The Bible as Mirror: Trump, Ziba, and Mephibosheth

The Bible as Mirror: Trump, Ziba, and Mephibosheth February 23, 2017

Many things might be said of the first five weeks of the administration of Donald Trump, the 45th president of the USA, but it appears that chaos and confusion are high on such a list. “Alternative facts” might be the hallmark of a crowd that has difficulty telling the truth of things (a recent poll suggested that fully 2/3 of the public pronouncements of the president are “pants-on-fire” lies!), still the more basic characteristic is chaos. A National Security Director resigns (is forced out?) after less than a month on the job because he misled the Vice-President on the crucial matter of inappropriate contacts with Russia. The President wastes no time in blaming the ouster of “this very good man” on mischaracterizations of what the director actually said, falsely reported in the press, that for this president has alarmingly become “the enemy of the American people.” Is it not ironic in the extreme when Russia, inveterate rival and enemy of America for nearly a century, has been replaced by a free press as our most dangerous enemy? Then, while the president has signaled that he is no longer committed to the two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian debacle, his own ambassador to the United Nations, Nikki Haley, reiterates the US support for, you guessed it, a two-state solution! Chaos indeed! Whom can we trust among these shifting sands of confusion?

Again, our ancient Bible rushes into my mind. Among the chaos of the administration of David as the second king of Israel, the king is in effect bamboozled by two of his supposed sycophantic allies, leading him to make a judgment about their property based on lies and half-truths. When governance is founded on lies, those who are involved have little firm ground on which to stand, and then are forced into making decisions that may have dire consequences for the public. Such is the case with a modern American administration with a bold prevaricator at its head, leading his spokespeople and would-be allies to scramble after some shred of consistent policy. Such was the case with King David and his supposed allies, Mephibosheth, son of Jonathan, and Ziba, chief servant of the household of Saul. Like the Trump administration, the story is a convoluted one.

We first hear of Mephibosheth, one of the last remaining descendants of the dead king Saul’s household, at 2 Sam. 4:4. There we learn that when the tragic news of the deaths of Saul and his son Jonathan are reported to Saul’s household in Gibeah, the nurse of Jonathan’s son, Mephibosheth (a very odd name meaning “from the mouth of shame”), ran from the house in a panic, and in her headlong flight dropped the five-year-old so that he spent the remainder of his days an invalid, crippled in both of his feet.

Some years pass, as David is establishing his rule over all the tribes of Israel. Finally, after David feels secure in his new capital of Jerusalem, he turns to the matter of dealing with any remnants of the household of his former rival, Saul. He claims that his only concern is to “show kindness for Jonathan’s sake” (2 Sam. 9:1), but we can be sure that it is just as important for the king either to rid himself of any lingering potential rivals for the throne, or to bring any possible rivals into his near orbit to keep an eye on them. David is told that there is an old and important retainer of the household of Saul, named Ziba.

Ziba appears before David, quickly implying that he is now beyond doubt an unfailing follower of the new king. “At your service,” he loudly proclaims when presented to the king. “Do you know anyone left from Saul’s house that I may show God’s kindness to?” says David to Ziba? One might imagine that this sentence is uttered with a wry smirk, its underlying meaning being I wish to keep my potential enemies close, or perhaps even dispatch them just as Ishbaal, Saul’s last surviving son, was murdered by two fellows seeking the King’s favor. For their efforts David had them killed, as David is always ready to do to those who dare lay a hand on any of “YHWH’s anointed,” he being one of those himself of course. “Well,” replies Ziba, “there is the son of Jonathan, though he is crippled.” Ziba thus reveals both the existence of this boy, grandson of Saul, and his helplessness. David asks where the boy is. Ziba responds, “He is in the house of Machir, son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar” (2 Sam. 9:4). Ziba’s answer to David both reveals and conceals. He implicates Machir and his family as those who are sheltering the crippled youth, but he further claims that they are all to be found at Lo- debar, a place name literally meaning “nothing” or perhaps figuratively “nowhere”!

What sort of game might Ziba be playing? He identifies the surviving Saulide, Mephibosheth, announces where he is supposedly being hidden by Machir, but names the place nowhere. It could be said that by speaking in such a complex and confusing way, Ziba establishes power over the fate of Mephibosheth, his master, and power over David, who seems intent on bringing the youth to court. Ziba sets himself up as the necessary intermediary between the king, and his master, Mephibosheth. This may help him in his later dealings with the king and with his taskmaster, the son of Jonathan.

