II Samuel 17:20-18:26

This is going to be such a blast! Get ready to dive into a story that’s got more twists and turns than a hike through the woods at camp. We’re going to pull out some serious wisdom from this ancient text, just like we used to find hidden treasures on the trails. Let’s sing it out!

Hook

Remember those late-night campfire songs, the ones where we’d all huddle close, singing about heroes and journeys and the big wide world? There’s one that always comes to mind when I think about epic stories:

(Sing to the tune of "Kumbaya" or a simple, repetitive niggun)

"Oh, the road is long, the road is long, Oh, the road is long, my friends. But with friends beside, and truth to guide, Oh, the road is long, my friends."

That feeling of shared adventure, of facing the unknown together, that’s what’s bubbling up in our Torah portion today. It’s a story of rebellion, of clever plans, and of a king on the run. It’s got drama, it’s got suspense, and it’s got lessons that are as relevant now as they were thousands of years ago. We’re going to explore how this ancient narrative, filled with the dust of the wilderness and the whispers of spies, can illuminate our own lives, our families, and our homes. Think of this as our grown-up, indoor campfire, where the fire is the wisdom of Torah, and we’re all gathered around to feel its warmth and light.

Context

This passage from II Samuel is a pivotal moment in the saga of King David’s life. His son, Absalom, has staged a rebellion, and David is forced to flee Jerusalem. The text we’re looking at is a snapshot of the intense strategic maneuvering and the high stakes involved in this internal conflict.

The Wilderness of Strategy

• A Kingdom Divided: The core of this story is a civil war. Absalom, charismatic and popular, has managed to rally a significant portion of Israel against his father. This isn't just a family squabble; it's a challenge to the very foundation of David's kingship and the stability of the nation. The stakes are incredibly high, with the fate of the kingdom hanging in the balance.
• The Art of Counsel: We see two contrasting approaches to leadership and strategy presented here. Ahithophel, David's former advisor, offers a bold, swift, and ruthless plan. Hushai, another advisor who pretends to side with Absalom but is loyal to David, counters with a strategy that is both cunning and designed to exploit Absalom’s youthful impulsiveness. It’s a masterclass in political intrigue.
• The Whispering Wind: Imagine the wind carrying secrets through the trees, or the rustling of leaves as a spy moves through the underbrush. This is the backdrop of our story. Information is power, and the ability to gather intelligence and deliver it accurately is crucial. We see messengers risking their lives, hiding in wells, and using elaborate methods to get word to David. It’s a constant game of cat and mouse, played out across the landscape.

Text Snapshot

"Then Hushai said to Absalom, 'This time the advice that Ahithophel has given is not good. You know that your father and his men are courageous fighters, and they are as desperate as a bear in the wild robbed of her whelps. Your father is an experienced soldier, and he will not spend the night with the troops; even now he must be hiding in one of the pits or in some other place. And if any of them fall at the first attack, whoever hears of it will say, ‘A disaster has struck the troops that follow Absalom’; and even if he is a warrior with the heart of a lion, he will be shaken—for all Israel knows that your father and the soldiers with him are courageous fighters. So I advise that all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba—as numerous as the sands of the sea—be called up to join you, and that you yourself march into battle. When we come upon him in whatever place he may be, we’ll descend on him [as thick] as dew falling on the ground; and no one will survive, neither he nor any of the men with him.'"

Close Reading

This section is where the real magic happens, where we unpack the layers of meaning and discover how these ancient words can resonate in our modern lives. We’re going to dig deep, like we’re excavating a forgotten campsite, looking for the treasures buried beneath the surface.

Insight 1: The Power of "Bad" Advice (and Why It's Sometimes Good)

Let's zero in on the contrast between Ahithophel's advice and Hushai's. Ahithophel, a renowned strategist, proposes a lightning-fast strike: "Let me pick twelve thousand men and set out tonight in pursuit of David. I will come upon him when he is weary and disheartened, and I will throw him into a panic; and when all the troops with him flee, I will kill the king alone." This is aggressive, direct, and, on the surface, brilliant. It’s the kind of advice you might give to a startup founder looking for a quick market win.

