Posted on by Chris Moon

2 Samuel 17:27-29 – Kingdom loyalty

David had been having a hard time. He was on the run. He’d just raced across the Jordan River, trying to escape the clutches of his son Absalom, who had seized control of the kingdom. This was David’s own fault, of course. David’s sin with Bathsheba and the events that followed it sent him into this dark valley. God had said David’s punishment would be family chaos that would spill into public view (2 Samuel 12:10-12). That’s exactly what David got.

So Absalom was hot on David’s heels, following David across the Jordan River into the land of Gilead. Absalom brought a large army with him. A battle was brewing. Absalom intended to kill his father, David, the anointed one of God.

And David and his group crossed the Jordan, tired and hungry, short on supplies, wondering what was going to happen next. David was met there by three men who offered help. Here is the text again:

“When David came to Mahanaim, Shobi the son of Nahash from Rabbah of the Ammonites, and Machir the son of Ammiel from Lo-debar, and Barzillai the Gileadite from Rogelim, brought beds, basins, and earthen vessels, wheat, barley, flour, parched grain, beans and lentils,honey and curds and sheep and cheese from the herd, for David and the people with him to eat, for they said, ‘The people are hungry and weary and thirsty in the wilderness’” (2 Samuel 17:27-29).

I’d like to make the point today that this text is about loyalty to the kingdom of God. That is what was happening here. Three men – Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai – were loyal to the king of Israel and to the people who belonged to the king of Israel. And the loyalty of these three men came at a time that was most inconvenient and dangerous to them. Who knew what Absalom would do to them if he was successful in killing David?

We need to ask ourselves as seriously as we can, with as much honesty as we can, whether we are capable of being as loyal to the kingdom of God as Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai were. God’s kingdom today on earth is led by Jesus Christ, the Son of David. Jesus is our King, and He leads the church. How loyal are you to Jesus and to His kingdom on earth, the church?

What do we know about these three men – Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai?

Shobi was an Ammonite, the son of Nahash. We believe this to be the same Nahash who was a deceased king of the Ammonites, a man who had been friendly toward David. When Nahash died, his kingdom was ruled by one of his sons, a man named Hanun. Hanun wasn’t a good king. When David sent his men to Hanun with his greetings, Hanun disgraced them – and David – shaving off half of their beards and cutting off the bottom portion of their clothes and sending them out of town. It was hugely offensive and led to war. David destroyed Hanun’s army. But Hanun’s brother Shobi was spared. It must have been surprising when David walked through the king’s house, checking for Hanun’s relatives. Shobi was there – trembling, I’m sure. Was this death? No. It was life. At some point, David gave his decision. “You’re spared.” Scholars speculate David even put Shobi in charge of the nation of the Ammonites. David could have wiped out the entire family, of course. But David didn’t. He spared Shobi’s life.

Later, when David was on the run from Absalom, Shobi brought beds, basins, and earthen vessels, among other things, to David’s people. We call this loyalty.

Machir was a Benjaminite. During the big conflict between the house of King Saul and the house of David, Machir sheltered one of Saul’s grandsons, a young man named Mephibosheth. Mephibosheth was a pitiful fellow, crippled in both feet. After David secured his kingdom and swept the house of Saul out of power, David went searching for any descendants of Saul. David located Mephibosheth at the home of Machir. Machir must have wondered what David’s intentions were when the king pulled up in the driveway. The standard procedure was to kill every member of the old monarch’s family, particularly the males. Eliminate potential competition. David showed up and asked for Mephibosheth. “He’s going to eat at my table from now on. I’m going to look after his every need.”

Later, when David was on the run from Absalom, Machir brought wheat, barley, flour, parched grain, beans, and lentils, among other things, to David’s people. We call this loyalty.

Barzillai was a Gileadite. We know less about him than about Shobi and Machir. Really, the only thing we know about Barzillai is that he was very old and very wealthy and that he preferred to serve rather than be served (2 Samuel 19:31-40). We don’t know what kinds of interactions, if any, Barzillai had had with David. But Barzillai lived in Gilead, on the far side of the Jordan River, presumably near Mahanaim. And so he would have known all about David’s dealings with the family of King Saul and about Mephibosheth and Machir. He also would have known well David’s dealings with Shobi and the Ammonites. And Barzillai had resources, and he knew how to use them.

