Commentary - 2 Samuel 15:30-31

Bird's-eye view

We come now to one of the lowest points in David's life. The consequences of his sin with Bathsheba, prophesied by Nathan, are coming to full and bitter fruit. The sword that was never to depart from his house has been taken up by his own son, Absalom. The king is in full flight from Jerusalem, the city of God, rejected by his people and betrayed by his child. This is not just a political coup; it is a covenantal judgment. Yet, in the midst of this profound humiliation, we see the glimmer of the old David, the man after God's own heart. His response is not one of political calculation or military strategy, but of deep, personal grief and immediate, desperate prayer. He is a broken man, but he is a broken man running toward God, not away from Him. And in his sorrowful ascent of the Mount of Olives, we see a profound type of his greater Son, who would one day ascend that same mount to face an even greater betrayal and bear a far heavier sorrow for the sins of His people.

Outline

Context In 2 Samuel

This passage is the heart of the Absalom rebellion narrative. After years of simmering rebellion and masterful political manipulation (2 Sam. 15:1-12), Absalom has made his move, and the conspiracy is strong. David, caught off guard and unwilling to turn Jerusalem into a battlefield, makes the difficult decision to flee (2 Sam. 15:14). His departure from the city is a sorrowful procession, marked by the loyalty of men like Ittai the Gittite and the proper handling of the Ark of the Covenant, which David sends back to the city in an act of faith (2 Sam. 15:25). The verses before us describe the emotional climax of this flight, as David ascends the Mount of Olives, looking back on the city he has lost. This moment is a direct fulfillment of Nathan's prophecy that evil would rise against David from his own household (2 Sam. 12:11).

Commentary

v. 30 But David went up the ascent of the Mount of Olives, and wept as he went, and his head was covered and he was walking barefoot. And all the people who were with him each covered his head and went up weeping as they went.

The narrative slows down here to paint a picture of profound grief. David is not simply retreating; he is lamenting. The location is significant. The Mount of Olives is just east of Jerusalem, across the Kidron Valley. To ascend it is to turn one's back on the city. This is the path of an exile. And of course, we cannot read of a rejected king weeping on the Mount of Olives without seeing a foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus. The greater David would one day be in a garden on this very mount, sweating drops of blood in agony, betrayed by one of his own inner circle, on his way to be crucified (Luke 22:39-44). David's sorrow is a type; Christ's sorrow is the antitype.

His actions are not just emotional; they are formal expressions of mourning and humiliation. He covers his head, a sign of shame and grief (cf. Jer. 14:3-4). He walks barefoot, a posture of humility and sorrow, indicating that the ground he walks on is one of affliction. This is not a stoic king putting on a brave face. This is a penitent man who knows, at some level, that this calamity is the outworking of his own sin. He is accepting the discipline of the Lord. He is not cursing God; he is weeping before Him. And his loyal followers enter into this grief with him. They cover their heads and weep. This is true loyalty, to identify with your king not just in his glory, but in his shame.

v. 31 Now David informed them, saying, “Ahithophel is among the conspirators with Absalom.” And David said, “O Yahweh, I pray, make the counsel of Ahithophel foolishness.”

As if the situation were not dire enough, David receives the worst possible strategic news. Ahithophel, his most trusted counselor, has defected to Absalom. The Scripture tells us later that "the counsel of Ahithophel, which he counselled in those days, was as if a man had enquired at the oracle of God" (2 Sam. 16:23). This was the ancient equivalent of learning that your enemy has acquired your most brilliant general and all your top-secret intelligence. Ahithophel's counsel was shrewd, wise, and deadly. From a human perspective, this betrayal sealed David's fate.

And what is David's response? He does not call a council of war. He does not begin to strategize or scheme. He does not fall into despair. His immediate, reflexive action is to pray. And the prayer is a model of faithful desperation. It is short, direct, and aimed at the heart of the problem. "O Yahweh, I pray, make the counsel of Ahithophel foolishness." He does not ask for Ahithophel to be struck dead. He does not ask for a legion of angels. He asks God to intervene in the mind and mouth of one man. He knows that the whole rebellion hinges on the wisdom of this one counselor, and he asks God, who is sovereign over all human wisdom, to turn that great asset into a liability. David takes the most formidable weapon in his enemy's arsenal and asks God to jam it. This is faith in action. It is a recognition that the battle is the Lord's, and that the wisdom of man is foolishness with God.

Application

There are several profound lessons for us here. First, sin has consequences, and they are often long, bitter, and familial. The bill for David's sin with Bathsheba is now coming due in the most painful way imaginable. We must not be deceived; we will reap what we sow. But God's discipline is not the same as His condemnation. For the believer, it is a sign of sonship (Heb. 12:6).

Second, the proper response to God's chastening is not bitterness or defiance, but humble repentance. David's posture, weeping and barefoot, is the posture of a man who is submitting to the hand of God, even as it strikes him. He is broken, but he is broken in the right way. This is the kind of broken and contrite heart that God will not despise (Ps. 51:17).

Finally, we see the central importance of prayer in the midst of crisis. When the worst news comes, our first move must be toward the throne of grace. David's prayer was not a last resort; it was his first instinct. He knew that his only hope lay not in his own strength or shrewdness, but in the sovereign power of God to confound the plans of the wicked. Our prayers do not need to be long or eloquent. They need to be honest, direct, and rooted in the conviction that God is God, and that He is able to do far more than we can ask or think. David's prayer was answered, not by a lightning strike, but through the courageous loyalty of another counselor, Hushai. God uses means, but our trust must be in Him, not the means.