When The House Falls Apart

So let's go ahead and look at this text. Here's what I'm going to do. I did this last week because it's a long text. I'm going to read through the entire chapter 13, and I just want you to listen to it and take it in. It's not easy, but listen to this story.

¹Now Absalom, David’s son, had a beautiful sister, whose name was Tamar. And after a time Amnon, David’s son, loved her. ²And Amnon was so tormented that he made himself ill because of his sister Tamar, for she was a virgin, and it seemed impossible to Amnon to do anything to her. ³But Amnon had a friend, whose name was Jonadab, the son of Shimeah, David’s brother. And Jonadab was a very crafty man. ⁴And he said to him, “O son of the king, why are you so haggard morning after morning? Will you not tell me?” Amnon said to him, “I love Tamar, my brother Absalom’s sister.” ⁵Jonadab said to him, “Lie down on your bed and pretend to be ill. And when your father comes to see you, say to him, ‘Let my sister Tamar come and give me bread to eat, and prepare the food in my sight, that I may see it and eat it from her hand.’ ” ⁶So Amnon lay down and pretended to be ill. And when the king came to see him, Amnon said to the king, “Please let my sister Tamar come and make a couple of cakes in my sight, that I may eat from her hand.” ⁷Then David sent home to Tamar, saying, “Go to your brother Amnon’s house and prepare food for him.” ⁸So Tamar went to her brother Amnon’s house, where he was lying down. And she took dough and kneaded it and made cakes in his sight and baked the cakes. ⁹And she took the pan and emptied it out before him, but he refused to eat. And Amnon said, “Send out everyone from me.” So everyone went out from him. ¹⁰Then Amnon said to Tamar, “Bring the food into the chamber, that I may eat from your hand.” And Tamar took the cakes she had made and brought them into the chamber to Amnon her brother. ¹¹But when she brought them near him to eat, he took hold of her and said to her, “Come, lie with me, my sister.” ¹²She answered him, “No, my brother, do not violate me, for such a thing is not done in Israel; do not do this outrageous thing. ¹³As for me, where could I carry my shame? And as for you, you would be as one of the outrageous fools in Israel. Now therefore, please speak to the king, for he will not withhold me from you.” ¹⁴But he would not listen to her, and being stronger than she, he violated her and lay with her. ¹⁵Then Amnon hated her with very great hatred, so that the hatred with which he hated her was greater than the love with which he had loved her. And Amnon said to her, “Get up! Go!” ¹⁶But she said to him, “No, my brother, for this wrong in sending me away is greater than the other that you did to me.” But he would not listen to her. ¹⁷He called the young man who served him and said, “Put this woman out of my presence and bolt the door after her.” ¹⁸Now she was wearing a long robe with sleeves, for thus were the virgin daughters of the king dressed. So his servant put her out and bolted the door after her. ¹⁹And Tamar put ashes on her head and tore the long robe that she wore. And she laid her hand on her head and went away, crying aloud as she went. ²⁰And her brother Absalom said to her, “Has Amnon your brother been with you? Now hold your peace, my sister. He is your brother; do not take this to heart.” So Tamar lived, a desolate woman, in her brother Absalom’s house. ²¹When King David heard of all these things, he was very angry. ²²But Absalom spoke to Amnon neither good nor bad, for Absalom hated Amnon, because he had violated his sister Tamar. ²³After two full years Absalom had sheepshearers at Baal-hazor, which is near Ephraim, and Absalom invited all the king’s sons. ²⁴And Absalom came to the king and said, “Behold, your servant has sheepshearers. Please let the king and his servants go with your servant.” ²⁵But the king said to Absalom, “No, my son, let us not all go, lest we be burdensome to you.” He pressed him, but he would not go but gave him his blessing. ²⁶Then Absalom said, “If not, please let my brother Amnon go with us.” And the king said to him, “Why should he go with you?” ²⁷But Absalom pressed him until he let Amnon and all the king’s sons go with him. ²⁸Then Absalom commanded his servants, “Mark when Amnon’s heart is merry with wine, and when I say to you, ‘Strike Amnon,’ then kill him. Do not fear; have I not commanded you? Be courageous and be valiant.” ²⁹So the servants of Absalom did to Amnon as Absalom had commanded. Then all the king’s sons arose, and each mounted his mule and fled. ³⁰While they were on the way, news came to David, “Absalom has struck down all the king’s sons, and not one of them is left.” ³¹Then the king arose and tore his garments and lay on the earth. And all his servants who were standing by tore their garments. ³²But Jonadab the son of Shimeah, David’s brother, said, “Let not my lord suppose that they have killed all the young men, the king’s sons, for Amnon alone is dead. For by the command of Absalom this has been determined from the day he violated his sister Tamar. ³³Now therefore let not my lord the king so take it to heart as to suppose that all the king’s sons are dead, for Amnon alone is dead.” ³⁴But Absalom fled. And the young man who kept the watch lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, many people were coming from the road behind him by the side of the mountain. ³⁵And Jonadab said to the king, “Behold, the king’s sons have come; as your servant said, so it has come about.” ³⁶And as soon as he had finished speaking, behold, the king’s sons came and lifted up their voice and wept. And the king also and all his servants wept very bitterly. ³⁷But Absalom fled and went to Talmai the son of Ammihud, king of Geshur. And David mourned for his son day after day. ³⁸So Absalom fled and went to Geshur, and was there three years. ³⁹And the spirit of the king longed to go out to Absalom, because he was comforted about Amnon, since he was dead.

