“David said, ‘Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake?’ Now there was a servant of the house of Saul whose name was Ziba, and they called him to David. And the king said to him, ‘Are you Ziba?’ And he said, ‘I am your servant.’ And the king said, ‘Is there not still someone of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God to him?’ Ziba said to the king, ‘There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in his feet.’ The king said to him, ‘Where is he?’ And Ziba said to the king, ‘He is in the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar.’ Then King David sent and brought him from the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar. And Mephibosheth the son of Jonathan, son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and paid homage. And David said, ‘Mephibosheth!’ And he answered, ‘Behold, I am your servant.’ And David said to him, ‘Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always.’ And he paid homage and said, ‘What is your servant, that you should show regard for a dead dog such as I?’
“Then the king called Ziba, Saul’s servant, and said to him, ‘All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to your master’s grandson. And you and your sons and your servants shall till the land for him and shall bring in the produce, that your master’s grandson may have bread to eat. But Mephibosheth your master’s grandson shall always eat at my table.’ Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty servants. Then Ziba said to the king, ‘According to all that my lord the king commands his servant, so will your servant do.’ So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table, like one of the king’s sons. And Mephibosheth had a young son, whose name was Mica. And all who lived in Ziba’s house became Mephibosheth’s servants. So Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, for he ate always at the king’s table. Now he was lame in both his feet.” [1]
David, the shepherd boy who became a king, had a life packed with momentous events. You no doubt recall that while delivering provisions to his brothers who were serving in Saul’s army, the young man heard the taunts of a Philistine giant as he insulted the people of God. All the mighty men trembled and cowered at the giant’s challenge; no one was willing to fight this intimidating warrior. The fear was palpable, contagious. David, however, was offended that anyone—giant or otherwise—would defy the Living God. He castigated the warriors, asking, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the Living God” [1 SAMUEL 17:26b]?
You remember the rest of the story—David killed the giant, and the Israelites, heartened by what this lad had accomplished, gained a great victory over the enemies of the LORD on that day. David became a leader for Saul’s army, which led to great problems as Saul grew increasingly jealous of David’s prowess. The king could not tolerate that someone, even one who was committed to the welfare of the royal family, could receive greater recognition than the king himself. Saul became increasingly mad at the thought that David had greater recognition than he did.
However, among the members of the royal family was one man who rejoiced in what God was doing through this young leader. Jonathan immediately accepted what God was doing when the shepherd boy delivered the nation from humiliation before the enemies of the LORD. Thus, we read in Scripture, “As soon as David returned from the striking down of the Philistine, Abner took him, and brought him before Saul with the head of the Philistine in his hand. And Saul said to him, ‘Whose son are you, young man?’ And David answered, ‘I am the son of your servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.’
“As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father’s house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt” [1 SAMUEL 17:57-18:4].
As Saul’s madness progressed, Jonathan openly resisted by praising David and standing up for this leader of the armies. At last, Saul’s rage could no longer be contained, and it became necessary for the young warrior to flee. The choice was stark—either kill Saul, or be killed by Saul. David refused to lift his hand against the Lord’s anointed, so he fled for his own safety.
Before he fled from Saul’s presence, David met with Jonathan one final time. Jonathan pleaded with David at that time, “The LORD, the God of Israel, be witness! When I have sounded out my father, about this time tomorrow, or the third day, behold, if he is well disposed toward David, shall I not then send and disclose it to you? But should it please my father to do you harm, the LORD do so to Jonathan and more also if I do not disclose it to you and send you away, that you may go in safety. May the LORD be with you, as he has been with my father.” And the king’s son pleaded with David that day, “If I am still alive, show me the steadfast love of the LORD, that I may not die; and do not cut off your steadfast love from my house forever, when the LORD cuts off every one of the enemies of David from the face of the earth” [1 SAMUEL 20:12-15]. That day, Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, “May the LORD take vengeance on David’s enemies” [1 SAMUEL 20:16].
