Scripture Daily

Context No. 1246 of 4322 · 2 Samuel

Context · Reflection

2 Samuel 12:19-23: in context

19But when David saw that his servants were whispering together, David perceived that the child was dead; and David said to his servants, “Is the child dead?” They said, “He is dead.” 20Then David arose from the earth, and washed and anointed himself, and changed his clothing; and he came into the LORD’s house, and worshiped. Then he came to his own house; and when he requested, they set bread before him and he ate. 21Then his servants said to him, “What is this that you have done? You fasted and wept for the child while he was alive, but when the child was dead, you rose up and ate bread.” 22He said, “While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept; for I said, ‘Who knows whether the LORD will not be gracious to me, that the child may live?’ 23But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.”

The child born to David and Bathsheba has fallen deathly ill, and David has spent days on the ground, fasting and weeping and pleading with God for the child's life. When the baby dies, his servants are afraid to tell him, fearing he will collapse. But David surprises them: he gets up, washes, changes his clothes, goes to worship in the house of the LORD, and then eats. His servants ask why he mourned while the child lived but rose and ate once it died. David explains: while the child lived, I fasted and wept, for who knows whether the LORD might be gracious and let the child live. But now he is dead. Why should I fast? I cannot bring him back. I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.

David's response holds together two things that are hard to hold together: fervent prayer and quiet acceptance. While there was any hope, he prayed with everything he had, fasting, weeping, lying on the ground, refusing to give up as long as the outcome was uncertain, because who knows whether the LORD will be gracious. He did not resign himself in advance; he pleaded. But when the answer came, and it was no, he did not rage or collapse; he rose, worshiped, and ate, accepting what God had decided. He knew the difference between the time for pleading and the time for acceptance, and he moved from one to the other without bitterness. And notice where he lands: I shall go to him, but he will not return to me. This is a quiet, striking flicker of hope beyond death. David does not say the child is simply gone; he says he will go to the child one day, that death is a going-to, not only a losing. In his grief he reaches toward a reunion, a confidence that the child is somewhere he will one day be. He prayed hard while there was hope, accepted God's no when it came, and looked past death to a going-to. It is a model of faith in loss.

Can I hold both David's postures, praying with everything while there is hope and accepting God's answer with worship when it comes, and do I share his flicker of hope that in death I go to the ones I have lost?

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