Feast, Ye Lame for Joy Pt. I
Feast, Ye Lame for Joy • Sermon • Submitted
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Introduction
Introduction
God is a social God. Even in eternity past, there was fellowship and communion; giving of the self in the loving of another. Before the foundation of the world, the Creator God enjoyed perfect communion within the Trinity; the Father, Son, and Spirit all loving each other perfectly with no deficit or harm. God, by definition, does not need. He is perfect in power; perfect in wisdom; and perfect in love. He is holy, and the love that permeates the three persons of Almighty God is holy.
Because God has no want or need, his giving is always perfect and loving. We’ve all heard John 3:16, and rightfully so -- it is a beautiful verse.
Jn 3:16
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
This is the Gospel, and it’s why we’re gathered here today. We share this Lord’s Day together, ultimately, because God gave out of love. And God gave that love perfectly, needing nothing; purely by grace alone.
We know this New Testament verse well. I can say for myself that most of the verses I have memorized or am familiar with come from the New Testament. Speaking for my generation, it’s less-than-common to see a familiarity with and love for the Old Testament. In fact, there are movements in the Evangelical world to “unhitch” the Old Testament. Or, there are newfound ways to “understand” the Old Testament; and, by “understand,” we discover its real intention is to explain away or undermine it entirely.
The reality is that the Old Testament is, in every respect, as inspired, as edifying, and as royal as the New. God has said that:
Isaiah 55:10-11
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
Jesus expressed this when he said:
Mt 5:17
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.
The apostles taught that
2 Tim 3:16-17
All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,
that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.
Christ’s Bible, and the apostle’s, during their time on Earth was the Old Testament. Jesus wielded this sword regularly during his ministry. Jesus encouraged his followers with its Gospel -- a Gospel that pointed to him.
The Old Testament text we’re looking at today points to Jesus in a way that has moved me deeply. In fact, the whole story of David has quickly become one of my favorite OT accounts. God was gracious, and so wise, in using, recording, and sharing David’s life with the church. This story is about grace for a cripple -- the Gospel is contained in that concept alone. But I think we’ll see there is an even more glorious truth to receive. A truth that predates all of creation: of God’s eternal kindness and love.
Text
Text
And 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.
TRANSITION
TRANSITION
The whole life of David is a staggering story. We are impacted by staggering stories, partly because of the sheer fact that they happened. There’s a Wikipedia page dedicated to listing all of the Medals of Honor that have been awarded in US military history. Beginning with the Civil War 160 years ago, and proceeding up until our current conflicts, there is a list of the men, and woman, who’ve received the highest award a soldier can earn. Included, also, are short narratives of what that individual did to earn the medal. Each story is staggering in its own way; in how selfless and sacrificial those people were.
The story of M is an interlude in David’s life that, at first glance, isn’t staggering. We may fly by it when reading first and second Samuel. It’s certainly what I did until I heard RC Sproul speak on the life of David. Sproul has a series on King David, and generally moves at a quick pace through it. However, for this story, he slowed down and spent a whole segment on it. This faithfulness of David to Jonathan, a duty of love, moved him. I felt as if 2 Samuel was an adventure through a forest, and he was showing me a slightly-concealed meadow I had rushed past. And contained in this meadow of a story are great expressions of covenant-faithfulness, love, and grace.
We’re going to consider this interlude together from four angles:
The state of the cripple,
the covenant for the cripple,
the call of the cripple,
and the response of the cripple.
I: The STATE of the Cripple
I: The STATE of the Cripple
First, the state of the cripple, that is, who M is, where he came from, and his condition at the time of David’s call. To put this plainly, he was the crippled grandson of the failed king Saul. He was the son of Jonathan, who died with his father, Saul, in battle against the Philistines. Jonathan and his brothers were cut down by the sword, and Saul committed suicide when defeat became certain. We read of the origin of M’s injury in 2 Sam 4:4
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.
This meant that, for the rest of his life, M would be entirely dependent on the kindness of others. He became fully subject to the Providence of God. Is that not the immediate reality we find ourselves subject to, as well? My daily commute to work is from about the Cypress bridge in Redding to next to the Peacock Chinese Restaurant in Anderson. The nature of my work has me on the road regularly, between a region I call the “Two Lakes,” being Lake Boulevard and Lake California. So, lots of miles on the road -- both city and highway. There are times I get skittish at the idea that, according to what can be seen, the only thing protecting anyone on the road is a line of paint.
But, invisibly, the only thing preserving us is the decree of God.
