"But if he says, 'I have no pleasure in you,'" then here I am; let Him do what seems good to Him (a paraphrase of 2 Samuel 15:26).

David continues to experience the temporal consequences of his sin against Uriah the Hittite. His son Absalom has usurped the throne and will publicly disgrace his father's household. David does not protest his punishment but humbly accepts it, holding out hope for God's mercy.

Remember, David had already lost his first son with Bathsheba as a consequence of his sin. He then lost Amnon. Soon he would lose Absalom as well. All this came after Nathan told David that God had forgiven his sin (2 Samuel 12:13). Forgiveness did not mean the absence of temporal consequences. So we read: "God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap"; the one who sows to the flesh will reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will reap eternal life (a paraphrase of Galatians 6:7–8).

Again, from Hebrews we read: "My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord," nor be weary when reproved, for the Lord disciplines the one He loves (a paraphrase of Hebrews 12:5–6).

David endured the Lord's discipline. He understood that God does not discipline His children for their harm but for their good, so that they may have a proper reverence for Him.

Friends, when God disciplines us with temporal consequences, the proper response is not to grumble and complain but to accept the discipline humbly and patiently await His mercy. Remembering that God disciplines us for our good will help us respond rightly: "For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant," but later yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it (a paraphrase of Hebrews 12:11).

AI-Expanded Reflection

David's words in 2 Samuel 15:25–26 come as he flees Jerusalem barefoot and weeping. He sends the ark back to the city with Zadok, refusing to use it as a talisman, and leaves the outcome entirely with God — "if I find favor in the eyes of the Lord, he will bring me back"; and if not, then let Him do as He sees fit. This is the same David who, decades earlier, had spared Saul rather than seizing the throne by force. His instinct in crisis was to leave God's decisions to God.

The chapter also shows the discipline Nathan had foretold (12:10–12) unfolding through human choices: Absalom's ambition, Ahithophel's betrayal, and the fickleness of the people. Scripture holds God's discipline and human responsibility together without tension. And the comment's emphasis is well placed: the sins forgiven in 2 Samuel 12 still bore consequences, yet David remained God's child throughout. Hebrews 12 says exactly that — discipline is proof of sonship, not of rejection (12:7–8).

"Amnon was so tormented that he made himself ill because of his sister Tamar," for she was a virgin, and it seemed impossible to him to do anything to her (a paraphrase of 2 Samuel 13:2).

When I first read this account, I thought the frustration Amnon felt was a moral frustration, and I felt some sympathy. Now I see that it was not a moral struggle but a strategic one. He could not figure out how to get what he wanted.

Amnon was not battling temptation. He had already given in to it. His self-induced illness was entirely about how to fulfill his desire. He needed the scheming of his "friend" Jonadab to help him carry out his intent. As the saying goes, "With friends like that, who needs enemies?"

Amnon's struggle is not like the Christian's struggle with temptation. The Christian's struggle is better pictured in Paul's account: he does not understand his own actions, for he does not do what he wants, but the very thing he hates; he has the desire to do what is right but cannot carry it out; in his inner being he delights in God's law, but he sees another law waging war against the law of his mind, "making me captive to the law of sin" (a paraphrase of Romans 7:15–23).

Our agony is not the inability to devise a strategy to fulfill our desires, but the recognition of the wrongness of those desires and a deeper longing to do what is right and good. The writer of Hebrews urges Christians to look to Jesus as the supreme example of One who did not give way to sin even in the face of shame and death: since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set before us, "looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith," who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of God's throne; consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted — in your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted "to the point of shedding your blood" (a paraphrase of Hebrews 12:1–4).

Jesus obeyed God even to death. The writer of Hebrews reminds us that we have not yet resisted to that point. Jesus endured because He looked forward to "the joy set before him." The Old Testament saints endured because they hoped in a glorious future. We are encouraged to do the same in our struggle against sin.

I wonder whether King David ever had conversations with his sons about moral struggle, or whether the shame of his own failure took away his confidence to do so. I wonder whether he simply hoped the consequences Nathan had prophesied would not come to pass, so that he could put the whole ordeal behind him.

