“Absalom, My Son, My Son”

“Absalom, My Son, My Son!”

Have you had an opportunity to see the documentary film about Mister Rogers, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” Since I watched that wonderful public television show with my son when he was a little boy, I very much wanted to go see the movie about dear Mister Rogers. I found myself crying through most of the film, and Dave admits to shedding a few tears himself.  “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” depicted a community where everyone learned how to treat each other with polite kindness and sincere compassion. Whether they joined him on the show or watched from home, Mister Rogers helped children understand that sometimes we experience pain or confusion, but that such times of difficulty give us opportunities to show our love for one another in the ways we extend a helping and supportive hand.  Mister Rogers gave children the tools to deal with scary things, like illness or disability or the death of a much-loved pet.

I couldn’t help but think of Mister Rogers and his beloved community when I read the lesson today from Paul’s letter to the Church at Ephesus. He begins by saying, “Put away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another.” It seems that we are not simply bystanders in the lives of those nearest to us; no, as neighbors “we are members of one another.” Our neighbors are also our family, and I think the children of Mister Rogers’ “Neighborhood” understood that connection. Paul goes on to say, “Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”

Forgiving one another isn’t always easy, and sometimes that can be most difficult among members of a family. I’m sure many of us have heard stories of siblings who have had a falling out and haven’t spoken to each other for years. The perceived betrayal by someone we love can be harder to accept than the conflicts we experience with strangers.
Considering the sometimes irreparable rifts among family members, I find today’s Old Testament story of King David and his son Absalom truly remarkable and deeply moving. When he learns of his son’s death, David says words that could pierce any heart: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!” If you don’t know the back story of this situation, I would like to share it with you so you can fully appreciate David’s loss—and his reaction to it.
By the time of the events in this story, David is an old man. Some years before, Absalom had murdered one of his half-brothers and was exiled. Even so, after three years, David forgave him and Absalom returned to Jerusalem. Then, over a four-year period, unbeknownst to his father, Absalom carried out a campaign to undermine his father’s authority among the people. Ultimately, Absalom gathered many followers and declared himself the king in his father’s place. David is compelled to flee with his army, and Absalom’s powerful force is set in opposition. At the point in today’s lesson from 2nd Samuel where our story begins, David’s generals Joab and Abishai have a plan to defeat Absalom and restore the kingdom to David. Even though his son has betrayed him in these truly egregious ways, David still instructs the generals to show mercy to Absalom, telling them: “Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.” When he learns that Absalom has been killed, David grieves with all his heart.
Remarkable, isn’t it? In some ways it seems that David’s grief for his lost son foreshadows the events spoken of by Jesus in today’s gospel lesson. Jesus is a descendant of David, and the great king’s grief is enough to cover the generations. When the ones who oppose Jesus complain about him, they refer to his parentage: “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” Jesus contends that he is the son of the Heavenly Father and that he is the “bread of life.” “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The righteous Jesus will be sacrificed for all of us, and his Heavenly Father, like Absalom’s father David, will have cause to grieve the death of a child.
On this day, the one-year anniversary of the events in downtown Charlottesville, how can we not reflect on the lives of all who were affected by the white supremacists’ rally that tore our city apart? I think of Susan Bro, whose daughter Heather Heyer was killed, mown down deliberately by a speeding car. Like King David, Susan Bro has experienced the excruciating grief of a parent who loses a child. So many people, old and young, were traumatized by the events of that day in downtown Charlottesville, and much healing still needs to happen. The authorities have prepared for anniversary events that may unfold today; I pray no one is hurt.
We should also not forget the mother of James Alex Fields, the driver of the car that struck and killed Heather Heyer. Even though her difficult son was the alleged perpetrator of a vicious crime, it seems he must have suffered from mental illness. She grieves, too, for a young and troubled son whose life has effectively been lost.
Now, in our nation, we are as divided, it seems, as were the opposing groups in Charlottesville last August. This past week, I had lunch with the woman I have always called “my little sister,” though we are not blood relatives. (Karen is also from Madison, and I’ve known her since we were both children.)  Unfortunately, Karen lost her only sister in a car accident when Sissy was just eighteen, so Karen’s parents have also suffered the grief of King David. Even though Karen and I are at this moment on opposite sides of the political divide, I love her and I must put our differences aside. As Mister Rogers and St. Paul have taught us, tenderhearted neighborliness comes first. Where did some of Mister Rogers’ wisdom come from? He once said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” Fred Rogers was born in 1928, so during his lifetime there were many very scary things in the news. Still, his mother’s wisdom and his capacity for love prevailed—and serve as reminders to all of us. There are always brave and loving helpers to be found.
Paul closes his letter to the Ephesians with an injunction to model our lives after Jesus if we wish for lasting peace: “Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” We are all called to be “the helpers” to one another. Maybe when we don’t know what else to say, we can simply ask, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”
I pray that by the example of your love and mercy, O Lord, we will know how to live with our neighbors in loving kindness and peace, especially during these and all times of trouble.  Amen.