Mephibosheth soon appears at the court, and David proceeds to treat the crippled youth with enormous kindness. “I will restore to you all the land of your grandfather, Saul, and you yourself will eat at my table always” (2 Sam. 9:7). He then turns to Ziba and demands that the former master of Saul’s household “till the land for him and shall bring in the produce, so that your master’s grandson may have food to eat; still your master’s grandson will always eat at my table” (2 Sam 9:10). This is a devilishly interesting demand. Mephibosheth will always eat with me, says David, but you, Ziba, and your huge family, 15 sons, along with your large retinue of 20 servants, will toil in Saul’s fields to produce the food that Mephibosheth and I will heartily eat! In other words, Ziba is sent off to labor while David and Mephibosheth will gladly stuff themselves with that labor’s result. One may surely see here the seeds of a later betrayal.

And sure enough after more years pass, after David has been expelled from Jerusalem by his very ambitious son, Absalom, and is fleeing for his life away from the city, who should show up with “a couple of donkeys saddled, carrying two hundred loaves of bread, one hundred bunches of raisins, one hundred summer fruits, and a large skin of wine” (2 Sam. 16:1), but Ziba himself! What is all this, asks the exhausted king? Why, they are all for you, my king, says Ziba, to refresh you and your retainers during this shameful retreat from your own city. “Where is your master’s son?” asks David (2 Sam. 16:3). Ziba’s reply is oily in the extreme. “He stays in Jerusalem, because he said, ‘Today the house of Israel will give me back my grandfather’s kingdom’” (2 Sam. 16:3).

He overtly accuses Mephibosheth of treason against David, claiming that he imagines that Absalom, the new king, will give him back the kingdom of Saul over which he will now reign. It is completely absurd to think that Absalom would immediately turn half of his newly stolen kingdom over to the crippled Mephibosheth, who has been treated royally by David for some years in Jerusalem. Yet, that is Ziba’s claim. David, in ridiculous response, says, “All that belonged to Mephibosheth is now yours” (2 Sam. 16:4). In an instant David swallows Ziba’s lie about his master, and hands everything over to him without a second thought.

As in the Trump world, lies breed indecision, bad decision, and confusing decision. Why would David not probe Ziba further about his treasonous accusations against Mephibosheth? Why could David not see that Ziba’s comments about his master are foolish and ridiculous on their face? Unfortunately, the lies do not stop there.

After David has regained power over the land, following the murder of his son, Absalom, by Joab and his soldiers, and is on his way back to Jerusalem, Ziba rushes down to meet the king before he crosses the stream, accompanied by all 15 of his sons and all 20 of his servants (2 Sam 19:17). This large company is soon joined by Mephibosheth, who comes to the stream to meet his king. Necessarily, given his physical disability, he cannot get there as quickly as Ziba, but he does arrive. He looks terrible. His crippled feet have not been treated in a while, his beard is untrimmed, and his clothes are unwashed and rank. In fact, he has done none of these things since the day David left Jerusalem until his return. Mephibosheth has shown by his appearance, or at least is attempting to show, that he wants to be in solidarity with his protector and king.

David is immediately suspicious. “Why did you not go with me, Mephibosheth” (2 Sam. 19:25)? His answer is, “My lord, O king, my servant deceived me! I said to him, ‘Saddle a donkey for me, so that I may ride it and go with the king.’ Your servant is lame! Ziba has slandered your servant to my lord the king. But my lord the king is like the angel of God; do therefore whatever seems good to you” (2 Sam 19:26-27). He continues to thank David for saving him and allowing him to eat at his table, and concludes, “What further right have I to appeal to the king” (2 Sam. 19:28)? David’s reply to Mephibosheth is most intriguing. “Why say anything more about your concerns? You and Ziba will divide the fields!” And Mephibosheth replies, “Let him take it all, since my lord has come home safely!” And there the twisting story ends.

David’s final decision is frankly expedient, but based on no real knowledge of the situation. After all, both Ziba and Mephibosheth could be liars; it could be that Ziba really had David’s safety uppermost in his mind and ratted out Mephibosheth as the traitor he was. Or, on the other hand, it could be that Ziba was only self-serving, greedy for power over the land he formerly worked as servant and anxious to dupe his king. And Mephibosheth might have been a traitor, thirsting after his lost kingship, but when David regained the upper hand, worked hard to demonstrate his loyalty by blaming Ziba’s evil for his failure to follow David into exile. And David responds to all this mishmash by absently dividing the property equally between the two, though one or both are nothing less than bold-faced liars. Who finally can know the truth of any of this messy tale?

But that is just the point. When lies rule the day, no one may be trusted, and poor policy is the result. All three characters in the story, Ziba, Mephibosheth, and David are reduced to bad decision-making and self-serving behaviors. In the Trump world, the same results have so far accrued. Lies and deceptions and half-truths have reduced the players to defenders of the indefensible, protectors of the oppressors, spokespeople for those whose speaking has been absurd. We do not know what happened to Ziba or Mephibosheth, but we do know about David; he dies alone and cold, calling down curses on an old and helpless enemy. Such is the possible end of liars and their enablers.Donald_Trump's_hair_from_behind,_2007


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