Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
history. Enemy nations now respect this powerful new country. David is healthy and happy. He has not known defeat on the battlefield, which means his immediate world is relatively peaceful. His economy and diplomacy are a refreshing change from Saul's. There was not only a chicken in every pot, there were grapes on every vine. It is a rare scene of incredible prosperity and God-given peace.
Overwhelmed by the Lord's goodness and grace, the middle-aged king muses over all his blessings. While doing so, he must have enjoyed a nostalgic moment, remembering his former friendship with Jonathan, which prompts him to ask:
... "Is there yet anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" (2 Sam. 9:1)
It's a question of grace asked by a grateful man.
Those of you who find yourself at a similar time in your own life know there are occasions when you will do that kind of reflecting. You think back and remember with fondness some pleasant relationship . . . some individual who played a significant role in your being where you are today. You smile, you wish there were some special way you could show your appreciation, but perhaps your long-time friend or mentor is dead.
This is precisely where we find David. Most likely he remembers the tender moment in his past when he and Jonathan agreed to preserve and protect one another, no matter what.
". . . And may the Lord be with you as He has been with my father. And if I am still alive, will you not show me the lovingkindness of the Lord, that I may not die? And you shall not cut off your lovingkindness from my house forever, not even when the Lord cuts off every one of the enemies of David from the face of the earth." So Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, "May the Lord require it at the hands of David's enemies." And Jonathan made David vow again because of his love for him, because he loved him as he loved his own life. (1 Sam. 20:13-17)
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
While lost in his memory, David has a flashback. Recalling that promise, he seeks a way to make it good. I don't want you to miss the importance of one term David used:
. . . "Is there yet anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" (2 Sam. 9:1)
It's the Hebrew word chesed, often rendered mercy, loving-kindness, or grace in the Old Testament. Is there anyone still living in the family of Saul to whom I could demonstrate the same kind of grace that God has demonstrated to me? That's the idea turning over in David's mind.
I love the question for what it does not ask. It does not ask, "Is there anyone who is deserving? Is there anyone who is qualified? Is there anyone who is sharp, whom I could use in government matters ... or in good shape whom I could add to my army?" No, he simply asks, "Is there anyone?" It is an unconditional desire, a question dripping with grace. "I'm wondering if there is anybody out there?"
David has a "Yes" face at this nostalgic moment. But something tells me that the servant he calls in has a "No" face. His name is Ziba. Listen to his answer and feel the "No" in his voice.
Now there was a servant of the house of Saul whose name was Ziba, and they called him to David; and the king said to him, "Are you Ziba?" And he said, "I am your servant." And the king said, "Is there not yet anyone of the house of Saul to whom I may show the kindness of God?" And Ziba said to the king, "There is still a son of Jonathan who is crippled in both feet." (2 Sam. 9:2-3)
Can't you feel the "No" in his response, even though it was affirmative? Of course. "King David, I know of someone . . . but I really doubt that you'd want him around. You see, he's crippled. He just doesn't fit in. He isn't kingly." Which,
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
being interpreted in unmasked pride, sniffs, "He's not like the rest of us."
I love the response of King David. Rather than "Oh, really? How badly is the man crippled?" David responds, "Where is he? If there's somebody, anybody . . . let's get him in here." What grace! Perhaps a bit surprised, "Ziba said to the king, 'Behold, he is in the house of Machir the son of Ammiel in Lo-debar'" (2 Sam. 9:4).
Lo-debar, interestingly, in Hebrew, means "a barren place." In English, the name of the place could be translated "no pasture land." It's as if the servant is saying that Jonathan's son is living in a place of stark barrenness—a place where there are no crops, a wilderness ... a wasteland. There is not a moment's hesitation. David had heard enough to put a plan into action.
A Cripple Sought
Then King David sent and brought him from the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, from Lo-debar. And Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan the son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and prostrated himself. And David said, "Mephibosheth." And he said, "Here is your servant!" And David said to him, "Do not fear, for I will surely show kindness to you for the sake of your father Jonathan, and will restore to you all the land of your grandfather Saul; and you shall eat at my table regularly." (2 Sam. 9:5-7)
The crippled man was obviously frightened when he arrived at the king's palace in Jerusalem. The watchword of his life since he was a little boy had been anonymity. He never wanted to be found, certainly not by the king who succeeded his grandfather. To do so would mean sure death. And yet there was no way he could say no when David sent for him. Before he knew it, he was whisked away in a chariot provided for him; and before he could believe it, there he stood before the king.
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
All that explains why David's words must have stunned Mephibosheth. They fit David, however. When grace is in your heart, your hope is to release others from fear, not create it.
