ḥeseḏ: Uncontained Kindness
And the king said, “Is there not still someone of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God to him?” Ziba said to the king, “There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in his feet.” (2 Samuel 9:3)
King David was devastated.
His heart was shattered inside him.
He “mourned and wept and fasted until evening for Saul and for Jonathan” (1 Samuel 1:12), crying out with rumbling laments before God and man.
“O how the mighty have fallen!” (2 Samuel 1:25), he shrieked.
David honored the anointing of Saul, and he adored Jonathan’s kinship. To both, he rendered his loyal love - his ḥeseḏ.
Heseḏ is a word far too thick with meaning to be distilled down to a single English transliteration.
It is an uncontainable zeal towards another, filled with lovingkindness. It is tenderhearted, overflowing with compassion - particularly for the lowly. In moments of pause, it can’t help but seek out ways to extend mercy. It is devoted, faithful, and covenantal. It preserves life when death looms near, and quickens redemption to animate the soul.
And ḥeseḏ is always intensely relational.
It is not a “form”; it extends far beyond “doing a good turn daily.” It is welling up of the soul that ceaselessly beholds the Father’s DNA in all of creation, restless with the yearning to pour oneself out for the sake of another.
It is not felt from a distance, but rather enters into the muck of another and draws them close. It requires no collateral and keeps no record of credits and debts.
As it was, the crippled son - Mephibosheth - had been brought before the king, “And David said to him, ‘Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always’.” (2 Samuel 9:7)
Our stories too consist of deep wounds - some by our own doing, some based purely on things that have happened to us. At one point or another though, we have found ourselves despairing before the insurmountable, longing to be restored.
And just as David scoured the fringes of his kingdom, searching for an offspring of the one who he loved, we too have a king - King Yeshua - who stepped down from his thrown, upholding divine covenant with gladness. He too sees the inherent value transferred to us and infused within us by our Father.
Not by any act or effort, but by the name we inherit, we have been given a seat at the table.
Because of who our Father is, we have a place of belonging.
This is the Kingdom of God. It is a home in which Adonai welcomes us - a refuge for the outcast and a comfort for the brokenhearted. It is the absolute dominion of Elohim, established in a governance of perfect justice and mercy.
May we behold it like a city on a hill, “enter[ing] its gates with thanksgiving and its courts with praise” (Psalm 100:4).
Like Mephibosheth, may you also allow yourself to receive the unearned grace that the King lavishes upon you, knowing that you are intrinsically filled with immeasurable worth to Him.
And like David, may you see this same divine beauty in your neighbor, preparing a place for them in your heart and your home, to experience the good-pleasure of a God who loves them.
