4-minute read
I’d like to tell you my favorite Bible story…
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there was a man named Mephibosheth.
Mephibosheth lived hidden far far away because he was full of shame… and full of fear.
His shame came from the fact that both of his feet were lame, bent, and broken. When he was just a baby, word came to his nanny that his father had been killed. As the nanny fled with the baby in her arms, she tripped and dropped him in such a way that his feet completely shattered. Poor Mephibosheth (whose name literally means, “from the mouth of shame”) lived under a constant cloud of humiliation and ignominy because of his disability.
He was also constantly full of fear. The fear came from the fact that there was a new king on the throne of the kingdom. The ascension of this new king was bad news for Mephibosheth because Mephibosheth’s grandfather had been the prior king and, on many occasions, his grandfather had tried to kill the man who was now king.
Mephibosheth also knew that when a new king took the throne, he was sure to wipe out any remaining members of his predecessor’s family in order to assure no upstarts showed up out of nowhere, committed to taking the throne back by force.
Daily, Mephibosheth wondered if he would ever be found, as he hid out in someone else’s house, at the outer reaches of the kingdom, way out in Lo Debar (which literally meant, “the middle of nowhere.”)
Shame and fear dominated the life of poor Mephibosheth.
*****
What Mephibosheth did not know is that king who had just taken over the throne—King David—was a good king. Not just a good king, but a very good king. He was such a good king, he’d been referred to as “a man after God’s own heart.” God’s kindness, goodness, and benevolent nature were abundantly evident in King David.
What’s more, God’s hand of power and guidance was on King David.
After the death of both King Saul (Mephibosheth’s grandfather) and Jonathan (Mephibosheth’s father), David (a former shepherd, warrior, and servant of King Saul) became king and right away went on a tear, defeating the enemies of the Kingdom of the nation of Israel. Down went their attackers, down went their oppressors, down went all who challenged God’s good kingdom.
When there were no enemies left to face, King David sat on his throne and had himself a good long think. But his thoughts didn’t drift towards who else he could destroy—like any remaining family members of the previous king.
No. Good King David sat and thought about to whom he could show kindness. Particularly, anyone left from the family of King Saul’s son, Jonathan.
See, though King Saul constantly wanted to find ways to kill David, Saul’s son Jonathan became David’s good friend. Jonathan knew that, one day, David would become God’s anointed king and would replace his father who—everyone knew, including his son—had gone mad and walked away from following the LORD.
Jonathan committed himself to protecting David from King Saul’s ire and anger in exchange for one thing. Jonathan asked David to promise him that when he became king, he would look kindly on anyone “in the line” of Jonathan.
Being a man after God’s own heart, David held to his word. (Not only that, but David so loved Jonathan that he wanted nothing less than to do something good for someone—anyone—from his line.)
So, after considering all of this, King David called for his servant Ziba. He asked him, “Is there anyone still left from the house of Saul to whom I can show kindness?”
Ziba (who’s name may not literally mean “weaselly guy” but very well could) said, “Well… heh, heh… I mean…”
King David: “Spit it out, Ziba.”
Ziba: “Well, there’s a son of Jonathan but… this guy…” (holds in a laugh as best he can) “He’s lame in both feet.”
King David stood up, shocked. A son of Jonathan? Alive?! “Where is he?!” he asked Ziba.
Ziba tried not to roll his eyes too loudly at the king’s sudden interest in this paralyzed man and said with his nose high in the air, “He lives in the house of Makir, in Lo Debar.” (Which, again, means “middle of nowhere.”)
King David could hardly hold back his excitement. “Bring him to me… immediately!” he yelled with a smile on his face that almost pushed his ears right off his head.
*****
Mephibosheth sat in the house of Makir, in Lo Debar, staring off, letting alternating waves of shame and fear wash over him. First shame… then fear… then shame… then fear… then—
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Mephibosheth looked up at the door. He sat as quietly as possible. Maybe the person would think no one was home and go away—
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Mephibosheth stood stock still.
“Mephibosheth!” a deep voice on the other side of the door yelled.
Mephibosheth swallowed, stepped back against a wall, and slid down until he was huddled in a corner of the hut. His hands instinctively reached down and pulled down the edge of his tattered robe to cover his mangled feet. (It was something he did whenever he sensed danger.)
“We come on behalf of the king!”
In that moment, Mephibosheth realized that all of those years spent worrying, nervous, and anxious were appropriate. What he feared most had come to pass.
Realizing he had no choice, Mephibosheth picked himself up and scooted along atop his hobbled, crooked feet to the door. With fearful tears in his eyes, he pulled the door open.
A squad of soldiers stood just outside the hut.
“Mephibosheth?” the tall, brawny captain at the front asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice cracking in a dozen directions at once.
“Come with us.” The soldiers turned together as one, and headed off.
Mephibosheth nodded silently, bowed his head, and followed along.