But every consequence did come to pass, from the death of the first child born to David and Bathsheba to a cascade of violent and morally destructive events involving David's sons Amnon and Absalom. Even Solomon was not immune from moral and spiritual disaster. Yet these events were recorded for us, so that we might learn from them. As Paul writes, "these things happened to them as an example," and they were written down for our instruction (cf. 1 Corinthians 10:11).

I am reminded not only to pursue moral purity unceasingly but also to teach my daughter diligently and openly how to recognize and avoid the moral pitfalls she is bound to encounter in one form or another.

I encourage fellow Christian parents to do the same. Simply sheltering our children from evil is not enough. We must also strengthen their defenses by giving them a good example to follow and by teaching them sound values and practical principles from God's Word.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Any reading of 2 Samuel 13 should give attention to Tamar, whom the narrative treats with real sympathy. She pleaded with her brother — "No, my brother, do not violate me," for such a thing is not done in Israel (13:12) — and afterward she tore her robe, put ashes on her head, and "went away, crying aloud as she went" (13:19). The text says she "lived, a desolate woman, in her brother Absalom's house" (13:20). It also records the failures of those who should have protected her: her father David "was very angry, but he would not punish his son Amnon" (13:21), and her brother Absalom told her to "hold your peace" (13:20) while nursing a vengeance that later erupted in murder. Scripture does not hide the harm done to her or the failures of the men around her.

The comment's contrast between Amnon's calculation and the believer's struggle is well drawn. James describes the progression Amnon followed: desire conceives and gives birth to sin, and sin when fully grown brings forth death (James 1:14–15). And 13:15 records the grim aftermath — "Amnon hated her with very great hatred" — a picture of how lust, once satisfied, turns on its object. The comment's resolve to teach these realities to his child rather than merely shelter her reflects Proverbs, which was written precisely to warn a young person about such pitfalls before encountering them (Proverbs 5–7).

Fernando's comments were misplaced, so I have moved them here to the correct location.

On Wednesday, June 5, 2013, Fernando wrote:

2 Samuel 15. David, whether by intent or by the course of events, has positioned himself well.

He leaves the city with his faithful bodyguard, the Cherethites and Pelethites. But he tests the Gittites, suggesting they should stay, since they had only just arrived — why should they burden themselves with him? Tactically, it is better not to enter such a time with uncommitted friends who could become a weakness to you and an advantage to your enemy. At such a critical time, no opportunities should be given away.

Then, though Abiathar and the priests are willing to go with him, David sends them back. He also sends Hushai back to position himself as a counselor to Absalom. After David prays that Ahithophel's counsel be turned to foolishness, and Hushai is explicitly sent to undermine it, the chapter wraps up as a tactic-filled passage in which David works to retain power without using the sword.

The spiritual weapons used here are wide-ranging: prayer that Ahithophel's counsel become foolishness, the placing of a man whose counsel is meant to frustrate evil, and the cultivation of an environment and culture of faithfulness.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Fernando's reading of 2 Samuel 15 draws out David's shrewdness, and the chapter also shows his remarkable humility. When the Gittite commander Ittai insisted on coming — "whether for death or for life, there also will your servant be" (15:21) — his words echoed Ruth's loyalty to Naomi, and David accepted him. When the priests brought the ark, David sent it back: if he found favor with the Lord, God would bring him back; if not, "let him do to me what seems good to him" (15:25–26). David did not treat the ark as a lucky charm, as Israel had done in Eli's day (1 Samuel 4:3). He entrusted his future to God.

The scene of David weeping as he climbed the Mount of Olives, barefoot and with his head covered (15:30), is one of the most moving in his story — fleeing from his own son, betrayed by his trusted counselor Ahithophel. Many readers have noticed the parallel with Jesus, who about a thousand years later crossed the Kidron and went to the Mount of Olives on the night He was betrayed by a trusted companion (John 18:1). Psalm 3, titled "when he fled from Absalom his son," gives David's prayer from this moment: "But you, O Lord, are a shield about me" (3:3).

