2 Samuel 14:1 - Meaning and Application

Here we see Joab’s plan to have Absalom brought back from exile, his crime forgiven, and his legal banishment ended (2 Samuel 14:1). Joab worked hard on this matter. He acted like a courtier eager to win the king’s favor and strengthen his own place with him. He saw that David’s heart still leaned toward Absalom. David’s anger had cooled, but he still loved his son and only needed help finding a way to bring him back without seeming to weaken justice.

Joab also acted as a friend to Absalom. Perhaps he had a special liking for him, or at least saw him as the rising power he should support. He likely realized that David would one day make peace with him. If Joab could help bring that about, he would gain both men as friends.

He was also acting like a statesman, someone concerned for the good of the whole nation. He knew Absalom was very popular with the people. If David died while Absalom was still banished, it could lead to civil war between those who supported him and those who opposed him. The people likely loved Absalom personally, even if they were divided over what should happen in his case.

There was also a darker reason. Joab himself had guilty blood on his hands because of the murder of Abner (2 Samuel 3:27). He knew he had wronged public justice. So any mercy he could help secure for Absalom would make his own position safer, too.

Joab brought this about by arranging for a fake but similar case to be placed before the king. The woman he used was so skillful that David thought it was a real case and gave judgment, just as he had done in Nathan’s parable. When the king’s ruling favored the supposed offender, Joab could then show that the same principle fit his own purpose. If David’s judgment had been harsh, she was likely instructed to stop before making the family connection.

The woman Joab chose is not named, but she is called a woman from Tekoa, a town south of Bethlehem. Joab knew she was suited for the task. It was wise to place the scene at a distance, so David would not find it strange that he had not heard of the matter before. She is also called a wise woman, meaning she had a quick mind and a ready tongue (2 Samuel 14:2). The truth would be less likely to be doubted if it seemed to come straight from her own mouth.

She was dressed in the role of a grieving widow (2 Samuel 14:2). Joab knew such a woman would have easy access to the king. David was always ready to comfort those who mourned, especially widows. Scripture even calls God “a judge of widows” (Psalm 68:5). Of course, God hears the cries of the afflicted more fully and more kindly than any earthly ruler can.

She presented a case that called for mercy, and there was no relief for her except from the king’s own hand. The law was against her, and so were the lower courts. She said she had buried her husband (2 Samuel 14:5). She had two sons who supported and comforted her in widowhood. These two young men quarreled and fought, and one killed the other (2 Samuel 14:6). She wished to protect the man who had killed his brother, much like Rebekah spoke about losing both her sons in one day (Genesis 27:45).

Even though she, as the closest relative of the dead man, was willing to give up the right of revenge, other relatives demanded that the surviving brother be killed by law. They did not seem concerned for justice or for the dead brother’s memory. Their real aim, she said openly, was to destroy the heir so that the inheritance would come to them. In that way, they would take away her comfort, quench her “coal,” the one thing that still brightened her old age. They would also wipe out her husband’s name and family line, leaving him no memory or descendants (2 Samuel 14:7).

The king promised her his favor and protection for her son. Notice how she used his merciful words to press further. When he heard her case, he said he would look into it and give orders about it (2 Samuel 14:8). That was encouraging, because he did not brush her away with a cold “Let the law take its course.” He was willing to check whether her story was true.

But she was not satisfied with that. She asked him to decide in her favor right away, and if her report turned out to be false, then she herself would bear the blame. She even asked that he and his throne be kept free from guilt (2 Samuel 14:9). Still, her offer could not fully excuse the king if he had given judgment without properly examining the case.

Pressed further, David promised that she would not be harmed or mocked by her enemies. He would protect her from trouble (2 Samuel 14:10). Rulers ought to stand up for oppressed widows.

Even that was not enough for her, unless her son was also pardoned and protected. Parents are not at peace unless their children are safe, safe for this life and the next. She pleaded, “Let the avenger of blood not destroy my son” (2 Samuel 14:11). She felt that losing him would destroy her, and that it would be as good to take her life as his. Then she asked the king to remember the Lord his God.

By this she meant two things. First, let him confirm this merciful decision with an oath in God’s name, so the matter would be firm and beyond dispute. Second, let him think about what kind of God the Lord is. God is gracious and merciful, patient with sinners, and ready to forgive. She also pointed to God’s mercy toward Cain, who killed his brother, and yet was protected from the avenger of blood (Genesis 4:15). And she was really urging David to remember how God had forgiven him for the blood of Uriah. The king who had received mercy should also show mercy.

Nothing is more proper, or more powerful, than remembering the Lord our God when we are called to do any duty, especially works of mercy and kindness.

This persistent widow, by pressing her case so closely, at last wins a full pardon for her son, confirmed with an oath, just as she asked. David says, “As the Lord lives, not one hair of your son will fall to the ground,” meaning, “I promise he will come to no harm because of this.” The Son of David has given the same assurance to all who trust themselves to his care. Even if they suffer death for his sake, not a hair of their head will perish (Luke 21:16-18). They may lose much for him, but they will not lose by him.

Whether David did right to promise protection to a murderer, whom the cities of refuge would not protect, I cannot say. But from what he saw, there was strong reason to feel compassion for the mother, and enough room to judge the son kindly. He had killed his brother, but not out of long hatred. It seems to have happened in a sudden outburst, and, from what appears here, it may have been in self-defense. He did not plead that for himself, but the judge must speak for the prisoner. So mercy should, for this moment, triumph over judgment.

Now that the case has been decided in her son’s favor, it is time to apply it to the king’s son, Absalom. The disguise begins to come off, and a new part of the exchange opens up. The king is surprised, but not at all upset, to find that his humble petitioner has suddenly become his rebuker, his adviser, and the one who speaks for the people. She asks his pardon and patience for what she still has to say (2 Samuel 14:12), and he allows her to continue, pleased with her wit and humor.

