2 Samuel Chapter 14

Absalom Returns to Jerusalem
A. Joab Intercedes for Absalom

1. (2 Samuel 14:1-3)
“So Joab the son of Zeruiah perceived that the king’s heart was concerned about Absalom. And Joab sent to Tekoa and brought from there a wise woman, and said to her, ‘Please pretend to be a mourner, and put on mourning apparel; do not anoint yourself with oil, but act like a woman who has been mourning a long time for the dead. Go to the king and speak to him in this manner.’ So Joab put the words in her mouth.”

Joab, the son of Zeruiah, was perceptive enough to recognize that King David’s heart longed after Absalom, even though the relationship between father and son had been broken since Amnon’s death. David’s heart was torn between justice and mercy. On one hand, Absalom had committed murder; on the other, he was still David’s son. Joab, known for his loyalty and political cunning, saw that David’s unresolved grief could eventually affect his leadership. Acting shrewdly, Joab devised a plan to bring about reconciliation. He sent for a wise woman from Tekoa, instructing her to present a story that would mirror David’s situation. Her wisdom and feigned mourning would soften the king’s heart and lead him to pronounce judgment in a case similar to his own.

This strategy reveals Joab’s ability to manipulate circumstances for what he believed was the greater good of the kingdom. Though his motives may not have been purely spiritual, Joab recognized that a divided royal household could lead to instability. David’s indecision needed resolution, and Joab’s approach forced him to confront what he had avoided. The woman’s disguise and fabricated story served as a mirror through which David would be compelled to see his own failure to act. Joab understood that logic alone would not sway David, but emotional appeal through a woman’s story might.

2. (2 Samuel 14:4-11)
“And when the woman of Tekoa spoke to the king, she fell on her face to the ground and prostrated herself, and said, ‘Help, O king!’ Then the king said to her, ‘What troubles you?’ And she answered, ‘Indeed I am a widow, my husband is dead. Now your maidservant had two sons; and the two fought with each other in the field, and there was no one to part them, but the one struck the other and killed him. And now the whole family has risen up against your maidservant, and they said, “Deliver him who struck his brother, that we may execute him for the life of his brother whom he killed; and we will destroy the heir also.” So they would extinguish my ember that is left, and leave to my husband neither name nor remnant on the earth.’ Then the king said to the woman, ‘Go to your house, and I will give orders concerning you.’ And the woman of Tekoa said to the king, ‘My lord, O king, let the iniquity be on me and on my father’s house, and the king and his throne be guiltless.’ So the king said, ‘Whoever says anything to you, bring him to me, and he shall not touch you anymore.’ Then she said, ‘Please let the king remember the LORD your God, and do not permit the avenger of blood to destroy anymore, lest they destroy my son.’ And he said, ‘As the LORD lives, not one hair of your son shall fall to the ground.’”

When the woman of Tekoa appeared before David, she prostrated herself and cried, “Help, O king!” This was the customary plea for justice when someone appealed directly to the monarch after exhausting all local judicial options. Her case appeared desperate and sympathetic: as a widow, she had lost her husband and now faced losing her only remaining son, the last heir to her family’s name. She told David that one of her sons had killed the other in a quarrel and that the family now sought to avenge the death through the execution of the surviving son. If they succeeded, her husband’s lineage would be wiped from the earth.

David, touched by her plight, immediately showed compassion. He promised to issue an order in her favor, thus shielding her son from death. When the woman pressed further, invoking the name of the LORD, David swore, “As the LORD lives, not one hair of your son shall fall to the ground.” This response displayed David’s mercy, but it also exposed his tendency to let emotion override justice. In his role as king, David was responsible for upholding righteousness and ensuring justice in Israel, yet his compassion here blinded him to the legal implications of the case. Joab had skillfully set a trap, knowing that once David pronounced judgment in this fabricated story, it would be impossible for him to deny mercy to his own son under similar circumstances.

