Hanging Between Heaven and Earth given August 9, 2015

Absalom was the third of King David's seventeen sons. Maybe it was just because David had too many children to do a decent job of parenting any one of them. That of course was in part because David had too many wives. Let's see-- seventeen sons, probably close to that many daughters--round it off-at thirty kids.

            So what? Somewhere between twenty and forty wives?  No wonder David was a lousy father-- the man could have had anywhere from fifty to eighty in-laws to contend with!  It's a wonder that David got anything done in his kingdom! 

            One thing this story illustrates is that there is no “Biblically ordained” model for the structuring a family. All sorts of family and marriage arrangements are found in the Bible. Family structure is cultural—not Biblical.

            Of course, as this morning’s reading also illustrates, some structures tend to work better than others. In fact, it may well be that the most basic moral of this morning's sermon would have to be, for heaven's sake, keep the number of your excess wives and husbands  down to a manageable level!

Just as likely though, David was such a lousy father was because he was too busy being King to pay attention to his kids. Maybe it was also in part because, as we saw in his rather cold-blooded seduction of Bathsheeba, David didn't have much respect for the virtues and values of family life. Maybe it was also because, as history teaches us, royal princes and princesses are almost always a handful to raise.

In any case, David was never much of a father-- not to Absalom, not to any of his children. The old man was always ignoring them, or spoiling them rotten, or reading them the riot act. And at the back of all of David's sons minds must have been the knowledge that when pop finally kicked the bucket, there was sure to be one bitter and bloody struggle for the succession between the seventeen of them. And they would have expected that the struggle would likely end with the massacre of any surplus surviving Princes.

None of that can possibly make for the upbringing of an emotionally healthy child.  None of that is likely to lead to the development of well-rounded adults.  None of that could have promoted a whole lot of stability of character or affection among Absalom and his brothers and sisters.

From the beginning, Absalom had a couple of other strikes against him as well. For one thing, he was the pretty boy of David's brood. He was too handsome for his own good. and his pride and joy was his long, luxuriant mane of blue-black hair.

For another thing, Absalom apparently had an impatient nature and a terrible temper. This, combined with his single-minded blood-thirstiness and twisted sense of justice, made Absalom capable of acts of vengeance that would have done the Godfather proud.

When his lecherous half-brother Ammon raped Absalom’s full sister Tamar, Absalom swore to have revenge. He bided his time for two years, waiting for his chance. Finally he set it up. He invited all of his brothers and half- brothers to a sheep-shearing party and murdered Ammon in front of them all. Then Absalom fled the country to take refuge with his mother's family.

When Absalom returned to Israel several years later, David refused to see him, and had him placed under house arrest in a distant estate. A couple of years after that,  Absalom asked Joab, David's old friend and faithful general, to intercede with the king for him. But Joab refused. Angry, the King's son set fire to a neighboring hay field that belonged to the old war-horse. Of course, soft-hearted David eventually forgave Absalom-- probably just as the boy knew that he would.

Once back in Jerusalem, Absalom did everything he could to undermine David’s rule. The ordinary people of Israel must have found this combination of good looks, well-bred arrogance, and romantic derring-do well nigh irresistible. And a few years later, when the impatient Absalom decided to lead a revolt against his father, a great many supporters flocked to his banner. The young and dashing Prince probably reminded them greatly of his father as a wild and reckless young man. They no doubt remembered David's own rebellion against his father-in-law Saul.

On the eve of the crucial battle, David was a nervous wreck. The old King no doubt feared losing his throne, but more than that he feared losing Absalom.  The boy had been a thorn in the old man's flesh, but he had apparently been David's favorite all along. Again and again, David told his generals that he wanted the boy taken alive

"Go easy on him for my sake." The father pleaded. "Promise me you'll spare him if he falls into your hands." They all promised.

The outcome of the battle was never really in doubt. Absalom's troop of citizen-soldiers met with the seasoned veterans and hardened mercenaries of David's army and they crumpled. Fleeing the battlefield on his mule, Absalom rode under an oak tree and found himself caught in the low-hanging branches by his beautiful hair. There on that tree the King's son hung, suspended “between heaven and earth", as Scripture puts it.

A common soldier saw him hanging there and reported it to Joab.

"Did you kill him?" asked Joab.

"Hey, not me. You want him dead, you kill him." The soldier replied.

The tough old general no doubt recalled his promise to spare the rebellious prince. But then, did he remember his hay field? Or did he think of all the pain and trouble and death that this spoiled princeling had brought upon his country over the years? Did Joab imagine all of the havoc that Absalom would yet be capable of wreaking in the future, if soft-hearted David forgave the rebellious prince once again?

Was it revenge? Or duty?  Or a little of both? In any case, without hesitating or blinking an eye, Joab put three javelins through Absalom's chest. Then he had his armor bearers finish the job-- probably to spread the blame around.

Joab was a cold-blooded pragmatist. He broke his word to his friend and betrayed the will of his king. His motives were at best, mixed. Yet, like all good soldiers, he clearly acted in what he deemed to be his country's best interest.

This is a story with morals and lessons and heroes and villains on all sorts of levels. We can all identify with, and at the same time condemn the behavior of all of the protagonists. David was certainly neglectful of his duties as father and as King. In his blindness and muddleheaded-ness, he ended up pardoning those who were disloyal to him and punishing those who were loyal. 

Yet we weep with him in his moment of ultimate tragedy when he loses his child.  Like David, we all know what  it is to have had hearts broken at the futility of our plans. We've all known the pain that circumstance and our own tragic mistakes have brought us. 

