Back in college, I went through a season when I was treated rather unfairly in a professional setting.

I wasn’t paid what I should have been paid and I wasn’t treated the way I should have been treated.  I felt disrespected, undervalued, and incredibly frustrated.

It eventually boiled over into a shouting match with someone with whom I worked.  It was a heated exchange and anything but Christlike.  Harsh words were spoken by both and when the conversation was over, I stormed out of the office ready to quit.  I was done.  I had no intention of coming back. 

As I made my way out of the office, I ran into my friend, Steve, who was out weeding the front gardens.  He could tell I was in a bad place and asked how I was doing.  In an uncharacteristic moment of complete vulnerability, I told him everything.  I shared every grievance, frustration, hurt feeling, and ill thought I had.  As I spoke, he just listened.  He never interrupted or interjected.  He just stood silent and let me rant.

When I was finished and had no more fire left to share, he spoke these words:

“Bobby, that really stinks.  But do me a favor – don’t become Absalom.”

I had no idea what he meant.  Don’t be Absalom?  What in the world did that mean?

My friend went on to explain the story of Absalom.  He was one of King David’s sons who staged a coup and rebelled against his father.  While any story like this is inherently tragic, my friend explained that in many ways, Absalom’s anger and reasons for rebelling were quite understandable.  David wasn’t the man he used to be.  David wasn’t leading as he should.  David wasn’t being the king God had anointed him to be. Absalom’s frustrations were fair – even right.  

But here was the problem: While Absalom was right about David’s failings, he was wrong in how he responded to them.  He was right in his assessment, but he was wrong in his action.

This can happen to any of us, can’t it?  We can be right and wrong in a single breath.  We can correctly discern how something is, and then, in the very next instance, be wrong in how we react and respond to it. 

The moment my buddy shared this word with me, I knew he was right.  I was still mad.  I was still frustrated.  I was still being mistreated.  But I was also in error.  I was on my way to becoming Absalom.  In my perceived righteousness, I allowed my frustration with the way I was being wronged to justify me acting wrongly. 

To this day, I am forever grateful to this friend.  His willingness to listen, to give me space to vent, and then to compassionately call me out so that I might repent, literally changed the trajectory of my life (this is not an exaggeration or understatement).  His five minutes of uninterrupted listening followed by his gentle, biblical rebuke significantly altered the course of my life. 

While this garden-side conversation took place almost 20 years ago, I think about this experience at least once a week.  As I’ve reflected on this memory over the last few weeks, I’ve found myself thinking more and more about the life of Absalom and how in so many ways, his story comes to us not simply as an example, but as a warning.  Absalom’s story is a complicated one, full of potential and sadness, possibility and shame, but in 2 Samuel 15 we begin to see the foundations of Absalom’s rebellion being laid.

We read:

In the course of time, Absalom provided himself with a chariot and horses and with fifty men to run ahead of him. He would get up early and stand by the side of the road leading to the city gate. Whenever anyone came with a complaint to be placed before the king for a decision, Absalom would call out to him, “What town are you from?” He would answer, “Your servant is from one of the tribes of Israel.”  Then Absalom would say to him, “Look, your claims are valid and proper, but there is no representative of the king to hear you.”   And Absalom would add, "If only I were appointed judge in the land!"~ 2 Samuel 15:1-4 (NIV)

Did you catch that?  Did you hear the seeds of Absalom’s rebellion being sown?

The rebellion of Absalom didn’t begin with violence or some shocking demonstration of betrayal.  It started ever so subtly with words.

The rebellion of Absalom began most unassumingly with grumbling and complaints.  If only I were appointed judge… If only I were in charge…If only I… The rebellion of Absalom wasn’t launched by a fleet of ships or a menacing army; the rebellion of Absalom was launched by the words of his mouth and the thoughts of his heart.  If only I… No wonder James 1:19 tells us to be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger!

Our words bear witness to our inner being. Jesus said, “The mouth speaks what the heart is full of” (Luke 6:45)  If actions speak louder than words, words whisper the true condition of our hearts.  Our mouths reveal the actual measure of our maturity. What cannot be seen – our inner being - is revealed by the words we speak, and if we’re not careful, the words we speak may one day become the works of our hands.

Interestingly, we see this pattern all throughout the scriptures.

The grumbling of Absalom culminated with rebellion and violence against his own father and people. 

The grumbling of Israel in the wilderness gave way to idolatry and the creation of the golden calf. 

The grumbling of Michal against David led to barrenness, isolation, and hardness of heart. 

The grumbling of Judas eventually gave way to his betrayal and rejection of Jesus. 

Ultimately, grumbling is the language of those who have forgotten the power of God.  Complaining is the language of those who have lost sight of the purposes of God in their lives. 

Words are never just words – they bear witness to who we are becoming. 

James 3:9-10 says, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing.  My brothers and sisters, this should not be.”

As someone whose words often get ahead and away from him, that last line is so convicting to me.  My brothers and sisters…

This…should…not…be.

So, moving forward, what will flow from our mouths?  Will it be grumbling or grace?  Protest or praise?  Complaints or compassion?  Curses or Christ? 

Almost 20 years ago, I chose grumbling, protests, complaints, and curses.  20 years ago, I was more concerned with my rights than what is right, good, and godly.  20 years ago, I was on pace to become someone whose life bore no resemblance to the God I claimed to love and follow.  But 20 years ago, I was humbled in my grumbling, and while I'm far from perfect, I'm so thankful for those Christ-filled words that lovingly rebuked me that day by the garden.

That was then, this is now, and today is a new day.  So, whatever you choose today, I invite you to take the advice of my dear friend, Steve: “Don’t become Absalom.”