So when David was on the run from Absalom, Barzillai brought honey and curds and sheep and cheese from the herd, among other things, to David’s people. We call this loyalty.

These three men were different kinds of men. Shobi was a pagan Ammonite, a Gentile, whose family formerly had been in conflict with David. Machir was a Jew, who came from the tribe of Benjamin – King Saul’s tribe – which formerly had been in conflict with David. And Barzillai was a bit of a mystery. God leaves it to us to wonder about Barzillai’s backstory.

They were different kinds of men, but they had one thing in common. They were loyal to the kingdom of God. The kingdom had left a positive impression on them. For at least two of these men, they would have been first-hand witnesses to the mercy and grace that is a hallmark of the kingdom of God. Shobi could very well have been killed by king David. But he wasn’t. Machir could very well have been present at the execution of Mephibosheth – an execution that could very well have extended to Machir. But that execution didn’t happen. These men witnessed the mercy of the kingdom of God. It was undeniable in their lives.  

If there’s one thing we ought to say about the kingdom of God, it’s that it is merciful. The apostle Peter once wrote that Jesus “is patient.” In what way, Peter, is Jesus patient? Peter said Jesus “is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). The kingdom of God is marked by patient mercy, so that you might be saved.

Has that left an impression on you?

You need mercy. Do you know it? The apostle Paul wrote, “None is righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10). If you look back on your life and cannot see your sinfulness in clear display, in high definition – all of your lack of understanding, your failure to listen to God, the lies you’ve told, the wounds you’ve left on others, the chaos you’ve caused – if you cannot see that, you ought to start praying that you can see it. You are in a precarious spot.

But if you can see all that sinfulness, you ought to know Jesus stands ready to offer you mercy. The apostle Paul wrote, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift” (Romans 3:23-25). Paul called it redemption, and it comes by the blood of Jesus Christ who was hanging on the cross. It is received by faith, not by works. It is a marvelous thing – a free gift. We deserve the sword, but we are given meals at the king’s table. We once were part of the rebellion, but now we’re elevated to eternal life.

Has that left an impression on you?

Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai saw their opportunity to serve King David and the kingdom, and they did not hesitate. They came out of Mahanaim, their arms loaded with gifts. They had seen the kingdom of God in action, and they couldn’t stop thinking about it. They had to go. They had to give. It wasn’t convenient, really. It was at some risk to themselves. Absalom was encamped just over there, surely watching. The world always is watching. But those three men came anyway. They unloaded their donkeys and their camels. They brought what they could.

“The people are hungry and weary and thirsty in the wilderness.” The three men were concerned not just with King David. They also were concerned about the kingdom, about the ones with the king, about the ones whom the king loved most on this earth.  

So this is a text about loyalty to the kingdom of God. Are we loyal to Christ, our King, and are we loyal to His church on earth? Are we loyal like these three men were loyal? Do we see our opportunity to serve and then go for it, even if it’s inconvenient or risky or expensive? Has the kingdom of God made an impression on you? 

When Joseph of Arimathea heard Jesus had died on the cross on that dark Friday, Joseph didn’t wait. He asked for the body of Jesus. Joseph wanted to give the body a proper burial. It was dangerous business to do what Joseph of Arimathea did. The Jewish council wouldn’t like it. Pilate might get suspicious. It was dangerous business to have your name added to the list of potential political and religious agitators in first-century Jerusalem. But Joseph didn’t wait. The gospel of Mark said Joseph of Arimathea needed “courage” to do what he did, asking Pilate for the body (Mark 15:43). Joseph wasn’t a wimp. He didn’t shy away from controversy.

Who does something like that? Mark tells us Joseph of Arimathea “was also himself looking for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15:43). Joseph knew what it meant to be loyal. There was something about this King and this Kingdom that had left an impression on him. And if something leaves an impression on you, you tend not to forget. You tend to act.

It is Memorial Day weekend. It’s an old national holiday, dating back to shortly after the Civil War. People began decorating graves to remember those who perished during that conflict. It was a war that left its mark on people. When something leaves a mark like that, you’ve got to do something. So people began decorating tombstones. “Bring the flowers. Write a note of remembrance. Mark the day. Don’t forget.” The memory leads to action.

