Noli insipientium iniurias pati: #FathersDay sermon based on II Samuel 18:33

Below is the 1936 Father's Day sermon "A Father's Failure" from Methodist preacher Reverend Clovis G. Chappell

that appears in his book: Chappell, Clovis G. Chappell's Special Day Sermons. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983. Print.

I included short editorial comments, such as giving chapter and verse of the Bible verses cited in Chappell's sermon, between square brackets [] I enclosed longer discursive comments, such as poem titles of verses Chappell quoted, between scissor snips ✂️---------------------------------------

A FATHER'S FAILURE
(FATHER'S DAY)

"O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!"

II SAMUEL 18:33

The death of Absalom, hanging from a tree by his hair
(14th-century German miniature).

Here is an exceedingly bitter cry. It tends to make our blood run cold after all these years. There are tears upon it that have not been dried by the hot suns of centuries. Who is this that is giving way to such an abandon of grief? Surely it must be some woman, some mother perchance, whose empty arms are aching for the laddie that she has loved and lost. No, that is not the case. This is not the wail of a woman, but of a man; not of a mother, but of a father. It is King David breaking his heart over what he regards as the greatest failure of his life.

I

Wherein has David failed? Surely his failure is not full-orbed. In many respects he has been vastly successful. The story of his thrilling career reads like a romance. He has come up from the ranks. Once he was only a shepherd lad with no great standing even in his own family. But he has a mind that was brilliant as the kiss of sunlight upon clear water. He was possessed of a dauntless courage. If tradition is correct, he had the genius of a poet. While, at his worst, he was a sinner; at his best, he was a great saint. Then he was vastly attractive. Upon all with whom he came into contact he cast a spell that was ll but irresistible. Then, too, he was a practical man of affairs with his feet firmly fixed on the ground. He was a many-sided man, eminently fitted by nature to make good in any situation.

And make good he did. He climbed by rapid strides till he became king, not by right of birth, but by right of ability. As king he served his people well. He proved himself at once a great soldier and a great statesman. He soon succeeded in welding a few scattered, quarreling tribes into a compactly organized nation. He made a success financially. Much of the vast wealth that went into building of the Temple came through his hands. In fact so wisely did he reign, that his people, throughout their subsequent history, looked back to his day as the Golden Age of Israel. Had he lived in out day we should doubtless have written a book about him entitled "From Shepherd's Tent to King's Palace." This book would certainly have found a place in "The Success Series" and have become a best seller.

In what, then, did this greatly successful man fail? He failed as a father. As a result of that failure, the body of his handsome, gifted, and favorite son is now lying, a crushed wreck in a pit in the wilderness. Therefore, while others would surely have been thrilled by the reading of David's biography, I seriously doubt if he himself could have read it with any real satisfaction. The very brilliancy of his success in certain directions must have served to give only the greater emphasis to his failure in another. As he read he would have realized tat his winnings had been many and worthful. He had certainly won a secure place in the hearts of his people. But in spite of all this, the book would have left him cold. He would have been made to feel that, after all, he had majored on minors, and that his success, though very real, had been bought at too great a price.

And this is the record of so many men who are otherwise successful. I have in mid a certain gentleman who out of small beginnings succeeded in building a fortune of several millions. His brilliant success as a financier blazoned his name to the world and made him at once an object of envy and honor. But his wealth, I am told by one who knew him well, became a weight instead of wings. It caught and held him somewhat as a piece of flypaper catches and holds a fly. In his efforts to be free, he was at times little better than a madman. Of course he had little or no time for his family. His boys grew into soft and pulpy manhood. They were far less suited to cope with their situation than their hard-working father had been to cope with his. When he died, his gold seemed to sweep over them a bit like an avalanche. They were completely swamped by their unearned wealth. Thus this father, while proving himself a conspicuous success in the building of a fortune, proved himself a yet more conspicuous failure in the building of men. [I'm not certain who Chappell is subtweeting with this anecdote].

