Crippled

Crippled

            (Saul’s son Jonathan had a son named Mephibosheth, who was crippled in both feet. He was five years old when the news came from Jezreel that Saul and Jonathan were dead. Mephibosheth’s nurse had picked him up and ran away. But as she hurried to leave, she dropped him, and now he was lame ….)

The king asked, “Is anyone left in Saul’s family? I want to show God’s kindness to that person.” Ziba answered the king, “Jonathan has a son still living who is crippled in both feet.” The king asked Ziba, “Where is this son?” Ziba answered, “He is at the house of Makir son of Ammiel in Lo Debar.”

Then King David had servants bring Jonathan’s son from the house of Makir son of Ammiel in Lo Debar. Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son, came before David and bowed face down on the floor. David said, “Mephibosheth!” Mephibosheth said, “I am your servant.” David said to him, “Don’t be afraid. I will be kind to you for your father Jonathan’s sake. I will give you back all the land of your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table.”

Mephibosheth bowed to David again and said, “You are being very kind to me, your servant! And I am no better than a dead dog!” Then King David called Saul’s servant Ziba. David said to him, “I have given your master’s grandson everything that belonged to Saul and his family. You, your sons, and your servants will farm the land and harvest the crops. Then your family will have food to eat. But Mephibosheth, your master’s grandson, will always eat at my table.” (Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty servants.) Ziba said to King David, “I, your servant, will do everything my master, the king, commands me.” So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table as if he were one of the king’s sons. (2 Sam. 4:4; 9:3-11)

Family therapist, Paul Faulkner, tells the story of a man who took steps to adopt a troubled teenager. But you’d have to question his logic, because the girl was destructive, disobedient and dishonest. One day, she came home from school and thrashed the house looking for money. By the time the father arrived home from work, she was gone and the house was a complete wreck. Friends urged him not to finalize the adoption. “Let her go,” they said. “After all, she’s not really your daughter.” His response was simply, “Yes, I know. But I told her she was.”

God, too, made a covenant to adopt His people, and His covenant’s not invalidated by our rebellion, i.e., ransacking His house looking for something to steal. But it’s one thing to love us when we’re obedient and willing, but when we ruin his house and steal what’s His? But the father didn’t look at the wrecked house and say, “Come back when you’ve learned some respect, young lady!” And God doesn’t look at our frazzled lives and say, “I’ll die for you when you deserve it,” any more than David looked at Mephibosheth and say, “I’ll rescue you when you’ve learned to walk.”

(Saul’s son Jonathan had a son named Mephibosheth, who was crippled in both feet. He was five years old when the news came from Jezreel that Saul and Jonathan were dead. Mephibosheth’s nurse had picked him up and ran away. But as she hurried to leave, she dropped him, and now he was lame ….)

The parentheses around the verse are not a typographical error. Mephibosheth is bracketed into the Bible – literally. Frankly, the verse doesn’t tell us much, either: just his name (Mephibosheth); his calamity (he was dropped by his nurse); and his deformity (he was handicapped).

Mephibosheth was the son of Jonathan, and the grandson of Saul, the first king of Israel. Saul and Jonathan had been killed in battle, leaving the throne to be occupied by David. In those days, the new king often staked out his territory by “rubbing out” the family of the previous king. And although David had no intention of following this tradition, Saul’s family didn’t know that. So, they hurried to escape, and of special concern to them was little, five year old Mephibosheth since, upon the deaths of his father and grandfather, he was the presumptive heir to the throne. And, if David was intent on murdering Saul’s heirs, this boy would be first on his “hit list.” So the family got out of town. But in their haste, Mephibosheth slipped from the arms of his nurse, permanently damaging both feet. And for the rest of his life he would be handicapped – a cripple.

