Sanctuary Cities

He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. --Psalm 23:2

A lot of attention has been given recently to so-called "sanctuary cities."  These are places set apart from what are perceived as unjust laws.  A person who is guilty of a crime can escape prosecution by taking up residence in one of these towns.  He can claim sanctuary, in the sense of claiming safe haven.

The root word of "sanctuary" is "sanctified", meaning set apart.  In fact, the Latin prefix sanct- is the word for holy or sacred, as in "inner sanctum," the most holy or sacred place within a temple or shrine.  It is a place where few people are admitted.  More importantly, it is a place in which judgment can be withheld, and consequences can be avoided--consequences of sin and shame and guilt.

In 2 Samuel 9 we are introduced to a young man who was seeking safe haven from David, the king of Israel. The young man's name was Mephibosheth, and he had good reason to stay out of sight of the king.  You see, Mephibosheth was the grandson of Saul, the king of Israel before David.  In those days, whenever a new king ascended from a new family or dynasty, it was customary for the new king to slay all of the sons of the deposed king.  In this case, young Mephibosheth was just five years old when the news came to Jerusalem that Saul and his son Jonathan had both been killed in battle.  Fearing for the child's life, the nurse or nanny taking care of Mephibosheth grabbed him up and started running, out of the palace, and eventually out of Jerusalem.  But in all the rush, she dropped him.  The boy landed on his feet, but was lame or crippled the rest of his life.

Being disabled meant he would be solely dependent upon the kindness of others all his life. He couldn't work. He couldn't earn a living. He may have begged in the street--can you imagine, a grandson of the king having to beg for food?  Shameful.  Yet it seemed that it had been fore-told long before.

The name Mephibosheth literally means "from the mouth of shame", or one might say "despised one."  He is named for Bashtu, one of the baals, the false gods that Israel had long struggled with.  In fact, another name given to Mephibosheth was Merib-baal, literally, "one who struggles with baal."  How would you like to have a nickname like that?

I wonder whether you see something of yourself in Mephibosheth.  No, you may not be disabled or unable to work.  But you may be hiding something.  Your family may have carried a generational curse.  You may be trying to stay as far away from God as you can because of your own guilt and shame.  Your heritage is not holiness or sanctification, which is why your are seeking asylum in a haven or sanctuary city.

David himself was familiar with the struggle. He, too, was despised by his family.  When his brothers went off to war and became soldiers, David was left to tend sheep.  Believe it or not, a shepherd is not a glam job.  You don't need a good education to tend sheep.  Shepherds don't tend to be famous or rich.

When the prophet Samuel was directed to the house of Jesse in Bethlehem to find the next king of Israel, Jesse was delighted.  He paraded seven sons before the prophet, thinking surely it was one of them.  God told Samuel no as each one passed.  Finally, Samuel asked, "Have you no more sons?"  Jesse answered, "There is still one, but he is out tending the sheep."  The Hebrew word that this proud father used to describe his youngest son was ha Katan, which means "the insignificant one," or even "the useless one."

So yes, David knew what it was like to be despised.  Friend, so does Jesus.

Back to our story.  David has become king over Israel.  He has taken his position in the palace.  He has ultimate authority.  One day, he asks if anyone knows whether there are any left from Saul's family.  Let me quote Dr. James Garlow, author of The Covenant: a study of God's extraordinary love for you:

"Is there yet anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" David asks in verse 1.  The word "kindness" actually is the word chesed in the Hebrew, which implies a tenacious love that will not give up.  It's covenant love.  I prefer to call it "pit bull love", because it never lets go.  It's the "O Love That Will Not Let Me Go" type of love (referencing the title of a hymn written by George Matheson, 1842-1906).

Someone in David's household remembers that Saul had a house servant named Ziba.  David sends for Ziba and asks whether there are any blood relatives of Saul left that he can honor.  Ziba tells him about Mephibosheth, a disabled person living in a town called Lo-Debar.