The “avenger of blood” mentioned by the woman refers to the law established in passages such as Numbers 35:19, which says, “The avenger of blood himself shall put the murderer to death; when he meets him, he shall put him to death.” God’s law made provision for justice through the avenger of blood, but it also provided mercy through the cities of refuge, as stated in Numbers 35:11, “Then you shall appoint cities to be cities of refuge for you, that the manslayer who kills any person accidentally may flee there.” The woman’s case blurred these lines intentionally, creating moral confusion that would lead David to act based on compassion rather than divine law.

David’s statement, “As the LORD lives, not one hair of your son shall fall to the ground,” was the turning point Joab and the woman anticipated. It revealed how David’s emotions could compromise his kingly duty. In the process, David showed the same inconsistency he had displayed in the case of Amnon — willing to forgive or overlook great sin when it involved his family, but quick to execute judgment when others were involved.

This passage teaches a sobering lesson about leadership and discernment. Personal sentiment and justice must never be confused. Mercy is righteous when tempered by truth, but mercy that disregards God’s standards becomes compromise. The Apostle Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 5:21, “I charge you before God and the Lord Jesus Christ and the elect angels that you observe these things without prejudice, doing nothing with partiality.” David failed in this regard, showing favoritism to his own, and it would later contribute to greater tragedy within his household.

3. (2 Samuel 14:12–17)
“Therefore the woman said, ‘Please, let your maidservant speak another word to my lord the king.’ And he said, ‘Say on.’ So the woman said: ‘Why then have you schemed such a thing against the people of God? For the king speaks this thing as one who is guilty, in that the king does not bring his banished one home again. For we will surely die and become like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. Yet God does not take away a life; but He devises means, so that His banished ones are not expelled from Him. Now therefore, I have come to speak of this thing to my lord the king because the people have made me afraid. And your maidservant said, “I will now speak to the king; it may be that the king will perform the request of his maidservant. For the king will hear and deliver his maidservant from the hand of the man who would destroy me and my son together from the inheritance of God.” Your maidservant said, “The word of my lord the king will now be comforting; for as the angel of God, so is my lord the king in discerning good and evil. And may the LORD your God be with you.”’”

The woman of Tekoa’s parable had achieved its purpose, and now she applied its lesson directly to King David. With skill and courage, she turned the mirror of her own story toward him and said, “Why then have you schemed such a thing against the people of God?” Her tone was humble, yet the words carried deep conviction. She charged David with hypocrisy, implying that he had condemned himself by sparing her fictional son while refusing to show mercy to his own. Through this carefully crafted argument, Joab and the woman revealed David’s inconsistency — he was quick to show compassion toward a stranger but slow to forgive his son.

a. “The king does not bring his banished one home again.”
Here, the woman rebuked David’s failure to act. Absalom had been exiled for years, his heart hardening against his father. The woman exposed the king’s negligence as not merely personal but national in consequence, for a bitter Absalom could become a danger to Israel. Her question, “Why then have you schemed such a thing against the people of God?” revealed that David’s refusal to reconcile was not only emotional weakness but also a failure of leadership.

David’s responsibility as both father and king demanded that he take initiative, not to ignore justice, but to seek reconciliation through righteousness. His silence was passive disobedience, for the estrangement between him and Absalom festered into rebellion. The woman’s words were prophetic in tone, though she did not fully understand their future implications. Her reasoning touched David’s heart, but his response would still fall short of God’s standard. As Matthew Henry noted, “He could easily pardon the meanest subject at the plea of a widow, yet withheld forgiveness from his own son.”

b. “For we will surely die and become like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again.”
This statement struck David with profound truth. The woman reminded him of life’s brevity and the irreversible nature of death. Her words meant that opportunities for reconciliation are fleeting — once life is gone, so too is the chance to make things right. The poetic image of “water spilled on the ground” emphasizes how quickly time passes and how impossible it is to recover what is lost. The Apostle Paul later echoed this principle in Ephesians 4:26, saying, “Be angry, and do not sin: do not let the sun go down on your wrath.” David’s delay endangered both his household and his kingdom, for resentment allowed sin to multiply unchecked.