David would see Jonathan one final time three days later. David had absented himself from Saul’s presence. After three days, the king was deeply agitated at David’s absence. Saul imagined that David was plotting to overthrow him and that was why he was absent. However, Jonathan tested his father with a ruse, saying that David had to attend a family celebration. Saul was so enraged by this that he even threw his spear at his own son in a wild attempt to kill him.
Jonathan did meet David as they had arranged. The two men wept at this meeting. Their sorrow at the strain on their friendship was intensified by the disruption that was being felt throughout Israel by Saul’s madness. They grieved over the division Saul’s partisanship would surely create in the nation, but most of all, they grieved at the thought that they would not see one another again—their friendship was that great. At that time, Jonathan said to David, “Go in peace, because we have sworn both of us in the name of the LORD, saying, ‘The LORD shall be between me and you, and between my offspring and your offspring, forever’” [1 SAMUEL 20:42a]. With that, David left to begin life on the run, and Jonathan returned and entered into the city. These two men who had shared so much during battles for king were torn apart by his madness.
David and Jonathan, the two unlikely friends, would see one another but once more. Their meeting would emphasise the covenant of friendship they had already made. The account informs us, “David saw that Saul had come out to seek his life. David was in the wilderness of Ziph at Horesh. And Jonathan, Saul’s son, rose and went to David at Horesh, and strengthened his hand in God. And he said to him, ‘Do not fear, for the hand of Saul my father shall not find you. You shall be king over Israel, and I shall be next to you. Saul my father also knows this.’ And the two of them made a covenant before the LORD. David remained at Horesh, and Jonathan went home” [1 SAMUEL 23:15-18].
David did become king after Saul’s death. Saul’s madness ultimately led to his death and the death of almost every one of his children in a disastrous battle against the Philistines. One cannot defy the Lord and expect to prosper. Saul sought to build a dynasty for himself, but his efforts all turned to dust and he was left with nothing.
On the day that Saul was slain in battle, a son named Ish-bosheth assumed the kingship over Israel. But God was blessing David; and there was a prolonged civil war between the armies David had gathered around himself and the armies that were loyal to the House of Saul. The House of David grew stronger, while the House of Saul steadily lost strength. One day, Ish-bosheth accused the leader of his armies, a valiant warrior named Abner, of sleeping with one of the royal concubines. The accusation was a final straw for this loyal leader. He went to David to offer to bring the war to a conclusion, delivering the kingdom to David without shedding any more blood.
Joab was the Field Commander of David’s armies, and when he learned of Abner’s offer to David, Joab was fearful that he might lose his own influence. Using rank subterfuge, he called Abner as if to cement a peace pact; but when Abner came to Joab, Joab showed himself to be craven and petty. He beguiled Abner into lowering his guard before stabbing him in the stomach and killing him.
The problems for Ish-bosheth multiplied exponentially. Shortly, two men who served as captains of raiding bands assassinated Ish-bosheth, cutting off his head and bringing the grisly trophy to David. They were repaid for their deceptive cowardice when David had them executed for daring to lift their hands against a king. It is here that our story takes a turn that will ultimately lead us to our text.
In that ancient day, when a king was killed, it was common that the one killing the king would execute all the members of the royal family. The treatment of the royals was not unlike the actions of a lion when the leader of the pride is slain. The new pride leader kills all the cubs and takes control of the pride. There will be none of the lineage of the old to threaten the new. And the process would repeat itself ad infinitum.
In the midst of this account of the destruction of the House of Saul, we read a sentence that seems almost to be a throwaway line. The divine chronicler writes, “Jonathan, the son of Saul, had a son who was crippled in his feet. He was five years old when the news about Saul and Jonathan came from Jezreel, and his nurse took him up and fled, and as she fled in her haste, he fell and became lame. And his name was Mephibosheth” [2 SAMUEL 4:4].
