Scripture Daily

Context No. 877 of 4322 · 2 Samuel

Context · Reflection

2 Samuel 19:31-37: in context

31Barzillai the Gileadite came down from Rogelim; and he went over the Jordan with the king to conduct him over the Jordan. 32Now Barzillai was a very aged man, even eighty years old. He had provided the king with sustenance while he stayed at Mahanaim, for he was a very great man. 33The king said to Barzillai, “Come over with me, and I will sustain you with me in Jerusalem.” 34Barzillai said to the king, “How many are the days of the years of my life, that I should go up with the king to Jerusalem? 35I am eighty years old, today. Can I discern between good and bad? Can your servant taste what I eat or what I drink? Can I hear the voice of singing men and singing women any more? Why then should your servant be a burden to my lord the king? 36Your servant will just go over the Jordan with the king. Why should the king repay me with such a reward? 37Please let your servant turn back again, that I may die in my own city, by the grave of my father and my mother. But behold, your servant Chimham; let him go over with my lord the king; and do to him what shall seem good to you.”

David is returning to Jerusalem after Absalom's revolt collapses. Barzillai, a wealthy old man of eighty who had supplied David with food during his exile at Mahanaim, comes down to escort him across the Jordan. David invites him to come live at court in Jerusalem and be provided for. Barzillai gently declines: he is too old to taste his food or hear the singers; why be a burden. Let him die in his own town near his parents' graves; send his servant Chimham instead.

This is one of the quiet, human moments in the middle of high drama, and it is oddly moving. Barzillai was generous when it cost him something, feeding a fugitive king with no guarantee David would ever come back to reward him. Now that the reward is offered, freely and at the king's own table, he turns it down. He knows himself. At eighty he can no longer enjoy what the court offers, and he would rather finish his days at home among his own than be honored somewhere he does not belong. There is a wisdom in refusing a good thing that has come too late, in preferring to die where your roots are over being a decorated guest. He asks nothing for himself and passes the honor to a younger man.

Would I know how to turn down an honor that no longer fits me, or do I grasp at recognition even when its season has passed?

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