Entering the Presence of the Lord

He has come to the Lord with the intention of building a Temple for God. God tells him no, but God will build a house for David. God makes promises about David's descendants, both dealing with Solomon, who would build the Temple, and eventually Christ, who will, God explains, come from the House of David.

I must confess that I could not at first connect with this passage. The promises of the Lord impressed me, and David's response seems appropriately "pious and devout," and yet it was disconnected for me. I passed the chapter by as I was reading through this section without taking much note of what was there. Yes, yes, here is a prophesy of Christ, and a prophesy for Solomon, but that was all it was to me. Perhaps I was overly imbued with our modern approaches to God that I could not really see the majesty here. Perhaps the matters of kings were too great for a simple man like me. Perhaps the spiritual nature of the event left me groundless.

Whatever the cause, I read on, thinking little of the chapter. But an event a couple of chapters later made me turn back to this chapter and reevaluate it. Turn with me a page or two to the right to 2 Samuel 9. It is here that we find the story of Mephibosheth. Read with me:

Then David said, "Is there yet 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." The king said, "Is there not yet anyone of the house of Saul to whom I may show the kindness of God?" And Ziba said to the king, "There is still a son of Jonathan who is crippled in both feet."

Let's skip to verse 6:

Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan the son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and prostrated himself. And David said, "Mephibosheth." And he said, "Here is your servant!" David said to him, "Do not fear, for I will surely show kindness to you for the sake of your father Jonathan, and will restore to you all the land of your grandfather Saul; and you shall eat at my table regularly." Again he prostrated himself and said, "What is your servant, that you should regard a dead dog like me?" Then the king called Saul's servant Ziba and said to him, "All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to your master's grandson. You and your sons and your servants shall cultivate the land for him, and you shall bring in the produce so that your master's grandson may have food; nevertheless Mephibosheth your master's grandson shall eat at my table regularly."

Now, what is going on here? Let's back up a little bit, because it is vitally important to get the context here. Saul was the king before David, but Saul turned away from the Lord, and so God declared David to be king. Saul, through a series of events, brought war against David, and in war, Saul was defeated and David took the throne. But Saul had a son named Jonathan, who had been a great friend to David. Jonathan was earnestly trying to foster a peace between Saul and David and to cool his father's temper. Jonathan was extremely faithful and helpful to David. But Jonathan died in the same battle with his father.

Now, in ancient times, when a conqueror took power from another, it was quite common for that conqueror to kill all the family members of the dethroned king, just to make sure no relatives would show up later to claim the right to rule. So this was typically the way of things. A new king would come, and he would say, "Hey, are there any relatives left of the old king?" Those relatives would be brought in, and they would be killed.

Certainly this is exactly what Mephibosheth thought was going to happen. It doesn't say so directly, but David has to tell the man not to fear. Obviously, Mephibosheth was demonstrating his nervousness. He comes in and tries to score as many points as he can. He falls on his face, symbolically accepting the rule of David. He is trying to reassure the king that he is not a threat by prostrating himself before David. But still David has to tell him, "Don't be afraid; I'm not going to hurt you."

And then David does something very strange. We are not really expecting David to kill Mephibosheth, but neither are we expecting what happens. David gives Mephibosheth great wealth and power because of what Jonathan had done. For the sake of Jonathan, David makes sure that Mephibosheth and his family will live like royalty.

Certainly Mephibosheth did not deserve this. God has given the throne to David, and so the best Mephibosheth can hope for it just to live. That is all he deserves, if even that. But he has been given so much more.

Now what is Mephibosheth's response? Listen to his words: "What is your servant, that you should regard a dead dog like me?" We can very easily paraphrase his question like this: "Who am I? Who am I that you have brought me this far?"

The passages mimic each other, and intentionally so. If you did not understand the relationship between God and David in chapter 7, then we are given a metaphor in chapter 9 of the relationship in the relationship between David and Mephibosheth. If you, as I did, went through chapter 7 wondering what all the fuss is about, perhaps wondering at the pious tone David is taking with his Father, then we are given chapter 9 to crystallize the conversation.

The proper attitude we are to take with a King may be lost on modern Americans. There is no current analogy we can draw. Imagine, if you will, being called in by the President. You were perhaps a high-ranking official in one Presidential hopeful's campaign, but your guy lost, and the new President, your boss's opponent, has called you to the White House. You are expecting to be told that an audit by the IRS is coming, or that some terrible secret is being leaked to the media. Instead, you are offered a good job in the administration.

The analogy does not even come close to explaining what Mephibosheth felt going into that throne room, but it may be the best we can do. After all, Presidential elections are not won on the battlefield. The President is not at all like a King, who is in office for life and has quite a bit more power than a President. David was a great general, a poet and musician, a monarch, and God's personally chosen ruler. A man after God's own heart, remember. He has taken power, and the strength of God has been his means. He was nothing like a modern President. He is worthy of so much more respect and honor than any modern President that my analogy crumbles before us. But imagine then, if we would grow so nervous and wide-eyed when coming before a President, how would we act before a man to whom even Presidents should bow?

