The Forever Throne

If you remember back in chapter 5, when David first ascended the throne, Hiram the king of Tyre sent him a gift. This is a good gift. I think I said this a couple weeks ago: nobody's ever given me a house before. Pretty sweet deal. Here, the king of Tyre sends the builders, the architects. He sends the materials. Listed among the materials are the cedars of Lebanon. This is luxurious. This is the height of opulence. So he doesn't just build him a little shack to live in. David is dwelling in a palace with cedar walls and a roof and a door. He's living in luxury, the life of a king. And he's reflecting. He's like, "I'm living like this, and God is in a tent." The word he uses here isn't actually the word for tent — it's for the fabric of the tent. Like, "I've got cedar walls and God's got this flimsy piece of fabric." And so David's considering this reality of a house.

The Hebrew word for house — בַּיִת — bayit — house, dwelling; household, family; dynasty (the "house of David"); temple (HALOT 1:125) — occurs 15 times in this chapter. It's kind of the central thread that runs through it, and it's a word that's going to be used in at least four different distinct ways in this chapter. It'll mean a house that a human lives in. It'll mean a temple that God would dwell in. It'll mean a dynasty, a hereditary kingdom. And it'll mean a legacy, a long-lasting promise. See, David begins the chapter talking about a house built of wood and stone. God will end the chapter describing a house built of people. David wants to do something for God, build Him a house, and that's admirable certainly, but what the text is going to show us is that it's not necessary in the way that David thinks it is. This chapter really is going to continue the theme of God's sovereignty that we looked at last week. And what needs to become clear in our minds is that God did not need David to build him anything. In fact, what the text is going to reveal is that God doesn't need David to build Him anything. God's desire is actually to build something for David.

So he says,

2 the king said to Nathan the prophet, “See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent.”

And he's speaking to Nathan, and this is the first time we're introduced to Nathan. Nathan is a prophet, and he's going to feature prominently in a couple of stories coming up. So Nathan's a prophet — he's one of those that hears from God, that speaks to God. He mediates. And so David's talking to Nathan and he says, "I've been thinking about this. I'm in this house of cedar. God's got this flimsy fabric."

3 And Nathan said to the king, “Go, do all that is in your heart, for the Lord is with you.”

Nathan understands what David is saying. Like, "I've got this house, God doesn't. I need to build the Lord a house." That's the unspoken desire of David's heart. And Nathan — they're hanging out — Nathan's like, "That's a great idea. God's with you." That's been shown over and over and over again. And if that's something you want to do, go ahead and build a house for the Lord. It's a great plan. It makes sense.

But I want you to notice what isn't in the text — what a prophet normally says: "Thus saith the Lord," or "Nathan inquired of the Lord and the Lord said." We don't have that. What we have is a couple of guys hanging out, a king and a prophet talking about, "You know, I had a good idea last night," and the other one's going, "Yeah, that's a really good idea, right?" And we all understand that there's this reality — they have a good plan to do something good for God. Good plans are good, but good plans made from a place of comfort and success — especially plans made from comfort and success — still need God's word, not just His name. You understand the difference, right? It's easy to slap God's name on something. It's easy to come up with an idea and say, "I'm going to do this for the Lord." It's a whole other thing to do something that God has called us to do, has created us to do, has instructed us to do.

I've got to be honest, I have learned this lesson — I can't even say that. I'm always learning this lesson the hard way. I'm an idea guy. I love to come up with ideas. I don't even have to try; I come up with a hundred ideas a day. Ninety-seven of them are terrible — but three are still really good, and that's not bad. But I literally can't tell you the number of times I've come up with a good idea for God and jumped in and started going and started driving and started working and started doing, and then I'm looking around going, "God, where are You?" And He's like, "That was not My idea. That's your idea." And there's a difference between a good idea and a God idea, right? That's kind of the heart of this chapter. David has a good idea, but it's not God's idea. And that's a real danger here.