It’s not all that convenient, of course – buying flowers, driving to the cemetery, going out among the headstones, looking for names. It’s not all that convenient. It takes time. It takes money. The weather might be bad. So the practice of decorating graves has fallen on hard times in this country. Not many people do it anymore.

Will something like that happen on the church’s “memorial days”? May it never be.

Posted on by Chris Moon

2 Samuel 10 – The unlikely theologian

Read 2 Samuel 10.

You need to be careful about where you get advice. Don’t get advice from just anyone. Find an expert. Find someone who knows something or has experienced something you want to know or experience. You wouldn’t ask one of those panhandlers, holding the cardboard sign, looking sad down by the McDonald’s, for advice about how to further your career. No, that wouldn’t do. You wouldn’t ask an atheist up at the college for tips about how to draw closer to God. And you wouldn’t go to Joab – violent, vindictive, man-hunting Joab, the military commander for King David – for the finer points of biblical theology. It doesn’t make sense.

But here we are. The Bible takes us to strange places sometimes. A donkey talked once in the Bible. A prostitute did a noble thing one time. The Bible recorded it. And Joab teaches us theology. Who would have thought it?

It’s one reason you should come to Sunday School as often as you can. You won’t find any homeless panhandlers there, or atheists, or prostitutes, or donkeys – at least on most Sundays. But you won’t find any PhD Bible scholars either. Yet you may find wisdom and insight from the people who are there. God can speak to all of us through any one of us. It doesn’t matter who it is. God can speak through anyone, even the most unlikely.

The question is whether we are humble enough to listen. Some Christians aren’t.

Here, God speaks wisdom through Joab, an unlikely prophet. “Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him” (2 Samuel 10:12).That’s good theology – particularly that last part. “May the Lord do what seems good to him.” It’s good theology because it acknowledges God is capable of doing anything He wants, and we ought to leave it to God to do just that. The business of this world is God’s business, whether it is in the affairs of the natural world or in the affairs of men and women. He is the potter, and we are the clay (Jeremiah 18:6).

Joab proclaimed this truth. Any properly functioning follower of God will know this to be true and will live as if this is true. You can’t worship God without believing this truth. Your faith life simply won’t work without it. To be a believer, you must believe that God owns everything and that He can do anything He wants and that He ought to do what seems good to Him – not necessarily what seems good to us but what seems good to Him.

It’s the only way you’ll be able to sleep at night – when your spouse dies or your child dies or your business goes under or you lose your job or your whole world is rocked in some crazy way. To be a believer, you must consent to these words, this theological prayer of Joab: “May the Lord do what seems good to him.”

Of course, it’s a wonder we find these words on the lips of Joab. Joab so far in this recorded history of 1-2 Samuel has been a man who preferred to take matters into his own hands. “May the Lord do what seems good to him.” Joab didn’t seem to live by that most of the time. No, Joab seemed to do what seemed good to Joab.

You recall the murder of Abner, the top military man for King Saul (2 Samuel 3). Joab sliced open Abner’s belly in vengeance – after Abner reluctantly had killed Joab’s brother in battle. Joab did not let bygones be bygones. He kept his knife hidden when he pulled Abner aside at the city gates of Hebron.

You also can recall Abner, when he was assassinated by Joab, was helping King David unite the tribes of Israel. Abner almost certainly was in line for a prominent place in the united monarchy, and Joab would have known this. Joab’s position might have been in jeopardy because of Abner’s success. Vengeance and self-seeking are terrible companions.

We get the sense Jesus would have been disappointed in Joab. Joab wasn’t a noble man who was accustomed to turning the other cheek or declining to seek the best seat at the table (Matthew 5:39; Luke 14:8).

So here we are in 2 Samuel 10. Joab’s army was caught in the middle of two hostile forces. The Ammonites were on one side, and the Syrians and others were on the other. Joab told his brother, Abishai, to take some of the troops to fight the Ammonites. Joab would take the rest to fight the Syrians. It was a simple strategy. What else could be done? If either Abishai or Joab were overwhelmed by the enemy, his brother would come to help – or try to help.

