2 Samuel 12:22-23 And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether GOD will be gracious to me… The point of transition from the state of awful impenitence in which David had for so long a period continued, to a consciousness of his true position and to contrition for his crime, resembled the crisis of some perilous malady. The sovereign mercy and free grace of a faithful God brought him safely through the trial; and the result was "life from the dead." A well known, but not a less marvellous phenomenon of the natural world may serve to shadow forth the further stage of experience involved in David's complete restoration to a state of grace. When the blasts of winter have set in, and the sound of its unkindly storms sweeps over the listening ear — when mist and fog cloud the cheering light, and intercept the genial warmth of heaven — who has not felt it a sad and sickening task, to trace the change which even the fairest earthly paradise will present, as compared with its blooming spring, its fragrant summer, or its fruitful autumn? We walk amidst the drear and silent scene, like lingering mourners in nature's cemetery. The melody of the woods is hushed; the woods themselves are dressed in funeral garb; the streams hurry black and moodily through the bare and blighted scene — or else, arrested in their course, are held frost-bound in the chain of winter. Days, weeks, months pass on, and still the landscape frowns in sackcloth, amidst the gloom and chill and death which seems unalterable and fixed. At length there comes a wondrous and more than magic transformation. The sun walks forth in glory from his heavenly tabernacle, "as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof." Such and so great — yea, rather, greater and far more blessed — was the revival wrought in the soul of David, after the beams of Divine grace had once more visited it with light, and love. The streams of godly sorrow were unloosed, and the waters flowed: "the fruits of the Spirit," which seem to have sprung from a ground "nigh unto cursing," appear in all their former beauty; the Word of the Lord had gone forth with power. The passage immediately before us contains the penitent monarch's own account of that which, in the eyes of his sympathising servants, appeared mysterious and paradoxical. The explanation relates to two distinct periods; and accordingly, our consideration of it will lead us to notice David's conduct and the ground thereof. I. DURING THE SICKNESS. 1. In the first place, we read in the sixteenth verse that "David besought God for the child." He carried the burden which oppressed him, the grief which consumed him, to that merciful God who had so often heard the voice of his weeping. Instead of seeking many physicians, he repaired at once to the all-wise and all-powerful Physician; so that in his case was anticipated the apostolic prescription — "Is any afflicted? let him pray." 2. It is further related that he accompanied his supplications with deep humiliation: "he fasted, and went in, and lay all night upon the earth." Regarding his trial as a chastisement for his transgression, he "humbled himself under the mighty hand of God." Was there anything surprising in all this? King though he was, yet as a sinner we feel that the posture he assumed became him. It was meet to lay aside the crown of pure gold which God had put upon his head, and to exchange his soft raiment for sackcloth. One of the most painful and mischievous consequences of wilful sin is the difficulty it occasions in even the awakened and anxious soul to realise the love and trust in the confidence of our compassionate God. A sense of ill desert awakens the suspicion that He is "altogether such an one as ourselves;" and, by checking the hope of success, too often silences the voice of prayer. If David thus clung to hope, and persevered in wrestling with God for a temporal blessing, on a mere peradventure of success, how much rather should you, when you would trove the pardon of your guilt, the conversion of your heart, or the victory over your be, setting sins, cast yourselves upon His mercy, plead His promises, and resolve that you "will not let Him go, except He bless you!" In suing for these things you know that you are asking according to His will, and that He is "far more ready to hear than you to pray;" you honour Him most when you crave the most; you please Him best when you are most importunate. II. HIS CONDUCT, AND THE GROUNDS OF IT, AFTER THE CHILD WAS DEAD. It is a genuine touch of nature, which represents that "when David saw that his servants whispered, David perceived that the child was dead." His parental fears and tender solicitude anticipated the tidings which their silence communicated. And now begins the seeming paradox, which caused his servants so much perplexity. Though our immediate object in dwelling upon this passage is to present the portraiture of a genuine penitent, yet it seems profitable, in passing, to gather lessons of counsel and encouragement for that spirit which is almost sure to form a part in every audience — the spirit of the mourner. The Lord's children are often robbed of a noble opportunity of glorifying Him, and of much previous advantage to themselves, by the tyranny of that cruel custom which would have it believed that there is something indelicate when the bereaved is immediately seen in the Lord's house. The case, I admit, is quite conceivable in which, from weakness of body, tenderness of spirit, or want of self-control, the mourner may be really unfit to take part in the outward communion of saint. Nothing would be gained by any external violence done to the over-wrought system; but I refer to that artificial code of pharisaic decency which renders it incumbent on the bereaved mourner to abstain from the comfort and the consolation with which his Father's house abounds. I do think it an affectation of delicacy of sentiment which sound reason and genuine piety should force us to discountenance. (C. F. Childe, M. A.) Parallel Verses KJV: And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether GOD will be gracious to me, that the child may live? |
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