Her counsel urged immediate action: “Do it now.” Reconciliation postponed is often reconciliation lost. David’s hesitation mirrored the human tendency to avoid painful confrontation, yet such avoidance only deepens division.

c. “Yet God does not take away a life; but He devises means, so that His banished ones are not expelled from Him.”
In this verse, the woman unknowingly spoke one of the clearest pictures of the gospel found in the Old Testament. Her plea to David, “Find a way, as God does,” contained a theological truth far greater than she realized. Indeed, God devised a way to reconcile sinful humanity to Himself without compromising His holiness or justice. As the Apostle Paul wrote in Romans 5:8, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

The woman’s statement presents the heart of divine redemption: God does not ignore justice; He satisfies it. The cross of Jesus Christ is the means by which the banished are restored. The holiness of God demanded judgment for sin, yet His love provided substitution through the death of His Son. Through this act, mercy and truth met together, righteousness and peace kissed each other, as written in Psalm 85:10, “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.”

Her words reflect a profound theological principle — reconciliation with God is not a matter of dismissing guilt but of resolving it through atonement. In David’s case, reconciliation with Absalom would require wisdom that balanced mercy with justice. However, David’s reconciliation would later fail because it lacked that balance. He allowed sentiment to override moral structure, and the result was national disaster.

d. “For as the angel of God, so is my lord the king in discerning good and evil.”
In her final appeal, the woman flattered David’s discernment, comparing him to an angel of God. This phrase was meant to soften the confrontation by reminding David of his reputation for wisdom and righteousness. Ironically, it exposed his moral blindness in this matter — a king who was normally discerning had let emotion cloud his judgment.

David’s responsibility was greater than the woman’s flattery implied. As king, he stood as God’s representative on earth, entrusted with upholding both mercy and justice. Yet, just as God’s mercy operates only in harmony with His holiness, David’s forgiveness should have been exercised within the boundaries of truth.

The woman’s speech was divinely permitted to expose David’s inconsistencies and foreshadow the gospel truth that ultimate reconciliation would come through God’s own righteous means — the substitutionary death of Christ. The Lord’s plan for the banished sinner is perfectly embodied in 2 Corinthians 5:18–19, “And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation; to wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.”

David, though moved by the woman’s wisdom, would fail to follow God’s pattern of reconciliation through righteousness. His eventual reunion with Absalom would be incomplete, rooted in political expediency rather than true restoration, leading to tragedy later in Israel’s history.

4. (2 Samuel 14:18–20)
“Then the king answered and said to the woman, ‘Please do not hide from me anything that I ask you.’ And the woman said, ‘Please, let my lord the king speak.’ So the king said, ‘Is the hand of Joab with you in all this?’ And the woman answered and said, ‘As you live, my lord the king, no one can turn to the right hand or to the left from anything that my lord the king has spoken. For your servant Joab commanded me, and he put all these words in the mouth of your maidservant. To bring about this change of affairs your servant Joab has done this thing; but my lord is wise, according to the wisdom of the angel of God, to know everything that is in the earth.’”

After listening to the woman’s persuasive story, David’s keen discernment surfaced. He began to suspect that this dramatic appeal was not entirely her own doing. With the authority and perception of a seasoned king, he confronted her directly, saying, “Is the hand of Joab with you in all this?” His question exposed how well he knew Joab’s character. David recognized that such an elaborate parable, designed to provoke a specific emotional and moral response, had the general’s strategic hand behind it.

a. “Is the hand of Joab with you in all this.”
David’s suspicion was accurate. Joab’s reputation for cunning and manipulation was well known. While Joab was fiercely loyal to David, his loyalty often served his own ambitions and understanding of what was best for the kingdom. Joab had no scruples about using deception or subtle manipulation to achieve what he believed to be the right outcome. This question reveals David’s perceptiveness but also his weakness — he knew Joab’s methods but tolerated them because Joab got results.

b. “He put all these words in the mouth of your maidservant.”
The woman immediately confessed the truth. Her admission confirmed Joab’s orchestration and demonstrated her obedience to his instruction. Joab had indeed “put all these words in her mouth,” meaning he scripted the entire appeal, knowing exactly how to reach David’s conscience. Joab’s manipulation was tactical, not spiritual. He desired reconciliation not because of repentance or righteousness, but to stabilize the political situation.