When we approach God, we are as a "dead dog" who comes before a powerful king. We are lowly and undeserving. We should come with the understanding that death is what we deserve, and merely keeping our lives is merciful beyond measure. We are as Mephibosheth coming before David, falling upon his face and hoping for the best.

And when God approaches us, it is as David came to Mephibosheth, with mercy and provision. It is not death that David brought, and not even merely life, but the blessings of a king.

And it was not by merit that Mephibosheth earned this mercy and blessing, but on the merit of his father, Jonathan. In the same way, if we are forgiven when we are bowed before the throne of God, it is not by our own merit, for "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). No, by our own merit we have earned nothing but death. By our very associations we have earned it, for in sin we are aligned with the enemy, Satan, just as Mephibosheth is associated with David's enemy, Saul, by birth. We cannot approach that throne and live by our own machinations, my friends, for it is from that throne that the justice of the land is dispensed. All men will bow before it, and all will be judged by their own actions. Do you see how closely God's nature is like a king's? A king rules by his throne, dispensing judgment. When we come unto the throne of the King of kings, it is also judgment that we face.

But thanks be to God, we will not be judged by our own actions, but by those of another. Like Mephibosheth was judged by the actions of Jonathan, so believers will be judged by the actions of Christ.

Who am I, O, my Lord? Who am I that you have brought me this far? Surely I have deserved the same fate as my old master, Satan, and yet I have claim to such grace and mercy that I am saved from death and given a new life, the likes of which I have never before understood. God has not only forgiven, but He has also welcomed me into His house. Like Mephibosheth, I am now welcomed at the table of the King. He has adopted me as a son, and bid me call Him Abba, Father.

Let us return, once more, to the story. What is the only thing David could have done in this story to honor Mephibosheth more? Only if David himself would have gone to Mephibosheth's home personally would more honor be given to Mephibosheth. Imagine, if you will, if Mephibosheth had been a little more afraid. Say that when David's messengers came for him, he refused and stayed put. Perhaps David would have been angry, but let us assume that he was very intent on showing the kindness of God here. Say he sent another messenger, who was also refused. Finally, let us presume that David himself went, and in Mephibosheth's own house he bestowed those blessings of a King.

I do not speculate idly. David did not do these things, but God did. He sent messengers to us in the form of judges, kings, and prophets, and they were turned away again and again. Finally, God the Son came down to our home, stepped into our houses and asked to eat with us. God did not wait for us to reach His throne room before granting His mercy, for we were too ashamed and afraid to go. Like Adam and Eve in the Garden, we shun His presence and try to hide. So instead He came to us and invited us back with Him.

My friends, this is the Gospel story found in David's own court. In faith we have become friends of God, children of God, but it was not always so, and for many who are listening to my voice, it is not so now. For some time we sat stubbornly behind locked doors, ignoring the patient knocking of the Lord upon the door. O, it is a patient knock, but an important one, for this house of mine will not always stand. One day it will fall, and if I am left alone inside, I will find nothing but death. But if I unlock the door and accept the invitation of Christ to return to the Father, then I will dine in a house that will never fall, and within I will never die.

It is not an easy thing to do. It was not easy for Mephibosheth, knowing that by birth he was allied with David's great enemy, to come to David and fall upon his face, accepting whatever fate the king would decree. So it is with us. We are born and raised in sin, and have embraced it since birth. We are tainted by our own actions, deserving death and nothing less. We have built our homes upon the shaking bedrock of sin and death, and by that bedrock it will fall. We are so self-absorbed and prideful that we think there is nothing beyond our walls that warrants attention. We will open the door to others only for our own selfish desires: for women, inappropriate entertainment, gluttony, vanity, and greed. We hang these trophies upon our dingy walls, all the while pretending that this house is built on solid ground.

And yet we know, do we not? There are times, in our loneliness and emptiness, that we see how dirty we have made everything. And yet we know nothing outside our own walls, and so we do not understand what cleanliness really is.

The king calls for you, my friends. Christ tells us, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me" (Revelation 3:20).

What an image that is, of Christ at our very door, and all the more wonderful when we realize the fullness of God's majesty. It is little wonder when a carpenter comes to your door, or when a carpenter washes your feet. But how inspiring and remarkable when does a king. Feel honored, and feel humbled, dear friends, for the King of kings has come from His throne to knock on your door. But do not refuse Him; open the doors wide and invite Him in. It is only in this act that you will be freed from your existence in death and return to His glorious palace in life.

God has given for us to call him Father, but let us not be too hasty. The King — more so, the King of kings — is at our doors, knocking. He will make you an heir, but first He will ask that you leave and come with Him. In turning away from that shaking and doomed home that we had built for ourselves, in admitting that we are unworthy, and in falling at His feet, it is in these things that we become His children.

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