A Tale of Three Kings

by Gene Edwards

  “What do you feel he will do, Sage?”

  “Rebels who ascend to the throne by rebellion have no patience with other rebels and their rebellions. When Absalom is faced with rebellion, he will become a tyrant. He will bring ten times the evil he sees in your present king. He will squelch rebellion and rule with an iron hand . . . and by fear. He will eliminate all opposition. This is always the final stage of high-sounding rebellions. Such will be Absalom’s way if he takes the throne from David.”

  “But, Sage, have not some rebellions been of benefit, throwing out brutes and despots?”

  “Oh, yes, a few. But I remind you: This particular kingdom is different from all others. This kingdom is composed of God’s people. It is a spiritual kingdom. I tell you emphatically, no rebellion in the kingdom of God is proper, nor can it ever be fully blessed.”

  “Why do you say this, Sage?”

  “For many reasons. One is obvious. In the spiritual realm, those who lead rebellions have already proven, no matter how grandiose their words or angelic their ways, that they have a critical nature, an unprincipled character, and hidden motives in their hearts. Frankly, they are thieves. They create dissatisfaction and tension within the realm and then either seize power or siphon off followers. They use their followers to found their own dominions. Such a sorry beginning, built on the foundation of insurrection. . . . No, God never honors division in his realm.

  “I find it curious that those who feel qualified to split God’s kingdom do not feel capable of going somewhere else—to another land—to raise up a completely new kingdom. No, they must steal from another leader. I have never seen the exception. They seem always to need at least a few prepackaged followers.

  “Beginning empty-handed and alone frightens the best of men. It also speaks volumes of just how sure they are that God is with them. Their every word, if truly understood, tells of their insecurity.

  “There are many lands unspoiled and unpossessed. There are many people in other places waiting to follow a true king, a true man of God. Why don’t ‘would-be kings and prophets’ simply walk quietly away, alone, then find another people in another place, and there raise up the kingdom they envision?

  “Those who lead rebellions in the spiritual world are unworthy. There are no exceptions. And now I must go. I must join the passing parade.”

  “Tell me, Sage, what is your name?”

  “My name? I am History.”

  Chapter 22

  David stood on the balcony overlooking the gardened terrace of his palace. The lights from the houses in the Holy City twinkled below him. From behind, a man approached. David sighed and, without turning, spoke. “Yes, Joab, what is it?”

  “Have you heard?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard,” he replied quietly.

  “How long have you known?” asked Joab with anxious surprise.

  “For months, years, perhaps a decade. Perhaps I have known for thirty years.”

  Joab was not sure, after this answer, if they were speaking of the same subject. Absalom, after all, was not much past thirty. “Sir, I speak of Absalom,” he said a little hesitantly.

  “As do I,” said the king.

  “If you have known so long, why did you not stop him?”

  “I was just asking myself that same question.”

  “Shall I stop him for you?”

  David whirled round! In one instant, Joab’s query had resolved his dilemma.

  “No! Nor shall you speak one word to him. Nor shall you criticize him. Nor shall you allow anyone else to speak critically of him or what he is doing. Certainly you shall not stop him.”

  “But will he not then take the kingdom?”

  David sighed again, softly, slowly. For a moment he balanced between tears and a smile. Then he smiled lightly and said, “Yes, perhaps he will.”

  “What will you do? Do you have plans?”

  “No. None. Quite frankly, I have no idea what to do. I have fought many battles and faced many sieges. I have usually known what to do. But for this occasion, I have only the experience of my youth to draw on. The course I followed at that time seems to be the best I can follow now.”

  “And what course was that?”

  “To do absolutely nothing.”

  Chapter 23

  David was alone again. Slowly, quietly, he walked the length of his rooftop garden. Finally he paused and spoke aloud to himself.

  “I have waited, Absalom. I have waited and watched for years. I have asked again and again, ‘What is in the heart of this young man?’ And now I know. You will do the unthinkable. You will divide the very kingdom of God. All else was talk.”