So this is rough. Most of our Bibles give little titles to these stories, and it's often titled the story of Amnon and Tamar, but that's not really true. It's a story about Absalom. It starts with Absalom, and it's going to end with Absalom on his face before the king at the end of chapter 14. It's a story about Absalom. Amnon and Tamar are the catalyst.

So Absalom and Tamar are the son and daughter of one of David's wives, and Amnon is the son of another wife. It gets complicated. This is David's fatal flaw: too many wives. It gets messy. Amnon is his oldest, so he's the heir. You've got to understand that in this story that's significant. And Tamar is his sister, half sister if you want to be specific about that. But she's his sister, and he falls in love with her.

But let's be clear, this isn't love. Verse 2 makes that clear. It says:

²And Amnon was so tormented that he made himself ill because of his sister Tamar, for she was a virgin, and it seemed impossible to Amnon to do anything to her.

This is the torment of desire. More than that, the torment of illicit desire, secret desire, and a very sick desire. Interesting, the phrase here, "it seemed impossible to him." Literally, in the Hebrew it reads, it was too hard in his eyes. In the context of what we've been in the last several chapters, this idea of what he's looking at, what he sees in his eyes, is so significant. We become what we behold. We go in the direction that we're aiming at. And Amnon has Tamar, the thing that he shouldn't have, in his eyes. It's all he can see. It's all he can think about. It's all he can desire. He makes himself sick with his longing for Tamar.

And he's got a friend, actually a cousin. Verse 3:

³But Amnon had a friend, whose name was Jonadab, the son of Shimeah, David’s brother. And Jonadab was a very crafty man.

He was a very crafty man. The Hebrew here is actually "wise," and this phrase, "he was very wise," appears only once in all of scripture, right here. [Wise — חָכָם — ḥākām — clever, experienced (HALOT, sense 2)] I want you to think about that for a second with me. The one man scripture calls very wise uses it to help his cousin rape his sister, which tells us something: wisdom by itself is not a virtue. It's a skill. It's a skill that can be pointed anywhere. Jeremiah has a phrase for this. He calls it people who are wise to do evil. James calls it something else. He calls it a wisdom that is earthly, unspiritual, and demonic.

Jonadab is wise. He sees the problem clearly. He sees the people clearly. He sees the path ahead clearly. What he never asks, and what he doesn't see, is: is this the right path? Is this the good path? Ultimately, is this God's path? And he's family. He's Tamar's cousin, too. But he comes up with a plan. In verse 5:

⁵Jonadab said to him, “Lie down on your bed and pretend to be ill. And when your father comes to see you, say to him, ‘Let my sister Tamar come and give me bread to eat, and prepare the food in my sight, that I may see it and eat it from her hand.’ ”

Notice what the plan needs. It needs David. The plan only works if the king sends her. And he does. Verse 7, David sent home to Tamar. That should be ringing alarm bells as we've been walking through this text, because that whole sending verb has been like a thread running through the story. [Send — שָׁלַח — šālaḥ — to send, despatch (Qal); to let go, dismiss, send away, expel (Piel) (HALOT I)] David sends a messenger. David sends for Bathsheba. David sends Uriah to his death. Now David is tricked and deceived into sending his daughter into harm's way.