A few years ago, at one of our state fairs, a crowd was gathered about a prize hog. That hog was about all that a hog ought to be. His hair was parted in the middle and nicely combed. His hoofs were manicured in such a fashion as to have roused the envy of a movie star. Everybody who saw that hog realized that the man who raised him knew his business. Now, the boy who was set to look after this hog seemed to have been chosen as a foil to further emphasize his perfection. He was a little wizen-faced, hollow-chested, hatchet-heeled fellow who seemed bent upon burning up all the cigarettes in the world, and that as quickly as possible. He would not have walked a mile, I dare say, for his favorite brand, for he did not seem to have strength enough. He had to evidently found his unlucky strike [guess a pun on a brand name]

But the most startling fact about the whole situation was this: The father of the boy and the owner of the hog was the same man. In the hog business this father was a huge success. In the boy business he was an utter failure. And in spite of his vast abilities this also was one of the tragedies of the life of David.

II

But why does David take his failure so hard? Why is his heart so completely broken?

1. It is broken because of his deep and tender love for the son that he has lost. This I say, in spite of the fact that he was only a father. Fathers are not generally credited with doing much loving, you know. They are not supposed greatly to care. To be convinced that this is the common view, it is only necessary to contrast the celebration of Mother's Day with that of Father's Day. On the former we come together in greater numbers. We come with our largest handkerchiefs, for the atmosphere is redolent of sentiment, and we are ready at the slightest provocation to burst into tears. On Father's Day we still bring our handkerchiefs, but we use them to stifle our yawns rather than to dry our tears. However unlike the Master dad may be in other respects, he is at least like him in this, that he has made himself of no reputation.

Now, this lack of popularity is, of course, in part, his own fault, but it is not altogether so. In my opinion it is at once unfortunate and unfair. I believe, as another has suggested, that a golden halo for mother is altogether fitting. It blesses both us who give and her that receives. But I believe also that it would be good, if we could find in our hearts to do so, to give a "little tin halo" to father now and then. It might serve to encourage him to do better. Then I ask it in the name of fair play. As I think of my own mother I think of one who was sunny and full of laughter, with never a thought of herself. As I think of my father, I think of one who was more rugged and stern, but whose unselfish devotion to his own could no more be doubted than hers. David is a father, but in spite of the fact his heart is broken over the loss of his boy.

2. Then David is crushed because his loss is without remedy. There are some mistakes that we can correct. Having blundered, we may promise ourselves to do better next time. But in many instances there is no next time. That is the tragic note in that "exceeding bitter cry" of Esau. [ Genesis 27:34 ] We read that afterward when he would have inherited the blessing, he found no place for repentance. That does not mean that God refused to forgive him. It only means that he found no way of undoing the past. [ Esau was the victim of Jacob / Israel 's lying thieving treachery, tho ] He could not get back into yesterday and have placed in his hands again the big opportunities that were his on life's bright morning long ago. What was done could never be undone. It is this realization that makes the grief of David all the more bitter. He is facing the fact that of the things that have no next time, one, at least, is the rearing of a son. How many things he now feels that he could do for Absalom were he only a little boy again! But that can never be. Therefore, there is the agony of utter hopelessness in his cry, "O my son Absalom, O my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee!"
[ 2 Samuel 18:33 ]

3. But the note of supreme bitterness in the sorrow of David, that which brings his grief to its tragic climax, is the haunting fear that the boy that he has lost hopelessly he has also lost needlessly. He has lost him when he might have saved him. "Had I only been a better father to him, had I only acted differently," he keeps telling his tortured soul, "then he would be with me now instead of yonder in the pit, under the stones. I have lost him and it's all my fault." This is the nagging fear that becomes a conviction that he cannot shake off. It is a conviction that bites like a serpent and stings like an adder. [ Proverbs 23:32 describes the effect of wine versus an unfilial child]. His loss would have been hard enough if he could have persuaded himself that he had done his best. But this he cannot do. His hell is that such a persuasion is impossible.