Mephibosheth! That’s an odd name, don’t you think? “Mephibosheth” means “one who dispels shame.” Perhaps Jonathan felt in some way that the birth of this child dispelled some particular shame from his family. Or perhaps he was thinking of the cult of Baal which had long plagued the Israelites, and Jonathan thought this child would somehow turn Israel to the worship of the True and Living God again.
What is important is that a baby-sitter heard of the murder of Ish-bosheth and was frightened for the children in her charge. Thinking that the assassins would come to kill the children and the grandchildren, she snatched up the child she was baby-sitting and attempted to run. As she carried the little boy, she tripped or she stumbled, dropping the child and perhaps even falling on him. In the fall, the child suffered an injury. We don’t know if he had a broken foot, or a broken leg, or whether the tenons of his ankle or knee were severely torn. Whatever happened to the child, he would be forever handicapped. Without doctors to properly set the fracture, or to mend the torn tenons, the injury would heal, leaving the child with a pronounced limp for the remainder of days.
I suffered such an injury as a young man. During my second year in medical school I stepped into a hole while playing touch football. Someone had pulled off the head of an underground sprinkler, leaving a hole. Grass grew over the hole, creating a trap for some unsuspecting young man running through the yard. I did step into the hole and I went down hard. My foot was held secure by the hole, but my body continued forward, carried by the momentum of my weight. That didn’t work out well for me.
I could barely walk, though I did manage to hobble to the school the following morning. I had wrapped my ankle as tightly as possible with an Ace Bandage, but I realised, even with my limited knowledge at that time, that I had injured myself quite severely. I consulted with a man who was completing a sabbatical at the medical school. Derek was an orthopedic surgeon from Canada. He would shortly be returning to Toronto. It seemed appropriate that I ask him about the injury. I hoped I wouldn’t be forced to cast the foot, losing what I imagined to be precious time in pursuing my degree.
I still recall the conversation Derek and I had that morning. He informed me that he was not licenced to practise medicine in the United States, but he suggested that I seat myself on a stool while he went about his work. He would muse about what I presented, and I could do with his musings as I saw fit. He suggested that I presented with “chronic recurring ankle collapse.” I mused back that at the prices orthopedic surgeons charged, the condition deserved a Latin name. He smiled and continued with his musing.
The conclusion of his musing was that I had suffered a severe injury—more severe than I had first imagined. Were I to consult most specialists, they would likely recommend surgery. However, in those days, the surgery was complicated, leaving the patient in considerable pain and with limited mobility of the ankle. My erstwhile friend recommended some exercises that would strengthen the opposing side of the injured ankle. That is what I did. Even with that care, it was months before I could walk without noticeable pain. And to this day, the ankle collapses under me without warning, dropping me on my face. I have lived with this condition for almost five decades since that time, and the pain can be pronounced. Consequently, I feel an uncomfortable affinity with Mephibosheth. I have no doubt this child suffered greatly as result of this one incident.
Time passed, the boy grew, living in what appears to be relative poverty and enjoying a good measure of obscurity. David united the kingdom under his reign, put down the threat of assault from the Philistines, bested the Syrians in combat, and subdued Edom, Moab, Ammon and Amalek. Then, David began to gather the materials that would be required to build the Temple of the LORD God. God denied him the privilege of building the Temple because he was a warrior; but God did permit David the privilege of gathering materials that would be needed so that his son would be able to build the Temple. At last, David’s kingdom was secure and the nation enjoyed a measure of peace.
I HAVE A DEBT! The eighth chapter of 2 Samuel concludes with these words, “So David reigned over all Israel. And David administered justice and equity to all his people. Joab the son of Zeruiah was over the army, and Jehoshaphat the son of Ahilud was recorder, and Zadok the son of Ahitub and Ahimelech the son of Abiathar were priests, and Seraiah was secretary, and Benaiah the son of Jehoiada was over the Cherethites and the Pelethites, and David’s sons were priests” [2 SAMUEL 8:15-18].
