Victory Turned into Mourning
2 Samuel 19:2
And the victory that day was turned into mourning to all the people…


The victory spoken of is a victory that was longed for, and yet when it came it was as intolerable as the sting of an adder. How is it that we are always wanting things, and often when we get them they are bitterness itself? David wanted to be rid of his enemies — he was in this case challenged to vindicate his own throne. This was no fight of his own forcing — he was obliged to meet the insubordination and the revolt of his own son. David, mighty king — you wanted to be rid of your enemies: they are dead: how now? "Yes," said he, "I wanted to be rid of my enemies, but not in that way." There it is again — it is always in some other way that we want our desire granted. You want to get clear of that son of yours? You don't. And you have said how much you would give if he were only out of the way. But all the while you made a great fatherly reservation when you said so, and a great motherly emphasis unexpressed was in your heart when you talked about his being out of the way. You meant somewhere — more comfortable, more useful, more happy. You did not mean out of the way in any tragic sense. O strange man — wild, tumultuous life. We want, and we don't want; we pray, and we don't want the answer, at least, not so — but thus, a crooked answer to a straight request. We are all trying for victory. See if that be not true. Every man, even the poorest, is aiming at some kind of victory in life. Think if this be not so, father, mother, child, man of business, man of letters, boy challenging schoolmate to a marble encounter — through and through life, every section of it, we are trying in some way to get the promised end. But we are taught here that there are occasions upon which the victory is not worth winning. Is that not so in most cases? What do men want? One says: Riches. He heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather them — is the victory worth the winning? Another says: Well, I want to conquer that human heart, and make it mine — man's heart, woman's heart — saith the young. Is it worth doing? It may be, it may not be. I want that apple on the bough above — not that one, but the one higher. Is it worth fetching a ladder for? Try: you get it, but the worm had it first, and you spurn it with keen disappointment from your hand. It is well, therefore, for men, before they go out to battle, to answer the question — if I win, is it worth doing? — because there are victories that are defeats, there are triumphs that are stings, there are achievements that have nothing in them but graves and horrors and mockeries. Shall we say, without any desire to be too gloomy, that there is nothing upon earth out of God, out of Christ, that is worth doing, worth having? Are there any victories that cannot be turned into mourning? Blessed be God, there are victories that are followed by no compunction, no humiliation — blessings that have no sorrow in them. What is your complaint before God? What is the disease that is poisoning your blood, and burning in your marrow, and consuming your soul — your own peculiar diseases? Jealousy? Conquer it by the Spirit of God, pray about it, shut thyself up long months and have it out with heaven. It will be a victory for ever, unimpaired, complete, full of joyous self-content. What is thy disease, thou who dost say that jealousy is no element in thy constitution — what is thy plague? Self-indulgence, self-gratification, self-delight — self, self, self, morning, noon, and night. I alone, I am the world, think of me, comfort me, let me have my way, satisfy my want — is the key of thy life so struck, Conquer thyself. "If any man would be my disciple," saith Christ, "let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, not periodically, not with occasional heroism, but with steady, constant self-crucifixion, and let him follow Me." You have gone out to the battle. Hast thou won that battle? There is no other battle to be won; fight yourself — beat your-self — set the standard of a new being upon the fortresses and citadels of your own obstinacy, and then you may beat your sword into a ploughshare, and make a pruning-hook of your spear, for in your case there is no more war to be done. How is all this to be accomplished? The answer is as complete as the question is earnest and emphatic. "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith." We sometimes celebrate a mourning that shall be turned into victory, even the mourning of Christ the crucified Man, who said, "My soul is troubled, even unto death. Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" These are the words of mourning. "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth — Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations." These are the words of victory. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." "Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted." Unless we have known the bitterness of this mourning we never can know the joy of true victory.

(J. Parker, D. D.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: And the victory that day was turned into mourning unto all the people: for the people heard say that day how the king was grieved for his son.

WEB: The victory that day was turned into mourning to all the people; for the people heard it said that day, "The king grieves for his son."




Mourning in a Revival
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