made to feel most keenly that he was in a great measure responsible for the course which his erratic son had chosen. Some have compared David's mourning on this occasion with that of Christ when weeping over Jerusalem; but, while some features may be similar, the two cases are far from parallel. While David mourned for one who had rebelled against himself, and often had spared him just punishment, and even now would fain have spared him (having given special orders to that effect before the battle), it cannot be said of Christ, in deploring Jerusalem's sad fate, that he had in any degree been the cause of her downfall. There could be no remorse of conscience on the part of him who had done all possible for the instruction and correction of his favored and chosen people, when they rebelled against his rightful authority. His was a loving care, and his was a depth of grief with which nothing human can compare. His was—

"Amazing pity, grace unknown, And love beyond degree!"

And the same pity, grace, and love has been extended to everyone. "Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men." Ps. 107:8.