It is important to remember Joab had no guarantee of victory on that day. There’s nothing in Scripture and nothing in Joab’s words to his troops that indicate the Israelite army would prevail. In the dust and the blood of the battle that day, Joab and his army could have been overwhelmed. Joab didn’t know. The moment was filled with uncertainty, like so many of our own moments.

Joab knew the big picture, however. He knew God favored Israel and had promised to bring the nation into peace and prosperity. The promise was an ancient one that Joab likely had known since childhood. Israel was God’s treasured possession, and God always was true to His promises. But the fact was God didn’t need the Israelites to win the battle that day outside that Ammonite city in order to make the big picture come to fruition. Joab knew this, too.

So all Joab could tell those anxious soldiers was: “Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him.” God can speak to all of us through any one of us.

Joab teaches us theology. An unlikely man has wisdom for us. It’s kind of surprising. Can we humble ourselves to listen to Joab – violent, vengeful Joab? Do you trust the will of God in your life? Do you leave room for it?

I was reminded what James, the half-brother of Jesus, told us (James 4:13-17). James said, “Don’t be so sure you’ll go over to that city and make a bunch of money or take that great vacation.” James called us a mist that’s here for a moment and then vanishes. No, James said, “You ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills …”

Leave room for God’s will. You don’t know what God’s will for you for today might be – even if you know that in the end, God works all things together for good for those who are called according to God’s purpose (Romans 8:18). We live our day-to-day lives in uncertainty even if the big picture is built on a cornerstone that cannot be moved.

So leave room in your life for God’s will. But don’t sit on your hands. That seemed to be the wisdom we get from our violent theologian, Joab. “Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him.” Joab was saying, “Let God do what seems good to Him. And in the meantime – Get to work. Go and fight. Don’t worry, and don’t run. Fight – to the last drop of blood.”

Maybe there’s a fine line that we need to walk, a road between two ditches. We should believe in the will of God, the all-surpassing power of God to do what He wants with His creation, including ourselves. We should desire God to do what seems good to Him. At the same time, we ought not to sit on our hands because of that belief. We still have things to do. We know the right thing to do. We ought to do it. Go and fight.

It’s a road between two ditches. Don’t fall into either ditch if you can avoid it. Don’t drop to the one side thinking God won’t do what seems good to Him – or that He can’t. If you do that, you’ll have to take everything into your own hands. It’s a lot of work and a lot of worry.

At the same time, don’t drop into the ditch on the other side of the road, thinking if God is going to do what seems good to Him, then you don’t have to do anything at all. If you do that, you’ll play no part in the kingdom of God at all. You won’t serve others. It’s a loveless existence.

Stay out of the ditches. We know God’s promises. But life is uncertain today. Do your best, and trust God to do what seems good to Him. Joab, our unlikely theologian, teaches us this.

A college friend of ours is in the hospital right now, needing lung and liver transplants. It might not happen. Our friend is suffering alone in the hospital. They’ve told him he could go home and be on hospice, but all the needed medications would have to stop. It would be “giving up,” so to speak. But our friend needs to make a decision. What difference would it make in his life to be able to pray, “May the Lord do what seems good to him”?

We listened to a graduation speaker the other day – a sports broadcaster named James Brown. He’s a faithful Christian. One time, early in his career, James Brown interviewed a so-called Christian pastor, on Easter, about the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The pastor said he thought the resurrection was a fable. At the end of the segment, James Brown turned to the camera and said, in essence, “Regardless of what this guy says, I do believe the resurrection is real.” James Brown made a decision. He did act. And it was risky for a journalist. Do you think he was able to pray, “May the Lord do what seems good to him”?

I talked to a Christian woman the other day whose son was applying for a job far from home. She didn’t want her son to move away. But her son was following his dream. Can a parent get on board with something like that? What should she say to her son? What difference would it make for her if she could pray, “May the Lord do what seems good to him”?

A man once was praying in a garden. “Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:36). Is it all that far off from Joab’s prayer? The cross was right at hand. It was coming just the next day, right over the hill. Excruciating suffering was staring our Lord in the face. He’d be abandoned by His disciples, His friends, His Father. Jesus knew it. But Jesus declared the preeminence of God’s will. “Father, do what seems good to you.” Can you hear Joab?