Let me interrupt this wonderful story to ask you a question about Jesus, the One who was "full of grace and truth." Do you know what was the most often-repeated command from His lips? Most people I ask are unable to answer that question correctly. Our Lord issued numerous commands, but He made this one more than any other. Do you happen to know what it was? It was this: "Fear not." Isn't that great? "Do not fear." Naturally, the most common reaction when someone stood before the perfect Son of God would have been fear. And yet Jesus, great in grace, repeatedly said, "Do not be afraid." He didn't meet people with a deep frown, looking down on them and swinging a club. He met them with open arms and reassuring words, "Don't be afraid." Those are the words David used before Mephibosheth. They drip with grace.
Mephibosheth's first reaction must have been the fear of a spear in his belly. Small wonder he says, "Here is your servant!" as he falls on his face before the king. "Don't be afraid," says David, but the crippled man cannot stop shaking. It is as if David wants to say, "I haven't sought for you to punish you for something you've done or not done. I have good in mind for you, not harm. I want to lift you up, not tear you down." The secret of David's entire message to the man could be stated in seven words, "I will surely show kindness to you."
A Privilege Provided
Don't miss something that's terribly important in the overall message of grace. David wanted to show kindness not because of Mephibosheth (he didn't even know the man before they met that day), but to show kindness "for the sake of your father Jonathan. ..." Mephibosheth still can't believe what's happening. "Again he prostrated himself and said, 'What is your servant, that you should regard a dead dog like me?'" (2 Sam.
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
9:8). In calling himself "a dead dog" he uses the most descriptive words he could think of for a contemptuous, despicable, worthless creature. "I'm just a dead dog, living in Lo-debar. Why not just leave me alone in my misery?"
Remember when you said that to God? Has it been that long since you and He met? Or could you have already forgotten? Candidly, this is one of my all-time favorite stories in the Old Testament because its portrayal of grace is so powerful. Here is a man who is unknown, of no consequence to the king, and is crippled in both his feet. He can give nothing of benefit to the kingdom so far as physical strength is concerned. There was
absolutely zero personal appeal; but David stooped in grace. Due to a relationship David had with his long-time friend Jonathan, the king is going to provide Mephibosheth the privileges and benefits he would have given his own son.
Swiftly and completely, the king kept his word. Watch it transpire . . . it's wonderful!
Then the king called Saul's servant Ziba, and said to him, "All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to your master's grandson." (2 Sam. 9:9)
Ziba must have shaken his head in amazement.
And you and your sons and your servants shall cultivate the land for him, and you shall bring in the produce so that your master's grandson may have food; nevertheless Mephibosheth your master's grandson shall eat at my table regularly. . . ." (2 Sam. 9:10)
Four separate times in the biblical account we read that the cripple would eat at the king's table—verses 7, 10, 11 and finally verse 13: "So Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, for he ate at the king's table regularly. Now he was lame in both his feet" (2 Sam. 9:13).
What a scene! What grace! From that time on he was welcome at the king's table of continual nourishment and
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
uninterrupted provisions. Undeserving ... yet unconditionally loved. Mephibosheth's head must have swirled for days as he forced himself to believe his new situation wasn't a dream.
Imagine a typical scene several years later. The dinner bell rings through the king's palace and David comes to the head of the table and sits down. In a few moments Amnon—clever, crafty Amnon—sits to the left of David. Lovely and gracious Tamar, a charming and beautiful young woman, arrives and sits beside Amnon. And then across the way, Solomon walks slowly from his study; precocious, brilliant, preoccupied Solomon. The heir apparent slowly sits down. And then Absalom—handsome, winsome Absalom with beautiful flowing hair, black as a raven, down to his shoulders—sits down. That particular evening Joab, the courageous warrior and David's commander of the troops, has been invited to dinner. Muscular, bronzed Joab is seated near the king. Afterward, they wait. They hear the shuffling of feet, the clump, clump, clump of the crutches as Mephibosheth rather awkwardly finds his place at the table and slips into his seat . . . and the tablecloth covers his feet. I ask you: Did Mephibosheth understand grace?
Were he living today I think he would quickly identify with the words from the hymn by John Newton:
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come; 'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home. 5
SEEING THE ANALOGIES OF GRACE
Maybe you have already noticed some of the analogies between the grace demonstrated to Mephibosheth and the grace extended to you and me. I find no fewer than eight:
1. Once Mephibosheth enjoyed fellowship with his father.
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
And so did the original couple, Adam and Eve, in the lovely Garden of Eden.
2. When disaster struck, fear came, and Mephibosheth suffered a fall that crippled him for the rest of his life. And so it was when sin came, humanity suffered a fall which has left us permanently crippled on earth.
3. David, the king, out of unconditional love for his beloved friend Jonathan sought out anyone to whom he might extend his grace. In like manner, God the Father, because of His unconditional acceptance of His one and only Son's death on the cross, continues to seek anyone to whom He might extend His grace.
