Sorrow has no boundaries that Grace cannot not contain.
This week, three children, ages 5, 8 and 11, and a teacher were killed in a shooting at Silver Rail Elementary School in Bend, Oregon. This is the 36th shooting on K-12 school grounds across the United States this year. Among the victims is five-year-old Rhoam Summer. The depth of the sorrow that the parents of young Rhoam is experiencing has no boundary. “Today has been the worst day of my life. My son Rhoam was killed in a school shooting,” Kelik Summer, the father, wrote in a Facebook post.
Somewhere in this present time of another “thought and prayers” headline, the human condition of sorrow cries for a response. We all experience it in some way—the loss of a daughter in the heat of battle of a senseless war; the fatal shooting of an unarmed son who should have made it home; a doctor’s flat-line words about your long-loved aged mother, “We did our best.” Sorrow can feel boundless. There is plenty of sorrow to go around.
David experienced his share of sorrow. He cried over the death of Abner, his brave comrade-in-arms (2 Sam. 3:23). He wept over the death of his best friend Jonathan (2 Sam. 1:12). David refused to eat upon hearing of the death of his child conceived with Bathsheba (2 Sam. 17). But it was the death of his son Absolom that left him with a sorrow that could only be expressed in profound brevity, “My son is dead.” Eight times in two verses (2 Sam. 18:33; 19:4), repeated:
“My son, Absalom! My son, my son, Absalom! If only I could have died in your place! Absalom, my son, my son!”
Despite the fact that Absalom was at war with David to take the crown; despite the fact that Absalom slept with David’s household concubines in public view to shame his father; despite the fact that Absalom set up a throne outside the gates of Jerusalem and counseled the people as if he had already disposed his father as king, David’s sorrow was deeper and acutely cutting over the news of the death of his beloved Absolom. Perhaps David’s deep hurt is a teaching moment for our own hurts that sorrow has no boundaries that grace cannot not contain.
The backstory of Absalom’s death is found in 2 Sam. 18. David’s men had soundly defeated the army of the ten tribes of Israel aligned with Absalom. David warned his general, Joab, to be gentle with his son as Absalom’s defeat was imminent. Yet, as Joab came upon David’s son who had entangled himself in a forest of low-hanging tree limbs while in flight on mule-back, the insensitive general thrusted spears in the helpless Absalom hanging from a branch. He ordered his aids to finish the job. Two messengers on foot delivered the news to David.
The Cushite replied, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who have plotted against you be like that young man!” 2 Sam. 18:32
The news was devastating, but it was not without warning. The assumed rule of leadership is that the consequences of bad choices will eventuate themselves. What a man sows he reaps. “The sword of violence shall never leave your house” was God’s judgment on David’s adultery with Bathsheba (2 Sam. 12:10). Absalom’s death cut David deep.
Despite the fact that the civil war over the kingship of Israel with the defeat of Absolom was a resounding victory, it was bitter sweet. Blood is thicker than political water. David would have rather died in place of his son.
Thank God. God in the person of His Son Christ, died in the place of our sins—sin of equal weight to David’s affair with another man’s wife. “We all have sinned and have come short of the glory of God (Ro. 10:9,10).” But God’s grace is sufficient.
But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you. When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you.” So, I am very happy to brag about my weaknesses. Then Christ’s power can live in me. 2 Cor. 12:9
Grace—God’s unearned favor, free, undeserved gift of love, mercy, and salvation toward our fallen human condition is manifested divinely through His risen Son—is dynamic, buoyant, sufficient. How that sufficiency is evidenced is executed under the sovereign power and provision of Christ. It’s orchestrated by his perfect will, but never without your humble willingness to be an agent of grace, to go above the call to action, to be equal to the cause of hope—to start a GoFundMe page; to lead a signature drive for legislative reform; to man a vigil beyond the customary “thoughts and prayers”. There is no one patent response to grace. It knows the right thing to do.
We would do well to give pause for thought in the temporary moments of the human condition of our sorrows—sorrows of death, sickness, and heartbreak—that sorrow has no boundary that grace cannot contain. God bless the children of Bend Oregon.
Listen to A Forgiving Fire audiobook sample. A Forgiving Fire Audiobook Sample-3m-YT https://youtu.be/LUDDVfQyY-Q?si=Yd5ghNJ_7uJkyJiM
Audiobook available at: https://a.co/d/034ESwQa
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