So, for nearly twenty years the young prince had lived far away, unable to walk to the king and way too fearful to talk to him. He was unable to help himself. Meanwhile, David’s kingdom was flourishing. Under his leadership, Israel grew to ten times its original size. He knew no defeat in battle, or insurrection in his court. Israel was at peace, the people were thankful, and David, the shepherd-made-king, did not forget his promise to Jonathan. You see, David and Jonathan had been legendary friends meeting its ultimate test the day David learned that Saul was trying to kill him. Jonathan pledged to save David, but asked his friend for one favor in return: “You must never stop showing your kindness to my family, even when the Lord has destroyed all your enemies from the earth.” (1 Sam. 20:14-15)

Now David, perhaps standing on the balcony overlooking his kingdom, was reminiscing about his friendship with Jonathan, and his promise. Perhaps David thought, “Had it not been for Jonathan saving my life, none of this would’ve happened.” Whatever his mood, David turned to his servants and said, “Is anyone still left in Saul’s family? I want to show kindness to that person for Jonathan’s sake!” David had been delivered, and now he wanted to return the favor.

A servant named Ziba knew of a descendant. “Jonathan has a son still living who is crippled in both feet.’ The king asked Ziba, ‘Where is this son?’ Ziba answered, ‘He is at the house of Makir son of Ammiel in Lo Debar.’” Just one sentence and David knew he had more than he’d bargained for. The boy was crippled in both feet, and who would’ve blamed David for asking Ziba, “Are there any other options, like any healthy family members?” Who would have faulted David for thinking, A cripple just won’t fit into the castle crowd. Only the elite walk these floors, and this kid can’t even walk! And what service can he provide? He has no wealth, no education, no training. And who knows what he looks like? All these years he’s been living in … what was it again? Lo Debar? Even the name means “barren place.” Surely there’s someone I can help who isn’t so needy.  But David’s only response was, “Where is this son?”

How long had it been since Mephibosheth had been referred to as a son? In all previous references he was called a cripple. Every mention of him thus far was followed by his handicap. But the words of David make no mention of his affliction. He doesn’t ask, “Where’s Mephibosheth, this problem child?” Rather, he asks, “Where’s this son?”

You know what it’s like, don’t you? Each time your name is mentioned, your calamity follows – kinda like Pig Pen in the Peanuts comic strip. “Have you heard from John lately? You know, the guy who got divorced?” Or, “We got a letter from Jerry. Remember him, the addict?” Or, “Sharon’s in town. What a shame she has to raise those kids alone.” Or, maybe, “I saw Melissa today. I don’t know why she can’t keep a job.” Your past follows you wherever you go, and Mephibosheth carried his stigma for twenty years. When people mentioned his name, they mentioned his problem. But when the king mentioned his name, he called him “son.” But let’s consider the matter from Mephibosheth’s perspective.     There’s a knock on the front door. Makir goes to answer it and there stands Ziba with an authoritative look on his face in his gardening cloths. He bluntly tells Makir the news: "David wants to see Mephibosheth. NOW!" And there sits middle-aged Mephibosheth, sitting on his mat in the corner of the room by the cool breeze of a window. Even in the heat of the day, however, he feels a cold chill run through his arms and back. Now, finally, after all of these years, David’s found him and his life is over.

“It’s not fair,” he thinks. I mean, it’d started out great: his father was prince Jonathan, and his grandfather was King Saul, the first great king of Israel and Judah. He was royalty, and royalty had its perks. When he was young, everything seemed to come his way - the gifts, the friends, and the fun - all because he was royalty. Back then he even had a royal name, "Mirab Baal," meaning "opponent of Baal." Baal was a false god. But now even his name was different: Mephibosheth – “Son of Shame," all because of that one day when his world was turned upside-down.

Back then he didn’t understand it all. Suddenly, the palace became a place of panic. Wives wept, and servants were white with fear. Mephibosheth remembered how his nurse came running up to him with a few things in her hand yelling, "Run, Mirab Baal - run for your life!" But he didn't understand. So, he ran with her as hard as he could, but his little five year old legs could only go so far. He had to stop. And in desperation, his nurse picked him up and, with Mirab Baal in her arms, she ran. But she didn't notice the chariot rut just in front of her, and as her ankle buckled and she fell, Mirab Baal flew out of her hands and landed on his back with a thud. But seeing that Mirab Baal appeared to be alright, she picked him up and kept on hobbling on her sore ankle. She had to get the young prince into hiding. But it was only a short while later when she discovered that Mirab Baal was hurt much worse than she thought. In exhaustion, she put him on the ground hoping that he would run for a time, but all he did was fall. She begged him to stand up, but he couldn't. His back was broken; his feet and his legs utterly useless.

