“Barzillai
was a very aged man, even fourscore years old; and he had provided the king of
sustenance while he lay at Mahanaim; for he was a very great man.” The king
invites Barzillai to go with him to Jerusalem, “and I will feed thee had not
served his rejected Master for reward or acknowledgment; it was love that so
liberally gave of his substance to the king in those darkest of days, and love
does not give for reward. But he adds, (as I suppose we all will add in that
coming day), “And why should the King recompense it me with such a reward?” And
then, though he would return home himself, he offers his son Chimham to go with
the King; “and do to him what shall seem good unto thee.” And the King
answered, “Chimham shall go over with me, and I will do to him that which shall
seem good unto thee.” (II Samuel 19).
What
did David do for the son of his old friend, who had cared for him in his
rejection? We do not know for sure, but could it be that he shared with him his
own family estate at Bethlehem? We know our King shares His kingly Home with
those who share His rejection. Anyway, we read in Jeremiah 41:17 of those who
dwelt “in the habitation of Chimham, which is by Bethlehem.” And there are
those who think this should be the “inn of Chimham”, and that afterwards,
perhaps, it was this very inn that could find “no room” for the King of kings,
and so in its stable, at Bethlehem, great David’s greater Son came to our
world, rejected, as David had been, in small measure, before Him. We cannot
know for sure about this, but we do know that David did not forget the one who
had shared his rejection, and in his dying charge to his son Solomon he
especially commended to his care, not only Chimham, but “the sons of Barzillai
the Gileadite.”
It
is a blessed thing to have the privilege of sharing the rejection of Jesus and
still more blessed that our children should share that rejection with us. They,
and we, will share the glory in a coming day with the One we have learned to
love in His rejection. There are those who say: Let the children choose for
themselves. That was not the way with those noble men of old. With them, the
children, of course, went with their fathers. May it be so, more and more, with
your little ones.
But
I cannot refrain from another little word about Chimham, even though it is not
exactly in line with the subject before us. The name Chimham means “Great
Desire”, “Longing”. It comes from a Hebrew root, meaning “To long for”
anything; it occurs only once in the Bible, Psalm 63:2 “my flesh longeth for
Thee.” Does not this name tell us of the intense desire of the inmost heart of
Chimham’s noble father; as he “longed” for the blessings promised, but waited
for so long, for his people Israel? Perhaps I should not say “the blessings”,
but rather “the Blesser”; for it is not for “them”, but “for Thee my flesh
longeth.” And so it came about that although Barzillai himself could not go to
Jerusalem with David, his “Longing” did go over, and dwelt there with the King.
May I quote an old poem I found recently that has strangely stirred my own
heart, and I hope may carry a message of Hope for you also:
The King
hath passed the river
Jerusalem
is free;
This
wilderness is weary,
This flesh
is slavery:
Awhile He
dwelt among us,
With whom
it was not so:
Henceforth
our King and Savior
No more in
flesh we know.
He entered
Jordan asking
For us
with Him to be;
The glory
He is bearing
He prayed
that we might see;
“Father I
will” (we listened,
I thought
I heard my name)
“That they
whom Thou has given Me
Be with Me
where I am.”
Man may
not gaze on glory,
As once he
looked on grace;
Not on the
Lord rejoicing,
As on the
Man’s marred face;
A little
while in Gilead
Our
dwelling-place must be,
But our
“Longing” shall go over,
And dwell,
O Lord, with Thee.
I dwelt by
Jordan longing
That I
might soon depart,
And one
Lord’s Day a vision
Entranced
my longing heart.
I saw upon
Mount Zion,
Around the
Royal Lamb,
Twelve
times twelve thousand virgins
From men
redeemed they came.
One voice
of many waters
Went up
from all that throng,
The voice
of harpers harping,
One
thunder-voice of song,
Before the
throne and elders
And living
creatures near;
None not
redeemed could learn it,
None not
redeemed could hear.
And every
mouth was guileless,
Each
garment undefiled;
God on
each brow had written
The Name
that seals His child,
And, while
I looked, my Savior
Smiled on
me graciously;
“Come
over, I will feed thee
In
Jerusalem with Me.”
The vision
faded from me;
I woke to
earth again;
Before me
rolled the Jordan
Behind me
stretched the plain,
But still
there dwelt upon me
My
Savior’s look and smile;
And words
were whispering in mine ears,
His Words,
“A little while.”
A little
while by Jordan
My
sojourning must be;
But my
longing hath gone over,
And I long
to dwell with Thee.
“A little
while”- how long have I to live,
That I
should go to be a king with Thee?
Labor and
sorrow all that flesh can give,
And
fourscore years the bound of life for me!
Can I
discern betwixt the good and ill?
Sad empty
godhead man had thought to win!
And shall
Thy treasured goodness flow, to fill
A soul in
rags, a vessel meet for sin?
Can Thy
servant taste
The fruit
of life whereon Thy conquerors feed?
Shall lips
unclean the hidden manna waste,
The living
waters where the Lamb doth lead?
Can I hear
the voice
Of those
who sing “Salvation” all the day,
Whose eyes
behold the King, whose hearts rejoice
With joy
untold, that no man takes away?
