A CRIPPLE AND A KING
by Dennis D. Nelson
Executive Director of Lutheran CORE
I am very grateful to God for the privilege and blessing of being able to live in a place and at a time where and when good medical care is available. The last few months both my wife and I have had orthopedic surgery. My wife had total hip replacement surgery in early August, and then because of a complication had to have a second surgery nine days later. I tried to be a good care giver. I developed a real sense of appreciation for the many people in our congregations who are care givers. As my wife was getting better every day, I also developed a real heart for people who are care givers for people who are not getting better.
Fortunately my wife continued to improve and was cleared for driving in time for me to have total knee replacement surgery in mid-October. She has now transferred her walker and cane to me.
Dealing with three orthopedic surgeries in just over two months, and all the limited mobility and physical therapy that they involve, I am very grateful to live in a place and at a time where and when good and rehabilitative orthopedic care is available. It also got me to thinking about a young man in the Bible who became lame from a very serious injury when he was only five years old. He did not have good orthopedic care. Rather his injury severely impacted the rest of his life. His story also speaks to me as I anticipate Reformation Sunday.
2 Samuel 9 tells of the time after David had united all twelve tribes into one glorious kingdom. He had defeated all his foes and is now living in peace and prosperity. As he is sitting on his throne, he begins to wonder if anyone in Saul’s family is still alive. He summons a man by the name of Ziba, who had been one of Saul’s servants.
No doubt Ziba is very suspicious when David asks, “Is there anyone remaining of the house of Saul to whom I may show the kindness of God?” Ziba knows full well that normally it would be a new king’s policy, once his own kingdom is secure, to eliminate anyone remaining from the former dynasty. For as long as even one person is still alive from the former family, that person could be a threat to the throne. But in spite of any misgivings Ziba still answers honestly. “There remains a son of Jonathan,” he says. But then, to downplay any notion that Mephibosheth could ever be a threat, he adds, “He is crippled in his feet.”
The king persists, “Where is he?” Ziba answers. “He is in the house of Machir son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar.” “At Lo-debar” – as if to say, “He lives across the river, way out in the sticks; I would not give him a second thought.” But the king persists, “As long as there is one descendant left, I want him brought here.” And so David sends for Mephibosheth, whom the Bible describes as “son of Jonathan son of Saul,” as if to remind us that this crippled boy is the only survivor of that half-crazed lunatic who had spent a big part of the best years of his life chasing a personal enemy, David.
2 Samuel 4: 4 tells us how Mephibosheth had become crippled. He was only five years old when the Israelites lost in battle to the Philistines and both his grandfather Saul and his father Jonathan were killed. As the news reached the king’s house Mephibosheth’s nurse picked him up and fled. In her haste to flee, the five-year-old fell and became lame.
Now – many years later – a crippled boy enters the throne room of the most powerful man in that part of the world. He falls on his face and does obeisance. I am sure that this was not a graceful bow. Rather it was a very scared teenager, who dropped his crutches and then fell face down flat on the floor in front of everyone. Lying there, shaking, wondering what was going to happen to him next.
But David leans forward and says, “Mephibosheth.” Somewhere from that crippled, disabled body, a very scared-sounding voice says, “I am your servant.” The King draws near. “Mephibosheth, you have absolutely no reason to be afraid of me. I asked you to come here so that I could be kind to you. I want to be kind to you because of the promise I made to your father, Jonathan. I loved your dad, and your dad loved me. So I want to show God’s kindness to you in any way that I can. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you yourself shall eat at my table always.” The astonished boy raises his head just enough for two very scared-looking eyes to peer out and for a very frightened voice to say, “Why would you care about a dead dog like me?” Tenth century B. C. Hebrew people had a very low view of dogs, and anything dead was vile and unclean. So for Mephibosheth to call himself a dead dog was basically to describe himself as a stinking pile of garbage.
