Walking in Covenant with One Another: Reflection on The Gift of Barzillai

Summary & Response

Many Christians feel that they have no significant ministry or role in God’s plan. We go through the motions of attending weekly worship services, reading our bible or devotional daily, praying before meals, volunteering or serving a few times a year, and may participate in a small group or bible study. But despite these structured times of meeting together, Christians are living aimlessly with each other, neglecting an important facet of God’s intended purposes for our lives. The cure for this anemia of the inward Christian life is to walk with each other as both are being led by the Spirit. Walking with each other (in the biblical sense) is rooted in covenantal relationship. The Gift of Barzillai by K. Joshua Christiansen unpacks the means and value of biblical covenantal relationship, as exemplified through the story of Barzillai in 2 Samuel and 1 Kings. Barzillai is a virtually unheard of figure in the scriptures, yet the (very) minor role he played in God’s grand story holds transformative power then and now for how we live our lives as Christ followers. 

Barzillai’s story is deeply interwoven with the line of David. When King David’s son Absalom overthrew the throne, David fled into exile across the Jordan river. There, desolate, alone, cast out, and without food or supplies, God provided for David and his entourage through the Hebrew concept of hesed. The concept of hesed expounds upon our modern-day concept of kindness and compassion by taking it to a deeper level – to show great love by being faithful in a sacred covenant that is set apart (as a holy relationship). God raised up three individuals to care for David in his time in the transjordan: Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai. They brought him food, rest (beds), and comfort (2 Samuel 17:27-29). But of the three, Barzillai is the only one who continued to care for David beyond this moment – true covenantal loyalty the way God intended. 

After Absalom was defeated, David prepared to return to his throne in Jerusalem and Barzillai returned to accompany him back across the Jordan (2 Samuel 19:31-32). This simple act of walking with David back to his former glory is the pivotal moment that exemplifies Barzillai’s story for us today. During this time David was grieving the loss of his son, and it was no small feat to take back up the mantle of kinghood in light of all that had happened. In assisting David in his journey, Barzillai was both literally and symbolically walking with David through his grief and pain, until he was fully restored.  It is one thing to have sympathy, empathy, and compassion on someone in need, provide a one-time gift, and care for them at their lowest. It is another to continue to walk with them and carry them out of the muck and the mire until they are back on solid ground (Psalm 40). By crossing the Jordan with David, Barzillai was authentically communicating with him that he would continue to walk with him until he was established and back on track to where he would thrive in God’s plan. 

David recognized and honored this covenantal bond by requesting Barzillai to join his court in Jerusalem, but Barzillai was already elderly at this point and offered one of his servants to attend to David in his stead (2 Samuel 19:33-40). By offering up his servant, Barzillai was indicating that though he could no longer personally care for David, he was ensuring that the commitment he made would continue onward. David would be fully restored by the hand of Barzillai. He literally went the extra mile. And when Barzillai could no longer go another mile himself, his servant fulfilled the bond and walked with David the additional miles. In return, David promised to bless and care for Barzillai’s servant Chimham, upholding his side of hesed.  

While David was on his deathbed, he commanded his son Solomon to bless Barzillai (1 Kings 2:7). The blessing acts as reciprocity from David to continue hesed with the line of Barzillai through Solomon. Thus the covenant was intended to continue onto the next generation. Walking with one another in covenant then and caring for each other as God intended does not stop with us, but passes to those around us. When we lift each other up, we model Christ’s love. Those we walk with and bless become empowered to live out this biblical covenant kindness with others, and so by small acts, an entire network of individuals become intertwined through God’s goodness. When Christians grasp this concept of walking with one another, our lives become imbued with mission and purpose. We don’t need to do big works to fulfill God’s plan. We don’t have to be Moses, Elijah, Peter, or Paul in someone’s life to make a difference. Cast this mindset aside. There are no little people in the Kingdom of God – we all have a purpose and a mission. 

Unfortunately, we as Christians have fallen short of truly living out hesed with each other. K. Joshua Christiansen draws from personal experience when he points out that “too often we as the church have functioned more like a dysfunctional family than as a people who missionally live out the covenantal love of God.” Church members break covenants with each other as if we were never united by the all-surpassing love of the initiator and actualizer of everything. Broken covenants lead to pain and mistrust, but through the darkness God reaches out and uses others to reach out and bless each other (us) in these moments. 

