Read Time: 6 minutes1 Chronicles 11
All Israel comes to make David king, he takes the fortress that becomes the city of David, and his mighty men jeopard their lives for a drink he will not keep for himself. The tribes gather at Hebron: we are thy bone and thy flesh… Yahweh thy God said unto thee, Thou shalt feed my people Israel. Their word is the word of Eve over Adam, bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh — the bride owning her head, a figure of the body gathered to the true King. They anoint him, and he takes the stronghold of Zion — Jebus — the same is the city of David; and the refrain sounds: David waxed greater and greater: for Yahweh of hosts was with him. The chosen king is enthroned and the chosen city is taken.
Then the catalogue of the mighty men, and at its heart a small, luminous story. David, longing in the cave, sighs for water of the well of Bethlehem, that is at the gate; and three of his men break through the Philistine garrison, draw the water, and carry it back. But David would not drink of it, but poured it out to Yahweh: shall I drink the blood of these men that have put their lives in jeopardy? The thing won at the risk of men’s lives he will not consume on himself — he pours it out as an offering to Yahweh. The water bought with jeopardy is too costly for the king’s own thirst; it belongs on the altar.
It is a window into the heart of the true king — and a foreshadowing. The greater Son of David would not grasp the kingdom for his own comfort either; the life poured out, the costliest thing, he would render up to Yahweh. David’s poured-out water is a small picture of a life poured out in worship rather than spent on self.
The chosen king takes Zion, and pours out as an offering the water his men risked their lives to bring. The costliest thing is not consumed on self but poured out to Yahweh.
Ezekiel 24
On the very day the siege of Jerusalem begins, the city is shown as a pot of bloody scum boiling on the fire — and the prophet’s own wife dies as a sign. Ezekiel is told to write thee the name of the day, even of this same day: the king of Babylon set himself against Jerusalem this same day. The siege has started, and the parable is the cooking-pot: Jerusalem the cauldron, the people the flesh and bones, the bloody city… the pot whose scum is therein. The fire is heaped on, the flesh boiled out, but the scum — the deep rust of her bloodshed — will not come off; so the empty pot is set on the coals till even the rust is burned away. The judgment is thorough; nothing of the corruption survives it.
Then the hardest sign of all. Son of man, behold, I take away from thee the desire of thine eyes with a stroke: yet neither shalt thou mourn nor weep. Ezekiel speaks to the people in the morning; at evening his wife dies; and the next day he does not mourn. When they ask what it means, the answer breaks: I will profane my sanctuary, the excellency of your strength, the desire of your eyes… and your sons and your daughters… shall fall by the sword. The temple is the desire of your eyes — and like the prophet’s wife it will be taken with a stroke, and the blow will be too deep for the usual rites of grief. Ezekiel is a sign in his own bereavement: the loss coming is beyond mourning. His wife, the desire of thine eyes, stands for the Wife of Yahweh herself, whose destiny was to be consumed by Babylon; and the very words of the sentence — the excellency of your strength, ye shall pine away for your iniquities — are lifted from the curses of the Levitical covenant (Lev. 26), the broken covenant that is the ground of the whole judgment.
This is the hinge of the book. After this the long oracles of judgment give way; the watchman who was struck dumb will speak again toward restoration. But first the desire of the eyes must be taken — the bloody pot emptied, the sanctuary profaned, the false security stripped to nothing.
On the day the siege begins, the bloody pot is boiled till even the rust is gone, and the desire of the prophet’s eyes is taken with a stroke — a sign that the temple, the desire of all eyes, will fall.
Luke 21
The widow gives her two mites, and the Lord turns from the doomed temple to the long ages and the certain coming of the Son of man. A poor widow casts in two mites, and he reckons it more than all the rich gave, for all these have of their abundance cast in… but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had. The measure of the gift is what it costs the giver — all her living, like the water David would not drink but poured out to Yahweh.
Then the disciples admire the temple’s stones, and he foretells its end: there shall not be left one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down. Wars, earthquakes, famines, persecutions will come; Jerusalem will be compassed with armies and trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled. The desire of the eyes that Ezekiel mourned falls again, and the long treading-down of the city begins — until a fixed term is fulfilled. The judgment is real and long, but it has an end written into it. That treading-down ran its long course until the city returned to Jewish hands in our own day, the times of the Gentiles visibly nearing their term; and the prophecy ends where it will be fulfilled — the feet of the multitudinous Christ standing on the mount of Olives in victory (Zech. 14:4).
And beyond the long night, the dawn: the Son of man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. When these things begin to come to pass, the word is not despair but hope — look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh. The fig tree puts forth, and you know summer is near; so when these signs come, know ye that the kingdom of God is nigh at hand. And the charge: take heed to yourselves… watch ye therefore, and pray always, that ye may be accounted worthy… to stand before the Son of man.
The widow gives all her living; the temple falls and the city is trodden down until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled — and then the Son of man comes, and your redemption draws nigh. Watch and pray.
Synthesis and Exhortation
The day turns on the costly gift poured out and the desire of the eyes taken away. David takes Zion, and the one thing the chapter lingers on is the water he would not drink but poured out to Yahweh — the costliest thing not consumed on self but rendered to the altar. The widow casts in all the living that she had — the same heart in another key, the gift measured by what it costs the giver. And between them stands Ezekiel’s sign: the temple, the desire of your eyes, taken with a stroke, the bloody pot scoured to nothing because the rust of her sin would come off no other way.
The thread is what is freely poured out against what is forcibly taken. David’s water and the widow’s mites are given — held by no one, poured out in worship; the temple and the city are taken — clung to as the excellency of your strength and therefore thrown down, not one stone left upon another. The heart that pours itself out loses nothing it valued, for it valued the right thing; the heart that clings to the desire of the eyes loses everything, for it made a building its god. And over the long treading-down of the city the Lord writes a fixed term — until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled — and past it, the Son of man in a cloud, and the word look up.
So the exhortation is to pour yourself out and not to cling to what can be taken with a stroke. Give all your living like the widow; pour out the costliest thing to Yahweh like David, rather than spend it on self. Do not fasten your heart to the desire of the eyes — the visible security, the building, the strength you can see — for it can be profaned in a day, and the deepest grief is for those who trusted it. Watch and pray; the city is trodden down only until a term Yahweh has fixed, and then the Son of man comes. When the signs gather, the word to the poured-out heart is not fear but look up, for your redemption draweth nigh.
Pour yourself out like David’s water and the widow’s mites; do not cling to the desire of the eyes that is taken with a stroke. The city is trodden down until the times of the Gentiles end — then the Son of man comes. Watch, and look up.