So he sends her, and Tamar goes. She takes the dough. She kneads it. She makes cakes in his sight. She bakes them. She does exactly what her father asked. Tamar is a daughter of the king doing a kindness for a sick brother. She's a good girl. She's a good sister. She's a good daughter. But he won't eat it. That's always been a part of his plan. So verse 9:

⁹And she took the pan and emptied it out before him, but he refused to eat. And Amnon said, “Send out everyone from me.” So everyone went out from him.

Now his plan is ready to act.

Before we look at exactly what happens, I want you to think for a moment with me about Jonadab. Amnon's the monster in this story. Let's be clear about that. But most of us aren't going to be Amnon. Most of us have probably been Jonadab. Somebody's got a problem and we want to help out our friend. So we listen to them. We encourage them. We counsel them. I see this everywhere in our media today. Whether it's social media like Facebook or Instagram, or it's our movies or literature, it's like people come and say, "Oh, my husband's so terrible." "Oh, you leave him, girl, you deserve so much better." We have this whole concept like that.

I think there's a lesson in here from Jonadab. We need to be very, very careful about how we help our friends, and we should never help our friends toward that which God forbids. That's significant. Jonadab bears guilt in this for what happens, even though he wasn't in the room. He made the room possible.

So Amnon says, "Bring the food into the chamber, that I may eat from your hand." And she does. And when she comes near, the text says that he seizes her. He takes her. Another significant word in this narrative. And he says to her, "Come, lie with me, my sister."

And Tamar speaks. These are her first words in the story, and I want you to hear every one of them really clearly. She said to him, "No, my brother." She names the relationship. She names him. "No, my brother. Do not violate me." So she names him, and she names the thing. Do not violate me. In the Hebrew, this is a word that means to humiliate or to do violence to. In this specific context, it literally means to rape a woman. [Violate — עָנָה — ʿānâ — (Piel) to humiliate (a woman by an enforced marriage); to do violence to, to rape a woman (HALOT II)] Do not rape me, she says. So she names it. She names him for what he is. She names herself for what she is. If he's the brother, I'm the sister. She says:

¹²She answered him, “No, my brother, do not violate me, for such a thing is not done in Israel; do not do this outrageous thing.

What you may not hear in that is that she's actually quoting scripture to him. She's appealing to the Torah. She's quoting this phrase, "Such a thing is not done in all Israel," which is the language of Genesis 34. Another painful text, where Shechem rapes Dinah, and the sons of Jacob say, "He's done an outrageous thing in Israel, for such a thing must not be done."

Tamar knows her Bible. She's standing in a locked room with a man who has a hold of her, and she's reaching for God's word to get him to stop doing what he's about to do. It makes it even more tragic to me, and it makes what he does more evil. This has a name. She says, God has already named it. Don't be the man who does it. And then she says:

¹³As for me, where could I carry my shame? And as for you, you would be as one of the outrageous fools in Israel. Now therefore, please speak to the king, for he will not withhold me from you.”

Even in this moment, she's actually thinking about him. I would be covered with shame, it would be unbearable. But you would, in the same way, bear the mark of a fool. And then she throws in this last sentence, "Ask the king, and maybe he'll give me to you." I don't know if that's a real legal option for her in her culture or a delaying tactic to get out of the room. I think she's trying to get the king involved. She's trying to get him to think about the consequences. She's doing whatever she can to get out of this room. She wants somebody to see, but there's nobody there.

¹⁴But he would not listen to her, and being stronger than she, he violated her and lay with her.

It uses the exact same word that she used. He does explicitly what she had said, don't do. He wouldn't listen to her. He was stronger than her. So he violated her. No euphemisms, no ambiguity. The text stands with her.

As ugly as that is, what comes next is what makes me angry. Verse 15:

¹⁵Then Amnon hated her with very great hatred, so that the hatred with which he hated her was greater than the love with which he had loved her. And Amnon said to her, “Get up! Go!”

Four times in one verse, the word hate. Over and over and over. What he thought and called love turns into hatred the second he has what he wanted. He does something monstrous to her, so that now when he sees her, that's all he can see. She is the evidence of his failing. "So get up and go." Two words in the Hebrew. And Tamar speaks up again. Verse 16, she says:

¹⁶But she said to him, “No, my brother, for this wrong in sending me away is greater than the other that you did to me.” But he would not listen to her.