But Absalom did not speak to Amnon either good or bad; for Absalom hated Amnon because he had violated his sister Tamar. Now it came about after two full years that Absalom had sheepshearers in Baal-hazor, which is near Ephraim, and Absalom invited all the king’s sons (2 Samuel 13:22–23).

Now it came about at the end of forty years [likely a copyist’s error: "four years"] that Absalom said to the king, “Please let me go and pay my vow which I have vowed to the Lord, in Hebron (2 Samuel 15:7).

Absalom took two years to hatch a plot to kill his half-brother Amnon for raping his sister Tamar. He took four years to recruit followers to usurp his father David's throne. There's no doubt that Absalom was a very capable man. And we are told that he also had a stunning appearance. He may have even become a great king of Israel; however, his character was flawed.

Absalom excelled in scheming and deception, as his plots against Amnon and David reveal. He was unafraid in resorting to treachery to gain advantage for himself. He burned Joab's grain field in order to get his attention. He openly raped his father's concubines to strengthen his position on the throne. He loved pomp and royal pretensions. He provided for himself both a chariot and horses and fifty men to run before him. He even raised a monument to himself (2 Samuel 18:18).

The capable but character-flawed are among the most dangerous people. They are in the company of men like Hitler, Stalin and Mao, through whom millions faced senseless death. They are like Bernie Madoff, who used his financial acumen and winning personality to con people of billions of dollars. They are like Kim Jong Il, who starved and manipulated his people to exact servitude and retain power for himself.

But I would rather be good than smart. I would rather be good than great. This is the example of our Lord Jesus Christ,

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:6–8).

Jesus humbled Himself and waited for God to exalt Him in due time. I would like this to be my testimony as well. I pray that I will never find myself defending position, power, or authority but simply doing the right things and trusting the Lord to defend me as He sees fit.

Friends, we live in a day when politicians have become intoxicated with power and influence, so that they no longer diligently, honorably and selflessly represent the people. We live in a day when many ministers too have become intoxicated by excessive praise from their parishioners, having a steady income from their ministries, building lavish church buildings and monuments, and enjoying "divine" authority. They have become guilty of catering to the people rather than faithfully preaching the Word. They are found to preach one thing but practice another and, by their example, they give permission for their members to do the same.

I remember someone telling me in no uncertain terms, I cannot let you undermine my authority by teaching from the Bible something different from what I have taught. The concern was not for truth but for their own authority, as if there is any authority apart from the truth of God's Word. Even Paul wrote,

What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow (1 Corinthians 3:5–7).

Now, brothers and sisters, I have applied these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit, so that you may learn from us the meaning of the saying, “Do not go beyond what is written.” Then you will not be puffed up in being a follower of one of us over against the other. For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not? (1 Corinthians 4:6–7).

Paul, thus, declared that he and Apollos, just as the Corinthian believers, were really nothing but servants bound by the limits of God's written Word.

David's greatness was not primarily in his abilities but in his faith. He is not best known for being a great leader but rather for being a man after God's own heart. Capability without character means nothing at all, and is worse than nothing, because it is destructive for the person and everyone influenced by them.

Friends, do not pray that you might be more influential but that you might be more holy. Rather than the popular prayer of Jabez, I would encourage the attitude of John the Baptist, who said, "He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:30).

AI-Expanded Reflection

Absalom's patience and strategic skill are undeniable within the narrative. He waits before arranging Amnon's death, cultivates public loyalty, and uses appearances to strengthen his position. Yet the story shows how capability becomes dangerous when governed by grievance, entitlement, and ambition. A person can understand people well enough to manipulate them without caring for their good. Intelligence and charisma therefore cannot substitute for moral formation.

The account of Tamar must remain central to the beginning of this story. She suffers sexual violence, and David's anger does not produce a recorded act of justice against Amnon. Absalom's hatred grows in a household where grave harm has not been properly addressed. This context does not justify his murder or later rebellion, but it prevents us from treating his character as though it developed in a vacuum. Failed accountability creates conditions in which vengeance can present itself as the only remaining answer.

