Covenant Blood and a Mother's Tears Text: 2 Samuel 21:1-14
Introduction: The God Who Remembers
We live in a sentimental age. We prefer our history airbrushed and our theology syrupy. We want a God who is a divine grandfather, endlessly indulgent and preferably a bit forgetful. We want a gospel of cheap grace that functions like a celestial get out of jail free card, with no thought for justice, restitution, or the hard realities of a world groaning under the weight of sin. And so, when we come to a passage like this one, our modern sensibilities are shocked. We are offended. Famine, bloodguilt, and executions. It feels primitive, harsh, and frankly, embarrassing.
But the God of Scripture is not the god of our sentimental imaginations. He is the God who is, the great I AM, and He does not forget. He is a covenant keeping God, which is a great comfort to His people. But the other side of that coin, the side we like to ignore, is that He is also a covenant enforcing God. He takes oaths seriously. He takes bloodshed seriously. And He takes justice very, very seriously. When a nation makes a promise in His name, He writes it down in His book. And when that promise is treacherously broken, He does not look the other way.
This story is about a three year famine, a national judgment for a national sin. It is a story about how a righteous king deals with the bloody legacy of his predecessor. It is about the difference between personal vengeance and corporate justice. It is about the profound power of a mother's loyal grief. And ultimately, it is a story that casts a long shadow, a shadow that falls right up to the cross of Jesus Christ. For here we see in stark, earthy detail the principle of substitutionary atonement. We see that sin has a cost, that bloodguilt pollutes the land, and that an atonement must be made for the land to be healed. If you want to understand the cross, you must first understand the world that necessitated it. And this passage gives us a clear, if unsettling, window into that world.
The Text
And there was a famine in the days of David for three years, year after year; and David sought the presence of Yahweh. And Yahweh said, “It is for Saul and his bloody house, because he put the Gibeonites to death.” So the king called the Gibeonites and spoke to them (now the Gibeonites were not of the sons of Israel but of the remnant of the Amorites, and the sons of Israel made a covenant with them, but Saul had sought to strike them down in his zeal for the sons of Israel and Judah). Thus David said to the Gibeonites, “What should I do for you? And how can I make atonement that you may bless the inheritance of Yahweh?” Then the Gibeonites said to him, “We have no concern of silver or gold with Saul or his house, nor is it for us to put any man to death in Israel.” And he said, “I will do for you whatever you say.” So they said to the king, “The man who consumed us and who planned to eradicate us from standing within any border of Israel, let seven men from his sons be given to us, and we will hang them before Yahweh in Gibeah of Saul, the chosen of Yahweh.” And the king said, “I will give them.” But the king spared Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan the son of Saul, because of the oath of Yahweh which was between them, between David and Saul’s son Jonathan. So the king took the two sons of Rizpah the daughter of Aiah, Armoni and Mephibosheth whom she had borne to Saul, and the five sons of Merab the daughter of Saul, whom she had borne to Adriel the son of Barzillai the Meholathite. Then he gave them into the hand of the Gibeonites, and they hanged them in the mountain before Yahweh, so that the seven of them fell together; and they were put to death in the first days of harvest at the beginning of barley harvest. And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it for herself on the rock, from the beginning of harvest until it rained on them from the sky; and she allowed neither the birds of the sky to rest on them by day nor the beasts of the field by night. Then it was told to David what Rizpah the daughter of Aiah, the concubine of Saul, had done. So David went and took the bones of Saul and the bones of Jonathan his son from the men of Jabesh-gilead, who had stolen them from the open square of Beth-shan, where the Philistines had hanged them on the day the Philistines struck down Saul in Gilboa. And he brought up the bones of Saul and the bones of Jonathan his son from there, and they gathered the bones of those who had been hanged. Then they buried the bones of Saul and Jonathan his son in the land of Benjamin in Zela, in the grave of Kish his father; thus they did all that the king commanded, and afterwards God was moved by the entreaty for the land.
(2 Samuel 21:1-14 LSB)
Corporate Guilt and a King's Inquiry (vv. 1-2)
The story begins with a problem that is both natural and supernatural. A famine, for three straight years. This is not a random weather pattern. In God's covenant economy, the sky and the soil are instruments of His pleasure or displeasure. When the land is barren, a godly leader knows to ask why. And so, "David sought the presence of Yahweh." This is the first and most important duty of a Christian magistrate. Before he convenes a committee or consults the economists, he must consult God.
"And Yahweh said, 'It is for Saul and his bloody house, because he put the Gibeonites to death.'" (2 Samuel 21:1b)
God's answer is direct and specific. The problem is not agricultural policy; the problem is bloodguilt. Saul, in his misguided "zeal," had attempted to carry out a pogrom against the Gibeonites. Who were they? The text reminds us they were a remnant of the Amorites with whom Israel had made a covenant centuries before, back in the days of Joshua (Joshua 9). It was a treaty sworn in the name of Yahweh. Saul, the hot-headed populist, likely thought he was doing God a favor by trying to purify the land. But his zeal was not according to knowledge. He violated a national oath, and in doing so, he brought a curse upon the nation. Notice the corporate nature of this. Saul is long dead, but his sin remains. The guilt of the federal head attaches to the nation he represented. This is a principle our individualistic age has forgotten. Nations can sin, and nations can be judged.