  David was quiet for a moment. Then, almost in awe, he spoke, his voice hushed. “Absalom does not hesitate to divide the kingdom of God.

  “Now I know. He seeks followers. Or at least he does not turn them away. Though he seems magnificently pure and noble, still he divides. His followers grow, even though he states convincingly that he has none.”

  For a long time David said nothing. Finally, with a trace of humor in his words, he began to address himself. “All right, good King David, you have one issue resolved. You are in the middle of a division, and you may very well be dethroned. Now, to the second issue.” He paused, lifted his hand and, almost fatally, asked, “What will you do?

  “The kingdom hangs in the balance. It seems I have two choices: to lose everything or to be a Saul. I can stop Absalom. I need only to be a Saul. In my old age, shall I now become a Saul? I feel the Lord himself awaits my decision.

  “Shall I now be a Saul?” he asked himself again, this time loudly.

  A voice from behind answered, “Good King, he has been no David to you.”

  David turned. It was Abishai who had approached unannounced.

  “A crowded place, this terrace,” quipped David.

  “Sir?” said Abishai.

  “Nothing. Suffice it to say I have not been without visitors today—a day when I would have chosen solitude. What did you say to me? In fact, what did I say?”

  “You said, ‘Shall I be a Saul to Absalom?’ and I replied, ‘He has been no young David to you.’”

  “I never challenged Saul; I never attempted to divide the kingdom during his reign. Is that what you are saying?”

  “More,” replied Abishai strongly. “Saul was evil toward you and made your life torture. You responded only with respect and private agony. The bad things that happened in those days came only from one side. All fell on you. Yet you could have divided the kingdom and probably could have overthrown Saul. But rather than do that, you left the kingdom. You fled rather than cause division. You risked your life for unity and sealed your lips and eyes to all his injustices. You had more cause to rebel than any man in the history of this—or of any kingdom that has ever been. Absalom has to twist hard to conjure up his list of injustices . . . few of them significant, I might add.

  “Has Absalom behaved as you did? Has Absalom respected you? Does Absalom seek to preserve the kingdom? Does he refuse to speak against you? Does Absalom turn aside followers? Has Absalom left the land to prevent its being sundered? Is Absalom respectful? Does he bear suffering in silent agony? Have bad things fallen on Absalom?

  “No, he is only pure and noble!”

  Abishai’s last words came out almost in bites. Then he continued, more gravely this time.

  “His grievances are minor compared to your rightful grievances toward Saul. You never mistreated Saul. And you have never, in any way, been unfair to Absalom.”

  David interrupted with a grin. “I seem to have a gift for making old men and young men hate me without a cause. In my youth, the old attacked me; when I am old, the young attack me. What a marvelous achievement.”

  “My point,” continued Abishai, “is that Absalom is no David. Therefore I ask you: Why don’t you stop his rebellion? Stop him, the miserable . . .”

  “Careful, Abishai. Remember he is also a son of the king. We should never speak ill of the so
n of a king.”

  “Good King, I remind you that you refused to raise your sword or your spear even once against Saul. But Absalom speaks against you night and day. He will one day—soon—raise an army against you. Nay, a nation. This nation! Young Absalom is no young David. I counsel you to stop him!”

  “You are asking me, Abishai, to become a Saul,” David replied heavily.

  “No, I’m simply saying he is no David. Stop him!”

  “And if I stop him, will I still be a David? If I stop him, will I not be a Saul?” asked the king, his eyes piercing Abishai. “To stop him, I must become either a Saul or an Absalom.”

  “My king and my friend, I speak to you fondly: I sometimes think you are a bit insane.”

  “Yes, I can see why,” chuckled David.

  “Dear King, Saul was a bad king. Absalom is, in some ways, a youthful incarnation of Saul. You alone are constant. You are forever the brokenhearted shepherd boy. Tell me truthfully, what do you plan?”