Let's stop here a moment.  Lo-Debar means "no pasture" or "a dry and parched land."  Literally, it means "a land of no word."  What better name for a sanctuary city?  You mind your own business there, and nobody tells a soul a thing about you.  It is in the desert, so there is no farming done there; Mephibosheth would have no shame in not being able to grow his own food, because nobody there could farm.  It actually sounds a lot like Las Vegas--an artificial haven in the desert whose motto is, "What happens here, stays here."

I think this is one reason that David was known as "a man after God's own heart."  The author of Psalm 23, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me to lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters,"--that same David sends to Lo-Debar, a desolate land of no pasture and no peace, and fetches Mephibosheth to the palace.

Do you remember being called to the principal's office in school?  Or maybe being called to the manager's office at work?  You get that sinking feeling: nothing good can come of this.  Your mind starts listing all of the things you have done that might have gotten you into trouble: you called that girl a name, or you took something home that wasn't yours, or you made that personal long distance call on company time.  You can imagine, then, what poor Mephibosheth must have been thinking.  "I'm a dead man.  Dead man walking--no, I am lame, I can't walk.  Dead man crawling."  Here is what the Bible says happened next.

Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan the son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and prostrated himself.  And David said, "Mephibosheth."  And he said, "Here is your servant!"  David said to him, "Do not fear, for I will surely show kindness to you for the sake of your father Jonathan, and will restore to you all the l and of your grandfather Saul; and you shall eat at my table regularly." --2 Samuel 9:6-7.

Wait.  What?  This is unbelievable.  Mephibosheth thinks he must not have heard the king right.

Again, he prostrated himself and said, "What is your servant, that you should regard a dead dog like me?"  Then the king called Saul's servant Ziba and said to him, "All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to  your master's grandson.  You and your sons and your servants shall cultivate the land for him, and you shall bring in the produce so that your master's grandson may have food; nevertheless, Mephibosheth your master's grandson shall eat at my table regularly."  --2 Samuel 9:8-10

Yesterday, he thought he knew who he was; today, he has a new identity.  Yesterday he was begging on the street, couch-surfing with friends in a barren land where no one spoke a word to him.  Today, he has received word that he owns productive land, that he has more food that he can eat, because he is a child of the king.

Dr. Garlow puts it this way:

You see, David does for Mephibosheth what Jesus does for us.  A crippled man, dwelling in a lonely and desolate place, doesn't know the truth of who he is--the son of a covenant partner.  So David sends Ziba to get Mephibosheth--just as God sends the Holy Spirit to pursue us and bring us to Jesus.  Mephibosheth represents us.  Jesus looks at the covenant mark, where the nails pierced His wrist, and says, "Are there any more offspring out there who have not known the benefits of the covenant?  Invite them to My banquet table--compel them to come!  Ziba (Holy Spirit), go get them and bring them home."  LIke Mephibosheth, our response to God's offer is often mixed.  We know we are unworthy, emotionally crippled, living in a spiritually deprived land.  Se we fall on our face, imploring, "Don't kill me, Lord!"

Instead of giving us what we deserve, He offers a seat at His banquet table.  "Leave Lo-Debar behind," He says.  "What's Mine is yours."  Let that sink in a moment.  All that God has is yours, because of the covenant of grace.  I will let Dr. Garlow finish here.

The glorious truth of the gospel is that God has given us His riches in Christ Jesus.  He never intended for  us to be "despised" and living in desolation.  The sad truth is that the Church (that's us) often lives below the covenant provision God intended.

I found the cartoon at the top of this page after spending literally hours trying to find an image that would encapsulate this message.  David, when he said "you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies", was mirroring God Himself, who invites us, His sworn enemies, to dine with Him.  We, who are covered in sin, are able to be clothed with the righteousness of Jesus (Isaiah 61:10) so that we can enter into His presence, His sanctuary, His haven of eternal rest.