He had known insults all his life. Mephibosheth was not even his real name. 1 Chronicles 8 and 9 tell us that his birth name was Merib-baal, which means “Hero of Baal.” In spite of its connection with a pagan deity, in the minds of many it was a name of honor. But as time went on, people began calling him not Merib-baal “Hero of Baal,” but Mephibosheth, which means “Man of Shame.” And so, as he lay on the floor before the king in his moment of greatest personal vulnerability, I have a feeling that a lifetime of name-calling and ridicule began flooding over him, as he heard once again all the humiliating insults that he had received from those who considered him to be worthless and despicable. Mephibosheth – Man of Shame. And so he said, “Why would you care about a dead dog like me?”
But the king did not treat him with the disdain that he was accustomed to. David repeats, “I loved your dad and your dad loved me. Because of my love for your dad and the promise I made to him, I want to give back to you everything that you have lost. Your grandfather’s houses and lands – from now on they will all be yours. And Ziba and his sons and servants will now be your servants.” But even with all that, the king had not finished lavishing his amazing grace upon this totally astonished, crippled boy. “Mephibosheth, all that is now yours. But I also want to give you one more thing. I want you to live in the palace with me. I want you to sleep in my house. And every evening, when I eat my dinner, I want you to be at the table with me.” Can you even imagine how all that must have sounded to a crippled Mephibosheth – a Man of Shame – as he was lying on the floor – totally amazed over the king’s grace?
Mephibosheth reminds me of a German monk by the name of Martin Luther who – when he discovered the Gospel – was also amazed over the Heavenly King’s grace. At first Luther was deathly afraid of God, because he saw God as a harsh judge who made demands and had a level of expectations that Luther would never be able to meet and satisfy. The harder he tried, the more he saw himself falling behind. But then – through his study of the Bible – he discovered the Gospel – that we are justified by His grace as a gift (Romans 3: 24). Through faith in Jesus and His death and resurrection we can receive forgiveness of sins, the hope of eternal life, and a sure and certain standing before God that we would never be able to achieve through our own efforts.
And you and I are like Mephibosheth. Before the King of Heaven drew us near, we were running from Him in brokenness and shame. Too scared to come into His presence because we were certain He would only judge and condemn. But one day He summoned us – or at a time of great personal need we came to Him, trembling. He responded in a way we never would have expected. He reached out and touched us and gently said, “Don’t be afraid. I want to give you back everything that you have lost because of sin. I want you to inherit all the riches of Heaven. And even more than that, I want you to be My child and live with Me forever.” When we protested, “Why would you bother with a worthless loser like me?” He answers, “Because I love you and because of the promises I made to you.”
Think for a moment about your life – your status – your being in the Kingdom of God. Why in the world would the King of Heaven want you at His family table? Is it because of your goodness, holiness, wonderful personality, or even your spiritual potential? The Bible answers with a very flat, unflattering No. As Romans 5 says: “Christ died for the ungodly.” Jesus did not die for good and deserving people. (Of which there aren’t any.) Rather “while we were sinners Christ died for us.” “While we were His enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son.”
Ephesians 2 – When we were dead in trespasses and sin, He loved us and made us alive. He raised us with Christ and gave us a seat at His heavenly dining room table. And all this He did because that’s just the kind of God He is and because of the promises He made to us. He specializes in restoring people who have been crippled by sin and giving them a place at His heavenly table.
Years later Mephibosheth had a young son whom he named Mica, which means, “Who is like the Lord?” Imagine the joy and gratitude that Mephibosheth must have felt at the time of the birth of his son. Perhaps he thought, “I never would have dreamed that I would live to see a day like today. Not only did I survive. I am richly blessed. I am a wealthy man. I am part of the family of the king. And now I have a family of my own. God has given me a son. Every time I look into the face of my boy, I will always ask myself, ‘Mica? Who is like the Lord?’” The answer, of course, is that nobody is like the Lord.
2 Samuel 9 concludes with these words. “Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, for he always ate at the king’s table.” And then it reminds us of Mephibosheth’s condition by adding, “He was lame in both his feet.”
We too are crippled in so many ways by sin. We too, like Mephibosheth, have been invited to become children of a King. Mica – Who is like the Lord? Like Mephibosheth, will we accept the invitation?