I understand that you who listen to me are not kings. You don’t reign on a throne, nor do you have a retinue of servants who hasten to carry out your wishes. Consequently, you may imagine that whatever I may say concerning David and his actions have no bearing on your life. You may find it easy to dismiss whatever value may be derived from a study of the manner in which David conducted his life as King of Israel. However, if you adopt that particular view, you will miss instruction that is invaluable for us as Christians, as we witness events surrounding the lives of the men and women whom we meet in the Word of God.
Here is what I mean. We have no difficulty in accepting that Christians should emulate David in his dependence on the LORD. We are quite comfortable in encouraging followers of the Christ to adopt David’s practise of having confidence in God as expressed through the twenty-third Psalm, or any of a number of the other Psalms he wrote. We should have no difficulty in pointing to David’s efforts to be righteous in honouring the memory of those who stood with him in the hard times. Thus, remembering those who stood with us in the past is honourable, and it is godly.
The text leads the reader to understand that David now had time for reflection, time to think rather than being constantly compelled to focus on the immediate. Someone has presciently said, “Good is enemy of the best.” David was a good king, but some of the best things he would accomplish lay ahead. As he thought on all that had happened to him in the past, David recalled the covenant between Jonathan and himself. One day, perhaps thinking of the friendship of his dear friend Jonathan, the king asked, “Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake” [2 SAMUEL 9:1]?
After reflecting on past battles, David was acknowledging, “I have a debt to pay—a debt of love. I owe Jonathan respect for having been my friend, for having stood with me at a low point.” Jonathan had supported David, even against his own father, Saul. Jonathan had been a friend when being a friend was costly.
I’ve often thought back over my life and wondered if it would be possible to do something for those who blessed me in my earlier days. I’ve often thought that were I blessed to have access to wealth, I would establish a bursary, establish a scholarship, or endow a chair for biochemistry at the Einstein College of Medicine. The Jewish faculty were exceptionally considerate and kind to me during my brief days in study at that school. I have daydreamed of how I would enjoy gifting dear friends who stood with me in times of crisis, giving them a generous remembrance to bless them. I have wished that I had sufficient funds to provide a large, generous gift for the ministries of this congregation that has been such a blessing to me. Perhaps I could fund the radio and television ministries to ensure that they continue long after I am gone. I think it is natural to remember those who blessed us and long to find a way to remember them by blessing others. It is a powerful means of honouring the memory of those who stood with us.
As I’ve aged, I am sometimes amazed at the manner in which Lynda and I are led to reflect on events from our past. At the strangest times, we find ourselves recalling past crises we faced in our walk through life and we reflect on dear friends who stood with us during those demanding times. We recall with genuine joy even some individuals whose names are now forgotten, though their kindness is not forgotten. Decades after the events, we remember the friendships that enriched us and made our life just a little more pleasant. Though some aspects of those events are hazy, the kindness shown us is not forgotten. Something like that appears to have been at work in David’s mind.
David no longer had to have immediate control over every facet of the Kingdom. He had good people in place to oversee the day-to-day operation of the Kingdom. Coupled with David’s administrative work, the Kingdom was running smoothly—justice was being administered; the entire population was treated with equity; the defences of the nation held potential foes at bay; God was honoured from the highest levels of government to the most humble citizen. The Kingdom was operating as it should. At last, the king had time to step back and reflect on all that the LORD had accomplished through him. The blessings of God had at last given some respite from the pressure of the immediate, and the king could actually hit pause on some of the demands.
It was time for David to repay a debt of love. Oh, he didn’t actually owe a monetary debt, but there was a debt of love that pressed down on David’s heart. That sort of debt weighs even more heavily on us than does any fiscal debt. Jonathan had been slain by the Philistines standing with his father in that last traumatic battle. David’s grief was compounded by the fact that he had been absent during that last battle.
David composed a lament, encouraging all Judah to learn the lament. He wrote,
“Your glory, O Israel, is slain on your high places!
How the mighty have fallen!
