When Victory Feels Like Defeat: The King's Two Sorrows
Introduction: The War of Two Gospels
We live in an age that despises complexity. We want our news in soundbites, our morality in slogans, and our victories clean and uncomplicated. We want to celebrate the triumph of justice without having to look at the corpse of the vanquished. Our therapeutic culture tells us that all negative feelings are bad, and that a truly successful outcome is one where everyone feels good. But the world as God made it, and as sin has marred it, is not so simple. The Bible is not a simple book because it is a true book, and the truth is often a tangled, bloody, and glorious affair.
This passage brings us to the collision of two non-negotiable realities: the good of the kingdom and the heart of a father. David the king has just won a decisive victory, delivered by the hand of God, against a wicked and treasonous rebellion. This is an objective good. The kingdom is saved. But David the father has just lost a son, a son he loved despite his treachery. This is a profound sorrow. And the central tension of this text is the race to deliver this news, this terrible good news. It is a story about two gospels.
One gospel is the gospel of the kingdom: the rebellion is crushed, the king is secure, God has rendered judgment. The other is the gospel of the father's heart: is my son safe? Our world wants to pretend that these two things can never be in conflict. But David knows they can. And in this raw, agonizing moment, we see a picture of a man torn apart by his two great loves, his love for his people and his love for his son. This is not just an ancient story about a dysfunctional royal family. This is a story that forces us to ask what "good news" really is, and it prepares us for the only true Gospel where the victory of the King and the love of the Father are perfectly and finally reconciled.
The Text
Then Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said, “Please let me run and proclaim the good news to the king that Yahweh has judged to save him from the hand of his enemies.” But Joab said to him, “You are not the man for the good news this day, but you shall proclaim the good news another day; however, you shall not proclaim the good news today because the king’s son has died.” Then Joab said to the Cushite, “Go, tell the king what you have seen.” So the Cushite bowed to Joab and ran. Now Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said once more to Joab, “But whatever happens, please let me also run after the Cushite.” And Joab said, “Why would you run, my son, since you will have no reward for going?” “But whatever happens,” he said, “I will run.” So he said to him, “Run.” Then Ahimaaz ran by way of the plain and passed the Cushite. Now David was sitting between the two gates; and the watchman went up to the roof of the gate by the wall, and raised his eyes and looked, and behold, a man running by himself. And the watchman called and told the king. And the king said, “If he is by himself there is good news in his mouth.” And he came nearer and nearer. Then the watchman saw another man running; and the watchman called to the gatekeeper and said, “Behold, another man running by himself.” And the king said, “This one also is bringing good news.” And the watchman said, “I see that the running of the first one is like the running of Ahimaaz the son of Zadok.” And the king said, “This is a good man and comes with good news.” And Ahimaaz called and said to the king, “Peace!” And he prostrated himself before the king with his face to the ground. And he said, “Blessed is Yahweh your God, who has delivered up the men who lifted their hands against my lord the king.” Then the king said, “Is there peace with the young man Absalom?” And Ahimaaz said, “When Joab sent the king’s servant, and your servant, I saw a great tumult, but I did not know what it was.” Then the king said, “Turn aside and stand here.” So he turned aside and stood still. Behold, the Cushite arrived, and the Cushite said, “Let my lord the king receive good news, for Yahweh has judged to save you this day from the hand of all those who rose up against you.” Then the king said to the Cushite, “Is there peace with the young man Absalom?” And the Cushite answered, “Let the enemies of my lord the king, and all who rise up against you for evil, be as that young man!” Then the king trembled and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And thus he said as he walked, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”
(2 Samuel 18:19-33 LSB)
The Zealot and the Realist (vv. 19-23)
We begin with the eagerness of a young man who sees things in black and white.
"Then Ahimaaz the son of Zadok said, 'Please let me run and proclaim the good news to the king that Yahweh has judged to save him from the hand of his enemies.'" (2 Samuel 18:19 LSB)
Ahimaaz is the son of the priest. He is a good man, full of zeal. He sees the world as it should be. The rightful king has been vindicated by God. The rebellion has been put down. This is, by any objective measure, "good news." The Hebrew word here is `basar`, the very word from which we get our concept of gospel, of evangelism. Ahimaaz wants to be an evangelist. He wants to proclaim the good news of God's salvation and judgment. And in this, his heart is right.
But Joab, the grizzled, pragmatic, and often ruthless commander, understands the world as it is. He knows David. He knows that the king's final order before the battle was "Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom." Joab, having just personally dispatched Absalom with three javelins, knows that this good news for the kingdom is a dagger for the king's heart. He tells Ahimaaz, "You are not the man for the good news this day... because the king's son has died."
Joab's wisdom here is a worldly wisdom, but it is wisdom nonetheless. He understands that the message is inseparable from the messenger and the receiver. He knows that Ahimaaz, the good man, is not equipped to deliver this terrible news. So he sends the Cushite, a foreigner, likely a mercenary or slave. This is not a slight; it is a calculated decision. The Cushite is a professional. He can deliver the unvarnished facts without the emotional entanglement. But Ahimaaz, full of a zeal that outstrips his wisdom, insists. He doesn't care about the reward; he just wants to run. This is the folly of youth. He is so focused on the message of victory that he is blind to the message of grief that is wrapped inside it.
