There are stories in the OT that we hardly ever hear read in church – and this is one of them. We regard such stories with some horror, shudder and pass on to something more savoury. Why then have I chosen this reading and want to preach about it? Because it is part of God’s word – and if we find it repellent, we must wrestle with it and seek out its purpose and application to ourselves. Not all of God’s word is pleasant reading, because it holds up a mirror to human weakness and sin – but we do well to understand what this means for us today.

I intend that we should (1) look at the facts of the story as the narrator tells them, especially at the role of David. (2) Then at the story of Rizpah, where the narrator makes no comment, but leaves us to exercise our imaginatioin and compassion. (3) I want to consider God’s part in all this, and where he directs our thoughts.

The first, brief, comment I make concerns the context of this episode. Chapters 21-24 form an epilogue to the book(s) of Samuel. Chronologically the story of David continues from chapter 20 directly to the book of Kings. This story is one the compiler of Samuel left out of his continuous narrative, but still felt a need to include. Although undated it probably took place between chapters 5 and 9, and the same goes for chapter 24.

The 6 stories in the epilogue are symmetrically arranged around a core of 2 of David’s psalms, expressive of the heart of the man. The first and last of these both relate natural catastrophes seen as God’s judgement on Israel. The first – our story – relates circumstances David inherited from Saul’s reign; the last to David’s own sin of pride in numbering the men of Israel of military age.

1. King David’s judgement.

There a was famine in the land – no doubt caused by drought – which had lasted 3 years. Vagaries of weather are the lot of us all. But after 3 years David was right to suspect God had a message of judgement to bring to his attention. So he prayed about it – and had the reply that it was on account of Saul’s having massacred some of the people of Gibeon.

The story of these people is told in Joshua 9. Fearful of the advancing conquest of Joshua, they had devised a ruse to make themselves acceptable. They deceived Joshua (who did not consult the Lord) into thinking they lived far away. He entered into into an alliance with them, by an oath that bound Israel, in the Lord’s name, to do them no harm. When their deceit was discovered Joshua made them bond-servants, especially to serve the Tent of the Lord.

So their subsequent massacre (of which we have no record) may perhaps be associated with Saul’s destruction of Nob, when he killed the priests and their families. Saul, we are told tried to annihilate these indigenous foreigners in his zeal for Israel and Judah. But rash zeal is no excuse for murder and the violation of that solemn oath.

David asks the Gibeonites, How can I make amends, so that you will bless the Lord’s inheritance? Did David act wisely in asking them to choose the only acceptable expiation? We’re not told he set the matter before the Lord. He certainly put himself into the hands of unforgiving men, although justly aggrieved. Their request was for a blood-for-blood recompense – money compensation was out of the question. King David consented that 7 of Saul’s descendants – 2 sons and 5 grandsons – should pay the price, only sparing Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth, because of David’s own oath to Jonathan.

At this point we need to know 2 things which the narrator doesn’t tell us: (1) David had also sworn in the Lord’s name to Saul himself, that he would never harm his posterity, when he came to power. (1 Sam 24:21-22) (2) Moses explicitly taught, Children shall not be put to death for their fathers – each is to die for his own sin. (Deut 24:16; Ezk 18:1-32)

Perhaps David didn’t know of this latter teaching – but he certainly knew of the inviolability of a sacred oath, and God’s displeasure at it. As we say proverbially, Two wrongs do not make a right. Was there any alternative to David’s action? Yes, there was – he could have taught that God seeks reconciliation through forgiveness, as David was himself to be taught one day. (2 Samuel 14:1-17) By this judgement David undoubtedly alienated himself from loyal supporters of the royal house of Saul. (2 Sam 16:5-8; 20:1-2) But we should acknowledge that David sought justice before God for an ill-used alien people, and made plain the guilt of Saul’s house.