On the day that his dad Prince Jonathan, and his grandpa King Saul died in battle, Mirab Baal's life went terribly wrong. His nurse took him to Lo Debar, a city far away from the palace. To further protect the now-dethroned heir apparent, his name was changed from Mirab Baal to Mephibosheth; after all who would be interested in a person with a name like "Son of Shame." He had to learn how to live without his legs. Oh, they were still there but they didn’t do anything. He had to learn to sit again. He had to learn to be carried by others. He had to learn to be cared for by others. And his nurse continued to care for him, but living in secret, without his dad, without his grandpa, was hard, very hard, and hard for a very long time.

It wasn't fair. He’d heard his grandpa had badly disobeyed God: King Saul, again and again, had tried to kill David whom God had chosen to be king. King Saul had even gone to a witch to see if he could get some spiritual advice. As a result, grandpa Saul died, and so did his dad, Prince Jonathan, and Mirab Baal, now Mephibosheth, was left for years to fend for himself. Now, Ziba was at the door. "King David wants to see Mephibosheth. NOW!" And just then, a flash of anger ripped through Mephibosheth's fear. How did King David hear that he was here, anyway? There was only one answer - Ziba! Ziba was in charge of taking care of his property, and Ziba wanted the property for himself. So what better way than to rat out Mephibosheth so that the new king would eliminate him and leave all the property to Ziba.

But there was nothing Mephibosheth could do. His legs didn’t work. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t fight. He could only face the end of his life with honor. He was cursed. Because of his grandfather, everything had gone wrong for him, and at times he’d wished he’d never been born a prince. But there was no way of changing that now. Ziba was at the door, and soldiers, the king’s soldiers no less, had forced their way in past Makir. They picked him up by the arms and placed him on the muddy floor of a chariot and the cross-country race began to the city of Jerusalem. Without legs to cushion the shock of the rough ride, Mephibosheth's entire body ached.

When they arrived, they put him on the floor, down the steps from the throne where King David was seated. Mephibosheth stretched out his hands and put his face to the ground not daring to even look at the king. He hoped that the sword would fall quickly to end his life. “I am your servant.” His fear’s understandable. Though he may have been told that David was kind, what assurances did he have? And though the emissaries surely said that David meant no harm, he was afraid. I mean, wouldn’t you be? The anxiety was on his face that faced the floor, and David’s first words to him were, “Don’t be afraid.”

You know, your King is known to say the same thing, because the most repeated command from the lips of Jesus is, “Fear not.” In fact, the command to not be afraid appears in every book of the Bible. Mephibosheth had been called, found and rescued, but he still needed assurance. Don’t we all.

During the early days of the Civil War, a Union soldier was arrested on charges of desertion. Unable to prove his innocence, he was condemned and sentenced to die a deserter’s death. His appeal found its way to the desk of Abraham Lincoln. The President felt mercy for the soldier and signed his pardon. The soldier thereafter returned to service, fought the entirety of the war and was killed in the very last battle. Found within his breast pocket was the signed letter from the President. You see, close to the heart of the solder were his leader’s words of pardon. He had found courage in grace.

And just as David kept his promise to Jonathan, so God keeps his promise to us. The name Mephibosheth means “Son of Shame.” And that’s exactly what David intended to correct for the young prince. In quick succession, David returned all of Mephibosheth’s land, crops, and servants, and then insisted that the cripple eat at the king’s table – not just once but four (4) times. “I will give you back all the land of your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table.” “But Mephibosheth, your master’s grandson, will always eat at my table.” “So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table as if he were one of the king’s sons.” “Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, because he always sat at the king’s table.”
(2 Sam. 9:7, 10, 11, 13)

Do you see your story in this? I see mine. We are children of royalty, crippled by the fall, permanently marred by sin, living parenthetical lives on earth only to be remembered by the King. Driven not by our beauty but by his promise, He calls us to Himself and invites us to take a permanent place at His table. And though we often limp more than we walk, we take our place next to the other sinners-made-saints and we share in God’s glory. Like Mephibosheth, we are sons and daughters of the King, and our greatest offering is nothing in comparison to what we’ve been given.

“Crippled” – it’s not a pejorative; it’s an adjective. It describes a noun. And you know what a noun is, don’t you? Right. A person, place or thing.

Grace,

Randy