The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.
I form light and create darkness; I make well-being and create calamity; I am the Lord, who does all these things.
The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.
God alone possesses all creative and decisive power. It’s the pleasure of God that keeps me safe in my car on the way to work, and it’s the pleasure of God that kept M safe in his time. As we will see, God was pleased to pour even more blessing and provision on M.
According to the providence of God, M was injured at five years old. We struggle with this. M had no control over what happened to him -- it just did. In fact, what happened to him was, in part, the fault of his caretaker. Remember, 2 Sam 4:4 says that the nurse, in her haste, fled and somehow dropped him. It wasn’t any person’s express intention, rather the consequence of haste and urgency. There are severe injuries, lifelong disabilities, and other afflictions that are part of living in this fallen world.
If we stop there, and do not possess the heavenly perspective that Scripture offers us, we are guaranteed to despair. In this room are people who have been afflicted by pain and disability, and by no fault of their own. In the providence of God, and only by the providence of God, these thorns are for us to carry. Our weak bodies and fragile spirits must quickly hold fast to this truth: this thorn we carry is held firmly in the vice grip of God’s decree. It can do no more to you than God permits. It can worsen, maintain, or vanish entirely only by the command of Almighty God. A purposeless, random, and indifferent affliction is infinitely worse than one controlled by our Heavenly Father. And not only this, but it is an affliction that “is being worked for good, according to the counsel of God.”
As M will see, the helplessness that sowed grief in his life would, soon, be the helplessness that gave joy and peace. For the condition of his life was wrapped into something bigger than he could see, or even knew about. Therefore, we will now look at the covenant for the cripple.
II: The COVENANT for the Cripple
II: The COVENANT for the Cripple
Before M was born, a promise was made. Two promises, in fact. The first was between David and Saul. The Israelites, at the beginning of 1 Samuel, were asking for God to give them a king. We read:
Then all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah
and said to him, “Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations.”
This was bitter news to Samuel, who knew his history, and knew that Israel was, once again, rejecting God and prioritizing conformity to the world over obedience to God. God gave them what they wanted, and anointed Saul as king. After a troublesome and rocky start to his rule, Saul continued to make foolish and rash decisions. His disobedience was enough that God anointed a shepherd boy from … a little town called Bethlehem. In this little town you may have heard of, there was a patriarch named Jesse, and one of his sons was to be anointed king over Israel -- replacing Saul. This young man was David.
A very well known story, David eventually becomes king, but not without a bitter struggle with Saul. Saul descends into madness and persecutes David, because it becomes clear God has favored and anointed him as his replacement. There are two moments, however, that disrupt what was normally a violent manhunt. David, on two occasions, has the ability to strike Saul dead - but he doesn’t. Instead, he stealthily cuts a part of Saul’s garment without his knowing, and retreats. David then confronts Saul from a distance, saying: “My lord the king!” David respects Saul, even in this moment, and says he would not put his hand against the Lord’s anointed. Saul, in a moment of God-given sanity, realizes the deep irony of the situation.
He said to David, “You are more righteous than I, for you have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil.
He realizes he’s fighting a lost battle, and makes the following request:
And now, behold, I know that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand.
Swear to me therefore by the Lord that you will not cut off my offspring after me, and that you will not destroy my name out of my father’s house.”
And David swore this to Saul. Then Saul went home, but David and his men went up to the stronghold.
Here is the first of two promises, two covenants, that will lift M out of hiding and place him at the highest seat in the world.
The second promise was not made between David and Saul, but between David and his closest friend -- Saul’s son, Jonathan. The love between David and Jonathan is something that moves me every time I consider it. Before all of the chaos that erupted out of Saul, David was a welcome musician and member of Saul’s household. You all know the story of how he slew Goliath--that was the beginning of his time serving Saul, and a season where David first loved Saul. But his greatest love was not for Saul, but for Jonathan. 1 Sam 18:1 tells us that Jonathan “was knit to the soul of David.”
You could not use stronger language to express this friendship. Yesterday, at the memorial for Dan’s father, a childhood friend shared about his experiences growing up with Daniel Lloyd. Their shared experiences and time working the land hard grew a bond between them. This lifelong friend of Daniel Lloyd communicated a deep closeness between them. I only know what little was shared yesterday, but it reminded me of this bond between David and Jonathan. Their very souls were knit together.
As Saul’s madness increases, and it becomes clear that David is the target of his jealous wrath, Jonathan makes this request of David:
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.”
And Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, “May the Lord take vengeance on David’s enemies.”
And Jonathan made David swear again by his love for him, for he loved him as he loved his own soul.
Here is the promise that would lead to the restoration of the crippled M. Here is the covenant that David actually refers to publicly. Remember, David said: “Who is left of the house of Saul… so that I might show him kindness for the sake of Jonathan?”
Friends, the word kindness is the same word used throughout the Bible for covenant-keeping faithfulness. The King James translates it as “mercy,” the NAS as “lovingkindness,” and the Faithlife Study Bible as “loyal love.” It is the love that fuels, binds, and proceeds from a promise. It is the same kind of love that God has for the believer, to whom a covenant has been made. God shows us faithfulness in the new covenant, which was ratified at the Last Supper. We hear these words once a month, at Communion:
In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”
It was a covenant of love that called M to blessedness at David’s table; likewise, it was the New Covenant in Christ’s blood that brought us out of darkness, and to the Lord’s Table.
We will now examine the call of the cripple, and what it means for us -- the cripples of our day.
III: The CALL of the Cripple
III: The CALL of the Cripple
The town that M was staying at when David called him was the town of Lo-debar. The name of the town essentially means “no-place.” Doug Wilson, in his sermon on this text, said that, for us, it would mean “Nowhere-ville” or “Nothing-burg.” It was a place far from Jerusalem, to the north. David, when remembering his covenant with Jonathan, asks of his servants: “Is there anyone left of Saul’s descendents?” The question itself reveals how utterly destroyed Saul’s house had been. David, in part, is lamenting the fact he has to ask the question in the first place. He’s yearning to show covenant-kindness to someone.
We always have to be discerning and careful when applying OT foreshadowing and imagery to other things, especially the character of God. While this story is a picture of eternal truth, it is not a facsimile of eternal truth. In his creatureliness, David does not know who to show his deep, covenantal love to. He can’t see them, and they seem unlikely to exist. God, who is truth and knows truth exhaustively, set his covenantal love upon all those who would believe in eternity-past. But the great drama with which David announces to his court, “Is there anyone left?!” gives us an insight to God’s great initiative in saving sinners.
David sought to show loving kindness when it occurred to him and he was ready:
but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
David had to rely on the insider knowledge of his court attendants to locate a recipient of his love, but God set his love upon us:
even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love
As M was helpless to acquire for himself anything near the King’s table, so are we helpless to sit at the Lord’s table. It is the call of the king that brings us near. It is the outstretched hand of the Lord that lifts us out of darkness and brings us, by the blood of Jesus, before his throne with great joy. As M called himself a dead dog, so do we acknowledge the spiritual death that dogged us without Christ.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us,
even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—
The gracious call of the king brings us from Lo-debar, the nothing place, to the royal table. It is the great providence of God that provides us with Ziba’s to make known David’s kindness to us, and servants of the king to ensure the journey. Do you see? Do you see the great hand of the Lord in directing not just David’s steps, but M’s? This cripple, rejected by society by virtue of his disability, is brought to the king by a series of means.
What means are present in your life? How has God called you to his table, today and every day? Join me in trying to be conscious of every grace; of every beautiful providence that inches us closer to heaven. Yes, this does look like retroactively appreciating how God has moved in your life, but it also looks like trembling and trusting along the way. Do we suppose that all was well and tranquil in M’s mind, as he journeyed to Jerusalem? I’d say not: the great King David, whose renown was so great, even the Philistines sang:
“Saul slew his thousands,
And David his ten thousands”;
The David who warred against your grandfather in a bitter war of great loss and tragedy; whose relationship with your father you only know of by distant memory and second-hand accounts, is now calling you to his court? Would your first reaction be joy and hope? Why would the king be summoning me across so great a distance, through such tribulation, to see him? What M had to be grappling with was the thought that death was at the end of his trip. Retribution to sooth over what Saul had ruined, or a new vengeance in a mad king -- which was, and is, typical for royalty.
M couldn’t fathom what awaited him at the end of the journey from Lo-debar to Jerusalem. So we, believers in this New Covenant era, cannot entirely fathom what lies ahead of us. We have no control over even the next second that transpires. All affliction, tribulation, and distress serve mainly to destabilize our peace and, God forbid, doubt God’s promises. I beg of God, this day, that he would renew our understanding of his covenantal love towards us. Lord, instill in us a firm grasp, not on man’s striving or ingenuity, but on your indestructible, unmovable promises for us.