One day in Texas a farmer was in the field plowing cotton. With him were his two small boys. He looked up from his task to see a large dog coming toward them. This dog was snapping at the cotton stalks, and the farmer saw that he was mad. At once he put himself between his boys and the dog. He told them to run for refuge to a nearby cotton bin, while he kept the dog away. The boys made good their escape. But not so the father. He was forced to fight the dog, and that with no weapon but his pocket knife. As a result he was bitten from his face to his feet. Medical science could do nothing for him. But during his lucid intervals, as death crept upon him, he would look into the face of his wife with a smile and say, "Don't you worry about me. I saved our boys." And he went out to meet God unafraid. I think he could have done so, even if the boys had died with him, seeing that he did his best. [ Chappell can really be Debbie Downer at times - it's not bad enough the father in his original anecdote was mauled to death by a rabid dog, Chappell has to imagine both of his sons killed, too ]

But to lose when we might have done better, that is "sorrow's crown of sorrow." And that is the pathetic plight of David. He has lost his son -- lost him hopelessly, and lost him needlessly.

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"sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things." is a line from ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON's poem "Locksley Hall"which seem appropriate since Tennyson also employs an anecdote about dogs:

Comfort? comfort scorn'd of devils! this is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

Drug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof,
In the dead unhappy night, and when the rain is on the roof.

Like a dog, he hunts in dreams, and thou art staring at the wall,
Where the dying night-lamp flickers, and the shadows rise and fall.

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III

How did David come to make this terrible failure?

He did not do so, I am sure, because Absalom was born a traitor. He was born with a capacity for treachery, but he was also born with a capacity for faithfulness and loyalty. "What manner of child shall this be?" was asked by a group who stood about the cradle of John the Baptist. [ Luke 1:66 ] Is there any sure answer to such a question? The Catholic Church has always believed that there is. As it looks into the face of a little child, it says without hesitation, "This child will be Catholic." The Jews believe that there is an answer to that question. As they look into the face of a baby, they do not hesitate to say, "This child will be a Jew." But Protestantism is often far less sure. That is one of our chief weaknesses. Too often we answer, "The Lord only knows!" And then hurry about our business or pleasure. Yet both the Scriptures and experience teach that if we train a child in the way he shall go, when he is old, he will not depart from it.

If, then, David did not fail because failure was inevitable, why, I repeat, did he fail? There are, I think, two outstanding reasons.

1. He failed because he shifted the responsibility for the care of his son upon the shoulders of others instead of taking it upon himself. What he did in this last scene is, I think, typical of his entire relationship to Absalom. When his soldiers were going out to battle, a battle that was to determine whether he himself was to keep his crown and his life, it was not of these that he was thinking. He was thinking only of his loved and treacherous son. "Deal gently for my sake," he told his officers in the presence of the army. [ 2 Samuel 18:5 ] But when the army had marched out of sight, he was doubtless very uneasy. "My officers are good and loyal men," he probably kept telling himself. "Still I am greatly afraid for my son. I should have gone myself. Yes, at all costs I should have made the safety of my boy a personal matter."

But who is that coming across the plain? It is a messenger. The king is all solicitude, but his anxiety is only for his son. "Victory!" the messenger shouts through panting lips. But the father has no ear for such a message. There is but one question, "Is the young man Absalom safe?" [ 2 Samuel 18:29 ] The messenger did not have the heart to tell, but yonder comes another, "Victory!" he shouts also. But David asks that same eager, anxious question, "Is the young man Absalom safe?" Then comes the tragic answer, and David is a broken old man. "O my son Absalom," he sobs, "I am so sorry now that I did not go out even at the cost of my life. Better a million times that I should be lying under the stones than you." [ 2 Samuel 18:33 ]

Now, what David did in this instance, I repeat, he has done through the years. It is true that he has a good excuse for his conduct. We are in no sense disposed to judge him harshly. He has been a man of many cares. He has been burdened by matters of state. Naturally he has not had much time for his children. But we cannot shut our eyes to the pathos of it all. For, as a result, he never really got acquainted with Absalom, never gained his confidence, never won his heart. In his younger years, when he had a broken toy, Absalom never thought of going to his father about it. Nor did he think of doing so in later years when he had a broken heart. Father and son were both most fascinating, but they never became friends. And yet David gave Absalom everything except himself.. But failing to give himself, he failed altogether. Thus he lost a treasure far more priceless than his crown.