That's hard for me to wrap my head around. But she's saying, "Listen, what you've done here and now in this room is really bad. But sending me away now is actually worse, because it means that the consequences of what happened in this room, to me, are going to go down a very, very dark path." Actually, the law lays out in Deuteronomy 22 consequences and solutions for when events like this happen, and you're not supposed to send them away. The man that does this is supposed to take responsibility and marry her. There's this whole process. So she says, "Don't send me away." You see the sending again? Don't send me away. That would be worse. But he won't listen to her.

¹⁷He called the young man who served him and said, “Put this woman out of my presence and bolt the door after her.”

Not my sister. In Hebrew, it literally just reads, "Send this one out." Dismissive, objectifying. He never saw her as his sister. He thought he loved her. He didn't love her. He saw her as an object.

I love Tamar. She doesn't go quietly. Verses 18 to 19.

¹⁸Now she was wearing a long robe with sleeves, for thus were the virgin daughters of the king dressed. So his servant put her out and bolted the door after her.

So Tamar put ashes on her head and tore the long robe that she wore. The word there for "long robe" is a technical word. It's only used one other time in scripture for one other person, and it's Joseph, who gets the long robe with many colors. Both of the people in scripture who wear this kind of robe end up with those robes torn as they're betrayed by brothers. I don't think that's accidental. So she tears it, and she puts ashes on her head, and she goes away crying aloud as she went. Do you remember what God said in chapter 12?

"What you did in secret, I will do before all Israel and before the sun."

Tamar has just suffered one of the worst things that you can suffer, but she's not going to go quietly into the night. She goes away crying aloud through the streets. Tamar is the only person in these two chapters who brings anything into the light. Everybody else tries to cover.

Her brother Absalom said to her, "Has Amnon your brother been with you?" I don't know how. I mean, he hears because she's crying. She's walking through the streets. She's torn her robe. She's got ashes. Word gets to Absalom. And he says, "Has Amnon been with you?" And then we don't get her answer, because yes. But then this is what he says. He says, "Now hold your peace, my sister. He is your brother. Do not take this to heart." I can't think of a worse thing to say to somebody that's just suffered this.

I want to be fair to Absalom. He calls her his sister. He's trying to be tender. He clearly cares for her. But this is his advice. Be quiet. Think about your brother's image. Just let it go.

Some of you know that language. You've heard it at a kitchen table. "Let's not make a bigger deal of this than it is." "Think about what this would do to the family if it got out." "Just don't dwell on it." "You're being selfish." Some of you grew up in houses where silence was the family's highest virtue, where the worst thing you could do was say it out loud. I want you to hear me clearly this morning: that is not okay. That kind of silence destroys. It continues the victimization. It blames the victim. Part of what this story is in the scripture for is to help us see that that is not in the heart of God.

The end of verse 20 says, "So Tamar lived a desolate woman in her brother Absalom's house." The word there, desolate, is a word used of cities after an army has gone through and destroyed them, laid them waste. She's been ravaged. She's been laid low. She's been destroyed. In her culture, her life is over. Everywhere it would have counted, she's not going to get married. She's not going to have children. She'll never have a home of her own. Not because of anything she did, but because of something that was done to her. She was a desolate woman.

Verse 21. Maybe this is going to get better. It says:

²¹When King David heard of all these things, he was very angry.

And that's it. That's it. He was angry. He doesn't go to Tamar and comfort her. He doesn't confront Amnon. He doesn't call the elders. He doesn't say a single word that the text records. The king who loves justice in chapter 8, who executed justice and righteousness for all of his people, hears that his firstborn son has raped his daughter, and he gets angry and does nothing. You're like, "Why? Why didn't he do anything?"

Here's how I see it. How could he? How does a man who sent for another man's wife and then had her husband killed sit down across from his son and say, "What you did was wrong"? David had lost his moral voice. He was compromised. David has so many great things in his character, in his heart. He does so many wonderful things. But he has become compromised, so that because of the reality of his sin and his choices and his story, when he's confronted with this happening now within his own family, he's lost his voice.