So I've done it on that side, but I've also, as a pastor, been in Nathan's shoes. I've had people come to me and say, "Well, I'm struggling with this and I'm thinking about this," and I'm ashamed to say there have been too many times where, instead of praying and seeking and thinking, I go, "Well, that sounds like a good idea, go for it." This is just how we tend to function. I'm reading this conversation between David and Nathan and I'm going, "Yeah, that's how we do it." It's such a crazy thing, because we should seek God's guidance and wisdom and direction in everything we do, but we functionally and practically don't. And that's what's taking place here.

Now, fortunately in this story, God doesn't let them get too far into their plan before He stops them. So verse four says this,

4 But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan,

We don't get this conversation between Nathan and God, but I can imagine it a little bit. It's like, "Hey, Nathan." "Yes, Lord?" "You spoke for me today and I didn't tell you that." "Oh, my bad." Right? "Go and tell my servant David, 'Thus says the Lord.' You're supposed to be a prophet, and this is what a prophet does. Okay, let's get back in the game, Nathan, and do what you're supposed to do."

5 “Go and tell my servant David, ‘Thus says the Lord: Would you build me a house to dwell in?

Sounds fairly polite and kind in the English. In the Hebrew, it's a little different — it has the pronoun up front. So it would literally read, "You — you're going to build Me a house? You think you're the one that's going to do that? You think I was waiting for you to come up with this idea? You think I wasn't capable of orchestrating a plan together about who's going to build me a house? You are going to build me a house to dwell in?" God says,

6 I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent for my dwelling.

See, David has settled in Jerusalem, and God's like, "I've been moving around. I've been with you." And then listen to what He says in verse 7.

7 In all places where I have moved with all the people of Israel, did I speak a word with any of the judges of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, “Why have you not built me a house of cedar?”’

There's a subtle rebuke here in God's word to David. It's like, "I've been with Israel for a lot longer than you've been around, David. And in all that time, have I once said to anyone — to any of My prophets, to any of My people — 'Hey, it's time to do this'?" God is and was certainly capable of establishing a residence for Himself. He's not a victim of circumstances, waiting for David to intervene. A house for God, not initiated by God — however noble the intention — is a house built for the builder's sake, not for God's sake.

And I'm not sure how to express how radically strange this is in the ancient Near Eastern context in which David lived. In David's world, in the ancient Near East, a king's reign was not considered secure until he had built a proper house for his god. Kingship and the gods went together. And so for a king to establish himself and his kingdom securely, a temple had to be built. Now, permission was important. We have records of a Babylonian king named Nabonidus who tells of a predecessor who rebuilt a temple without the god's permission, and the building fell. There's an ancient Mesopotamian poem called The Curse of Akkad, and in it the king Naram-Sin builds without a favorable sign from the heavens and from his gods, and his whole dynasty collapses because of it. In 2 Samuel chapter 7, David, a king, is refused permission to build a temple for his God — and his dynasty is secured. It's the exact opposite of what's happening in the world around him. Completely unexpected.

So, "say to my servant David" — it's not all bad news for David. David, you are My servant. Now, this is a title that gets applied throughout the Hebrew scriptures, the Old Testament, to a really interesting group of people, right? So we've got Abraham and Moses and Caleb and Isaiah and the Messiah, but we also get a pagan king like Nebuchadnezzar. This title, "my servant," means someone that has been commissioned by God for a specific purpose. "David, you are My servant, and so I tell you what I want you to do, not the other way around." So, "go and tell My servant David" — God is not saying, "David, you can't build Me a house because you're not good enough." God is saying, "David, I don't want you to build Me a house because that's not My plan and purpose for you." Those are two completely different things.

And it's deeply tied into the ancient Near Eastern context, because in that world, the one who builds the temple becomes effectively the patron of that god. In other words, the god owes them something for building that temple. Every ancient Near Eastern inscription in a temple that we have basically says the exact same thing: "Look at what I did, building this temple for this god." God refuses to let David or anyone put Him in their debt. God's not going to let David be His patron. God is David's patron. God is the one that is in charge. He didn't need David. And I don't know who needs to hear this this morning, but He doesn't need you. Let that sink in. God's not anxiously, hopefully, desperately waiting for you to do something that He needs to happen. And if that hurts your ego a little bit this morning — excellent. That's just a perk.