  “Until now, I have not been sure. But of this I am certain: In my youth I was no Absalom. And in my old age I shall not be a Saul. In my youth, by your own words, I was David. In my old age I intend to be David still. Even if it costs me a throne, a kingdom, and perhaps my head.”

  Abishai said nothing for a while. Then, slowly, he spoke, making sure he grasped the significance of David’s decision.

  “You were not an Absalom, and you refuse to be a Saul. Sir, if you are not willing to put Absalom down, then I suggest we prepare to evacuate the kingdom. For Absalom will surely take the throne.”

  “Only as surely as King Saul killed the shepherd boy,” replied the wise old king.

  “What?” asked Abishai, startled.

  “Think on it, Abishai. God once delivered a defenseless shepherd boy from the powerful, mad king. He can yet deliver an old ruler from an ambitious young rebel.”

  “You underestimate your adversary,” retorted Abishai.

  “You underestimate my God,” replied David serenely.

  “But why, David? Why not fight?”

  “I will give you the answer. And you will recall—for you were there—that I once gave this same answer to Joab in a cave long ago!

  “It is better that I be defeated, even killed, than to learn the ways of . . . of a Saul or the ways of an Absalom. The kingdom is not that valuable. Let him have it, if that be the Lord’s will. I repeat: I shall not learn the ways of either Saul or Absalom.

  “And now, being an old man, I will add a word I might not have known then. Abishai, no man knows his own heart. I certainly do not know mine. Only God does. Shall I defend my little realm in the name of God? Shall I throw spears, and plot and divide . . . and kill men’s spirits if not their bodies . . . to protect my empire? I did not lift a finger to be made king. Nor shall I do so to preserve a kingdom. Even the kingdom of God! God put me here. It is not my responsibility to take, or keep, authority. Do you not realize, it may be his will for these things to take place? If he chooses, God can protect and keep the kingdom even now. After all, it is his kingdom.

  “As I said, no man knows his own heart. I do not know mine. Who knows what is really in my heart? Perhaps in God’s eyes I am no longer worthy to rule. Perhaps he is through with me. Perhaps it is his will for Absalom to rule. I honestly don’t know. And if this is his will, I want it. God may be finished with me!

  “Any young rebel who raises his hand against a Saul, or any old king who raises his hand against an Absalom, may—in truth—be raising his hand against the will of God.

  “In either case, I shall raise no hand! Wouldn’t I look a little strange trying to stay in control if God desires that I fall?”

  “But you know that Absalom should not be king!” replied Abishai in frustration.

  “Do I? No man knows. Only God knows, and he has not spoken. I did not fight to be king, and I will not fight to remain king. May God come tonight and take the throne, the kingship, and . . .” David’s voice faltered. “And his anointing from me. I seek his will, not his power. I repeat, I desire his will more than I desire a position of leadership. He may be through with me.”

  “King David?” A voice came from behind the two men.

  “Yes? Oh, a messenger. What is it?”

  “Absalom. He wishes to see you a moment. He wants to ask permission to go to Hebron to make a sacrifice.”

  “David,” said Abishai hoarsely, “you know what that really means, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  David turned to the messenger. “Tell Absalom I will be there in a moment.”

  David looked one last time at the quiet city below, then turned and walked toward the door.

  “Will you let him go to Hebron?” Abishai demanded.

  “I will,” said the great king. “Yes, I will.”

  Then he turned to the messenger. “This is a dark hour for me. When I have finished speaking to Absalom, I shall retire. Tomorrow have one of the prophets come to me for consultation. Or a scribe. On second thought, send me Zadok, the high priest. Ask him to join me here after the evening sacrifice.”

  Abishai called out once more, softly this time. Admiration flashed across his face. “Good King, thank you.”

  “For what?” the puzzled king asked as he turned back in the doorway.

  “Not for what you have done, but for what you have not done. Thank you for not throwing spears, for not rebelling against kings, for not exposing a man in authority when he was so very vulnerable, for not dividing a kingdom, for not attacking young Absaloms who look like young Davids but are not.”