I too have personally witnessed those I walked with leave the church and break covenants over selfish and prideful reasons, choosing to avoid the difficult work of reconciliation and neglecting to work towards restoration. When Christians fail to walk with each other, we subvert the gospel message of the God who redeems and restores all things. But when we turn our backs on each other, it’s as if that message has not permeated our heart, mind, or soul a minutiae. Many think that what separates believers from non-believers is that Christians are kind, friendly, do-gooders, and always happy. These are misnomers. It is not possible for Christians to live up to this standard all the time. That is exactly why we need Jesus – we fall short. However, the distinction that should be made between believers and non-believers is that when relationships are broken, when hurt and pain occurs, when mistrust grows, and sin is present, Christians repent, seek forgiveness, humble themselves to walk with one another despite the hurt and offense caused to them, and move towards reconciliation and full restoration. The act of submitting to scripture and continuing to walk with one another in Christ through the practice of hesed is completely alien to non-believers, yet if truly lived out in entirety the church would not only function as the family God intended, but shine as a beacon of truth that would attract the nations by vulnerability, transparency, and the restorative power through the deep and abiding love of Jesus in us. This is why it is so critical that Christians grasp the concept of hesed and put it into practice. It will define us and separate us from the world. 

In the moments we feel like we are walking alone with our pain, our grief, our separation, it is then that the opportunity is rife for Christians to live out the principle of covenantal compassion and love for each other. Walking with one another also occurs at other times. It can be very demoralizing when we feel like we are the only ones walking with God. That underlines the importance of walking in covenant with each other, as it lets others know they are not alone in their walk. As Paul points out in Romans 11:4, the prophet Elijah felt alone in his walk. Elijah thought he was taking on the whole kingdom of Israel by himself. Yet God reminds Elijah that “I have kept for myself seven thousand men who have not bowed the knee to Baal.” Elijah was not alone, he simply needed some of the seven thousand to actually walk alongside him in his missional life for God’s kingdom and stand up against the prophets of Baal. 

Not only are the actions of Barzillai vital for the church today, but also the location of his compassion on David. Scripture reports that Barzillai brought gifts to David in the transjordan region at a place called Mahanaim. Mahanaim appears earlier in God’s grand story when Jacob returned to the region and was anticipating coming face to face with his brother Esau, whom he had deceived years earlier. At Mahanaim, Jacob formed one camp, and “angels of God met him” there, forming a 2nd camp, where Jacob proclaimed the name Mahanaim as “two camps.” These angels ministered to Jacob and restored him after his long journey, all while preparing him for the difficult task of reconciling with Esau, whom Jacob had broken covenant with and violated hesed by stealing his birthright. Further, God made his covenant with Jacob there (Genesis 32:1-12), establishing the location as a spiritual place for God’s chosen people. This place where David was ministered to by Barzillai, had reverberations back to Jacob and the experience of hesed and true covenantal restoration with his brother. In this specific place in all the earth, God reached out to two hurting men, beaten by the brokenness of life, and called them to be His chosen people. 

Reflections

The importance of space for believers today is underscored by the place of Mahanaim and its relationship to the concept of walking in covenant with one another, as well as God’s chosen place of intercession for Jacob and David. This is what K. Joshua Christiansen defines as a spiritual space, a place with both historical and experiential implications. Spiritual spaces are where God reveals Himself in covenantal ways, and where Christians are called to remember the experience of God intervening in our lives. Although not addressed in The Gift of Barzillai, the concept of a spiritual space is very similar to that of an Ebenezer. According to John MacArthur, Ebenezer literally means “stone of help” and was used as a physical reminder in a place as a stone that would last for the ages and remind the people of what God has done for them. An Ebenezer signifies a place where God interceded on our behalf. Ebenezers exist within spiritual spaces to serve as visual cues and aids for the invisible power of God working in our lives visibly. While it is not apparent that either Jacob or David erected a stone as an Ebenezer to memorialize Mahanaim, it would be an exemplary space in which to do so. I make the correlation to Ebenezers with spiritual spaces very purposefully, because establishing and remembering spiritual spaces, both with and without Ebenezers, has also faded out of practice within the church. How powerful would it be to create a physical artifact within a special place where God reached into our muck and mire and reminded us of His goodness? That artifact would then inspire us to live out hesed with others and remind others of God’s goodness through their struggles as well. 