No, listen to me — that is such good news. It may sound like bad news at first, but it is such good news, because think about what it means. Imagine a God who needs your building program, who needs your giving, who needs your leadership, your competence, your ideas — He needs your help to keep His universe going. That would be the most exhausting master in the universe and not much of a god. The God of 2 Samuel 7 doesn't need you to hold Him up. And church, that's really good news this morning. That's really good news — not because of what it says about you, but because of what it says about Him. The God that we worship, the God that we serve, is without need — which means His choice to call us, to love us, to choose us, to have purpose and plan for us, is built out of something greater than need. It's built out of His love, His faithfulness, and His character.

So verse 8 continues. It says, "Thus says the Lord of hosts, I took you from the pasture, David, from following the sheep, that you should be prince over My people Israel." It's a great reversal in this verse. "Remember when I called you, you were out chasing sheep in a field. Now you're out in front leading God's people. And who did that, David? I did that."

8 ‘Thus says the Lord of hosts, I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, that you should be prince over my people Israel. 9 And I have been with you wherever you went and have cut off all your enemies from before you. And I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth.

David is not God's patron. God is, and always has been, his. It is God that took him. It is God that has established him. It is God that will secure him. This is the ultimate DTR, "define the relationship" conversation. Let's be clear: I took you, I've been with you, I cut off your enemies. And this last one — I will make your name great. All the others are things that God has done. "I will make your name great" is what God has yet to do for David. And this is a promise that we've only heard God make one other time in all of scripture so far. Genesis 12, when God calls Abram — that text is so familiar to many of us. But in Genesis 12:2, God says, "Abram, if you come and follow Me," He says,

2 And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.

That's a particularly important promise in the context, because Genesis 12 comes after Genesis 11, and Genesis 11 is the story of the Tower of Babel. And the Tower of Babel is not just a story about people building a big building — it's a story about a people. Listen to what the text says, Genesis 11:4.

4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.”

Genesis 11 is the ultimate story of man's attempt to dictate to God how to be God, to make God obligated, to control Him and direct Him according not to His will but to ours. That's the heart of the story, the summary of Genesis 11. Now God comes and He's like, "That's cute," scatters the people, confuses the language, and then the very first thing God does — Genesis 12 — He says, "Abram, it's time to move out of your dad's basement. We've got a job to do. I'm going to make your name great." Who is it that makes people's names great? It's God. It's God that does this. Abram didn't make his name great. God made his name great.

Now God has come to David with this exact same promise: "I have a purpose for you. It's not to build My house — you're not going to do that. I'm going to make your name great." In other words, the purpose of God making Abraham's name great, and the purpose of God making David's name great, was much bigger than just for Abraham or for David. It means that it's a part of God's eternal process of reconciling creation back to Himself. They're serving God's ultimate plan of redemption. It's cosmic. It's communal in scope.

So verse 10, God says,

10 And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may dwell in their own place and be disturbed no more. And violent men shall afflict them no more, as formerly, 11 from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel. And I will give you rest from all your enemies. Moreover, the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house.

There it is. David wants to build God a house of stone and cedar. God will instead build for David a house. David's already living in a house. What house is God talking about? He's talking about a dynasty. The way this sentence is structured is interesting. In the Hebrew, normally it will lead with the verb. Instead, the narrator pulls the noun to the front of the clause. So it literally reads, "A house — the Lord will build for you." A dynasty, a family line that sits on the throne. And this is the word, in the ancient Near East and in David's world, for that kind of dynasty. There's a picture up there on the screen of a stele found at Tel Dan in 1993. It was pulled down from a wall. It's a fragment of a victory monument that was set up, not by Israel, but by an Aramean king — one of Israel's enemies. And this wall was built 150 years after David. On it, in the enemy's own stone, he acknowledges that he is fighting bet David, the house of David. It's the oldest mention of David's name outside of the Bible, and it uses the exact same words that we find in the promise of 2 Samuel: "I will make you a house that will last." And 150 years later, the enemies of Israel are talking about what — the house of David.