The chronological note in 2 Samuel 15:7 is a genuine textual issue. The Masoretic Hebrew reads forty years, while several translations adopt four in light of other textual evidence and the narrative setting. The original appropriately signals the difficulty; the shorter reading should not be presented as though there were no manuscript question. The NET note on 2 Samuel 15:7 explains why its translators use four.

The historical examples of destructive leaders and fraud in the original illustrate the same general concern, but they should not replace careful attention to the particular case. Financial totals associated with the Madoff fraud vary according to whether one means claimed account balances, actual principal, funds passing through accounts, or later recoveries. A single unsupported figure can obscure those distinctions. The moral point does not depend on selecting a dramatic number: skill used to deceive and exploit is a corruption of responsibility. The court's sentencing transcript itself discusses differing measures.

Philippians 2 presents a radically different use of status. Christ does not exploit equality with God for selfish advantage but takes the form of a servant and obeys through the cross. His humility is not lack of ability; it is the direction of ability toward obedient self-giving. Christian leadership should therefore aim at more than being less ambitious. It should seek the positive strength to serve, tell the truth, accept limits, and bear costs for the good of others.

Paul's description of himself and Apollos reinforces this pattern. Their work matters, but neither is the source of the life God gives. Remembering that gifts are received can make correction less threatening. A teacher need not defend an error merely because others first learned it from him. Admitting a mistake may strengthen the credibility of the ministry more than preserving an appearance of infallibility.

The original's preference for holiness over influence is a useful ordering of desire. Influence itself can serve good purposes, but it should remain accountable to character. We can ask whether success makes us more teachable, whether those with less power can question us safely, and whether we seek restitution when our decisions harm others. Christlike greatness is not the absence of strength. It is strength governed by truth, humility, and love rather than the need to control the story told about ourselves.

David walked up the road to the Mount of Olives, weeping as he went, his head covered and his feet bare in mourning, and the people with him covered their heads and wept as they climbed (a reference to 2 Samuel 15:30).

One moment David is king, victorious in every battle, with nation after nation sending tribute. The next he is fleeing from his own son, who has usurped his throne and threatens his life. Yet this is not a reversal of fortune but the fulfillment of God's word of judgment regarding David's sin.

I reflected this morning that a few weeks ago everything was going well — work, family, ministry, health, finances. This morning I saw how everything hangs by a thread, and I have had one restless night after another. So I prayed in bed, as is my custom. I praised Him for everything I am and have. But I also praised Him for who He is, and for what I value most: that He be pleased with me.

I know everything can turn upside down in a moment. The Lord reminded me from His Word that I should not rely on these things or let them direct my life. As Job said, the LORD gives and the LORD takes away. The important thing is not so much what is given or taken, but the LORD, who remains, and remains sovereign.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The personal disclosure gives this its weight, and it is worth noticing what it does not claim. There is no assertion that the anxiety resolved or that the restless nights stopped. What is described is a decision about where to direct attention while the uncertainty was still present, which is a more honest and more reproducible account than a testimony of relief would be.

The passage it draws on supports that. David goes up weeping, barefoot, head covered — he does not conceal the grief or reframe it. And in the same chapter he sends the ark back to Jerusalem rather than taking it with him, saying that if he finds favor the LORD will bring him back, and if not, then let Him do what seems good. That is the posture the comment describes arriving at, and David reaches it in the middle of the flight rather than after it.

The sons of David

David's sons born in Hebron are listed by name — Amnon, his firstborn, by Ahinoam; Kileab, by Abigail; Absalom, by Maacah; Adonijah, by Haggith; Shephatiah, by Abital; and Ithream, by Eglah (a paraphrase of 2 Samuel 3:2–5).