How David would have envied the humble father of whom his son could say this:

"He's the best thing, daddy, is
When he ain't got the rheumatiz,
Gives me pennies and good advice,
'Bout keeping clean and being nice,
Saying please, and don't deceive,
Handkerchief, instead of sleeve.
Seems just like 'at daddy knew,
He was once a small boy, too.
Second table for him, I spec,
With nothing but the chicken neck.
Anyhow he always says,
Give the kid the best there is.
And when Ma sends me off to bed,
He always takes the light ahead,
And holds my hand and talks maybe,
About the things that used to be,
When he and Uncle was little boys,
And all about their games and toys,
What am I gonner be? Gee whiz,
I'm gonner be like daddy is.
I'd rather be like him, 'ijing,
Than president or anything.
He's like Ma says angels is
When he ain't got the rheumatiz."

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It took me awhile to trace down the primary source for this poem. The poem is entitled "Daddy" written by Roland A. Nichols and included in the anthology RODEHEAVER, HOMER A. L. V. A. N. Worth While Poems: Waif Gems of Verse Gathered from Here and There and Recited in Public... Readings (classic Reprint). S.l.: FORGOTTEN BOOKS, 2016. Print.

An online version of Rodeheaver's book can be found here with a slightly different version of Nichols' verse written in slang vernacular:

And the sentiment that Nichols summarized in one line "Handkerchief, instead of sleeve" was expounded upon in an entire blog post: McKay, Kate, and Brett McKay. “Why Carry a Handkerchief?” The Art of Manliness, 26 May 2018, www.artofmanliness.com/articles/every-man-should-carry-a-handkerchief/.

"Handkerchiefs are, well, pretty handy. While women carry a purse stocked with things like tissue packs (and enough supplies to survive on a desert island for several days), most men do not. And yet our noses run just as often as our female counterparts. When you carry a hankie, you don’t have to go scrounging around for a tissue to deal with your dripping shnoz or wipe your nose on your sleeve."

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But David was too busy. As so many today, he "passed the buck," lost his boy, and broke his own heart.

2. The second reason for David's failure was his bad example. There was a time, after he had become a father, that he allowed himself a most tragic visit to the far country. He became a prodigal. In utter disregard to his obligations to others, he took a woman to whom he had no right [ Bethsheba ]. Later he murdered her husband to conceal his crime [ Uriah - who may, or may not, have been black ].

uhm...I never heard that either Uriah the Hittite &/or Goliath the Giant were black - but some random website is accusing David of being racist for ethnically cleansing black people in the Middle East https://t.co/svYCh2qBH9 pic.twitter.com/OYHYt1Vbne
— 🎼AdagioForStrings🎻 (@adagioforstring) May 24, 2018

No wonder that when his oldest son wanted a woman for himself, he took her ruthlessly, even though she was his half sister. Had not his father set him the example? And that father, having done so, dared not punish his brutal son. Thus Absalom felt called upon to take vengeance into his own hands and punish his brother. All this brought an ever-widening chasm between himself and his father until it ended in utter tragedy. No wonder, therefore, that David felt, and rightly so, that he had the blood of his ruined boy on his own hands. He had employed two most effective methods of destruction, a bad example and neglect.

But, you answer, was not David a good man? Yes, David repented of his terrible sin and God in his mercy forgave him. But, while David's repentance brought him personal salvation, it did not bring salvation to his wayward boy. David made one excursion into the far country, and Absalom followed his steps; but when David came back, so far as this son was concerned, he came back alone. That is a tragedy that has happened times without number. Years ago I had a neighbor who was the father of a large family. He was a drinking man, though not a drunkard. He was friendly toward religion, though he seldom went to church. But when he was between fifty and sixty years of age, he was soundly and happily converted. How hard he tried to atone for his wasted years! How eager he was to reach his children, all of whom had now grown to manhood and womanhood! I have seen him stand up in the little village church to read a bit, only to burst into tears. But his children were not softened by these tears -- they were only shamed by them. They went with him into the far country, but the poor broken father came back alone. May God save us from such a tragedy! That he may do so, let us as parents in the fear of God take the responsibility for the welfare of our children upon ourselves.