The promise gets a little bit more specific as we continue. He says,

12 When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom.

That's a really nice way of talking about death. When we talk about a dynasty, a dynasty is beyond the power of any human to make happen, because a dynasty requires that you're removed from the picture. In order for David to have a dynasty, David has to die so that one of his sons can take up the mantle and continue the dynasty. David has no ability to establish or protect a dynasty. So God says to him, "Dude, you're going to die. But when that happens, I want you to know this: I'm going to make this dynasty secure. I'm going to do what you can't do, David. When you're dead, from you will come — from your own body — an offspring, a seed."

And the echoes here of Genesis 12 are profound, right? Just like Abram, David is called My servant. Just like Abraham, he's promised an offspring. Just like Abraham, he's going to have his name made great. This phrase, "who should come from your own body," is word for word what God says to Abram in Genesis chapter 15. God's doing something now with David that is just as important and just as significant as what He did with Abram in Genesis 12. It's a major turning point in the story of redemption.

So He says, "I will establish his kingdom and he shall build a house for My name." Nowhere in this text does God actually criticize the idea of building a house, a temple, for Him. It's just that David's not the one that God has purposed and planned to do it. And God wasn't waiting for David to take the initiative to make it happen. God already had a plan. It's not David — it's going to be David's son.

13 He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.

The temple's not cancelled. It's just moved into God's timing, and will be handled by God's choice.

"Establish" — כּוּן — kûn — to be firm, stand fast; hiphil: to establish, make firm, prepare; polel: to set up firmly; niphal: to be established, secure (BDB; HALOT) — is the governing word of the rest of this chapter. It's used five times in this chapter. Verse 12: "I will establish his kingdom." Verse 13: "I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever." Verse 16: "Your throne will be established forever." In David's prayer, he'll say it twice more. This is the heart of the promise — that God is the one that can secure. God is the one that can make something stand fast, make it dependable, make it trustworthy. And God is promising to secure David's house, his dynasty, forever. What a promise this is.

It continues: "I will be a father to him. I will be to him a father and he shall be to Me a son." This is adoption language, very common in the ancient Near East. Don't think incarnation here — think adoption. God is not saying David's son will be divine. He's saying that He will claim David's son as His own. And that kind of adoption, fatherhood, the claiming — this is something so unique. You can stop being someone's friend. You can stop being someone's husband or wife — divorce happens. You can stop being someone's enemy. You can stop and change a lot of relationships, but you can never stop being someone's father, and you can never stop being someone's son. In other words, God is saying, "I will never unson him. I will always claim him." And then I love this last part: "When he commits iniquity" — not "if," because he's human after all — "so when he blows it, when he falls short, when he fails, when he commits iniquity, I will discipline him." A father disciplines his child not out of hatred but out of love.

14 I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him with the rod of men, with the stripes of the sons of men,

There's a lot of interesting material in that. This idea — how is God going to bring discipline upon David's son when he blows it? God's saying, "I don't need to bring divine supernatural intervention to discipline him. The natural consequences of his sin will do it for Me. He'll be disciplined with the stripes of men." Right? Like the human problems, enemies, rebels — the ordinary consequences of foolish kings, which is exactly what the rest of this series will show happens to David's son, Solomon, the one who builds the temple. I love that the failure of man was written into the promise of God, and that promise is rooted not in the king's character or performance but in the Lord's. "I will discipline him because I've adopted him, and I will never unson him."

Verse 15 says, "But My steadfast love" — that's that great Hebrew word: steadfast love — חֶסֶד — ḥesed — covenant loyalty, steadfast lovingkindness (HALOT). Covenant loyalty, faithful love.

15 but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you.

Depart — סוּר (hiphil הֵסִיר) — sûr — qal: to turn aside, depart; hiphil: to remove, take away (BDB; HALOT) — shows up in this verse three times. It's the same word three times. Repetition is important — it's what we pay attention to. It's like God saying, "I will not do to you and your dynasty what I just did to Saul and to his." The nature of the promise that He's making to David is different — it's unique. Really, the story of 1 Samuel going into 2 Samuel is a story of the differences between the house of Saul and the house of David. Saul's story is one of departure. 1 Samuel 16:14, it says the Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul — that's the same word. 1 Samuel 18:12, the Lord had departed from Saul. Saul himself spoke it on the night before he died, in 1 Samuel 28:15 — he said God has turned away from me, He's departed from me. Now it's used in the negative for David: "I will never do that to you, David. I will never depart from you."