4. The crippled man had nothing, did nothing, and deserved nothing. He didn't even try to win the king's favor. All he could do was humbly accept it. So we—sinners without hope and totally undeserving, in no way worthy of our God's favor—humbly accept it.
5. The king restored the cripple from his miserable existence ... a place of barrenness and desolation ... to a place of fellowship and honor. God, our Father, has done the same for us. From our own, personal "Lo-debar" of broken-ness and depravity, He rescued us and brought us into a place of spiritual nourishment and intimate closeness.
6. David adopted Mephibosheth into his royal family, providing him with uninterrupted provisions, nourishment, and blessings. We, too, have been adopted as sons and daughters into His royal ranks, surrounded by ceaseless delights.
7. The adopted son's limp was a constant reminder of the king's grace. Our imperfect state keeps us from ever forgetting that where sin abounds, grace super abounds.
8. When Mephibosheth sat at the king's table, he was treated as one of David's own sons—no less than Absalom or Solomon. When we feast one day with our Lord, the same will be true.
There we shall sit alongside Paul and Peter, Lydia and Priscilla, Mary and Phoebe, James, John, Barnabas, and Luke . . . martyrs, monks, reformers and evangelists, seminary
Undeserving, Yet Unconditionally Loved
presidents and professors, ministers and missionaries, authors and statesmen alike, with no emphasis on rank or title ... no special regard for high achievement. Why? Because we are all so undeserving, every one of us. Cripples all! And oh, how we'll sing God's praise.
When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun, We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun. 6
All our praise will go to the One who came and died, arose and lives. His name is Jesus; His message is grace. Few have ever pictured Him and His message more clearly than John Bunyan:
Thou Son of the Blessed,
what grace was manifested in Thy condescension. Grace brought Thee down from Heaven; grace stripped Thee of Thy glory; grace made Thee poor and despised; grace made Thee bear such burdens of sin, such burdens of sorrow,
such burdens of God's curse as are unspeakable. O Son of God! Grace was in all Thy tears; grace came out of Thy side with Thy blood; grace came forth with every word of Thy sweet mouth; grace came out where the whip smote Thee, where the thorn pricked Thee, and where the nails pierced Thee. Here is grace indeed! Grace to make angels wonder, grace to make sinners happy, grace to astonish devils. 7
Gathered with all the people of God at that great Marriage Feast of the Lamb, the tablecloth of His grace will cover all our crippling needs.
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Squaring Off Against Legalism
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'iberty is always worth fighting for. It is the main reason Americans have laid down their lives for their country. If we were to interview any of those people who have fought in battle and ask, "Why did you live in those miserable and dangerous conditions?" or "What was it that kept you out there fighting for your country?" the response would probably include words like, "Well, our liberty was at stake . . . I love my country, and our freedom was being threatened by the enemy. I wanted to defend it, and if necessary, I would still fight to the death for it." Back in our earliest days as a nation, a determined thirty-nine-year-old, radical-thinking attorney addressed the Virginia Convention. It was on March 23, 1775, a time of great patriotic passion. And his patriotism refused to be silenced any longer. Sounding more like a prophet of God than a patriot for his country, he announced:
If we wish to be free we must fight! ... I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us. It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. The gentlemen may cry "Peace, peace!" but there is no peace. The war has actually begun! . . . Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle? . . . Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God. I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!'
Squaring Off Against Legalism
What a soul-stirring speech! We applaud the courageous passion of Patrick Henry to this day. Because of it he remains in our minds as one of our national heroes.
Not quite ninety years later we were fighting one another in our country's worst bloodbath. And again I remind you, it was for the cause of liberty. The issue was
slavery versus freedom. The black people of our nation were not free. It was the conviction of the United States government that they should be free, and if necessary we would take up arms against those who opposed their liberation from slavery.
Charles Sumner did a masterful job of summing up the issue of the Civil War in a speech he made on November 5, 1864: "Where Slavery is, there Liberty cannot be; and where Liberty is, there Slavery cannot be." 2
I find it more than strange. Actually, I find it amazing that we as a nation will fight other nations for our national liberty, and that we as a people will, if necessary, fight one another for the freedom of those within our borders, but when it comes to the living out of our Christianity, we will give up our liberty without a fight. We'll go to the wall and square off against any enemy who threatens to take away our national freedom, but we'll not be nearly so passionate as Christians under grace to fight for our rightful liberty. Let enough legalists come aboard and we will virtually give them command of the ship. We will fear their frowns, we will adapt our lives to their lists, we'll allow ourselves to be intimidated, and for the sake of peace at any price (even though it may lead to nothing short of slavery), we will succumb to their agenda.
This is nothing new. As far back as 1963, S. Lewis Johnson, one of my seminary professors, wrote an excellent article titled "The Paralysis of Legalism." In it he put his finger on the crux of the problem.
One of the most serious problems facing the orthodox Christian church today is the problem of legalism. One of the
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