Joab’s actions, though successful in achieving David’s agreement, illustrate how human schemes often produce incomplete results when divorced from godly wisdom. Joab sought reconciliation through deception, but true reconciliation requires truth and repentance. His approach mirrored worldly pragmatism — achieving peace through manipulation rather than through righteousness.

The woman’s flattery of David, calling him “wise, according to the wisdom of the angel of God,” was both acknowledgment and appeasement. It soothed the tension of her confession while reminding David of his God-given discernment. Ironically, this same discernment exposed Joab’s scheme but did not move David to correct Joab’s manipulation. David’s tolerance of Joab’s methods would continue to cause trouble in his reign, showing that partial discernment without righteous action is incomplete obedience.

5. (2 Samuel 14:21–24)
“And the king said to Joab, ‘All right, I have granted this thing. Go therefore, bring back the young man Absalom.’ Then Joab fell to the ground on his face and bowed himself, and thanked the king. And Joab said, ‘Today your servant knows that I have found favor in your sight, my lord, O king, in that the king has fulfilled the request of his servant.’ So Joab arose and went to Geshur, and brought Absalom to Jerusalem. And the king said, ‘Let him return to his own house, but do not let him see my face.’ So Absalom returned to his own house, but did not see the king’s face.”

Having uncovered Joab’s involvement, David nevertheless granted the request. Whether motivated by compassion, exhaustion, or political calculation, David allowed Absalom to return to Jerusalem. Yet his mercy was half-hearted. David said, “Let him return to his own house, but do not let him see my face.” The estrangement was technically ended, but the relationship was not restored.

a. “Bring back the young man Absalom.”
Joab achieved his goal. He bowed before David, expressing gratitude and satisfaction that his plan had succeeded. Joab’s intent was pragmatic — he sought to neutralize the potential danger of Absalom’s exile. Joab knew that unresolved bitterness could lead to rebellion. Bringing Absalom back was, in his mind, a means of preventing civil unrest. Yet his solution addressed the surface problem, not the spiritual one. Absalom’s heart remained unrepentant, and David’s partial forgiveness only fueled deeper resentment.

b. “Let him return to his own house, but do not let him see my face.”
David’s decision exposed his internal conflict. He wanted to appear merciful while maintaining a form of justice. However, this “middle ground” produced neither. David’s failure to fully reconcile with Absalom left a wound festering in both hearts. The king’s refusal to meet his son reflected unresolved bitterness and fear. Scripture warns of this kind of partial forgiveness in Ephesians 4:26–27, “Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: neither give place to the devil.” David’s lingering resentment opened the door for greater evil — Absalom’s rebellion.

In the earlier case of Amnon, David had been too lenient, showing anger but taking no action. Now, with Absalom, he swung to the opposite extreme. Instead of extending fatherly love and offering righteous correction, he chose isolation. This imbalance demonstrates how inconsistent discipline in the home leads to instability in relationships. Parents who fail to establish consistent boundaries early often attempt to compensate later through harshness, provoking further rebellion. This principle is echoed in Ephesians 6:4, “And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”

David’s behavior as a father mirrored his weakness as a ruler — hesitant to confront sin properly and prone to emotional decisions. True reconciliation always requires both mercy and truth, both love and correction. David granted return without restoration, forgiveness without fellowship. This half-measure would set the stage for Absalom’s bitterness to mature into full-scale revolt.

B. Absalom Gains an Audience with His Father

1. (2 Samuel 14:25–27)
“Now in all Israel there was no one who was praised as much as Absalom for his good looks. From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him. And when he cut the hair of his head—at the end of every year he cut it because it was heavy on him—when he cut it, he weighed the hair of his head at two hundred shekels according to the king’s standard. To Absalom were born three sons, and one daughter whose name was Tamar. She was a woman of beautiful appearance.”