Verse 16 is the climax. He says,

16 And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’”

The Hebrew here — made sure — אָמַן (niphal נֶאֱמַן) — ʾāman / neʾĕman — niphal: to be firm, reliable, lasting, confirmed; of a house/dynasty: enduring (HALOT 1:63–64) — means to be firm, to be reliable or lasting. When applied to a house or a dynasty, it means enduring. The root that we get this word from is the root that we get "amen" from. It's how we close all of our prayers — "may it be so, it is confirmed, it is certain." The house of David is an "amen" house — one that holds and one that will last.

16 And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’”

See the scope of this. Remember, I told you at the beginning to remember the end of chapter 6, verse 23, where Michal did not have any more children until the day of her death. And in verse 16, here it says that David's kingdom will be made sure forever, and his throne shall be established forever. Those two sentences in the English don't look very similar, but in the Hebrew they follow the exact same structure — "until the day of her death... forever." So we have two houses, two dynasties — one with a funeral, one with a promise never ending. This is the contrast that's being set up by the author of Samuel.

And I really need you not to miss this. This promise to David says not a single word about David's performance, his behavior, or his merit. Not a single word. God doesn't say, "If you, then I." This is not a conditional promise. This is: "David, I'm going to do this for you freely — my choice, my decision, my plan." David is promised this not because of David. David doesn't win his house by merit. His plan to build the temple is rejected by God. The promise comes from God's freedom and not David's merit. And sometimes that's hard for you and me, because we're doers, we're builders. We're raised in a culture of individual accomplishment and performance, and our identity and our egos get built on our ability to perform, to gather, to accrue, to do. We are a "get 'er done" people, right? And David was — he would have fit in — he was a "get 'er done" sort of guy. But we serve a God of grace. We serve a God that freely gives and freely blesses. He gives David a gift he didn't earn, a gift that could never be paid for. And that's true of you and me today. God's favor, God's blessing, God's adoption of us, is actually in spite of us, not because of us. It's because of Him. God's blessing is always and has always and will always be a free gift of grace. That's at the heart of this chapter.

Verse 17 says,

17 In accordance with all these words, and in accordance with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David.

So the bros are chilling out the night before, coming up with a great plan. The next day, Nathan's got to go and deal with that. He speaks it all to David — he delivers the message. And then in verse 18, David responds: "Then David — then King David — went in and sat before the Lord." David goes in before the Lord and he sits down. This is a structural element of the text — it's not telling you a position of prayer or a theology of that. How did this chapter begin? It began with David sitting in his house thinking about building God a house. Now David is sitting before the Lord — where? Well, in the tent, in the fabric, right? He's sitting before the Lord. I find this fascinating, because at the beginning of the chapter he's sitting in a palace that he didn't build for himself — it was a gift. And now he's sitting before the Lord, and the Lord has just promised him a house that — what? — he can't build for himself. Welcome to grace, David. Welcome to God being sovereign.

And the first thing that comes out of his mouth: "Oh Lord, who am I?"

18 Then King David went in and sat before the Lord and said, “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far?

When the free, sovereign, radically surprising grace of God is encountered, this is the first and only appropriate response: "Who am I?" Not just "who am I" — "who is my house?" Like, "Why? Why would You do this to me and to my family, to my children, to those that aren't even here yet?" This is not the first time David has asked a question like this. Back in 1 Samuel chapter 18, David was offered one of Saul's daughters in marriage by Saul. And David's response in 1 Samuel 18,

18 And David said to Saul, “Who am I, and who are my relatives, my father’s clan in Israel, that I should be son-in-law to the king?”

So back when he's offered the wife, he's looking backwards — "Who is my family that deserves this?" Now he's looking forward — "Who is my family that deserves this?" The answer, of course, is they don't deserve it. It's not about David or his family or what they did — it's about the free choice of God. "Who am I, oh Lord, and what is my house that You've brought me thus far?"