Like Joab, we’ve all let bitterness and unresolved grievances from the past poison the present. And we've all from time to time, made choices that would have devastating effects on the lives of others-- sometimes out of the highest motives-- but not always.

And like the King's spoiled son Absalom, we've all found ourselves through our own unwise actions, our inappropriate pride, our errors in judgment, or just plain old bad luck, hanging suspended between heaven and earth. We all know what it means to be caught in the branches of our own sins and anger and over- reaching ambitions and unbridled emotions.

Absalom was a rebellious child and traitor to his country. His primary motives in life seemed to have been pride, revenge and ambition. He's not unlike many of our own young people today who continue to get in trouble, get off, get in trouble, get off, until one day to his great surprise, the criminal justice system turns around and says,

"You aren't a kid anymore. This time you'll be prosecuted as an adult." Yet Abasalom none-the-less remains a romantic and dashing figure in his quest for power and recognition.

The only sensible person in this whole, sad story is that anonymous foot soldier with the brains to know that despite all of Joab's fine promises of reward, killing Absalom would leave him twisting and turning in the wind just as surely as the Prince had been.

This isn't a very pretty story. But it's illuminating. This story isn’t necessarily included in the Bible solely to teach us a lesson in history and royal politics. Rather, I think the story of Absalom is included in the Bible in order for you and I to see ourselves.

David and Absalom and Joab and just about everybody else were all fools and villains and heroes at different times in this story. Just as you and I are fools and villains and heroes, at different times in the stories of our lives. 

We can all be poor parents, disrespectful children, vengeance seekers, rebels, slayers of the helpless, carriers of grudges, betrayers of friends, exploiters of one another, and sly underlings who cover our own tails. We all get angry and wrathful and neglectful and impatient and impetuous. We can all be, on the other hand, dashing and handsome and loyal and patriotic and dutiful.

Any time when parents and children and old friends quarrel is sad. When they are Kings and Princes and Generals, quarrels escalate into wars and the situation becomes a national tragedy. But regardless of their social standing, whenever squabbling family members and feuding former friends claim to be people of faith, it must grieve the Creator greatly.

Because this story of tragedy is at bottom the story of a family-- dysfunctional and broken, but a family none-the-less.  The truth is though, that in any family-- even the best of families--  there’s always regret, or disappointment, or sometimes even tragedy.   Things don’t always necessarily work out for the best.   Children disappoint their parents.  Parents fail their children.  The kids squabble over the estate after mom and dad are gone.

Truth be told, lots of peoples’ lives are in a mess.  We can’t quite get it together,  Our families don’t always live up to that Ozzie and Harriet,  David and Ricky ideal.  Shucks, sometimes we can’t even live up to that Roseanne and Dan and Becky and Darlene ideal.   Homer and Marge and Lisa and Bart are more our speed/

It doesn’t always work out for us.  We’re not perfect-- none of us. And neither are our families.  Like our personal lives, our family lives are suspended between Heaven and earth as well. And if you and I find ourselves at times hurt in our own family life,  what must it be like for God-- hurting for the faults and foibles of the whole human family?

Maybe that’s why this story is in the Bible-- to remind us that unhappiness and regret, ambition and failure, tragedy and victory, joy and anger and jealousy-- forgiveness and compromise and accomplishment  all are part of loving and living together as a family.   It was true at King David’s palace. It’s true at Buckingham Palace.  It’s true at the White House. It’s true at your house, and it’s true at mine.  

The story of David’s whole reign is drenched in tragedy. It is marked by intrigue, murder, theft, abuse, and no small lust for power on the part of many people. All these things end up being manifested in David’s family circle. And all of that tragedy and grief can ultimately be traced to David’s own abuse of power. The story perfectly illustrates the intricate interweaving of sinful acts and their consequences—even a generation later.

The story is also a tragic reminder of the way our sins and wrongdoings can pervade the most intimate connections of life, destroying everything before them and bringing to us a despair that is like death itself:

 ‘The king was deeply moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went, he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would that I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

The story of King David and his rebellious son Absalom is a story of humanity in the full scope of its broken-ness. It’s a story of deceit and anger and vengeance. It’s is a story of grief and pain and harsh justice. But for you and for me, there is also a symbol of wonder and hope for broken humanity in this story. 

The wonder, and the hope of it all is that all the broken and flawed people in this story are portrayed as the people of God, who continues to work with, and through them to build God’s coming Reign. The depth of tragedy on the human plane is surpassed only by the irony and wonder of God’s overwhelming grace at work in the world.

We can readily imagine Absalom, the son of David, hanging between heaven and earth in the branches of that oak tree.  We might feel pity. We might even be able to say, "he got what was coming to him."

But I for one, cannot help remembering another son of David-- a far, far better man than Absalom-- who would never-the-less also hang from a tree, centuries later. This other son of David would hang, not out of pride or ambition or anger or vengeance-- but out of love. Not to raise himself up to a throne-- but to raise humanity up from its own broken and imperfect nature.

  David’s cry of grief and pain has echoed down the centuries.

"O Absalom, Absalom my son. Would that I had died instead of you. O Absalom, Absalom my son."

David no doubt meant every word of it. If he could have hung up there, dangling between heaven and earth in place of his beloved child, he would have. If he could have taken that shame and pain on himself, in order to make things right between them, he would have. If he could have paid the price of that boy's betrayal of him, he would have.  If he could have done his beloved child's dying for him, he would have.  If he could have given his life to bring his son alive for him, he would have.

But even a King-- no matter how great-- cannot do things like that. As later history was to prove, it takes a God to do something like that. Let us give thanks that we have a God like that.                                                                       Amen.