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While searching for author and title of Roland A. Nichols "Daddy" poem, I found that this entire sermon including poem was included in book Giddens, Howard P, and Michael L. Ruffin. Why Be a Christian?: The Sermons of Howard P. Giddens. Macon, Ga: Mercer University Press, 2007. Print.

An online version of Giddens book is found on google books

There are a couple of pages missing from the online book. Unfortunately, the page that includes the beginning of this sermon that would indicate whether Giddens gave credit to Chappell are missing online

Since Chappell published his book in 1936 and Giddens book was published in 2007, it appears that he clearly has claim to precedence. However, the introduction of Giddens' book asserts that Giddens wrote his sermons starting in the 1930s

"The sermons in this collection were prepared and preached by Dr. Giddens between the 1930s and the 1960s. The earliest ones were written while he was a pastor of the New Castle (Kentucky) Baptist Church, during his years as a seminary student. The latest ones were written while he was pastor of the First Baptist Church of Athens, Georgia, his last pastorate before going to Mercer to teach. He filed each sermon in an individual envelope on which he wrote the title of the sermon, the scripture text, and the places at which and the dates on which he preached it. Many of these sermons were pulled from envelopes on which a long list of places and dates is written. I like to think of those as his greatest hits."

I read through the Foreword of Giddens' book and saw no mention of Chappell, so I searched the text for his name and found that neither Giddens nor the editor of his book, James C. Elder, Jr provided any credit to Mr. Chappell:

Google books version of Chappell's book does not provide a preview option, but it does allow limited search capability. I search of Chappell's book for Giddens' name returned no results:

Since Giddens was a seminar student in the 1930s at the same time Chappell was already a published author, my hypothesis is that the Father's Day sermon in Howard P. Giddens' book was quite possibly plagiarized from Chappell's book. In fairness, Giddens may have given credit to Chappell on the pages missing from the online version of his book, so I'll reserve judgment and as Jonathan Edwards wrote, we're all sinners in the hands of an angry God and we all need his grace and mercy to get to heaven:

Ecumenically speaking - we're all sinners 🕷️🔥 in the hands of an Angry God & we all need His Grace🕊️ https://t.co/yqeUAT7lEj pic.twitter.com/i4mu60zdob
— 🎼AdagioForStrings🎻 (@adagioforstring) October 17, 2017

Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God in Works of Jonathan Edwards, Sermons and Discourses, 1739-1742 (WJE Online Vol. 22) , Ed. Harry S. Stout (Yale Univ. Press, 1957-2008),404-418

"The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect, over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked; his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are ten thousand times so abominable in his eyes as the most hateful venomous serpent is in ours. You have offended him infinitely more than ever a stubborn rebel did his prince: and yet 'tis nothing but his hand that holds you from falling into the fire every moment; 'tis to be ascribed to nothing else, that you did not go to hell the last night; that you was suffered to awake again in this world, after you closed your eyes to sleep: and there is no other reason to be given why you have not dropped into hell since you arose in the morning, but that God's hand has held you up; there is no other reason to be given why you han't gone to hell since you have sat here in the house of God, provoking his pure eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending his solemn worship: yea, there is nothing else that is to be given as a reason why you don't this very moment drop down into hell."

I'm Catholic and am usually only vaguely aware of the happier stories that end up on stained glass windows, like elephants in Noah's ark and Moses with the ten commandments. Rape and murder at a sheep sheering contest usually don't end up in liturgical artwork, at least in the suburban churches that I attended.

More on the soap opera of Absalom and his dysfunctional family can be found here Fletcher, Elizabeth. “MAACAH, Bible Woman: Wife of King David, Mother of Absalom, Tamar.” Women In The Bible, 2006, www.womeninthebible.net/women-bible-old-new-testaments/maacah-davids-wife/.

I can't find the stained glass windows of Noah to illustrate my happy window theory. I could only find photos of the stained glass windows of New Testament stories from Saint Patrick Cathedral in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania , the church I attended in my youth. My recollection, is that one side of the church had windows that illustrated Old Testament stories, and the other illustrated these New Testament stories.