In today's reading, we see the beginning of David's family disintegrating. Amnon, David's firstborn, rapes his half-sister Tamar. What should the punishment have been? The Law forbade sexual relations with a sister, whether a full or half-sister, on penalty of being cut off from the people entirely (a paraphrase of Leviticus 18:9, 29). Amnon should have faced this consequence — but seems to have received no punishment whatsoever. Two years later, Absalom murders Amnon to avenge his sister's rape (2 Samuel 13). Absalom commits premeditated murder — a crime the Law also addressed directly, requiring the death penalty for anyone who takes another human life (a paraphrase of Leviticus 24:17). Later still, Absalom sleeps with his own father's concubines — an act the Law addresses with the death penalty for both parties as well (a paraphrase of Leviticus 20:11). Absalom commits at least two capital crimes.

Watching David's family fall apart this way, I understand more clearly why Christ had to die on the cross for our sins. Reflecting on humanity's sinful nature and inclination toward evil, without Christ's atoning sacrifice, we'd all be found equally guilty — we've all, like sheep, gone astray, each turning to our own way (Isaiah 53:6) — yet Christ poured out His life to death, numbered among transgressors, bearing the sin of many, interceding even for those who wronged Him (a paraphrase of Isaiah 53:12).

Let's remember what Christ accomplished for us through His death on the cross.

AI-Expanded Reflection

One small correction: the death penalty for taking another's life is Leviticus 24:17, not 24:7 (which concerns the bread of the Presence placed in the Tabernacle — unrelated content). Beyond that correction, the pattern this comment traces — capital crime after capital crime going entirely unpunished within David's own household — is worth naming as its own kind of consequence for David's earlier failure with Bathsheba and Uriah, covered elsewhere in this project. A king who couldn't hold himself accountable for his own capital crime seems to have lost, at least for a season, whatever moral authority would have been needed to hold his own children accountable for theirs — suggesting the "sword" Nathan promised wouldn't depart from David's house (2 Samuel 12:10) operated at least partly through this exact mechanism: a father's own unaddressed guilt quietly disarming his ability to administer justice within his own family.

I was reminded of what the Lord told David through Nathan after his sins of adultery and murder — that calamity would come from within his own household, his wives taken and given to someone close to him, who would sleep with them in broad daylight, in contrast to David's own secret sin (a paraphrase of 2 Samuel 12:11–12). As we know, this points to Absalom, probably David's most handsome son, who later rebels and sleeps with David's concubines, symbolizing his claim over the kingdom to its subjects.

What's mysterious is that, from today's reading, we can already see the relational rift slowly forming between Absalom and David well before this. After Amnon rapes his half-sister Tamar and disgracefully throws her out, Scripture says nothing about how David actually handled the matter, beyond simply being furious. I assume he never punished Amnon for this act, forbidden explicitly by the Law (a paraphrase of Leviticus 18:9) — no justice was done, perhaps because David felt too guilty over his own sin with Bathsheba to act. Absalom eventually murders Amnon himself and flees. Thanks to Joab's intervention, he's later allowed to return to Jerusalem, though David initially refuses to see him — eventually accepting him back with a kiss, though I'm not sure how much reconciliation that gesture actually represented.

In the end, it seems God announces judgment for sin, but the actual mechanism of that judgment is carried out through our own choices and behavior. The lesson I take from today's text is that God's sovereignty over the future isn't fatalism — it's somehow mysteriously connected to our own decisions. I once spoke with a Muslim taxi driver who refused to wear a seatbelt, saying "Inshallah" — it's up to God — insisting he'd die whenever Allah willed it, seatbelt or not. It struck me that his own lack of caution, not God's will specifically, might well be what actually costs him his life one day. Brothers and sisters, let's not be ignorant of God's Word, staying wise so we don't fall into our own folly.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The distinction this comment draws between God's announced judgment and the actual human mechanism that carries it out is worth naming as one of Scripture's more consistent patterns — prophecy and human free choice aren't presented as competing explanations for the same event, but as two levels of the same reality operating simultaneously. Nathan's prophecy identifies what God has determined will happen; Absalom's own pride, resentment, and ambition are what actually accomplish it, freely chosen and fully his own responsibility. This comment's own conclusion — that sovereignty isn't fatalism — captures exactly that layered structure: God's declared purpose and genuine human agency operating together, neither one canceling out the other.