No-not
yet-not there,
To be a
burden to my Lord the King.
No-let
this earthly house dissolve to share
Their
life, whom God with Thee again shall bring.
A little
way will I Thy servant go,
A little
way o’er Jordan with my Lord.
And why,
-‘twill take eternity to know-
Why should
He recompense me such reward?
The heavy
spirit and the failing flesh
With thee
awhile shall yet be crucified,
Whose eye
was never dim, Whose nature’s force
Did not
abate, till He overcame, that died?
So would
I, Lord, in Jordan
Be first
baptized with Thee;
Yet take
my longing over
To
Jerusalem the free.
And if
some time the spirit
But dimly
burn within,
And the
weak flesh be weaker
With would
or sore of sin;
I’ll think
on Him Who conquered
And kept
the crown for me;
And my
longing shall go over
And wear
it now with Thee.
When heavy
for a season,
With temptings
manifold,
When faith
mistrusts Thy goodness,
When love
is waxing cold;
I’ll long
to know the surety
Of that I
do not see;
And my
longing shall go over
And know
it now with Thee.
When bread
of tears is given,
Or
plenteous tears to drink,
I’ll long
for hidden manna,
Of Christ
my life I’ll think,
Whose
streams make glad the city
Where
weeping shall go over
To
Paradise with Thee.
If for a
time I suffer,
Pierced
with the thorns that grow,
Lest we
forget the wilderness
And all
our nature’s woe;
Yet from
that voice of harpers
Sorrow and
sighing flee;
And my
longing shall go over,
And hear
them sing to Thee.
In Gilead
and by Jordan
My tent
awhile must be,
Hard by
the “Hill” whose “witness”, (Gen. 31:47-48)
Is “Jesus
died for me”;
Hard by
the brink of Jordan, (Ezekiel 47:4 “Water of forgiveness” LXX)
Whose
ever-deepening tide
Still, as
my feet it cleanseth (John 13:10)
Is
whispering, “Jesus died”.
And o’er
the flood I’ll look, and long
For
Jerusalem the free;
While the
spirit in the failing flesh
Is going
heavily;
And my
sign the dimly burning flax (Isaiah 43:4)
The
bruised reed shall be:
But my
longing only shall not fail;
I’ll
always long for Thee.
And some
day, while I’m longing,
I think my
Lord will come!
And in the
twinkling of an eye
I shall be
free, at home;
And my
soul, that thirsteth after God,
Shall be
athirst no more;
And my
hunger shall be satisfied,
And all my
longings o’er.
(C.H. Waller, 1865).
I had stopped
here in the story of Barzillai, even though my notebook referred me to three verses
in Ezra 2, Verses 61 to 63. But I could not bear to see the noble name of
Barzillai tarnished with any mark of failure, and so I decided to disregard my
note. But the Spirit of God is too faithful an Historian to cover up every
failure, though many a one He does cover, and for the rest He seems to delight
to hide these failures away where few will find them. So, now with my book
finished, I cannot send it to you, with that note in my old note book, still
not crossed off, and much against my will, we must look together at the cause
of the blot on that fair name Barzillai.
The matter
did not even come to light for nearly five hundred years, not until after the
return from Captivity in Babylon. Then the children of Habaiah, the children of
Koz, the children of Barzillai… sought their register among those that were
reckoned by genealogy, but they were not found; therefore were they, as
polluted, put from the priesthood. And the Tirshatha said unto them, that they
should not eat of the most holy things, till there stood up a priest with Urim
and Thummim.
And what was
the cause of this shame and degradation? Why could these persons not trace
their genealogy? Long years before, one of their forefathers married a daughter
of Barzillai the Gileadite. No doubt it was considered a very good match for
the young priest, and doubtless it brought with it wealth, riches and honor;
for we have seen that Barzillai was a very great man, a very noble character,
(his very name meant “Iron of the Lord”, to indicate he was “Most firm and
true”), and he was so immensely wealthy, that as we have seen, he could from
his own private means take care of the king during his rejection.
It was no
light thing to become the son-in-law of such a man; and the young priest,
contrary to God’s order, gave up his own name and took the name of his wife:
and so in Ezra he stands with the name “Barzillai”. But his own priestly name
is lost; lost it would appear in the desire for worldly advancement, riches,
wealth and honor. Doubtless he gained all these; and he probably thought the
price he paid was very small; but how little did he think that his act, some
five hundred years later, would cost his children their blessed, privileged
place of priests! But we cannot obtain advancement in the things of the world
without loss in the things of Heaven. And in the end we will find that Heaven’s
riches and honor are more enduring than those of earth, no matter how tempting
the offer may be now. See Ezra 2:61.
It is not for
us to say who was to blame, but it is a sad, sad thing to see the name of
Barzillai the Gileadite linked up in the Book of Ezra, with this story of
sorrow and shame.
I need not
point out the lessons for us; they are too plain to require comment; but I may
point to the end of the passage as a blessed message of hope. For us a priest
has stood up with Urim and Thummim, and He knows the heart: He knows if the
genealogy is really true, if there has been the new birth, even though years of
contact with the world, may have hidden it to the eyes of others.