I think many of the parents in the room understand this. One of the things about having kids that nobody really prepares you for is that they are the best mirrors you're ever going to see in life. You start to see yourself, and sometimes it's awesome. You see the good stuff in you and you're like, "Yeah." And then you see the other side of yourself coming out. Far too often we choose the route of David. We stay silent because our own guilt, our own shame, our own compromise strips our moral authority to be able to call sin sin.

For Tamar, it doesn't really matter why David didn't say anything. The only thing that matters is that he didn't say anything. He didn't do anything. Nobody did anything. The silence in this story is the story. The silence imposed on Tamar by Absalom. The silence of David's anger. The silence of Amnon, from whom we've heard nothing. No excuses, no rationalization, no apology, no restitution, nothing. Even Absalom, who gives her a place to live, maintains a type of silence. The end of verse 22 says:

²But Absalom spoke to Amnon neither good nor bad, for Absalom hated Amnon, because he had violated his sister Tamar.

For two years he doesn't say anything to his brother, and the text gives us the reason why: he hated him. It's the same word for how Amnon felt about Tamar after the act. You see how sin breeds sin and hate breeds hate. Violence will breed violence. That's this story in a nutshell. Here's the reality: what's covered up doesn't heal. That which is silenced grows and festers in the dark. So for two years that hatred festers in the heart of Absalom.

Verse 23 says he waits two years before he acts. And when he acts, boy, he acts. He murders. There are two things I want you to notice in that story. One, he convinces David to send Amnon. Again, that sending term is so significant. Here we have David in this story who sends Tamar, and look what happens to her. Now he sends Amnon to go to Absalom's feast, and Amnon gets killed. David is the unwitting sending agent of the greatest catastrophes of his children's lives. But secondly, listen to Absalom's words in verse 28. Absalom doesn't kill him himself. He uses his servants to do it.

²⁸Then Absalom commanded his servants, “Mark when Amnon’s heart is merry with wine, and when I say to you, ‘Strike Amnon,’ then kill him. Do not fear; have I not commanded you? Be courageous and be valiant.”

And then listen to what he says to them. I don't know if you've heard that language before, like God talking to Joshua as he's leading the people in: do not be afraid, be courageous, be strong, I'm with you. It's unbelievable. Absalom takes the language of faith and uses it to commission a murder, just like his dad. Last week we saw it. David writes a letter to Joab: put him in the front, pull back, let him die. And then he sends word: it's okay, be of good courage, take care. David writes it on a scroll. His son says it out loud at a party. Like father, like son.

Then Absalom runs. He runs to his mother's father, the king of Geshur, outside the land. Three years pass, and the chapter will end this way, with David mourning his son day after day. And then verse 39:

³⁹And the spirit of the king longed to go out to Absalom, because he was comforted about Amnon, since he was dead.

It's a really weird, garbled sentence. You're like, is David mourning for Absalom? Is he mourning for Amnon? Is he mourning at all for Tamar? We don't see that in here. There's a kind of grief that's so messy, we lose ourselves in it. I think that's where David is. His heart is breaking apart. The sword. Neither of these chapters mentions the word sword once, but that's exactly what's happening. The sword is carving up the house of David.

Years go by, and we get to chapter 14.

¹Now Joab the son of Zeruiah knew that the king’s heart went out to Absalom.

The Hebrew here is vague. It could mean his heart was toward Absalom, like he was missing him, or it could mean it was against Absalom, like he couldn't stop thinking about it. It could be longing. It could be anger. It could be preoccupation. I think it was probably all of that. And Joab sees this in David. So Joab acts, and he takes a page from Nathan the prophet. He creates a little living parable to get David to act. So it says:

²And Joab sent to Tekoa and brought from there a wise woman and said to her, “Pretend to be a mourner and put on mourning garments. Do not anoint yourself with oil, but behave like a woman who has been mourning many days for the dead. ³Go to the king and speak thus to him.” So Joab put the words in her mouth. ⁴When the woman of Tekoa came to the king, she fell on her face to the ground and paid homage and said, “Save me, O king.” ⁵And the king said to her, “What is your trouble?” She answered, “Alas, I am a widow; my husband is dead. ⁶And your servant had two sons, and they quarreled with one another in the field. There was no one to separate them, and one struck the other and killed him. ⁷And now the whole clan has risen against your servant, and they say, ‘Give up the man who struck his brother, that we may put him to death for the life of his brother whom he killed.’ And so they would destroy the heir also. Thus they would quench my coal that is left and leave to my husband neither name nor remnant on the face of the earth.”

