Admiral Sun-sin Yi (1545-1598) was perhaps the greatest admiral of all time.
His feats matched and possibly surpassed Britain’s Nelson and soared far beyond
Nimitz. The Korean giant lived a life of warfare, victoriously leading Korea to
a great triumph over invading Japanese forces. Yet, he experienced great
personal pain in his life, of which nothing was greater than the death of his
son during the Japanese war. By divine providence, he recorded his emotions and
thoughts in his now famous diary Nanjung Ilgi. At
the age of 53, in the entrance on October 14th 1597, he wrote
some of the most heart-rending words ever read:
As soon as I saw the word ‘Wailing’, I knew my son was
killed. I felt myself collapse inside. I wailed and wailed, ‘How could this
happen to you?’
The sun lost its light; everything is dark.
My son, where did you go without me?
Did you die because of my sin?
I want to die right now so I can be with you under the
ground.
This night feels like a year.
The Son of Mourning
In 2
Samuel 12, we read that for his sin David was punished by God. The Lord said
that David son was to die. We read in verses 13-14:
Nathan
replied, “The Lord has taken away your
sin. You are not going to die. 14 But because by
doing this you have shown utter contempt for the Lord, the son born to you will die.”
His son
was struck down with illness, and for six days, the shadow of death was over
the boy. During that time, David fasted and prayed and pleaded to God for the
child. He would not eat; he would not get up from the ground. Then on the
seventh day, the boy died. Upon hearing this, David got up from the ground,
went to his house, and ate food. His servants were dazed, for while his son was
suffering he fasted and wailed, but now his son had died, he ate and did not
cry out. David said to his servants that as long as his son was alive, he
pleaded in the hope of mercy; but now his son was dead there was nothing to be
done. It is then David utters:
Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not
return to me. (v23)
Yet, we
cannot say that David believed that he was going to heaven to be with his son.
The context is far too dismal for that conclusion; nor is there a scintilla of
a comment pointing toward heavenly life for the child. The entire atmosphere
surrounding David’s son’s sufferings is that of coping with death’s presence.
David’s son who died did not represent hope to him but suffering and death
because of David’s sins. It is in that light we must understand David’s comment
that he was going to his son. David would die one day and go to his son, in the
ground, in Sheol, in the same way
that Admiral Yi wanted to go to his son under the ground.
David’s son was a type of
Christ.
God made him
who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become
the righteousness of God (2 Cor.5:21); God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of
sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in
the flesh (Rom.8:3)
Christ
the Son died in our place. He took upon himself our sin, so that God forgave us
and gave to us his righteousness.
The Son of
Comfort
David did
not have a death wish, and he was not
without hope. We read in verse 24 that he comforted his wife Bathsheba and they
had another son, Solomon. He, as we know, was the line of promise, through
which the Messiah came (Matt.1:6-7). He is the son of comfort. He was the son
of whom it is said, in verse 24, “Now the LORD loved him”. David, too, must
have been comforted.
So, as
much as my heart goes out to parents who desire hope, comfort, and consolation,
at the time of the death of a child, we cannot look to verse 23, for it is a
message of mourning, teaching us, typologically, about the Son of Mourning.
Yet, our hope is found, for us, in verse 24, for there we read of Solomon, who
was the type of the Son of Comfort, Jesus Christ, who brings to us eternal life
and joy. Amen!
best dad ever love m and t
ReplyDeleteFirst comment on this section of 2 Samuel I've heard. Johnny Mac just floated a wopper about this passage. Made a whole booklet no less.
ReplyDelete