Now listen — listen to David's prayer as he contemplates and reflects on what he has just been promised. He says, "This was a small thing in Your eyes, oh Lord. You've spoken also of Your servant's house for a great while to come, and this is instruction for mankind, oh Lord God." Man plans, God laughs. He says, "What more can David say to You? For You know Your servant, oh Lord God. Because of Your promise and according to Your own heart, You have brought about all this greatness to make Your servant know it." Do you hear David in any way saying, "Look what I did"? No — this is all God. "Look what You have done. Look at it — because of Your promise, according to Your heart, You have brought about this greatness to make Your servant know it. Therefore You are great, oh Lord God, there's none like You. There's no God beside You, according to all that we have heard with our ears."

23 And who is like your people Israel, the one nation on earth whom God went to redeem to be his people, making himself a name and doing for them great and awesome things by driving out before your people, whom you redeemed for yourself from Egypt, a nation and its gods? 24 And you established for yourself your people Israel to be your people forever. And you, O Lord, became their God.

"And now, oh Lord God, confirm forever the word that You have spoken concerning Your servant and concerning his house, and do as You have spoken" — not "do what I want You to do." "Lord, I see it, I know it — You are the one that is driving this show. You are the one that is making a way. Lord, do what You have promised. Do as You have spoken, and Your name will be magnified forever, saying, 'The Lord of Hosts is God over Israel,' and the house of Your servant David will be established before You. For You, oh Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, have made this revelation to Your servant, saying, 'I will build you a house.' Therefore Your servant has found courage to pray this prayer to You."

28 And now, O Lord God, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant. 29 Now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you. For you, O Lord God, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.”

In that short prayer, David calls himself God's servant — "your servant" — ten times. He barely refers to himself in the first person. In fact, he moves in the prayer into the third person. His whole self-standing, his identity, his relationship with God has been reframed by the free, sovereign promise of God, the grace of God. He understands, if not for the first time, more clearly than ever, that everything that he is, everything that he has, everything that he might hope for, comes from the hand of God.

I want you to look back at verses 23 to 24 with me really quickly. He says,

23 And who is like your people Israel, the one nation on earth whom God went to redeem to be his people, making himself a name and doing for them great and awesome things by driving out before your people, whom you redeemed for yourself from Egypt, a nation and its gods? 24 And you established for yourself your people Israel to be your people forever. And you, O Lord, became their God.

There's that "established" word again, kûn. Before God established David's house, He established a people. David's house sits inside God's house, not the other way around. And I don't know if you know it or realize it this morning, but that's true of us today, here and now. We're not a collection of individual households that happen to come together on a Sunday. We're able to be here, a part of God's people today, because of something that God has established long before we were here and something that will continue long after. We're a mere moment. We're a part of something so much bigger and so much better.

I love how the chapter ends, verses 28 to 29. David says,

28 And now, O Lord God, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant.

"You have promised this good thing to Your servant." "Your words are true" — this comes from that same root as "sure," back in verse 16. Amen — again, Your words are amen, dependable. Your words are amen, trustworthy.

29 Now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you. For you, O Lord God, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.”

The house is sure because the word is sure. The house is certain because God has blessed and promised with certainty. When we receive a true word, we don't negotiate. It's guaranteed, not earned, promised. We say, "Amen." And we ask God to do what He promised to do. What a text. What a promise. 2 Samuel 7 is a major hinge in the story of God's redemption — beautiful promise, beautiful revelation of God's character and nature and grace, and how God moves with His people.

As I was reflecting about implications for me and for you, for us together out of this text, I think I want to go back to the beginning of it — this conversation between David and Nathan where they both assumed they knew the mind of God without asking Him. I know you've never done that — you've probably read about somebody, or maybe one of your neighbors, or something like that. This is a real thing, a regular consistent thing, where we just assume that God probably thinks a lot like how we think, and that God probably wants the things that we want, in the same way and in the same time. And I don't know of anything the Bible shows to be further from the truth. But that's how we tend to function — we presume and we assume, and we do it without asking Him.