The seven sons and grandsons of Saul were taken by the Gibeonites, killed at the same time, and their bodies exposed for some considerable period. In the Gibeonites’ eyes this served to remind God that justice had been done, and to plead for an end to the drought. (Num 25:4)

But this prolonged exposure was also in defiance of God’s explicit requirement, If a man.. is put to death and his body hung on a tree, you must not leave his body on the tree overnight. Be sure to bury him that same day.. You must not desecrate the land the Lord your God is giving you.. (Deut 21:22-23) If David didn’t know that – it shows how the teaching of God’s word had suffered at that time.

2. Rizpah’s loving action.

Now we come to the action of Rizpah. Nothing is told us about Saul’s daughter Merab and her husband Adriel, the parents of the 5 grandsons. But the two sons of Rizpah were all that she had. Their father, Saul, was dead – and she had only been his concubine – a relationship without honour or dignity.

Later, it appears, Saul’s powerful general, Abner, had slept with her. Or, at least, so Saul’s son Ishbosheth – the new king of all the tribes except Judah – had accused Abner of doing. This so enraged Abner that he changed his loyalty from the house of Saul to that of David. But the off-hand way he speaks of Rizpah reveals that she was no more than a pawn in his plans to advance his own interests – which is what Ishbosheth was really accusing him of. (2 Sam 3:6-11)

So two men had taken advantage of her emotions and vulnerability, but conferred on her no real love or commitment. Only her two sons had probably done that – and they were now snatched from her forever. Is it any wonder she loved them even in death? And would not allow their bodies to be violated by vultures or wild animals? Her vigil was a kind of mute appeal to God, that their sacrifice might not be in vain. We cannot doubt that God – who appeared to the wronged and fugitive Hagar, and was named by her, the God who sees me (Gen 16:6-14) – also saw and loved Rizpah for her faithfulness. We are moved by it ourselves.

So also was the English poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson – for he wrote a poem, just called Rizpah, in which he transposes the story to an 18th century English setting:
My baby, the bones that had sucked me, the bones that had laughed and had cried.
Theirs? Oh no! They are mine – not theirs – they had moved in my side…
As someone has said, Mother-love often pays the price for the pride and folly of men.

What then are we to do with this story? How does it have lessons for our lives? We have touched on the obvious things: (1) The need to consult the Lord at all times – and especially before we put ourselves in the debt of others. (2) The seriousness of making and then breaking our vows. Most of us only make one vow in our lifetime – unless we serve in our country’s armed services, or get ordained! – and that is when we get married! It is good to renew such vows from time to time, to remind ourselves that that commitment is life-long, for in our weakness we can sin even in our thoughts. (3) That we men are required to treat all women with loving respect, and not take advantage of anybody who is in some way in our power.

3. God’s judgement.

But there is more to this story. There is another actor: God himself. He appears only at the beginning and at the end, but we know he is always present – and his blessing of rain came only after the death of Saul’s sons. Why did God act in this way? Because he loves his people, and was teaching them this most fundamental lesson – sin is to be taken seriously. God’s people were living in his land – which bloodshed had polluted. (Num 35:33-34)

Although this had been committed by one man – the king – he represented all his people. Unlike ourselves, affected by modern individualistic thinking, this people rightly had a strong sense of corporate responsibility – and the famine had really awakened a need to put things right with God. One person’s unrepented and unconfessed sin can deny God’s blessing to a whole church, or to a whole community. It must be confessed and dealt with, if God’s blessing is not to be prevented or hindered – and this is especially true in our own lives, if we are guilty.

This principle comes out clearly in Scripture. A good example is that of Achan. (Joshua 7) He coveted and took from the forbidden treasure of Jericho, which was to be dedicated to the Lord and destroyed. As a result, he himself, and all he possessed, including his family, had to be subject to the same fate as Jericho. Only then could Israel again have victory over her enemies. Another example occurs in the early days of the church, through the deceit and covetousness of Ananias and Sapphira. (Acts 5:1-14) They too received an unmistakable judgement from God upon their sin.