But Hushai, the "Archite" (which might even suggest a connection to the land, to the earth, to rootedness), offers something different. He paints a picture of David not as a weakened fugitive, but as a formidable, seasoned warrior. He says David and his men are "desperate as a bear in the wild robbed of her whelps." This is a powerful image, isn't it? It evokes primal ferocity, the kind of protective instinct that drives a parent to defend their young at all costs. David, facing the potential loss of his kingdom and the threat to his family, is fighting with that same desperate courage.

Hushai’s advice is not about immediate annihilation. Instead, he advocates for a massive, overwhelming show of force: "all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba—as numerous as the sands of the sea—be called up to join you." He wants to crush David not with a surgical strike, but with sheer, unadulterated numbers. He describes the attack as descending "as thick as dew falling on the ground." This imagery is fascinating. Dew is gentle, pervasive, and ultimately inescapable. It suggests an overwhelming presence, a slow but certain submersion.

Now, here’s the crucial insight: The text explicitly states, "God had decreed that Ahithophel’s sound advice be nullified, in order that God might bring ruin upon Absalom." So, Ahithophel's advice was good, strategically sound even, but it wasn't God's plan for this moment. This is a profound theological statement, but it also has a practical implication for us.

What does this mean for our homes and families?

• The "Right" Answer Isn't Always the Loudest: Ahithophel’s plan was loud, decisive, and aimed for immediate victory. Hushai’s was about building momentum, overwhelming with sheer force, and playing the long game. In our families, we often feel pressure to have the "right" answer, the quick fix, the immediate solution to a problem. Whether it's a child’s tantrum, a marital disagreement, or a financial worry, we can be tempted by the "Ahithophel" approach – the aggressive, immediate solution. But sometimes, the "Hushai" approach – the one that requires patience, understanding, and a broader perspective – is actually more effective. It might not feel as decisive, as immediately satisfying, but it can lead to more lasting peace and growth. Think about a time you’ve rushed into a situation with a quick fix, only to realize later that a more nuanced, patient approach would have been better.
• Wisdom vs. Strategy: Ahithophel was a master strategist, a legend in his time. But his strategy was rooted in a specific, perhaps even self-serving, understanding of how to win. Hushai, while also strategic, seemed to tap into a deeper understanding of the human psyche and the dynamics of the situation. He understood David’s resilience and Absalom's susceptibility to grand gestures. In our families, we can become so focused on the how – the practical steps, the tactical maneuvers – that we forget the why. Why are we doing this? What are the underlying needs and emotions at play? True wisdom, like Hushai’s, often involves looking beyond the immediate strategy to understand the deeper currents. It’s about recognizing that sometimes, the most effective "strategy" is to foster understanding, to build connection, or even to allow a situation to unfold in a way that leads to a deeper lesson, even if it’s not the quickest win. It's about cultivating a family environment where open communication and empathy are valued over winning every argument or solving every problem instantly.

This is where the "God had decreed" part comes in. It reminds us that there are forces beyond our immediate control, and sometimes, what seems like the "best" plan can be divinely overridden. For us, this can translate to recognizing when our own plans, however well-intentioned, might not be aligned with a greater good or a deeper unfolding. It’s about humility, about understanding that we don’t always have all the answers, and that sometimes, letting go of our rigid strategies can open us up to unexpected blessings and growth.

Insight 2: The Burden of Information and the Courage of the Messenger

Now, let's talk about the messengers. The story of Jonathan and Ahimaaz, hidden in the well, is pure espionage drama. They are the vital link between David and his loyalists in Jerusalem. "Jonathan and Ahimaaz were staying at En-rogel, and a maidservant would go and bring them word and they in turn would go and inform King David. For they themselves dared not be seen entering the city."

The commentary from Rashi, Metzudat David, and others on "מיכל המים" (meichal hamayim) is fascinating. They grapple with the precise meaning of this phrase, translating it as "stream of water," "brook of water," or "water channel." The uncertainty itself highlights the precariousness of their situation. They are hiding by a water source, a place of life, but also a potential point of discovery. The fact that they are using a well and covering it with groats to avoid detection speaks volumes about the paranoia and the danger of the time.

Then, a boy spots them, and the chase is on. The woman ingeniously hides them in a well, a classic evasion tactic. When Absalom's men come looking, she misdirects them, saying they "crossed a bit beyond the water." The "meaning of Heb. uncertain" notes here, with various translations suggesting "the Jordan," emphasize how crucial accurate information was, and how easily it could be misinterpreted or deliberately obscured.