 It is vital then for Christians to consider what our own spiritual spaces and places are where we could establish an Ebenezer. There are two places that stand out from my own life. My spiritual spaces would be considered mundane locations to others, but are places of intimacy between myself and God the Father because they are places where He reminded me of who He is and His plan for my life. Freshman year at Calvin College (now Calvin University) in Grand Rapids, Michigan, I wrestled with loneliness, depression, and the difficulty of adjusting to a new environment far away from my parents. At the time, though I verbalized that my hope was in Jesus, my actions were telling that I was truly placing my hope and trust not in Jesus but in human intimacy, by seeking a female partner to fulfill me. In the Spring of 2010 I was overcome with feelings of rejection from the girl I was infatuated with, and that rejection drove me into a dark depression. On weekend nights I wandered the campus, crying out to God, seeking more than the deep pain and separation I felt from a lack of female intimacy. Strangely enough, I found comfort in a place no one would ever guess. Not in the chapel prayer rooms. Not in the pond by the seminary. It was in the bushes by the southside of the science building. At night I would sit with my back against the bricks behind the bushes and be screened from any peering eyes. There I could sit and pray and express myself to God through the tears. In that place I found a closeness to the Creator, not enough to surrender my brokenness and my desire for a female partner to Him, but His whisper gave me the strength to face each day, despite the weight I was carrying of not feeling good enough for the person I wanted to be wanted by. Throughout my four years at Calvin I would return to those bushes while I continued to struggle with thoughts of inadequacy and I cherish that spot dearly still today. When self-doubt washed over me in the ten years since graduating, I’ve wanted to go back and listen to God’s quiet peace and calm in that serene, obscured place. 

There is another place where God met me in the depths of my darkness. In 2015 my struggle with depression spiraled ever downward until I reached one of the lowest points of my life. One rainy day, I was out running on the Freedom Trail in Kent, Ohio. At a particular point there is a bridge crossing over the Cuyahoga River. In the downpour I stopped my run in the middle of the bridge and stood there, staring at the rain-swelled waters. The urge to fling myself into the rushing river tugged at me. I no longer wanted to be in this twisted world. I could leave it behind. I didn’t feel like I belonged or was wanted. This is what happens when you put your trust in a romantic relationship to fulfill you instead of submitting to Christ and allowing Him to sustain you. I was seconds from climbing over the railing when I felt God’s quiet comforting presence on me. If I gave up now then all He had brought me through to that point was wasted. He took captive my thoughts and filled me with purpose again. I knew He still had plans for me, I simply did not know what they were yet. But knowing He had a plan for me was enough. I was not destined to find out what those roaring waters felt like. That physical bridge is a place where Jesus crafted a spiritual bridge to my soul and saved me. My Mahanaim where God called me to continue on. There is no marker or Ebenezer there today, simply a mid-point on the bridge to visually jog my memory when I still cross it on my runs. Where I am reminded of His goodness to break into a rebellious life and rescue me from succumbing to the dark thoughts that tormented me. 

It is fitting that God chose to meet me in my pain and anguish not in beautiful locations, but in the completely mundane. God speaks to us and connects with us in the everyday places. Spiritual spaces are not defined by the surrounding geographical majesty, but are the spots where Christians have beautiful defining experiences with Jesus interceding for us in our broken lives. Further, the concept of creating spiritual spaces is intertwined with reclaiming all the earth for God’s glory. The Fall in Genesis not only separated God’s children from Him through sin, but also gave over dominion over the earth to the princes of darkness (Ephesians 6:12). But their dominion lacks finality. Throughout scripture, God called His people to establish markers to remember Him by (Joshua 4:1-10), but God’s plan extends beyond the immediate purpose of a physical artifact to remind His children of His goodness. When Abram built an altar to God at the oak in Shechem and at his camp in the hill country, the altar not only served as the means of communing with God, but more importantly claims that place for God as a spiritual space, who appeared to Abram there (Genesis 12:4-8). Everywhere God meets with us, and where we go to establish His Kingdom in the now while we wait for Jesus’ triumphant return, we are taking back all the earth as bastions of holiness for Him. Inch by inch the earth is being redeemed. 