Tell it not in Gath,
publish it not in the streets of Ashkelon,
lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice,
lest the daughters of the uncircumcised exult.
“You mountains of Gilboa,
let there be no dew or rain upon you,
nor fields of offerings!
For there the shield of the mighty was defiled,
the shield of Saul, not anointed with oil.
“From the blood of the slain,
from the fat of the mighty,
the bow of Jonathan turned not back,
and the sword of Saul returned not empty.
“Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely!
In life and in death they were not divided;
they were swifter than eagles;
they were stronger than lions.
“You daughters of Israel, weep over Saul,
who clothed you luxuriously in scarlet,
who put ornaments of gold on your apparel.
“How the mighty have fallen
in the midst of the battle!
“Jonathan lies slain on your high places.
I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;
very pleasant have you been to me;
your love to me was extraordinary,
surpassing the love of women.
“How the mighty have fallen,
and the weapons of war perished!”
[2 SAMUEL 1:19-27]
David’s lament was an expression of his deep kinship with Jonathan. He felt deeply the pain of personal loss—loss that was undoubtedly exacerbated by the knowledge that he wasn’t able to stand with Jonathan during that final battle. The immediate challenges of uniting the kingdom, fighting to preserve his own life and securing the kingdom against invasion from foreign armies had precluded David doing more than mourning at the time he was informed of Jonathan’s death. When the kingdom was secured and there were no immediate enemies to threaten him or the nation, David was able to think, recalling the promises made when he and Jonathan had last conversed.
IS THERE ANYONE WHOM I MAY REPAY? “David said, ‘Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan’s sake?’ Now there was a servant of the house of Saul whose name was Ziba, and they called him to David. And the king said to him, ‘Are you Ziba?’ And he said, ‘I am your servant.’ And the king said, ‘Is there not still someone of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God to him?’ Ziba said to the king, ‘There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in his feet’” [2 SAMUEL 9:1-3].
Some years past I was somewhat surprised when old classmates began to contact me unexpectedly. Mike Burris, Sue Ann Weber, LaDonna Gibson—names I hadn’t heard in decades, after searching the Internet to find how to contact me had sent Emails. They and several others within a relatively short period of time established contact after years of silence. They were full of the normal gossip of who was still around and who had died. Had I heard that Randy Blaker had died? What about Terry Topham? Was I aware that Jimmy Raymond was now a pastor in my little home town? Did I know that LaDonna Gibson and David Cranor had married and were living in Texas? Each of them wondered what I had been doing in the intervening years since graduation from high school in my little town. Most wondered if I would ever attend a high school reunion. As life begins to slow down, we have time to remember. As we age, we remember, our thoughts often turning to those we have known from the past. So it was with David.
The life of David the King had been intimately intertwined with the house of Saul. David had even married a daughter of Saul, a marriage that must surely have stirred mixed emotions for David. Saul had elevated the young shepherd to an exalted position within the Kingdom; and then he had driven David from the comfort of his home, threatening his life while making him a wanted man. Reading the life of David, we see respect for Saul as king and refusal to surrender integrity just to make the maddened king feel good about himself. Then there was Jonathan, Saul’s son.
Those men who have shared combat, men who have faced death in the company of others who stood with them, have a deep affection for one another, an affection that is perhaps unexplainable, but an affection that is nevertheless real. Here is an example of such deep affection. Eli Fobbs was assigned to Charlie Company, the First Battalion, Ninth Marines. In early April, 1967, the Company approached the village of Phu An when they were ambushed by the 234th Division of North Vietnamese Army.
Eli was wounded in the arms and legs and overwhelmed by four Viet Cong. They drug him into the treeline and began to torture him. Almost every other member of his platoon was either dead or wounded—platoon leaders were all dead. A man who was relatively new in country, James Stogner recognised the sound of artillery rounds coming in. He knew there would soon be illumination rounds hanging, so he knelt in the darkness and waited. As soon as the sky lit up, Stogner began to kill enemy soldiers who were moving silently among the wounded Marines, killing them.