Absalom was the picture of outward perfection, a man whose appearance captivated the hearts of the people. Scripture records that “in all Israel there was no one who was praised as much as Absalom for his good looks.” His beauty was flawless, from head to toe, and such outward excellence fueled both admiration and pride. Just as Israel had once been drawn to King Saul for his physical stature and charm, so too the nation now looked upon Absalom as the ideal successor to David. Outward appearance once again clouded spiritual discernment, for Israel had not learned the lesson that “the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).

a. “In all Israel there was no one who was praised as much as Absalom for his good looks.”
This detail reveals the early seeds of Absalom’s political success. His beauty, charm, and royal lineage made him the darling of the people, but his heart was corrupt. Like his grandfather Saul, Absalom relied upon outward appeal rather than inner character. The hearts of men are easily swayed by beauty and charisma, but such traits often mask deep spiritual emptiness. Absalom’s magnetism won admiration, yet it would soon lead Israel into rebellion.

Moreover, Absalom’s position gave him political significance. He was the third son of David, following Amnon and Chileab. Amnon had been murdered by Absalom himself, and Scripture records nothing more about Chileab, who likely died young. This made Absalom the heir apparent — the next in line for the throne of Israel (2 Samuel 3:2–5). He was young, handsome, and of royal blood, and his ambition matched his charm. Every circumstance seemed to align for his rise to power, but his self-centered motives would soon become clear.

b. “He weighed the hair of his head at two hundred shekels according to the king’s standard.”
Absalom’s hair became both his glory and his downfall. Scripture notes that every year he cut it because it was heavy, and that the cuttings weighed two hundred shekels, or roughly five and a half pounds. This was not merely a statement about his grooming habits — it was a symbol of vanity. His long, luxurious hair was his pride, the visible mark of his attractiveness and self-importance.

As Proverbs 16:18 warns, “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” Absalom’s hair would later become the very instrument of his death, entangling him in the branches of an oak tree as he fled from battle (2 Samuel 18:9–15). His outward glory became his snare, a powerful reminder that pride always precedes judgment. The commentary of Redpath is apt: “He was extremely proud of his long hair, and he lost his life because of it.” Absalom’s pride blinded him to the humility that God requires of true leaders.

c. “One daughter whose name was Tamar.”
Absalom’s decision to name his daughter Tamar demonstrates that he still carried deep affection and grief over his sister’s violation by Amnon. This act of naming was an emotional memorial, preserving her name and honor within his household. It reveals that Absalom was not entirely devoid of compassion — he had deep feelings, but they were often misdirected. His anger toward Amnon and his bitterness toward David had never been resolved in godly repentance, only in vengeance.

The name Tamar, meaning “palm tree,” symbolized beauty and uprightness. By giving this name to his daughter, Absalom perhaps sought to redeem his sister’s shame through remembrance. Yet, like so much of Absalom’s life, even this act of sentiment would not purify his heart. His compassion lacked humility, his grief lacked repentance, and his remembrance of wrongs would fuel rebellion rather than forgiveness.

The emphasis on Absalom’s appearance, hair, and family marks a turning point in the narrative. The focus shifts from his exile to his growing pride and influence. He had been allowed back into Jerusalem, but not back into fellowship with his father. This unresolved estrangement provided fertile soil for pride to grow into rebellion. Absalom’s charm and beauty became his greatest tools of manipulation, foreshadowing the dangerous rise of a man who would soon capture the hearts of Israel through appearance rather than character.