Like that imagery: "You quench my coal." The last ember of a family fire. It's a beautiful line, and it's an outright lie. It's made up. There's no widow. There are no sons. It's theater. And David buys what she's selling.

⁸Then the king said to the woman, “Go to your house, and I will give orders concerning you.”

So David's going to get involved. I'm going to protect your son. We'll work this out.

⁹And the woman of Tekoa said to the king, “On me be the guilt, my lord the king, and on my father’s house; let the king and his throne be guiltless.”

It's always nice to speak politely to the king, especially when you're lying to him. Now, verse 10:

¹⁰The king said, “If anyone says anything to you, bring him to me, and he shall never touch you again.” ¹¹Then she said, “Please let the king invoke the Lord your God, that the avenger of blood kill no more, and my son be not destroyed.” He said, “As the Lord lives, not one hair of your son shall fall to the ground.”

Don't miss the irony. The first time God is mentioned in the middle of this is in the middle of a staged story, a lie. David swears by God to protect the woman and her imaginary son. And then she pulls the proverbial rug out from under him.

¹²Then the woman said, “Please let your servant speak a word to my lord the king.” He said, “Speak.” ¹³And the woman said, “Why then have you planned such a thing against the people of God? For in giving this decision the king convicts himself, inasmuch as the king does not bring his banished one home again.

This is Nathan's "you are the man" moment. She's like, "You just did this for me, but look what you're doing to the nation, because as the king goes, so the nation goes." She says, "You're convicting yourself. Inasmuch as the king does not bring his banished one home again." And then:

¹⁴We must all die; we are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God will not take away life, and he devises means so that the banished one will not remain an outcast.

What she's doing here is very clever. She's called the wise woman.

Here's her argument. You, David, are supposed to be like God as the king. We're all made as the imago Dei, the imagers of God. We're all made to be like God, but the king especially, right? He is that image, the one that stands in between. Your role is to be like God, the king. And listen, what does God do? God devises ways to bring people home. That's her argument. And you devised to banish Absalom. You're not being like God. You're not being a good king. And that affects all of us. She calls him out. And David knows it. He also suspects that this was not her idea alone. Let's go to verse 15.

¹⁵Now I have come to say this to my lord the king because the people have made me afraid, and your servant thought, ‘I will speak to the king; it may be that the king will perform the request of his servant. ¹⁶For the king will hear and deliver his servant from the hand of the man who would destroy me and my son together from the heritage of God.’ ¹⁷And your servant thought, ‘The word of my lord the king will set me at rest,’ for my lord the king is like the angel of God to discern good and evil. The Lord your God be with you!”

Once again, flattery gets you places. But the king answered the woman. He says, "Do not hide anything from me that I ask you." When the king says that to you, you know you're in trouble. It's like when your mom uses your middle name. You know something's about to go down.

¹⁸Then the king answered the woman, “Do not hide from me anything I ask you.” And the woman said, “Let my lord the king speak.” ¹⁹The king said, “Is the hand of Joab with you in all this?” The woman answered and said, “As surely as you live, my lord the king, one cannot turn to the right hand or to the left from anything that my lord the king has said. It was your servant Joab who commanded me; it was he who put all these words in the mouth of your servant. ²⁰In order to change the course of things your servant Joab did this. But my lord has wisdom like the wisdom of the angel of God to know all things that are on the earth.”

Sometimes flattery gets a little overdone.

²¹Then the king said to Joab, “Behold now, I grant this; go, bring back the young man Absalom.” ²²And Joab fell on his face to the ground and paid homage and blessed the king. And Joab said, “Today your servant knows that I have found favor in your sight, my lord the king, in that the king has granted the request of his servant.” ²³So Joab arose and went to Geshur and brought Absalom to Jerusalem.

So Absalom is allowed to return, but there is a condition. Verse 24:

²⁴And the king said, “Let him dwell apart in his own house; he is not to come into my presence.” So Absalom lived apart in his own house and did not come into the king’s presence.

So he's home, but he's not home. He's returned, but he's not reconciled. The house has been pierced by the sword. And notice the absolutely deafening silence regarding Tamar.