As I reflect on hesed and on who God provided to walk with me through my life, it is difficult for me to identify if any of those who walked with me truly understood hesed. But needing to fully comprehend this concept is not a requirement for God’s power to work through it. God will use us for His purpose when we have surrendered to Him. I only make this distinction because I have not experienced hesed as exemplified by Barzillai and David, in that it extended over years and was an enduring covenantal bond. There were moments where an individual met me in my brokenness and may have only thought of themselves as being a friend, but I can see now how God was working through them in that moment with a holy power beyond friendship. 

In the summer of 2005 my family moved to New Hampshire, a process that was both very difficult for me to handle but also pivotal in shaping who I am today. That fall I was a freshman in a new school, after only going to public school for junior high for the two years prior in Pennsylvania (I had been homeschooled until 7th grade). In a new town and new school, and as an introverted socially awkward freshman boy, making friendships did not come easily. But God provided someone that year to ease the transition. Lisbeth was a senior in my Spanish 3 class, and she sensed the struggle I was going through internally. She became an ear for me both in class and on the phone at home in the evenings. I was able to express my thoughts and be myself with her, aiding in my transition that year. Senior girls do not normally make the effort to befriend freshman boys but I can see God’s compassion worked through her that year. She continually spoke God’s truth into my life and we often discussed how God was working in our lives. She always had a scripture on her heart. God worked through her to coax me out of my shell. Lisbeth humbled herself, went outside of her comfort zone and lived out hesed the way God intended Christians to live out with each other. 

In the summer of 2010 I worked at a camp in Colorado, at Snow Mountain Ranch. I was there with other Calvin students on a leadership program, but a large contingent of students staffing the camp were also there through a Navigator program. My role that summer was in housekeeping, which was also predominantly staffed by the Navigator students, who I found myself growing with in Christ more than the other Calvin students. That summer, my unhealthy coping mechanism of dealing with the aforementioned rejection of that spring was to turn my attention to other women (remember at that time I was yearning for a female to fulfill me instead of the hope that comes from Jesus). As I worked alongside the Navigators, I let my heart grow too attached too quickly and my coping mechanism opened up my heart to additional hurt. One evening my heart was overcome by jealousy after seeing someone I thought I had been growing close to go joyriding with another man in his jeep into the mountains. As I walked to the camp cafeteria for dinner, openly shedding tears, a vehicle stopped by me. I recognized the driver as Tiana, one of the Navigators but not someone I was working with day to day and had only interacted with briefly a few times before that evening. She asked if I wanted to go to a birthday party for one of the camp workers (who I was acquainted with) at a putt-putt golf place and I obliged. Tiana barely knew me before that moment, but she invited me into her vehicle, and biblically encouraged me on the drive to and from the party. While I am unable to recall the exact words she spoke to me, I remember we both shared stories of rejections, and that she spoke God’s hope and truth into my life. God poured compassion on me that evening through Tiana and shifted my perspective. For the rest of that summer, I was no longer preoccupied with my focus on female intimacy, but on growing in Jesus. Tiana’s act has undertones of hesed – God breaking into our lives through acts of compassion and covenantal bond. After that summer Tiana and I continued to pray for each other until our lives drifted apart too far by the distance of being at different colleges. God’s plan was not for us to continue this relationship on end; only to shape who I was at that time. He knew exactly what I needed and provided it. 

With hesed and being a gift to others like Barzillai, submit your heart to Jesus and draw close to Him. Only by being close to Him can you hear His prompting and be ready to be used by Him, like Lisbeth and Tiana were in my life. As Christians we fall short when we become so preoccupied with ourselves we neglect to care for other believers. God made us to be together (Proverbs 27:17). In my personal life, I have failed to live up to God’s plan by letting the chains of social anxiety contain me. I’ve allowed my fear of interaction with others to rule my life instead of giving sovereignty to Jesus. Being bold in my faith and trusting in Him to reach out to others is an area I am learning to entrust to Jesus and give Him authority over. It is difficult because truly walking with others requires a degree of transparency, vulnerability, and humility. It opens ourselves up to the pain and hurt that the other is feeling. Coming alongside someone in need and walking with them is a process that says “I see you, I feel what you feel, and I will help you carry it. I will walk with you and shoulder your burden until you are restored into Jesus’ arms.” This process demands our time, our attention, and our energy, but it is what will make a distinction between Christians and those still living under the princes of darkness. Living together in covenant through persevering kindness, love, and loyalty is what sets us apart from the world and curates a community acting as a restorative force through hesed to redeem all the earth for His glory! It is what we were created to be and do.