2. (2 Samuel 14:28–32)
“And Absalom dwelt two full years in Jerusalem, but did not see the king’s face. Therefore Absalom sent for Joab, to send him to the king, but he would not come to him. And when he sent again the second time, he would not come. So he said to his servants, ‘See, Joab’s field is near mine, and he has barley there; go and set it on fire.’ And Absalom’s servants set the field on fire. Then Joab arose and came to Absalom’s house, and said to him, ‘Why have your servants set my field on fire?’ And Absalom answered Joab, ‘Look, I sent to you, saying, “Come here, so that I may send you to the king, to say, ‘Why have I come from Geshur? It would be better for me to be there still.’ Now therefore, let me see the king’s face; but if there is iniquity in me, let him execute me.”’”

For two full years, Absalom lived in Jerusalem without seeing his father’s face. Though geographically near, spiritually and relationally, he remained as distant as ever. The partial reconciliation David had granted produced no healing; it only deepened resentment. David’s half-hearted forgiveness created a state of limbo in which Absalom’s pride and bitterness festered.

a. “Absalom dwelt two full years in Jerusalem, but did not see the king’s face.”
This verse captures the tragic heart of the situation. David had allowed Absalom to return from exile but refused to restore fellowship. There was proximity without peace, presence without reconciliation. Such incomplete forgiveness is poison to the soul. Instead of resolving the conflict, David’s silence and avoidance hardened his son’s heart.

Absalom’s inner bitterness grew stronger with each passing year. His self-justification in murdering Amnon only reinforced his pride. He believed he had avenged his sister’s honor and that his actions were righteous. Meanwhile, David’s unwillingness to face him only confirmed Absalom’s sense of being wronged. What began as strained silence soon became rebellion.

David’s mistake serves as a solemn lesson for fathers and leaders alike: reconciliation requires courage, truth, and grace. It cannot remain partial. Scripture commands in Ephesians 4:31–32, “Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” David’s failure to embody that forgiveness produced spiritual rot in his household.

b. “Joab’s field is near mine, and he has barley there; go and set it on fire.”
In frustration and arrogance, Absalom took a drastic step. When Joab ignored his repeated requests to intercede with the king, Absalom ordered his men to burn Joab’s barley field. This act of destruction vividly displayed his manipulative and violent nature. Absalom did not appeal through reason or humility but through intimidation and outrage. He got attention by force — a trait that would later define his political ambition.

This moment exposes Absalom’s moral corruption. Instead of repentance, he responded to rejection with vengeance. Rather than humbling himself like the prodigal son who confessed, “I have sinned against heaven and before thee” (Luke 15:18), Absalom responded with defiance. The contrast is striking: the prodigal son returned with humility and was received with compassion, while Absalom returned with pride and demanded recognition. His heart was still hardened against both his father and God.

Yet this act also holds a spiritual principle for believers. As Charles Spurgeon insightfully remarked, “Sometimes God gets our attention by setting our barley-field on fire.” When we resist His call, He may allow trials or losses to awaken us. Just as fire consumed Joab’s barley, so too can divine providence consume our earthly comforts to draw us toward repentance. God, in His mercy, sometimes burns away what we cling to most so that we might look upward again. As Psalm 119:67 says, “Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word.”

Joab’s immediate reaction was predictable — he came angrily to Absalom’s house. Yet his presence fulfilled Absalom’s plan. The rebellious son achieved his goal by sinful means, manipulating even his father’s general to gain access to the king.

c. “If there is iniquity in me, let him execute me.”
Absalom’s statement before Joab reveals his warped sense of justice and self-righteousness. His words sound noble — “If I am guilty, let him kill me” — but they were not spoken in humility. Absalom did not believe he was guilty at all. His demand was a challenge, not a confession. He believed his actions were justified vengeance, and his father’s refusal to meet him was unjust.

This defiance exposes Absalom’s blindness to his own sin. True repentance always begins with self-awareness and a broken spirit. As Psalm 51:17 teaches, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” Absalom possessed neither. His pride cloaked itself in moral language, but his heart was still rebellious.

David’s continued silence and Absalom’s growing defiance created a perfect storm. The seeds of rebellion had now taken root. The son who longed for his father’s recognition would soon conspire to steal his throne. What began as a burned barley field would end as a nation in flames.

