by Gene Edwards
“Then there were problems in the nation when Moses ruled?” asked David.
“There are always problems in any kingdom,” replied Zadok. “Always. Furthermore, the ability to be able to see those problems is a cheap gift, indeed.”
David smiled and asked, “But, Zadok, you know there have been unjust kingdoms and unjust rulers and pretenders and liars who have ruled and governed. How can a simple people know which is a kingdom with faults but led by men of God, and which is a kingdom unworthy of men’s submission? How can a people know?”
David stopped; he realized that he had hit upon what he wished most of all to know. Heavily, he spoke again. “And the king—how can he know? Can he know if he is just? Can he know if the charges are of great worth? Are there signs?” David’s final words were anxious.
“Are you looking for some list let down from heaven, David? Even if there were such a list, even if there were a way to know, wicked men would arrange their kingdoms to fit the list! And if such a list existed and a good man filled it to perfection, there would be rebels claiming he had not fulfilled one qualification listed therein. You underestimate the human heart, David.”
“Then how shall the people know?”
“They cannot know.”
“You mean that in the midst of a hundred voices making a thousand claims, the simple people of God have no assurance of who is truly anointed to bear God’s authority and who is not?”
“They can never be certain.”
“Who, then, can know?”
“God always knows—but he does not tell.”
“Is there no hope, then, for those who must follow unworthy men?”
“Their grandchildren will be able to see the matter clearly. They will know. But those caught up in the drama? They can never be certain. Nonetheless, a good thing will come from it all.”
“What is that?”
“As surely as the sun rises, people’s hearts will be tested. Despite the many claims—and counterclaims—the hidden motives within the hearts of all who are involved will be revealed. This might not seem important in the eyes of men, but in the eyes of God such things are central. The motives of the heart will eventually be revealed. God will see to it.”
“I despise such tests,” replied David wearily. “I hate such nights as this one. Yet God seems to send many, many things into my life to test this heart of mine. Once more, this night, I find my heart on trial.
“Zadok, there is something that bothers me above all else. Perhaps God is finished with me. Is there not some way for me to know?”
“I know of no other ruler in all history who would even ask the question, Good King. Most other men would have ripped their opponent—or even their imagined opponent—to shreds by now. But to answer your questions, I know of no way for you to be certain that God is—or is not—finished with you.”
David sighed and choked back a sob. “Then continue with the story. Korah had 252 followers, did he? What happened next?”
“Korah approached Moses and Aaron with his followers. He informed Moses that he had no right to all the authority he exercised.”
“Well, we Hebrews are consistent, aren’t we?” laughed David.
“No, the heart of man is consistent, David,” replied Zadok.
“Tell me, what was Moses’ response to Korah?”
“At the age of forty, Moses had been an arrogant, self-willed man, not unlike Korah. What he might have done at forty, I cannot say. At eighty, he was a broken man. He was . . .”
“The meekest man who ever lived,” interrupted David.
“The man who carries the rod of God’s authority should be. Otherwise God’s people will live in terror. Yes, a broken man faced Korah. And I believe you already know what Moses did, David. He did . . . nothing.”
“Nothing. Ah, what a man.”
“He fell on his face before God. That is all he did.”
“Why did he do that, Zadok?”
“David, you of all men must know. Moses knew that God alone had put him in charge of Israel. There was nothing that needed to be done. Korah and his 252 followers would seize the kingdom—or God would vindicate Moses. Moses knew that.”
“Men would find it hard to imitate such a life, would they not? An imposter surely could not fake such surrender, could he? But tell me, how did God vindicate Moses?”
“Moses told the men to return the next day with censers and incense . . . and God would decide the issue.”
“So!” cried David. “So!” he exclaimed again even louder. “Sometimes God does tell,” he said excitedly. “Please continue.”
“Korah and two of his friends were swallowed by the earth. The other 250 died by . . .”
“Never mind,” said David. “Suffice it to say that Moses was proven to be in authority . . . by God! God did tell! The people knew who really had authority from God, and at last Moses had rest.”
“No, David. He did not find rest, and the people were not satisfied with God’s answer! The very next day the whole congregation murmured against Moses, and they would all have died except for the prayers of Moses.”
“And men fight to become kings!” David shook his head in perplexity.
Zadok paused, then continued: “David, I perceive that you are torn by the question of what is true authority and what is not. You want to know what to do with a rebellion, if indeed it is a rebellion and not the hand of God. I trust you will find the only pure thing to do—and do it. And thereby you will teach us all.”
The door opened, and Abishai rushed in. “Good King! Your son, your own flesh and blood, has proclaimed himself king in Hebron. At first impression, it seems all Israel has gone over to him. He plans to take the throne. He marches toward Jerusalem. Some of the men closest to you have gone over to him.”
David walked away. He spoke quietly to himself. “Israel’s third king? Do true leaders of the kingdom of God gain authority in this way?”