She assumes Absalom’s case is really the same as the one she has just described for her son. So if the king would protect her son, even though he killed his brother, then he should much more protect his own son and bring back his banished one (2 Samuel 14:13). Change only the name, and the story is about you. She does not name Absalom, and she does not need to. David longed for him so deeply and had him so much on his mind that he quickly understood whom she meant by “your banished one.” Those two words carried two strong appeals to his tender heart. “He is banished, and has already suffered the shame, fear, and trouble of exile for three years. That punishment is enough for such a one. But he is your banished one, your own son, a part of yourself, your dear son, whom you love.”

It is true that Absalom’s case was very different from the one she had described. Absalom did not kill his brother in a sudden passion, but out of hatred and a long-held grudge. He did not do it in a field, where there were no witnesses, but at the table, before all his guests. And Absalom was not an only son, as hers was. David had many sons, and one had recently been born who seemed more likely to be his successor than Absalom. That child was named Jedidiah, because God loved him. Still, David was already so moved in Absalom’s favor that he did not closely compare the two cases. He wanted to reach the kind judgment he had already given for her son, and he wanted it for his own son even more.

She then reasons with the king to persuade him to bring Absalom back from exile, forgive him, and welcome him again. First, she appeals to the people of Israel’s interest in him. What is done against him is, in effect, done against God’s people, who look to him as an heir to the crown. At the very least, they look to the house of David, with whom the covenant is made. So they cannot quietly watch that house weaken and lose so many of its sons while they are still young. She says the king speaks as if he is at fault when he promises that her husband’s name and memory will not be cut off, but then does nothing to save his own son, whose loss matters far more than ten thousand of theirs.

She also pleads the fact that all people die (2 Samuel 14:14). Death is set for us. We cannot avoid it, and we cannot push it off to another day. We are all under the necessity of dying, and once we are dead, we cannot be brought back, like water spilled on the ground. In a sense, even while we live, we have already lost our immortality and cannot recover it. Amnon would have died someday, even if Absalom had not killed him. And if Absalom is now put to death for killing him, that will not bring Amnon back to life. This is weak reasoning, and it would excuse almost any murderer. Still, Amnon seems to have been little valued by the people, and his death was not much mourned. So many likely felt it was harsh that Absalom’s dear life should be given for a man so little regarded.

She also appeals to God’s mercy and kindness toward guilty sinners. God does not immediately take away the life of those who sin. He does not strike sinners dead at once, as he justly could. Instead, he bears with them and waits to show grace. God had allowed Absalom to live, so why should David’s justice not do the same? She also points to God’s provision for restoring sinners to his favor. Though sin has banished them from him, he has not meant for them to be cast off forever. Sacrifices made atonement for sinners. Lepers and others who were ceremonially unclean were set apart for a time, but provision was made for their cleansing, so they were not shut out forever.

The condition of sinners is a kind of exile from God. Poor banished sinners would likely be expelled forever unless something were done to stop it. But that is not what God wants, for he is not willing that any should perish. His great wisdom has provided the right way to prevent it. So if sinners are cast off, it is their own fault. This example of God’s good will toward us should make us more merciful and compassionate toward one another (Matthew 18:32-33).

She ends her appeal with strong praise for the king and with confidence that he will do what is right and kind in both cases (2 Samuel 14:15-17). Even while speaking as if this were her own case, she is really still pleading for herself and her son, while meaning Absalom. She says she would not have troubled the king if the people had not made her afraid. Taking it as her own matter, her neighbors had filled her with fear that she and her son were about to be ruined by the avenger of blood, and that fear had driven her to appeal boldly to the king himself.

She understood Absalom’s case and told the king something he did not seem to realize before. The nation, she said, was so upset by his harsh treatment of Absalom that she feared it might lead to a wider revolt or uprising. To keep that great harm from happening, she had taken the bold step of speaking to the king herself. Her fear should excuse the sharpness of her approach.

She also came to him with confidence in his wisdom and kindness. “I will speak to the king myself,” she said in effect, “and I do not need anyone else to plead for me, because the king will listen to reason, even from someone as lowly as I am. He will hear the cries of the oppressed, and he will not allow the poorest of his subjects to be driven away from the inheritance of God,” that is, pushed out of the land of Israel to seek safety among the uncircumcised, or uncircumcised Gentiles. Absalom’s case was worse because, being cut off from the inheritance of God, he lacked God’s law and worship, which might have led him to repentance. He was also in danger of being shaped by the idolatry of the nations among whom he lived, and of bringing that corruption back with him.

To persuade the king to grant her request, she spoke with confidence that his answer would be comforting, like the message angels bring, as Bishop Patrick explains, since angels are messengers of God’s mercy. What this woman said as a compliment, the prophet later said as a promise (Zec 12:8), that when the weak are like David, the house of David will be like the angel of the Lord. In the same way, “the LORD your God will be with you” to help you in this judgment and in every judgment you make. High expectations place a strong duty on people of honor, especially to do all they can not to disappoint those who depend on them.

The king soon suspected that Joab was behind the whole matter, and the woman admitted it, in 2Sa 14:18-20. He could hardly believe that such a woman would come to him on her own in such an important case, and he knew no one more likely to arrange it than Joab, who was a shrewd man and a friend of Absalom. The woman honestly admitted it: “Your servant Joab told me to do it.” If it was well done, let him receive the credit; if it was wrong, let him take the blame. Even though the plan pleased the king, she would not take the praise for herself, but spoke the truth as it was. She gives us a good example to do the same, and never tell a lie just to hide a carefully planned scheme. Be brave enough to tell the truth, nothing truly needs a lie.