Why was God so severe? Because his people must recognize his utter holiness, and be themselves holy, separate from sin and obedient to his word. We do not like to hear about sin and its deserved judgement – but we need to hear about it. But to hear it against the background of God’s redeeming love.

4. God’s redeeming love.

From the beginning, from Adam’s sin, which has affected all mankind (Rom 5:12), God in his love has sought us. His cry of, Adam, Adam – where are you? (Gen 1:9) echoes in our ears, as we survey the devastation caused by sin, because we’ve turned our backs on our Maker. God longs for us to become his obedient children, ready to confess our sin, and seek his forgiveness and cleansing. (1 John 1:7-9)

As we reflect on this story, which reminds us of the difficulty of making amends for the past misbehaviour of ourselves – or, as here, of another – we realise the complexity of all such broken relationships, and the impossibility of humans achieving a true resolution. And as we meditate on the issue of corporate responsibility – an important question arises, that lies unanswered here – Can one person die instead of another?

Our thoughts fly to our Lord’s words, Greater love has no-one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13) Immediately we see a vital difference with our story – this may be possible if the sacrifice is truly voluntary. An enforced death has no love in it. So we honour those who have given their lives in the defence of their country, or others who have made great sacrifices for those they love.

But to take the place of punishment of those that deserve death – is not ours to give. We think of David’s anguished cry, O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you – O Absalom, my son, my son! (2 Sam 18:33) Fictional characters may do so, like Sydney Carton, in Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, who dies on the guillotine instead of Charles Darnay (It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done…). But God’s word is explicit about our debt to him, No man can redeem the life of another or give to God a ransom for himself. (Psa 49:7; Matt 16:26)

And the reason for this is that none of us is exempt from sin (Rom 3:10-12, 19-20) – and therefore, in God’s sight, our lives are already forfeit; we all deserve to die, for the wages of sin is death. (Rom 6:23) So none of us is fit to die in the place of another – only a sinless man could do so.

Moreover, if there were such a man – how could his one life answer for the sins of a multitude of sinners? Indeed, since our sin consists in our rebellion against God, our neglect of him, and our disobedience to his will – how can our offence to God be transferred to another?

It is the glory and wonder of the gospel that God gives us the answer to those questions. He himself is our Redeemer! The psalmist who said, No man can..give God a ransom for himself, goes on to say, but God will redeem my life from the grave… (Psa 49:7,15)

God came in the person of his Son, born as one of us, the promised son of David, but without sin. He died judicially in our place, suffering instead of us the death we deserve – so that, in exchange we might receive and be clothed in his righteousness (2 Cor 5:21; Rom 8:32; 2 Tim 2:6; Isa 53:6).

He was not just one arbitrary innocent man – he was one who could truly represent us all, who become united with him by faith. He loved us and freely gave himself for us (Gal 2:20). He is our King – our Kinsman-Redeemer – and, above all, our Lord and God (John 20:28), who took upon himself to pay the price of our rescue, whose death is of infinite value. Therefore we must bow in love and adoration to him, and give him the worship and service of our lives!

Before we end our story – let’s glance back again – to see the clues that God intended to do all this for us! The human author will not have known, but we may see, for this is God’s word to us. Firstly, we see that those men died on a hill, at the beginning of the barley-harvest. In other words, at Passover, when God’s people remember and celebrate their rescue from slavery and the angel of death, through the shed blood of the pascal lamb.

Secondly – Rizpah, weeping and keeping vigil below the gibbet. Who does she remind you of? – another, who had not so long an agony, but a more awful one. Finally, to Rizpah and to Mary, to ourselves, and to all God’s people, when we have to undergo awful and deeply distressing things – with agonized, unanswerable questions on our lips – we address these words of David, Weeping may endure for a night – but joy is coming in the Morning! (Psa 30:5) For in the words of John, God will wipe away every tear from (our) eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain… (Rev 21:4)

Hallelujah! Amen.