After the danger passes, they emerge and race to David. "They came up from the well and went and informed King David. They said to David, ‘Go and cross the water quickly, for Ahithophel has advised thus and thus concerning you.’" This message is life-saving. It allows David and his men to escape across the Jordan just in time.

The subsequent scene with the messengers, Ahimaaz and the Cushite, running to deliver news of the battle is equally poignant. Joab tries to withhold the devastating news of Absalom's death from David, sending a Cushite instead. But Ahimaaz, despite Joab's orders, insists on running. He wants to be the bearer of good news, to be the one who announces God's victory and David's vindication.

And then there's the devastating question: "Is my boy Absalom safe?" David asks this of both messengers. Ahimaaz, caught in the middle, offers a vague, "I saw a large crowd... but I don’t know what it was about." He knows the truth is too painful to deliver directly. The Cushite, however, delivers the brutal news indirectly: "May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rose against you to do you harm fare like that young man!" He’s essentially saying Absalom is dead.

What does this teach us about our homes and families?

• The Weight of Truth and the Art of Delivery: In our families, we are constantly exchanging information, sharing news, and giving updates. Sometimes, the information is simple – "Dinner's ready!" or "Can you pick up milk?" But often, it’s more complex. We have to deliver news that might be difficult, disappointing, or even upsetting. Like Joab trying to shield David from the full impact of Absalom's death, we often try to soften the blow, to protect our loved ones from pain. Ahimaaz’s struggle to deliver news he knows will devastate his king is a mirror of our own challenges. Think about delivering bad news to a child about a broken toy, a failed test, or a friend moving away. Or consider delivering difficult news to a spouse about a job loss or a health concern. The insight here is that the way we deliver information is as important as the information itself. It's about finding the right words, the right time, and the right tone. It's about empathy, about acknowledging the potential pain, and about offering support alongside the truth. Sometimes, like the Cushite, we might need to be more direct, even if it's uncomfortable. Other times, like Ahimaaz, we might need to tread carefully, offering comfort and reassurance even as we deliver difficult tidings. The goal isn't to avoid truth, but to deliver it with love and compassion, minimizing unnecessary hurt.
• The Courage to Be the Messenger (Even When It's Hard): The messengers in this story, particularly Ahimaaz, embody a certain kind of courage. They risk their lives to bring crucial information. Ahimaaz’s insistence on running, even when Joab tried to dissuade him, shows a desire to be involved, to be part of the unfolding events, and to deliver the news responsibly. His ultimate report, while incomplete regarding Absalom’s fate, is still an attempt to convey the positive outcome of the battle for David. In our families, we might not be running from assassins or dodging spies, but we do have roles that require us to be messengers. This could be the parent who has to tell their child about a difficult family situation, the spouse who has to share financial worries, or even the child who has to report a mistake they made. The courage lies in stepping up and doing it, even when we’re afraid of the reaction, the consequences, or the sadness it might bring. It’s about taking responsibility for communication, for being a conduit of important information, and for doing so with integrity. It’s also about learning to be a good listener when others are the messengers. When our child comes to us with a confession, or our partner shares a worry, we need to be the safe harbor, the place where they can deliver their news without fear of judgment or immediate reprisal. This builds trust, the very bedrock of any strong family.

These insights aren't just about dramatic battles and ancient kings. They're about the everyday dynamics of relationships, the careful dance of communication, and the quiet courage it takes to be both a bearer of truth and a recipient of it.

Micro-Ritual

Let's bring some of this ancient wisdom into our homes with a simple, yet powerful, tweak to our Friday night or Havdalah. This ritual is about acknowledging the "dew" of life – those small, pervasive moments of connection and truth that often go unnoticed.

The "Dewdrop of Truth" Blessing

This ritual is inspired by Hushai's description of the enemy descending "as thick as dew falling on the ground." Dew is subtle, it’s everywhere, and it nourishes. We want to cultivate that same subtle, nourishing quality in our family communication.

When to do it:

• Friday Night (Shabbat Dinner): As you're gathered around the table, perhaps after the main meal, or as you're lighting the candles.
• Havdalah: As you're transitioning from Shabbat to the week ahead, over the spices or the wine.