²⁵Now in all Israel there was no one so much to be praised for his handsome appearance as Absalom. From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him.

The last time somebody was praised for their beauty, it was Saul. And that didn't turn out so well. A little foreshadowing here. So Absalom's a handsome dude. From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head, there was no blemish in him.

²⁶And when he cut the hair of his head (for at the end of every year he used to cut it; when it was heavy on him, he cut it), he weighed the hair of his head, two hundred shekels by the king’s weight.

So sorry to all our bald ushers, but Absalom's beauty was tied to this long, luxurious hair that would just grow, and then he cut it, and it would grow again. He was a pretty boy.

²⁷There were born to Absalom three sons, and one daughter whose name was Tamar. She was a beautiful woman.

You see this love that Absalom has toward Tamar, but again, naming your daughter after her when nothing has been done for her and she's still living desolate, isn't that just putting salt on the wound?

²⁸So Absalom lived two full years in Jerusalem, without coming into the king’s presence. ²⁹Then Absalom sent for Joab, to send him to the king, but Joab would not come to him. And he sent a second time, but Joab would not come.

You see the sending again. He sends, Joab won't come. He sends a second time.

³⁰Then he said to his servants, “See, Joab’s field is next to mine, and he has barley there; go and set it on fire.” So Absalom’s servants set the field on fire. ³¹Then Joab arose and went to Absalom at his house and said to him, “Why have your servants set my field on fire?” ³²Absalom answered Joab, “Behold, I sent word to you, ‘Come here, that I may send you to the king, to ask, “Why have I come from Geshur? It would be better for me to be there still.” Now therefore let me go into the presence of the king, and if there is guilt in me, let him put me to death.’ ”

Like, okay, I've been here for two years in this not-home home, and I'd rather go before the king, and if I have to die, I'd rather die than stay in this state. Let's just roll the dice.

³Then Joab went to the king and told him, and he summoned Absalom. So he came to the king and bowed himself on his face to the ground before the king, and the king kissed Absalom.

Well, is that a real reconciliation? The text isn't really clear. The kiss could have been a genuine sign of affection, or it could have been political theater. My read is that it's a tragic counterfeit of reconciliation. The king kisses him. He's allowed back into the presence, but there's no reconciliation. There's no confession. There's no truth. There's no justice. There's no mention of Amnon or Tamar. The king kisses him, and that's the end of the chapter. It's another cover-up. Let's sweep it under the rug. We don't have to go very far. Next verse, we see what happens. You've got to come back next week for that, though.

Here's the lesson, as far as I can see, from these two painful, brutal chapters: a compromised king cannot resolve that which he's afraid to face. David never went to Tamar. He never confronted Amnon. He never named what Absalom did. He brought his son home without ever bringing the truth home. And restoration without truth is just a cover-up. David failed as a father. He failed as a king. And his failure came with a cost, a cost he paid and a cost that others around him paid.

Here's what this story does to me, and this is what I hope the story does to you, and it's what we try to do every week: it should turn us toward Jesus, because one thing this story makes clear is that we need a King who isn't compromised. Somebody say amen this morning. We need a King that's not compromised. And that's what we have in Jesus: One with no sin of His own to cover up, so He can look straight at ours and deal with it. I love it. Jesus is called the Lamb, the unblemished, perfect Lamb of God. He's spotless. He's not been compromised. There are no skeletons in the closet that make Him lose His prophetic and moral voice.

1 Peter 2:22 says it this way: "He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth." That's the King we serve. David was a great king, but at this point in his life, he is a compromised king, and everybody underneath him suffers for it. We'll never experience that with Jesus, because He is uncompromised from start to finish.

This is so amazing. Seven hundred years before Jesus, Isaiah saw a servant of God who would do exactly what nobody in David's house would do. And Isaiah describes Him in the language of this story. You probably know this text, Isaiah 53:

³He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; as one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not. ⁴Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted… ¹²Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, because he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.

You hear what the servant does? You hear what the true King does? He bears it. He doesn't cover it. He doesn't manage it. He doesn't wait two years and then try to take revenge. He takes the sin. He takes the pain, and He takes it into Himself. And then He stands in between. He interposes. He steps into the space between the guilty and the judgment, and He pleads for them. Out of the mouth of Jesus Himself, Jesus knows that this prophecy is about Him. In Luke 22:37, He says:

³⁷"For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in me: 'And he was numbered with the transgressors.' For what is written about me has its fulfillment."