  He paused. “And thank you for suffering, for being willing to lose everything. Thank you for giving God a free hand to end, and even destroy, your kingdom— if it pleases him. Thank you for being an example to us all.

  “And most of all,” he chuckled, “thank you for not consulting witches.”

  Chapter 24

  “Nathan!”

  “Yes? Oh, it’s you, Zadok.”

  “You will pardon my intrusion, Nathan, but I have been observing you for several moments now. You were about to enter the throne room, I believe, to see King David?”

  “Yes, Zadok. That was my intent, but I have thought better of it. The king has no need of me.”

  “I am disappointed, Nathan. In my judgment the king has great need of you. He is facing the gravest test of his life. I am not sure he can pass a test as demanding as this one.”

  “He has already passed this test, Zadok,” countered Nathan with a sureness in his voice that showed him to be a prophet of God.

  “David has already passed this test? Forgive me, Nathan, but I have no idea what you mean. This crisis, as you well know, has just begun.”

  “Zadok, your king passed this test long ago, when he was a young man.”

  “You speak of Saul? But that, my friend, was a wholly different matter.”

  “Not at all. It is exactly the same. There is really no difference at all. As David related to his God and to the man over him at that time long ago . . . so now David will also relate to his God and to the man under him. There can be no difference. Not ever.

  “True, circumstances may be altered . . . slightly. Ever so slightly, I might add. But the heart! Ah, the heart is always the same.

  “Zadok, I have always been grateful Saul was our first king. I shudder to think of the trouble he might have caused if, as a young man, he had found himself under some other king. There is no real difference between the man who discovers a Saul in his life and the man who finds an Absalom in his life. In either situation, the corrupt heart will find its ‘justification.’ The Sauls of this world can never see a David; they see only Absalom. The Absaloms of this world can never see a David; they see only Saul.”

  “And the pure heart?” asked Zadok.

  “Ah, now there is a rare thing indeed. How does a man with a broken heart handle an Absalom? The way he handled a Saul? We will soon know, Zadok!”

  “You and I were not privileged to
be there when David came to his hour with Saul. But we are privileged to be present in his hour with Absalom. I for one intend to watch this unfolding drama very closely. And in so doing, I have the good expectation of learning a lesson or two. Mark my words, David will work his way through this thing—and he will pass this test with the same grace he displayed in his youth.”

  “And Absalom?”

  “What of Absalom?”

  “In a few hours he may be our king. Is that not your point?”

  “There is that possibility,” replied Zadok, almost with humor.

  Nathan laughed. “If Absalom gains the throne, may heaven have mercy on all the Sauls, Davids, and Absaloms of the realm!

  “In my judgment our young Absalom will make a splendid Saul,” continued Nathan as he turned and strolled down the long corridor.

  “Yes. A splendid Saul. For in every way but age and position, Absalom is already a Saul.”

  Chapter 25

  “I thank you for coming,Zadok.”

  “My king.”

  “You are a priest of God. Could you tell me a story of long ago?”

  “What story, my king?”

  “Do you know the story of Moses?”

  “I do.”

  “Tell it to me.”

  “It is long; shall I tell it all?”

  “No, not all.”

  “Then what part?”

  “Tell me about Korah’s rebellion.”

  The high priest stared at David with eyes burning. David stared back, his also ablaze. The two men understood.

  “I shall tell you the story of Korah’s rebellion and of Moses’ behavior in the midst of that rebellion.

  “Many have heard the story of Moses. He is the supreme example of the Lord’s anointed. God’s true government rests upon a man—no, upon the contrite heart of a man. There is no form or order to God’s government; there is only a man or woman with a contrite heart. Moses was such a man.

  “Korah was not such a man, although he was the first cousin of Moses. Korah wanted the authority Moses had. One peaceful morning, Korah awoke. There was no discord among God’s people that morning, but before the day was over he had found 252 men to agree with his charges against Moses.”