The Anxious King (vv. 24-27)
The scene shifts to David, waiting between the gates. His posture is not that of a conquering king awaiting a victory report. It is the posture of a father waiting for news of his son.
"And the king said, 'If he is by himself there is good news in his mouth.'" (2 Samuel 18:25 LSB)
David is a man grasping at straws. His logic is the logic of hope, not of military strategy. A lone runner means the battle is over and it is not a rout. This is true. But the good news he is desperate to hear is not about the battle. When the watchman identifies the first runner as Ahimaaz, David's hope surges. "This is a good man and comes with good news." David is projecting. He is trying to will the news to be good. He assumes that because Ahimaaz is a good man, he must be bringing the news that David's heart longs for, which is that Absalom is safe.
We see here how a father's love, even a disordered love for a rebellious son, can warp a king's perspective. The security of the entire nation of Israel hangs in the balance, but David's emotional world has shrunk to the fate of one man. This is a profound weakness in David, the king. It is the consequence of his own past sins with Bathsheba and Uriah. The sword that Nathan prophesied has come home, and it is piercing David's own soul.
Two Reports, One Question (vv. 28-32)
The two runners arrive, and their reports could not be more different in their effect, even though they carry the same essential facts.
"And Ahimaaz called and said to the king, 'Peace!'... 'Blessed is Yahweh your God, who has delivered up the men who lifted their hands against my lord the king.'" (2 Samuel 18:28 LSB)
Ahimaaz gives the perfect, theologically sound, official report. He declares "Shalom!" and gives all glory to God for the victory. He says everything a faithful Israelite should say. But then David asks the only question that matters to him: "Is there peace with the young man Absalom?" Is it `shalom` with Absalom?
And here, the zealous evangelist crumbles. He lies. Or, to be precise, he equivocates so thoroughly as to be a liar. "I saw a great tumult, but I did not know what it was." He knew perfectly well what it was. He had argued with Joab about it. But he could not bring himself to deliver the blow. His courage failed him. He had the gospel of the kingdom's victory, but he choked on the gospel of the king's sorrow.
Then the Cushite arrives. He gives a similar report, focusing on God's salvation and judgment. David asks him the same, desperate question. And the Cushite, with remarkable skill and courage, tells the whole truth. He does not say, "He is dead." He says, "Let the enemies of my lord the king, and all who rise up against you for evil, be as that young man!" He frames Absalom's death within the context of righteous judgment. Absalom got what traitors deserve. He is respectful, he is loyal, but he is unflinchingly honest. He delivers the hard gospel.
The Cry of the Broken Father (v. 33)
The Cushite's words land like a hammer blow, and the king shatters into a thousand pieces.
"Then the king trembled and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And thus he said as he walked, 'O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!'" (2 Samuel 18:33 LSB)
The victory is forgotten. The kingdom is forgotten. There is only the father and the unbearable weight of his grief. This is the harvest of his sin. He knows, on some level, that his own failures as a father contributed to Absalom's rebellion. His passivity after Amnon's rape of Tamar, his own example of rebellion and murder, it all comes home to roost in the death of his beautiful, treacherous son.
And in his agony, he utters a profound, substitutionary cry: "Would I had died instead of you." This is the cry of every loving parent who has lost a child. But coming from David, it is more. He is the king, the Lord's anointed. He is wishing he could take the place of a traitor to the crown, his own son. It is a beautiful and impossible wish. David is a sinner. His death could not atone for Absalom's sin. He could not be a substitute. His grief, while understandable, is also disordered. He is elevating his personal sorrow above the public good, a fault for which Joab will rightly and harshly rebuke him in the next chapter. David, the great king, is still a flawed man, a broken father.
The Better David, The True Substitute
David's story is a tragedy. He is a king who has victory in the field but utter defeat in his heart. His cry, "Would I had died instead of you," hangs in the air, unanswered. He could not do it. He was not qualified.
But his cry was a prophecy. It was a shadow pointing to a greater King, a better David. We are all Absalom. We have all lifted our hands in rebellion against our rightful Lord. We have all sought to usurp His throne. And we all deserve the Cushite's report. We deserve to be "as that young man," cut off in our rebellion.
But the good news, the true `basar`, is that another King, King Jesus, saw us in our treason. And God the Father did not just weep and wish for a substitute. He provided one. He sent His only Son. And Jesus, the true King, did what David could only long to do. He went to a tree, just as Absalom did. And on that tree, He actually died in our place. He took the curse that we, the rebels, deserved.
The gospel is not the mixed message of Ahimaaz, a victory tainted with unbearable sorrow. The gospel is that the King's Son died, and His death was the victory. In the cross of Christ, the justice of the King and the mercy of the Father meet and kiss. God did not have to choose between His kingdom and His rebellious children. He secured His kingdom by saving His rebellious children, through the substitutionary death of His beloved Son.
David's cry was the cry of a broken man. Christ's cry, "It is finished," was the cry of a victorious Savior. The news we receive is not that the rebel is dead and the king is grieving. The news we receive is that the Son is dead and is risen, and because He died for the rebels, we can have `shalom` with the King forever.