Our eternal lives depend upon this truth – “May the Lord do what seems good to him.” It seemed good to God to take on flesh, live a sinless life, and die on a Roman cross for our sins. It seemed good to God to offer the gift of salvation to us free of charge, by faith. It seemed good to God to grant eternal life to sinners like us.

It’s the big picture of our faith. But today? Life is uncertain. We don’t know whether we’ll live or die, whether we’ll get sick or be healed, whether we’ll enter bankruptcy or find wealth. We don’t know. We live in tension. But we can life by faith today. We can do the best thing we know to do right now. And we can pray, “May the Lord do what seems good to him.”

It’s good theology from an unlikely source.

Posted on by Chris Moon

2 Samuel 3 – The King who sings over us

Read 2 Samuel 3.

We attended the state swim meet last week. It was a big event – bigger than the other swim meets during the season, as you might expect. The venue was bigger than the others. The swimmers were bigger and faster. The officials were more official-looking, and more numerous. The stands were full of people. The air was full of anticipation. The stakes just felt bigger. This was where the best of the best came to perform their very best.

But it wasn’t the swimming I found most impressive at the state swim meet. No, it was the national anthem. It was sung by a young man whom we’ve heard sing before. One swimmer, a member of our own team, sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” for that crowd of anxious onlookers. His name is Dexter. He’s not yet a great swimmer. He’s short and a bit pudgy, just a freshman, 14 years old, still a boy and not a man. Dexter didn’t make the state swim meet to swim any races. But the powers-that-be wanted Dexter to be there anyway. They wanted to hear him sing.

Dexter has a great voice. It’s still the voice of a child; the hormones haven’t taken hold to deepen it. Dexter holds a steady pitch. He remains on key even while singing acapella. The vibrato is perfect. It’s a voice that catches your attention. You’ve heard a bad national anthem before, sung by someone who thinks he can sing but can’t. We’ve all heard that. Dexter’s is not that. It is near perfect.

And the fans know it. As Dexter sings, they look at each other. They look over at him. They grin. When Dexter holds out that iconic note at the end of the anthem – “… o’er the land of the FREE …” – it is totally perfect and sustained just long enough for you to know that he means it. He really means it. When Dexter finished at the state swim meet, the place erupted into applause and shouts. They knew this was good. I knew then that this was the best performance we would witness that day. All the fast swimming by those big and strong young men would not hold a candle to this – to Dexter singing his national anthem.

When you hear someone who sings well, you stop and appreciate it. The song makes you stop. You have to stop. You just listen. Nothing more. It’s a gift to you.

David sang over the dead body Abner. “Should Abner die as a fool dies?/Your hands were not bound;/your feet were not fettered;/as one falls before the wicked you have fallen.” It’s not enough to hear only the words. The words are helpful, but they aren’t enough. We need to hear it sung – by David – in the moment – behind the casket as they carried it down Main Street in Hebron – as the whole city walked in stunned silence, their cloaks torn, watching David cry – as the army shuffled in behind, embarrassed – as Joab, the general, kept his eyes glued to the ground, shamed for his wrongdoing, cursed.

I can picture all of that. But I want to hear David’s song. If only we could have heard it sung in that moment, then we would know a little more about this text and about this man, David, who was just coming into his kingdom.

David was a man of songs. David calmed King Saul with songs when the king was struggling with his evil spirit. David later composed and sang a song of lament for Saul and his son Jonathan as the nation mourned their deaths. And all along, David was writing songs that we know as the Book of Psalms. They are songs of lament and thanksgiving, about defeats and victories and enemies and friends. They are songs to be prayed. And sung.

But we don’t know the sound of David’s voice. We only have the words he wrote and the words he sang. I suppose that’s all God wanted us to have. But to hear it sung, in the moment – that would have been something. I bet we would have stopped to appreciate it. It would have been a gift.

David was lamenting the loss of Abner, who had been an enemy to David’s kingdom and only recently had become an ally. It is strange David felt so wounded about Abner’s death. After all, David was just getting to know the man. They’d spent years fighting one another.

After King Saul died, Abner had established another king to oppose David. Abner waged war against David’s army. Abner had plotted and strategized against David’s budding kingdom in Judah. Abner wasn’t necessarily an evil man. Scripture gives us evidence of a soft side to Abner. But Abner hadn’t been a friend to David. He’d been an enemy, opposed to David’s kingdom.