Atonement and Justice (vv. 3-6)
David, having received the diagnosis from God, now turns to the offended party. He does not presume to know the solution. He asks the Gibeonites two crucial questions: "What should I do for you? And how can I make atonement that you may bless the inheritance of Yahweh?" He understands that for the land to be blessed, the ones who were cursed must pronounce a blessing. Restitution is required.
"Then the Gibeonites said to him, 'We have no concern of silver or gold with Saul or his house, nor is it for us to put any man to death in Israel.'" (2 Samuel 21:4)
The Gibeonites' response is telling. First, they are not looking for blood money. The Mosaic law was clear that no ransom could be accepted for the life of a murderer (Numbers 35:31). Bloodguilt cannot be paid off with cash. Second, they acknowledge that they have no authority to carry out capital punishment in Israel. They are not a lynch mob. Justice must be carried out by the proper authorities. They are submitting to the king's authority.
Their request is specific and legal. They ask for seven of Saul's sons, to be executed "before Yahweh" in Saul's own hometown. The number seven signifies completion or perfection. This is not personal revenge; it is a formal, public act of national atonement. These seven men are to be offered up as substitutes to pay for the sin of their father, the head of their house. This is the principle of federal headship in action. The sin of the one is visited upon his house. It is a hard teaching, but it is a biblical one. And it is a pointer to that other son, the Son of David, who would one day be hung on a tree "before Yahweh" to atone for the sins of His people.
Covenant Keeper, Covenant Breaker (vv. 7-9)
David agrees to their terms. But in the midst of this grim accounting, we see a flash of glorious grace. David's actions are governed by two covenants.
"But the king spared Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan the son of Saul, because of the oath of Yahweh which was between them..." (2 Samuel 21:7)
David is the king who must enforce the consequences of Saul's broken covenant with the Gibeonites. But he is also the man who made a covenant of friendship with Jonathan. And he keeps his word. He is not a vindictive man seeking to wipe out the house of his rival. He is a king under authority, a man of his word. He distinguishes. He spares the one to whom he is bound by oath. He gives up the others to satisfy the demands of justice. The ones he gives are two sons of Saul by his concubine Rizpah, and five grandsons of Saul through his daughter Merab. The sentence is carried out at the beginning of the barley harvest, a bitter irony. The very thing they hope to restore, the fruitfulness of the land, begins with this act of death.
A Mother's Vigil (vv. 10-14)
What follows is one of the most poignant scenes in all of Scripture. Rizpah, the mother of two of the executed men, stages a silent, sorrowful protest. But it is not a protest against God's justice. It is an act of profound piety and maternal devotion.
"And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it for herself on the rock... and she allowed neither the birds of the sky to rest on them by day nor the beasts of the field by night." (2 Samuel 21:10)
The bodies were left exposed, a sign of shame and curse (Deut. 21:23). But this mother would not allow her sons' bodies, made in the image of God, to be dishonored. For months, from the beginning of the harvest in spring until the rains came in the autumn, she kept watch. This is a portrait of fierce, loyal love. Her quiet, dignified, and persistent grief does what no political speech could. It gets the attention of the king.
When David hears what Rizpah has done, he is moved to action. Her piety shames him into his own duty. He realizes that justice is not complete until the dead are honored. So he undertakes a great act of national reconciliation. He goes to Jabesh-gilead and retrieves the bones of Saul and Jonathan, who had been dishonored by the Philistines. He gathers the bones of the seven who were hanged. And he buries them all together, with honor, in the family tomb of Kish, Saul's father. He brings the fractured family of Israel together in death, healing the old wounds of the civil war.
And only then, after justice has been served, after loyalty has been displayed, and after honor has been given to the dead, do we read the beautiful conclusion:
"...and afterwards God was moved by the entreaty for the land." (2 Samuel 21:14b)
The rains come. The famine ends. The land is healed. God's justice is not an end in itself. His justice is always restorative. He executes judgment so that the land can once again be fruitful. He demands atonement so that He can once again pour out His blessing.
The Atonement for Our Land
This story is a bucket of cold water in the face of our therapeutic, individualistic culture. It teaches us things we have worked hard to forget. It teaches us that nations have corporate guilt that must be dealt with. It teaches us that the sins of the fathers do have consequences for their children. It teaches us that bloodguilt pollutes a land and that God's judgment for it is real.
We live in a nation that is soaked in bloodguilt. For decades, we have systematically slaughtered the most innocent and helpless among us in the name of convenience and autonomy. We have broken the most basic covenant, the one between a mother and her child, millions of times over. And we wonder why our land is fractured, why our politics are barren, and why our culture is a wasteland. We have our own famine, and it is a spiritual one.
The answer is not to seek a new political program. The answer is to do what David did. We must seek the face of God. We must ask Him why the land is cursed. And we must be prepared for His answer. The answer is that atonement must be made. Justice must be done.
But the glory of the gospel is that the ultimate atonement has already been made. We are all of the bloody house of Adam. We all deserve to be handed over for the sins of our federal head. But God, in His mercy, provided a substitute. The true Son of David, the chosen of Yahweh, Jesus Christ, was given over for us. He was hanged on a tree, before Yahweh, to bear our curse. He was put to death at the time of the harvest festival, the Passover. He satisfied the justice of God completely, so that the blessing of God might flow to the nations.
Our response, then, is to repent of our national sin and to plead the blood of this perfect substitute. We must call upon God to be moved by the entreaty for our land, not on the basis of our own works of justice, but on the basis of the finished work of His Son. For it is only after that great and final atonement that the curse is lifted, and God is pleased to heal our land.