Zadok, not certain if he should be hearing David’s words or not, spoke out. “My king?”
David turned, his eyes moist.
“At last,” David said quietly. “At last this matter will be resolved. Perhaps tomorrow someone besides God will know.”
“Perhaps,” said Zadok, “but perhaps not. Such questions may be debated even after we are all dead.”
“That might also be tomorrow,” laughed David. “Go, Abishai, tell Joab. You will find him in the turret of the east wall.”
Abishai departed as he had entered, in haste and in fury.
“I wonder, Zadok,” mused David, “if a man can force God into a position where he must tell.”
Chapter 26
Abishai rushed across the courtyard and into the eastern rampart, where he charged up the spiral staircase. At the top of the stairs, Joab stared down at Abishai. In the flickering light of torches, each man studied the face of the other.
Abishai spoke. “Have you heard, Joab?”
“Have I heard! ’Tis midnight, yet half the city is awake with the word. How can it be, Abishai—a son against his own father!”
“When kingdoms are vulnerable, men see queer sights,” responded Abishai with a distant stare.
“And they’ll sacrifice anything to satisfy ambition,” added Joab angrily. “What think you of these things, Abishai?”
“What think I?” responded Abishai, matching Joab’s anger with his own rage. “This! Absalom has no authority in the kingdom. He holds no power, no office, yet he has risen up to divide the kingdom. He has raised his hand against the very anointed of God—against David! David—who has never done or spoken one evil word against him.
“What think I?” Abishai’s voice rose toward a crescendo. “If Absalom, who has no authority, will commit this deed; if Absalom, who is nothing, will divide the very kingdom of God—” His voice now rolled like thunder. “If Absalom will do these evil things now, what in the name of sanity might that man do if he be king?”
Chapter 27
David and
Zadok were alone once more.
“And now, what will you do, David? In your youth, you spoke no word against an unworthy king. What will you do now with an equally unworthy youth?”
“As I said,” replied David, “these are the times I hate the most, Zadok. Nonetheless, against all reason, I judge my own heart first and rule against its interests. I will do what I did under Saul. I will leave the destiny of the kingdom in God’s hands alone. Perhaps he is finished with me. Perhaps I have sinned too greatly and am no longer worthy to lead. Only God knows if that is true, and it seems he will not tell.”
Then, clenching his fist, yet with a touch of wry humor in his voice, David added emphatically, “But today I shall give ample space for this untelling God of ours to show us his will. I know of no other way to bring about such an extraordinary event except by doing nothing! The throne is not mine. Not to have, not to take, not to protect, and not to keep.
“I will leave the city. The throne is the Lord’s. So is the kingdom. I will not hinder God. No obstacle, no activity on my part lies between me and God’s will. Nothing will prevent him from accomplishing his will. If I am not to be king, God will find no difficulty in making Absalom to be Israel’s king. Now it is possible. God shall be God!”
The true king turned and walked quietly out of the throne room, out of the palace, out of the city. He walked and he walked . . .
Into the bosoms of all men whose hearts are pure.
Epilogue
Well, dear reader, the time has come for us to say good-bye once more. I will leave you to your thoughts and to reflect on the hidden motives of your own heart.
Oh, by the way, the players are working on a love story. Perhaps we can see it together when it is performed. I believe it shall be called . . . The Divine Romance.
I trust, then, by the mercy of God, we shall meet again.
Book Discussion Guide
1. How can you break the cycle of wounding? What makes this hard to accomplish?
2. God’s prophet had anointed David when he was a boy, but for years David saw only hardship and danger. How can a person remain faithful between the promise and the payoff? What might make it difficult to remain faithful even after the payoff has arrived?
3. Have you been broken? Why do we tend to avoid this? Is it always necessary? Are you willing to live through pain, or do you avoid it? When do you most clearly see the sufficiency of God’s grace?
4. Who throws spears at you? How does God want you to respond?
5. Are you clinging to God’s promises or to God himself? What is the distinction (if any)?
6. Chapter 6 deals largely with God’s divine establishment of authority. Read Romans 13 and consider your reaction to these concepts. What do you find hard to swallow? Are there any exceptions to this general rule?
7. Do you agree with the author’s assertion that God knows, but he never tells us? How does your answer affect your view of God’s relationship with his children?
8. What needs to happen to put your own inner Saul to death?
9. David’s men saw the opportunity as a sign from God, but David refused to harm Saul. If an opportunity arose, would you do something drastic to ensure your own safety? to exact justice? to take revenge?
10. The author points out that God does not rescind his gifts, even when people use them unfaithfully. (But contrast the story of Samson in Judges 16.) What does this show about God’s character?
11. Do you know any Davids who have been condemned as Sauls?
12. What makes a true leader? How should a real leader approach and handle his or her authority?
13. The author equates rebellion with thievery, taking what is not rightfully one’s own. Do you agree with the author’s statement that “no rebellion in the Kingdom of God is proper” (p. 64)? What differentiates dissenters or reformers from schismatics and dividers? How would you apply these truths to historical events like the Protestant Reformation or the American Revolution?