When his newly issued M-16 rifle jammed, he grabbed his K-bar knife and began to silently kill enemy soldiers. Fobbs was still being tortured when those tormenting him became aware that something strange was happening out in the open. One of the soldiers went out to see what was going on. He never came back. Another NVA soldier likewise ventured out and never returned. Fobbs related, “The other two guys were still going at me when suddenly this skinny white dude came screaming out of the darkness like a wild man… He stabbed one in the chest and quickly grabbed the last guy, wrestled him to the ground, and, well, he was a goner too.”
Stogner threw Fobbs over his shoulder, grabbed the M-60 machine gun that Fobbs was responsible for, and struggled back to friendly lines. Amid grenade explosions and small arms fire, Stogner eventually delivered his human cargo to safety until both were airlifted out for medical treatment the next morning.
Recently, Eli Fobbs said, “You know, I’ve seen and talked with James, but it took forty-one years for us to get together… We are dear friends. But I have black friends that don’t believe this story, a story of a skinny white kid saving a black man in combat. I got news for them, the only colour in war is red, and we all bled it.” [2]
You can understand that Eli Fobbs and James Stogner have a deep respect and affection for one another than cannot be explained by race, by nationality, by sex—they have shared life reduced to the barest element. They now have a kinship that is stronger than anything that those who have never shared such hardship could ever understand. That was the affection that David and Jonathan had for one another. They had stood together in the hard place. They had shared deprivation and refused to quit in the face of trial. They had known what it is to be threatened and through sheer force of will obtain victory over the circumstances and over the enemy.
When Saul forced David to flee for his life, Jonathan had made a covenant with David. Jonathan made the harried man swear by his love for him [see 1 SAMUEL 20:1-17]. That initial covenant was effectively renewed and even strengthened during the last visit these two men of war would enjoy. The text states, “David saw that Saul had come out to seek his life. David was in the wilderness of Ziph at Horesh. And Jonathan, Saul’s son, rose and went to David at Horesh, and strengthened his hand in God. And he said to him, ‘Do not fear, for the hand of Saul my father shall not find you. You shall be king over Israel, and I shall be next to you. Saul my father also knows this.’ And the two of them made a covenant before the LORD. David remained at Horesh, and Jonathan went home” [1 SAMUEL 23:15-18]. David had a debt, and the time to repay that debt had come.
You may protest that you are not a king and your life can still be hectic, leaving scant time to think. Nevertheless, there will be those quiet moments when your mind is free to wander to past events. And there are those uninvited moments when some event triggers a memory of someone who encouraged you at a critical moment. What have you done to let that person know how truly essential their encouragement was, and how their investment in your life has paid dividends? What have you done to honour the memory of that individual if they are no longer available to hear your encouragement?
Some years ago, I harvested a nice whitetail during the fall hunt. My hunting partners that day placed a calf halter on my deer and took pictures of the harvest, forcing me to kneel behind the deer. It appeared to those who didn’t know me, that the deer had been tied up so that I could walk up to it and shoot it. That picture was posted in a local gun store, creating a fair degree of hilarity at my expense. In fact, that picture is one of the pictures composing my screen saver on my desktop to this day.
A few weeks ago, I received a text of nothing but that picture. I knew instantly the source of the text, though the number wasn’t in my phone list at the time. The man who sent the picture was brother to one of the jokesters. And these were sons of a gracious woman who had treated me as though I was part of her family. The men had practically adopted me as one of their brothers. Each time I see those men, I remember their mother and their dad, a couple who were unfailingly gracious and kind. There was not a Christmas in which Kathy did not ensure that I received a care package of red pepper jelly and other homemade treats. I never visited their home except I was invited in for coffee and whatever treats she had recently baked. If the time I was there coincided with any meal, Kathy would insist that I had to stay and break bread with the family. Her kindness and generosity made a great impression on me. I’m simply repaying a debt of love when I visit with her sons; and they will always find a warm welcome in my home.