Your promise for us, a people for your own possession, whom you called out of darkness, out of Lodebar, is that you will be a father to us, and we as sons and daughters to you.
My friends, we’ve looked at the state of the cripple, and seen the condition that we all inhabit prior to grace. We’ve looked at the covenant for the cripple, which is the impenetrable covenant of God, that saved in David’s time and in ours. We’ve just thought about the call of the cripple, where, like M, we are called from a far off place, according to the merciful command of the King, to a royal court. The fourth and final angle to look from is the response of the cripple.
IV: The RESPONSE of the Cripple
IV: The RESPONSE of the Cripple
The moment M enters David’s court, he falls on his face and pays homage. Other translations say that he “gives obeisance.” This is a show of great respect and humility. I’d wager the face-falling instinct was the primary one, having to also then remember to formally give homage. What a mixture of emotion M must have been that day. As if to make matters worse, our text tells us that David then says his name -- and it’s translated with an exclamation mark. David yells his name.
Imagine: with your face in the stone ground, nerves on fire and all the blood racing through your veins, you cringe at the shouting of your name by the king. All you can bleat out is: “Behold, I am your servant.” The jig is up. “I am the only heir of Saul left,” you think to yourself, “and the king is seeking to blot out all competitors. I never wanted to be here. I never asked for my condition, and have suffered well enough in light of it! What a wretched end for a wretch like me. Is there any escape -- is there any way out?!”
Then you hear your name again, “Mephibosheth?” A questioning softness, not because he’s confused; he’s now eagerly and tenderly confirming. “Mephibosheth.” You raise your head and see the King of Israel with outstretched hand, saying, “Do not fear.” The floor drops out beneath you and you are suspended in time and space as the mighty king says, “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.”
All of us are lost, crippled, and in darkness apart from the Savior. We come from a long line of rebels. We have family trees that have been cut for timber because of unbelief. Our conscience accuses us that we have grievously sinned against all the commandments of God, and have kept none of them. Even if we had a desire to follow God, we had not feet to do so. Before the King’s call, we were unclean, far off, cripples. And if you still have not heeded the call of Christ, you, too, are still far off. But M speaks to you now, a testimony to grace, who is saying: “Go! Heed the king’s call! Tho the journey from Lo-debar to Jerusalem is a journey of grief and doubt, the great wings of mercy and pardon will see you there!”
When M sat at that table, he feasted for joy in the presence of his Redeemer. He rejoiced at his high station, where his feet are hidden. He is as a son of the king, now, and will ever be so. In those days, he saw salvation at the hand of David, and, after M had multiple children, David saw his covenant fulfilled.
Closing
Closing
In closing, I’d like to make one more comment. When examining the covenant for the cripple, I mentioned two promises that formed the basis for David’s kindness to M. These two covenants of love were the occasion for David to seek out a descendant; someone, anybody to show kindness to in honoring the beloved. There are, actually, three covenants -- not two. The third is a covenant not made between man; not made, even, between God and man; but between the very Trinity of God.
The Bible teaches that, in eternity-past, the Father, Son, and Spirit; three persons of the one, living God; engaged in a promise to redeem a people for himself. This is the glorious, tremendous, holy-fear-inducing eternal covenant of redemption. The night before Jesus was to walk the way of suffering, when the fullness of time had been achieved, he told his disciples that he had overcome the world. But what happened next will ring in eternity, like the covenant of redemption.
When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you,
since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.
And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.
I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do.
And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.
There are eight promises that the Father made to Son: that God would form a purified Church for His Son; that the Son would receive the Spirit without measure; that He would be ever-present to support Him; that He would deliver Him from death and exalt Him to His right hand; that He would have the Holy Spirit to send to whom He willed; that all the Father gave to Him would come to Him and none of these be lost; that multitudes would partake of His redemption and His messianic kingdom; and that He would see the travail of His soul -- the anguish of his soul -- and be satisfied.
Do you see the greater truth of this text? Have your eyes been opened to what God was pleased to reveal in this small interlude?! The most stunning beauty of this text is that OUR salvation, OUR healing, OUR feasting, OUR eternal life, is not a simple gesture outwards of mercy for mercy’s sake: it is the salvation, purification, and presentation of a holy people, without blemish, to Jesus! “All that Father GIVES to me WILL come to me,” Jesus says in John 6, “For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but the will of him who sent me! And this is his will: that I should lose NOTHING of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”
The real beauty of this story is David’s love for Jonathan… Because it is the Father’s love for the Son that we, the cripple, receive a kingly call.