How to do it:

1. Gather your family: Make sure everyone is present and can participate.
2. Hold a small, smooth stone or a pretty shell: This object will represent the "dewdrop of truth" – a small, precious piece of wisdom, understanding, or connection shared.
3. One person starts (or you can rotate): Hold the stone and say something like: "Tonight, as we gather, we acknowledge the subtle moments of truth and connection in our lives, like the dew that nourishes the earth. May we be blessed with the wisdom to recognize them, and the courage to share them."
4. Pass the stone: The person holding the stone then turns to another family member and says: "I want to share a 'dewdrop of truth' from my week/from our home. I noticed [share a small, positive observation, a moment of connection, a lesson learned, a kind act, or a simple truth you appreciated]. I share this with you because [explain why it was meaningful to you]." (Examples: "I noticed how you patiently helped your sibling with their homework, and I was so proud of your kindness." "I realized today that even when things are chaotic, we find comfort in being together. That’s a truth I cherish." "I learned that sometimes, asking for help is the strongest thing you can do." "I appreciated the quiet moment we shared this morning, just being together." )
5. The recipient receives the stone: They can acknowledge the shared dewdrop with a simple "Thank you for sharing that with me," or even reflect back a small observation about the person who shared. Then, they hold the stone and turn to another family member to share their own "dewdrop of truth."
6. Continue until everyone has had a chance: The goal is not to have long, drawn-out confessions, but rather to share small, genuine moments of appreciation, insight, or connection. It’s about noticing and valuing the subtle, life-giving aspects of your family life.
7. Concluding thought: Once everyone has shared, you can conclude by saying, "May these dewdrops of truth nourish our connection throughout the week."

Why this works:

• Musicality and Repetition: The act of passing the stone and the repetitive structure of sharing creates a gentle, almost musical rhythm, making it engaging and memorable.
• Experiential: Holding a physical object anchors the ritual and makes it tangible. The act of physically passing the stone is a gesture of connection.
• Focus on the Positive (Mostly): While you can share lessons learned from challenges, the emphasis is on noticing the good, the nurturing, the positive connections. This is like the dew that nourishes, not the storm that destroys.
• Simplicity: It requires no special materials beyond a stone or shell and no elaborate preparation. Anyone can do it, anywhere, anytime.
• Connects to the Text: It directly references Hushai’s imagery of overwhelming presence, but reinterprets it as the gentle, pervasive presence of love, truth, and connection within the family.

You can even add a little hum or a simple niggun as you pass the stone, a soft, melodic sound that underscores the peaceful, nurturing nature of this ritual. Imagine a gentle, flowing melody like the one used for "Shalom Aleichem."

This "Dewdrop of Truth" blessing is a way to actively cultivate gratitude, mindfulness, and deeper connection within your family. It’s about recognizing that even in the busyness of life, there are always small, precious moments of truth and beauty to be found, just like the dew that glistens in the early morning light.

Chevruta Mini

Grab a partner, or just ponder these questions yourself!

Question 1

Hushai's strategy to overwhelm Absalom with sheer numbers is described as descending "as thick as dew falling on the ground." In what ways can we intentionally bring a "dewdrop" of overwhelming love, patience, or support into a challenging situation within our families, rather than resorting to aggressive tactics?

Question 2

The messengers, Ahimaaz and the Cushite, each deliver news with different levels of directness and emotional impact. How can we learn from their approaches to deliver difficult news within our families, balancing honesty with compassion and considering the emotional well-being of the recipient?

Takeaway

Our journey through this intense chapter of David's story, from clever counsel to brave messengers, reminds us that even in the most tumultuous times, wisdom can be found. We've seen how Hushai’s seemingly indirect advice ultimately saved David, and how the messengers’ perilous journeys carried the weight of a kingdom.

The takeaway for us, as we bring this "campfire Torah" home, is that effective leadership, whether in a nation or a family, requires a blend of strategic thinking and deep human understanding. It’s about knowing when to act decisively and when to employ patience, when to be direct and when to be gentle. It's about valuing the truth, even when it's hard to deliver, and cultivating an environment where honest communication, delivered with love, can nourish our relationships like dew nourishes the earth.

So, let's go forth and be wise counselors, courageous messengers, and loving nurturers in our own homes, finding the sacred in the everyday. And remember that simple niggun, that feeling of shared purpose:

(Sing again, with feeling)

"Oh, the road is long, the road is long, Oh, the road is long, my friends. But with friends beside, and truth to guide, Oh, the road is long, my friends."

Shalom!