It brought to mind James chapter 4. James is so blunt — he never pulls punches or beats around the bush. He says, "Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go and do such and such in a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit'" — which is everyone that lives, right? So those of you that make plans, those of you that say, "I'm going to do this and then I'm going to do this and then I'm going to do this" — he's like, "Let's be careful about that." He says, "You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? You're a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes." Again, if that hurts your ego, that's probably good, right? You've got to remember who you are in this grand drama of life. You've got to remember how little time you actually have, and how transient and fragile your life truly is, and how limited your understanding and your wisdom is. And it's not saying you shouldn't make plans, but just understand how your ability to make plans actually functions in this thing that we call life. So he says, "Those of you who say we're going to go do this and we're going to go do this — you should check yourself a second." Why? He says, "Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or do that.'" He's not saying just add "if the Lord wills" at the end of whatever your plans are and then it's good. He's talking about this mindset, this perspective, this understanding that David finally has here in 2 Samuel chapter 7. It's like, "God's the one that's God, and I'm here to serve Him."

I think there's great freedom in this understanding, that our job is not to come up with great ideas for God and then make them happen. That's not our job. And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with coming up with great ideas — God made many of us to be dreamers and creative and come up with ideas. But again, I'll say it this morning — there's a difference between good, or even great, ideas and God's ideas. Our job is to discover the ideas, the purposes, the works that God has for us. There's a lot of good things you can do with your life. The question is, what did God make you to do? Building the temple was a good thing — it just wasn't David's thing, because that's not what God had designed him to do.

See, this just takes me to Paul, in that great Ephesians chapter 2, verse 10. We are God's workmanship — His poem, His masterpiece. So we've been built with intention. We've been designed by the master artist for specific functions. I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not all the same, right? And that's on purpose, for a purpose. God makes us differently on purpose, for different purposes. We're God's masterpieces, and we're created in King Jesus to do good things, to do good works, for specific good purposes. If you're still here and you're still breathing, it's because God's got stuff for you to do. The question is not, "Is there stuff for you to do?" There is. The question is, "What's the stuff that God wants you to do?" I love this, because God has already prepared them beforehand. What a sovereign God we have. He makes you specifically for a purpose as His masterpiece, and then He prepares the works in advance that He's made us perfectly suited to accomplish. Who's sovereign? God is sovereign. Who's good? God is good.

And you know, Ephesians 2:10 comes at the end of a paragraph — maybe Paul's greatest paragraph about grace. His point is that, like David, you and I are not chosen for God's purposes based on merit, but by the mercy of God. It's not merit, it's mercy. And it's the same mercy of God that sent Jesus, who is the true and better son of David. Right? You knew I was going to have to go here. So, David's son Solomon did indeed build the temple, which later burned down. David's throne did indeed pass down from son to son to son for 400 years — which is a long time, but it's not forever. 587 BC — almost 600 years before Jesus comes — there's no heir of David on the throne of Israel. For nearly six centuries, the promise of 2 Samuel 7 became the hope and prayer of Israel: "Do as You have promised, God." And after nearly 600 years, an angel appeared to a young woman. Luke chapter 1, the angel says,

31 And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

You hear 2 Samuel chapter 7 on Gabriel's lips. He'll be great. His name will be great. He'll be the Son of the Most High. He'll sit on the throne of David. His kingdom will have no end. Jesus is the ultimate fulfillment of everything promised to David in 2 Samuel chapter 7, but exceeds it in every way. And notice the verb that the angel used there — He said, "The Lord will give to Him the throne." Not that He will take the throne, not that He will grasp the throne or seize the throne. No — the Lord will give to Him the throne. The throne of David comes to Jesus exactly the way the house came to David — as a gift from God that God chose, and it will last forever. The promise God made to a man sitting on the floor of a tent is kept in a Son who even now is reigning, and His reign will never end.

Like David, God doesn't need you and me for what we have to offer. He doesn't need us. But — and this is the good news of the gospel — He still chooses us. He still makes us and forms us and trains us and calls us because He loves us. So like David, we must learn to sit before the Lord in humility. "Lord, who am I? Who am I? But do as You have purposed and do as You have promised in my life, for Your glory and my good." Amen.