The war was over and the rebellion ended. All that remained was for Joab to notify the king and return him safely to Jerusalem. But it was a bittersweet victory for David. When the enemy is your own son, there can be no triumph and no celebration.
Ahimaaz was a well-known runner (v. 27), and he volunteered to take the news to the king at Mahanaim, some three miles away. As enthusiastic as the young man was, he didn’t realize what he was asking; for David was known to take out his anger and sorrow on the messengers (1:4–16; 4:8–12)! Although the word “tidings” that Ahimaaz used could apply to any kind of news, it usually referred to “good news,” and there was no good news that day. Joab knew his king very well and knew that the report of Absalom’s death must be conveyed with compassion and skill. To keep Ahimaaz safe, Joab selected a person known only as “the Cushite,” who was possibly one of his own servants. Better that a foreign servant be slain than the son of a Jewish priest. However, after the Cushite left, Ahimaaz continued to annoy Joab and ask for permission to run. There was nothing good or bad to add to the news, so why run? Weary of hearing the young man’s pleas, Joab gave him permission to go.
Ahimaaz reminds us of those bothersome people who want to be important but have nothing much to say. He took the long, easy route to Mahanaim through the valley, while the Cushite took the short, direct route over difficult terrain. Ahimaaz was a young man without a real message or the ability to convey that message in the right way. As the Cushite ran, he meditated on how to tell King David that his son was dead. What’s the sense in running if you don’t know how to share the news?
The scene shifts to Mahanaim where David is seated between the outer and inner gates of the city, waiting for the watchman in the tower to give him word that a messenger is on his way from the battlefield. Even though he was unprepared to speak to the king, Ahimaaz put forth every effort and passed the Cushite on the road. David said, “He is a good man. He comes with good news” (v. 27 niv). It’s obvious that the character of the messenger has nothing to do with the contents of the message, but David was grasping for any straw of hope available.
Before he arrived at the gate, Ahimaaz was so anxious to give the news that he called out, “All is well.” Then he came to the king, bowed before him and told him that Joab had won the battle. When David asked about Absalom, the young messenger was not prepared or equipped to share the bad news, so he made an excuse that was undoubtedly a lie. In his feeble attempt to go down in history as the man who brought the news from the forest of Ephraim to Mahanaim, Ahimaaz ended up having nothing to say that David wanted to hear. What he said was correct, but he didn’t say enough. He ended up standing to one side and watching the Cushite deliver the right message in the right way.
During my pastoral ministry, I’ve occasionally had to be the bearer of bad news. I can recall praying, pondering, and putting myself in the place of the waiting people, all the while trying to assemble words that would bring the least amount of hurt. It wasn’t easy. Someone has defined “tact” as “the knack of making a point without making an enemy,” and the Cushite had tact.
The text says that David “trembled violently” when he comprehended that Absalom had been slain. No doubt he had prayed that the worst would not happen, but it happened just the same. In one sense, David pronounced his own sentence when he said to Nathan, “And he shall restore the lamb fourfold” (12:5), for this was the final payment of David’s great debt. The baby had died, Tamar was raped, Amnon was slain and now Absalom was dead. David tasted once again the pain of forgiven sin.
David’s tears reveal the broken heart of a loving father. Speaking about David’s sorrow, Charles Spurgeon said, “[I]t would be wise to sympathize as far as we can, than to sit in judgment upon a case which has never been our own.” David wept when he heard about the death of Jonathan and Saul (1:11–12), the murder of Abner (3:32), and the murder of Amnon (13:33–36), so why shouldn’t he weep over the death of his beloved son Absalom? Once again, we see the heart of God revealed in the heart of David, for Christ died for us when we were sinners and living as the enemies of God (Rom. 5:7–10). David would have died for Absalom, but Jesus did die for us!
David’s problem wasn’t that he grieved over his son, for grief is a very human response and tears are a part of the healing. His problem was that he grieved excessively and wouldn’t permit himself to be comforted. His response was abnormal. He neglected himself and his responsibilities and had to be soundly rebuked by Joab before he would take steps to return to Jerusalem and save the kingdom. His troubles weren’t over, but the Lord would empower him to be the ruler He wanted him to be.
The Lord can heal a broken heart, if we give all the pieces to Him and obey Him by faith.