14. Do you agree with David’s commitment to “raise no hand,” or do you find this course too passive? How can we know when God wants us to take action and when he wants us to accept action taken against us?
15. In this story, David considered the throne to be God’s, not his own to have, to take, to protect, to keep. He asserted that he desired God’s will more than God’s blessing (see p. 75). Could you say the same about what God has given you? How would you respond if your job, your home, your family were all taken from you?
16. Sauls see only Absaloms; Absaloms see only Sauls. Neither can recognize a David. How can we distinguish one from the others? Is it true that we can never be certain whether a leader is a Saul or a David, that only God can truly know?
17. The person who wields the rod of God’s authority should be the meekest, a broken man, lest his people live in terror. What kind of authority does a true leader have? How should he or she respond to that commission? How should his or her followers respond to that individual?
Please turn the page for an excerpt from The Prisoner in the Third Cell . . .
Chapter 6
People came to hear John because they were seeking something to fill a deep vacancy in their lives.
Merchants came to hear him and repented of their business practices, and were then baptized in the fabled waters of the Jordan. Soldiers came, repented of their brutality, and were baptized. The camel drivers came, the farmers, the rustic fishermen, housewives, women of renown, women of the streets, all kinds and all classes came. And all who came, it seemed, came holding some secret sin, repented thereof, and disappeared beneath the Jordan waters.
Every Jew knew the ancient meaning of a soul’s being plunged beneath the water of that particular river. It meant the end of life, the cessation of everything. Everyone awaiting baptism stood on the eastern bank, which was a foreign land. There they stepped into the water and disappeared . . . there to die. But each came up out of the water and stepped onto the western bank, safe within the border of the Promised Land, there to begin a new life with God. This simple drama was unforgettable.
There was one particular day at the Jordan that stood out from all others. It began with the arrival of horse-drawn carriages. A delegation of dignitaries had arrived. What important personages had come out to this obscure place?
It was the nation’s religious leaders.
When John saw these costumed men, every muscle in his body became motionless. There was not one outer movement on his countenance to betray his inward feelings. As these religious dignitaries cut through the crowd, John watched as ordinary people dropped their heads or genuflected in a gesture of honor. This did not at all set well with the greatest nonconformist of all time.
John read every man as he stepped out of the carriages. Some had obviously come to sneer, to gather evidence against John, and to condemn. Others came with a great deal of uncertainty, hoping to discover for themselves whether or not John was a true prophet. There were even a few among them, the youngest, who came truly believing that John was a man of God. These young men hoped the older, more respected leaders might agree with their unspoken opinion. After all, if the older leaders gave their blessing to John, some of the young men knew they would be free to become his disciples.
But John saw more than this. He looked in the heart of every man now making his way through the midst of the crowd, and discerned the ultimate weakness of each one. There was not one among them brave enough, on his own, to break with accepted religious traditions.
The crowd continued giving way before these vaunted leaders. The delegation was on its way to the front of the crowd, to take their rightful place of honor. This was more than the desert prophet could ever hope to stomach. The religious system of his day, coming here? And daring to impose their abominable practices here? How dare they come! How dare they bring their arrogance, contempt, disdain, and pride to this place!
John had not come to this earth to compromise, nor to win over such men to the ways of God. After all,
these men saw themselves as authorities in God’s ways. John would not attempt to do the impossible: He would not call the leaders of the religious system to come out of that system. Yet the presence of these men was perverting the freedom which the baptized ones had gained as they laid aside the systemization of this world.
John, therefore, declared war. Open, unbridled, unquartered war . . . on Israel’s most revered personages. He wanted every human being present to know how he felt about the chains which traditionalists had forged upon the hearts and souls of God’s people. And just how did he feel? He felt this whole religious culture must perish.
There was nothing John could do better than thunder, and on this occasion he roared like a lion. Thrusting out the forefinger of one hand, he shattered earth and heaven with his denunciation.
“Who . . . who, I ask . . . who told you to repent?
You nest of snakes, what are you doing here?”
The crowd was stunned. No one had ever talked this way to these men. Many in the crowd instinctively rose to their feet; after a moment, wide grins began to appear on the faces of some. But every eye was now riveted on the religious leaders. What would be their reaction? And, was it possible . . . had John committed some kind of blasphemy? The people knew the rumors about John being possessed of a demon; this was not going to help. They loved him for his boldness, yet no one ever dreamed he would take on the religious leaders of their nation. No one did that!
Shock turned to disbelief as John continued.
“I ask you again, you nest of snakes, who told you to turn away from the wrath that is coming on you?”
The religious leaders stopped. No one could speak to them in this way. After a brief moment, one of the leaders pulled his cloak up about him, turned and whispered something to those nearest him. They, in turn, signaled to the others to make a sudden retreat.