This is what Jesus came to do: to deal with the perpetual cover-ups, to deal with the pain of the victim, to deal with the guilt of the victimizers. Jesus comes to deal with all of it. David failed in his silence. Jesus goes to the cross and speaks these words:

³⁴And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

That's what an uncompromised King does. He makes intercession for the transgressors. That's Isaiah 53:12 in real time. The King who bears the sin is praying for the people committing it. What a King we serve.

I want to say a couple of things about this one. Jesus says:

³⁴And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

And you think, well, Amnon knew what he was doing. Tamar called it out. She named it. She named him. She named the relationship. She named the sin. She quoted scripture. She knew.

First of all, I think that's a really wooden, bad reading of Jesus on the cross. "They know not what they do." They know exactly what they're doing. They know that they're crucifying. They know that they're killing Him. They just don't understand the fuller picture of what's going on. And that's true for all of us. Amnon knew exactly what he was doing, just like we do when we sin.

And in this story, Amnon and Tamar are not on equal footing. Let's be clear about that. Amnon sinned. Tamar was sinned against. But here's what I hope you can see this morning: what Jesus offers is hope for both sides. He intercedes for the transgressors, and He takes the pain and shame of the victims onto Himself. He brings it into the light.

When Jesus bears sin, He's not standing with Amnon. He's standing under Amnon's sin, bearing it, carrying it. And He's standing beside Tamar's cry, hearing it. He doesn't pretend it didn't happen. You can't bear something you pretend doesn't happen. He names it as sin, and then He carries it.

With that in mind, here's the uncomfortable truth: we're all Amnon and Tamar. We're all victims and victimizers. That's the reality of sin in all of our lives. There's nobody in the room today who's like Jesus, who committed no sin. But whatever seat you feel yourself in today, whether you're feeling the guilt of the sin that you've committed or you're feeling the pain and the shame of the sin committed against you, the answer is in Jesus, the uncompromised King, who prays for victimizers and heals victims. And He's the only One who can do both.

²⁴He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.

David didn't heal the wounds, and so they festered. The sword is not done in the house of David. Jesus is another story. He faces evil and sin head-on. He confronts it at its worst. He takes it into Himself. And though it takes His life, the grave cannot hold Him. He returned from the grave. He conquered sin. He broke its back. He destroyed its power, so that we no longer have to live in its grip and keep perpetuating more brokenness. And we no longer have to stay stuck in the pain and silence of our shame. The sins we've done, the sins done to us, Jesus paid and laid them to rest.

This sermon started with two promises on one house, both built on the same word: will not depart. The sword will not depart. My hesed will not depart. These two promises meet in Jesus at the cross. The mystery and the glory of the cross. I've always loved 1 John 1:9.

⁹If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

If we confess our sins, and again, I don't think that's just the sins that we've done. I think it's also the sins that are done to us, the pain, the reality, the ongoing consequences of sin in our lives. If we confess our sins, He is what? He's both faithful and just. That's not a throwaway line. He's faithful and just. Hesed: He's faithful. It's never going to depart. Just: the sword is going to deal. But instead of us dealing with it, He takes that penalty upon Himself. You see the glory of the gospel? You see the grace of Jesus this morning?

God said the sword wouldn't leave David's house, and it didn't. The divine judgment came through the natural consequences of choices, choices made freely by David and his family. The consequences of sin spread and grew, and every attempt to hide it and keep it covered made it grow even stronger, because what's covered doesn't heal. Which is why we celebrate not King David this morning, but King Jesus, the uncompromised King, the King who never sinned Himself. The King who takes the sins that we commit, and takes the pain of the sins against us, onto Himself, brings them to light, and breaks their power forever.

So I say to you this morning, if you're covering something, He already knows. You can bring it to Him. The light won't kill you. He already took what the light exposes and dealt with it on the cross. And if you've been the one told to be quiet, I want you to hear me this morning: Jesus hears you. He knows you. He went to the cross for you. He doesn't need you to shout, because He already knows. And He is the One, the only One, who can hold your pain and bring you the healing that you've been longing for. May God's word find root and bear fruit in our hearts. Amen.