*****
They walked mile after mile. The soldiers marched in perfect lines while Mephibosheth zigged and zagged, doing this best he could, half-dragging himself along via his crippled feet.
Though his ankles buckled every third step, his curled toe’s nails dug into the ground, and the sides of his feet grated along the rocky ground, the worst part of the journey for Mephibosheth was imagining what awaited him at the castle.
Would he be drawn? Quartered? Hanged? Beheaded? What fate awaited Mephibosheth once King David caught sight of poor, shameful Mephibosheth?
All Mephibosheth thought was, “This is the end for me.”
*****
When at long last they reached the palace, Mephibosheth had accepted his fate. He knew there was no way out so a calm resignation came over him. What good was he to anyone, anyway, this crippled and sad little man?
The soldiers helped Mephibosheth as he climbed the stairs and pulled him along until he was right in front of the throne. Back bent, head down, Mephibosheth stood and waited.
Then—
“Mephibosheth!”
A loud, clear voice rang out in the palace hall. It was the voice of royalty—but also the voice of a singer. This voice, though, didn’t sound angry. It sounded… pleased… or, more accurately, ecstatic.
Though confused for a moment, Mephibosheth remembered himself, his situation, and his station. Mumbling (because what king would want to hear the voice of a man such as he?), Mephibosheth said what he’d heard men were supposed to say to a king: “I am at your service, king.”
King David saw the look on Mephibosheth’s face. The look of… terror. He ran to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eyes.
“Mephibosheth!” King David said. “Don’t be afraid! I brought you here because I want to show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan! And to restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul! And, Mephibosheth—I want you to eat at my table!”
Nothing in this made any sense to Mephibosheth. He wondered if this is what happened to men as they faced death: they were overcome by delusions. He couldn’t trust his ears. Still, he could have sworn he heard what he heard. Surely, the king was mistaken…
Mephibosheth fell to the ground and (again, instinctively) wrapped the edge of his robe around his feet. He bowed low putting his head against the leather sandal straps that held fast King David’s perfect feet.
“What… what…” Mephibosheth muttered out. “What would you want with a dead dog like me?”
King David had no choice but to ignore Mephibosheth’s shameful balderdash. “Ziba!” he shouted.
Ziba slunk into the room, like a little weasel guy. “Yes, my lord?”
“I have given Mephibosheth, your master’s grandson, everything that belonged to Saul and his family. Ziba, I want you and your sons and your servants to farm the land for him and bring in the crops so Mephibosheth can be provided for,” King David said.
Mephibosheth finally looked up. He had to see whether or not King David was, in fact, saying these things or if Mephibosheth’s mind was playing tricks on him.
While still speaking to Ziba, King David looked down at Mephibosheth. “Mephibosheth—the grandsons of your master—will always eat at my table.”
Quietly, Ziba muttered, “As you wish” and slunk away.
King David knelt down and gently lifted Mephibosheth’s face so he was looking him right in the eyes. “Always, Mephibosheth. As long as you like, you will always eat at my table.”
And in an instant, all of Mephibosheth’s doubts—about the goodness of the king and if any good thing would ever come to him, the shameful one—vanished and before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and hugged the king. And the king hugged him back with such power and force that Mephibosheth thought he’d lose his breath.
King David let loose tears that fell on Mephibosheth’s shoulders. He wept for joy at having found Mephibosheth. And he wept remembering his friend Jonathan. And he wept because he knew being good to this son of Jonathan was exactly what God wanted him to do.
*****
That night at dinner, as he prepared to join the king and his family for dinner, Mephibosheth’s shame returned. He stared down at his gnarled, crooked feet and thought, “No king—no matter how good—wants to see my shame.” And, for a moment, Mephibosheth entertained the notion of running away, back to Lo Debar (which, again, means “middle of nowhere”).
Thankfully, something impelled him, instead, to go.
To go down to the banquet hall…
Down amongst the members of the king’s family…
Down amongst the well-heeled royalty and the esteemed royal cabinet…
To sit down at the table of the king.
And in a single moment, Mephibosheth noticed something: while seated at the table—the king’s table—no one could see his feet.
The table of the king covered over his shame.
And sitting there, amongst the king’s sons… Mephibosheth was one of them.
And as a tiny smile crept across Mephibosheth’s face, his eyes met those of King David who simply raised a glass and with a mighty and proud royal grin said to him, “Welcome.”
*****
Do you live in shame? Fear?
God’s love chases away shame… and drives out fear.
Just like David showed kindness to Mephibosheth because of Jonathan…
God shows kindness to us because of Jesus.
It’s through Jesus that we find God’s favor…
It’s through Jesus that we don’t need to live in terror of facing the Living God…
And it’s through Jesus that we’re allowed to sit at the table of the King… enjoy His goodness… and enjoy the fact that the very things that cause us the most shame are hidden away from view beneath the King’s table for always and for ever.
Amen.