3. (2 Samuel 14:33)
“So Joab went to the king and told him. And when he had called for Absalom, he came to the king and bowed himself on his face to the ground before the king. Then the king kissed Absalom.”

After two years of silent estrangement, the tension between David and Absalom finally broke. Joab, whose barley fields had been burned in frustration, once again acted as the intermediary. He went to the king, spoke on Absalom’s behalf, and persuaded David to allow an audience. Absalom came before his father, bowed respectfully, and received a kiss from the king — a public sign of reconciliation. Yet though the gesture was outwardly peaceful, it was inwardly hollow. The scene was filled with ceremony but empty of repentance, justice, or true restoration.

a. “So Joab went to the king and told him.”
Absalom’s manipulation achieved its purpose. His reckless act of burning Joab’s barley fields forced the general to act. The same fiery arrogance that had driven Absalom to avenge his sister’s rape now compelled him to defy convention again. This act demonstrated both his boldness and his moral corruption — yet it worked. Joab, angered but practical, chose to settle the matter by securing Absalom’s audience with the king.

Joab’s role here is revealing. He was not motivated by righteousness, but by expediency. Joab’s loyalty to David was political rather than moral. He sought peace in the royal household not by truth, but by manipulation. The outcome of such human schemes without divine wisdom always leads to greater conflict. Though the reunion appeared successful, the underlying sin remained unresolved, and peace built upon deceit cannot endure.

b. “He came to the king and bowed himself on his face to the ground.”
Absalom’s bow was an act of outward submission, not inward repentance. He played the part of a dutiful son, but his heart was unchanged. The bow was political, not spiritual. His humility was feigned, masking resentment and ambition. David, having withheld fellowship for years, mistook this outward gesture for genuine submission.

The two-year silence had left its mark. Absalom’s bitterness had matured into contempt. Instead of drawing him closer to his father, David’s partial forgiveness had hardened his heart. This false reconciliation only deepened the fracture between them. As Jesus said in Matthew 15:8, “This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me.” Absalom’s bow reflected that very hypocrisy — respect in appearance, rebellion in spirit.

c. “Then the king kissed Absalom.”
The kiss, in ancient custom, symbolized full reconciliation. David’s kiss should have been the culmination of forgiveness grounded in confession and repentance. Yet there had been no confession, no repentance, and no justice served for Amnon’s murder. David’s kiss was therefore sentimental, not spiritual. He offered forgiveness without truth, affection without accountability.

As a father, David longed to embrace his son; as king, he had the duty to uphold justice. He failed in both roles. By choosing emotion over righteousness, David repeated the same pattern that had plagued his household — permissiveness where discipline was required. The same weakness that caused him to ignore Amnon’s sin now led him to excuse Absalom’s. What David called mercy was, in fact, compromise.

Proverbs 10:12 teaches, “Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.” While this is true in personal relationships, David’s situation as king was not purely personal. He was God’s appointed ruler and the chief judge of Israel. His duty demanded that sin be dealt with righteously, not ignored. David confused paternal affection with divine justice, and this confusion would soon erupt into national crisis.

As the commentator John Trapp observed, “He should have kicked him rather; and not have hardened him to further villainy.” David’s misplaced mercy only emboldened Absalom. The kiss that should have signified peace became the spark that ignited rebellion.

Alan Redpath insightfully wrote, “David’s forgiveness of Absalom was completely inadequate, leading to a further outbreak of sin. God’s forgiveness of a man’s soul is completely adequate, and a great deterrent to continued sin.” The difference lies in the foundation. Divine forgiveness is not mere sentiment; it is rooted in righteousness. God’s mercy never bypasses justice — it satisfies it through the cross. As Romans 3:26 declares, “That he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”

Redpath also warned, “May God write it on your soul: if the pardon you want is that God should wink at your sin, He will not do it.” True forgiveness requires repentance and the satisfaction of justice. God’s grace never excuses sin but conquers it through the blood of Christ. David’s indulgent pardon, by contrast, excused sin without addressing it — and that false peace would soon destroy his kingdom.