HOW CAN I PAY HIM? “The king said to [Ziba], ‘Where is [Mephibosheth]?’ And Ziba said to the king, ‘He is in the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar.’ Then King David sent and brought him from the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar. And Mephibosheth the son of Jonathan, son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and paid homage. And David said, ‘Mephibosheth!’ And he answered, ‘Behold, I am your servant.’ And David said to him, ‘Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always.’ And he paid homage and said, ‘What is your servant, that you should show regard for a dead dog such as I?’
“Then the king called Ziba, Saul’s servant, and said to him, ‘All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to your master’s grandson. And you and your sons and your servants shall till the land for him and shall bring in the produce, that your master’s grandson may have bread to eat. But Mephibosheth your master’s grandson shall always eat at my table.’ Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty servants. Then Ziba said to the king, ‘According to all that my lord the king commands his servant, so will your servant do.’ So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table, like one of the king’s sons. And Mephibosheth had a young son, whose name was Mica. And all who lived in Ziba’s house became Mephibosheth’s servants. So Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, for he ate always at the king’s table. Now he was lame in both his feet” [2 SAMUEL 9:4-13].
David would be kind to Mephibosheth, not because Mephibosheth was deserving, nor even because they were good friends. David didn’t even know Mephibosheth! David would show kindness to Mephibosheth because he was the son of Jonathan, and David would honour the memory of Jonathan by showing kindness toward his son.
This raises the question, is there someone to whom you owe a debt? Is there someone who assisted you in becoming the woman or the man you are today? Perhaps we are speaking of an individual who believed in you when you were questioning your own purpose. Jonathan recognised in David qualities that would make him into a great king. Did you see Jonathan’s confession when he made that final covenant with David. Look at his confession recorded in 1 SAMUEL 23:17: “Do not fear, for the hand of Saul my father shall not find you. You shall be king over Israel, and I shall be next to you. Saul my father also knows this.” Jonathan knew, and Saul, deranged though he might appear, knew that God had anointed David as king. Either of these men saw characteristics marking David as a man after God’s own heart. There may have been someone who believed in you, seeing in you potential you couldn’t see in your own life.
Of course, some who hear me today will have imagined that I would turn the message toward the fact that the Living God, He Who is King of kings and Lord of lords, calls us to meet Him. God calls to all who will hear,
“Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.”
[ISAIAH 1:18]
Again, the Lord God invites you, if you will hear Him, promising,
“Seek the LORD while he may be found;
call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake his way,
and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
[ISAIAH 55:6-9]
I would not deny this gracious call. We owe a debt to the gracious Lord of Glory. Christ Jesus, the Son of God, gave His life as a sacrifice so that you and I would not need to pay the ultimate debt of our life. Our Lord has delivered from eternal judgement all who receive Him as Master over life. In that vein, know that you owe a debt to those who helped you become the individual who are, and you should pay that debt, to be certain. However, you have a debt that cannot be paid, a debt of love to the Lord Who has shown you mercy and grace, preserving your life and offering His own life as a sacrifice because of your sin.
Remember those who loved you, those who stood with you in a hard place to encourage you, ensuring that you did not fall. Determine to show them your love by speaking with them, if possible, to tell them how greatly they encouraged you. If it is not possible to speak with them, show your gratitude to their family or by making a memorial in their memory—perhaps to provide a missionary gift in their name or perhaps to simply inform your own family of how greatly you were blessed to have had such a friend.
Above all else, I want you to listen carefully, for the King of kings is calling you to come to Him. And you can hear Him if you listen. That great king calls you, saying, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and my load is not hard to carry” [MATTHEW 11:28-30 NET BIBLE]. Amen.
[1] Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. Wheaton: Standard Bible Society, 2016. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
[2] Pete Mecca, “Courage Under Fire,” Sgt. Grit Community, March 5, 2021, https://blog.grunt.com/blog/courage-under-fire-2/, accessed 14 April 2021