Abner had a change of heart when his own king accused him of misconduct. Abner likely was accused of trying to steal the kingdom away from his own king by taking control of the king’s harem. Abner was very offended by this. And it was this anger that turned Abner’s allegiance toward David. It wasn’t necessarily that Abner saw the genuine goodness of David or believed in his heart about the divine promises given to David. What we know is Abner was angry.

So Abner likely visited with David, at least in part, to secure his own place in the united tribes of Israel, under King David. Abner now was intent on bringing David’s kingdom into reality – and sticking it to Abner’s old boss. Abner began to negotiate with other tribes in Israel to put together a new alliance with David. Abner was serving as a broker, a peacemaker, a uniter.

Then Abner visited King David. It seemed to have been a good meeting. An agreement was reached. “So David sent Abner away, and he went in peace.” Abner was moving in the right direction – toward the kingdom of David. All was good – until Abner met with Joab at the city gate. Abner didn’t see the knife.

And David grieved. He wrote the song, and he sang it. I wish we could have heard it.

Here was Abner, a man who had turned toward David. He was a man who had turned toward the kingdom that was being established by God. Abner’s turning wasn’t a perfect turning. Abner’s motivations were mixed. He was angry and hurt by the one he had served so long. The kingdom of this world was hard and ungrateful. Abner learned that.

So Abner was turning to David. He was turning to the kingdom of God. Surely, David knew some things about Abner that we didn’t know. Because David announced at Abner’s death. “Do you not know that a prince and a great man has fallen this day in Israel?” We’re led to believe Abner was not far from the kingdom of God. He was an enemy who was becoming a friend. And David sang over him.

That reminded me. One of God’s prophets, a man named Zephaniah, wrote about the coming of God’s kingdom – what it will be like. Zephaniah wrote,

“The Lord your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
    he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).

We live in a messy world, and God is singing over it. It’s a world full of ambition, treachery, jealousy, competition, hatred, bitterness, anger, revenge, and murder. And God’s kingdom is coming.

God is rarely in a hurry. He is in total control. And His kingdom is coming. God gives us room to live in it. We are part of it. “Thy kingdom come,” Jesus taught us to pray. Some people are part of bringing the kingdom to fruition, and some people are attempting to pull it apart at the seams. And yet other people, they aren’t sure what they are doing – sometimes pulling, sometimes building, sometimes running away and shaking their fists, sometimes kneeling. 

Do you sense the world is like that? And God, if we could only stop long enough to hear Him, is singing over it. He’s not in a hurry. He has His own plans. He’s seen all of this before. There are songs to be sung about the people in His kingdom. “The Lord your God is in your midst. … He will exult over you with loud singing.”

At one point in Jesus’ ministry, he could hear His disciples talking with each other while they were walking down the road (Mark 9:33-37). I imagine they were behind Him, and Jesus just quietly listened. The disciples were having an argument. Hushed tones, but anxious and eager to be heard.

That night, after they arrived at the home where they were staying, Jesus asked them about it. “What were you discussing on the way?” No one said anything. You could have heard a pin drop. They’d been arguing about which one was the greatest. They were embarrassed to admit it, but that’s what they were doing. Of course, Jesus knew. And so Jesus told them that if anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.

Do you think the disciples understood? All this arguing, all this fighting, all this competition – What would it come to? The kingdom is coming. God is working on His own time, not ours. “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you” (2 Peter 3:9). Stop and listen. “The Lord your God is in your midst. … He will exult over you with loud singing.”

A short time after Abner was murdered, David was anointed king over all Israel. The long-awaited kingdom had come. Abner wasn’t needed as a broker. Joab wasn’t needed as a hammer. Abner’s anger and maneuvering – and Joab’s vindictiveness and insecurity – came to nothing. The kingdom came without them.

God doesn’t need you, and He doesn’t need me, to make His kingdom come. But He loves you, and He’s singing over you – even though you’re a bit like Abner sometimes. Your turning toward the kingdom of God may not be a perfect turning. You can plot and plan all you want. You can help things all you want. You can hinder things all you want. But God’s kingdom will come.

Still, He’s singing over you – God’s church.

Do you ever stop to listen?