Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, the son of Saul . . . lame in both feet . . . was lost to the world at Lo-debar. Allow me to tell his story. It may be that some of us will find our stories mirrored within his own.
The story begins in the days when Saul was king of Israel. His eldest son, Jonathan, was his most faithful and trustworthy confidant. When David came onto the scene, joining the forces of Saul in their struggle against the Philistines, the two young men became fast friends. They swore an oath of eternal loyalty to one another. The way the scripture puts it is, "Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul." [I Samuel 18: 3] Later, when Jonathan died with his father on the battlefield, fighting the foes of their country, David was overwhelmed with grief. "Your love to me was wonderful," he cried, "passing the love of women." II Samuel 1: 26 So the two were bonded together almost as one; their names linked in friendship down through time.

Now Jonathan had a son; his name at birth, Mephibosheth, meant "he who strives for the Lord." He was just five years old when his father and grandfather died, and his life was immediately placed in great jeopardy. A struggle for power erupted between David and Saul's remaining sons, you see. Fearing that there would be those who would seek to take the child's life, we read in chapter 4, verse 4 - "his nurse took him up, and fled; and as she fled in her haste, (the child) fell, and became lame." [II Samuel 4: 4] Undeterred, she took him to the house of Machir, the son Ammiel, at Lo-debar. There he lived, in secret, for many years. And his name, Mephibosheth . . . the name which at birth had meant "he who strives for the Lord" . . . his name became synonymous for something else: they translated it "he who spreads shame."

So here is Mephibosheth lost at Lo-debar. Born to royalty. Named as one "who will strive for the Lord." Destined to live in luxury and to rule in his father's place. Now, through no fault of his own, he languishes in an obscure exile, hidden away at Lo-debar . . . a place whose name literally means "a thing of nought."

Now let's pause here. We'll come back and finish the story in a moment, but first let's ask the question - Does Mephibosheth remind you of anyone you know? Not a king, surely, nor a prince; those days are gone and good riddance to them. But for all of that, is there a bit of his story in yours? Have you ever been to Lo-debar, the place "of nought" ? Have you ever felt you were nowhere? Stuck? Cast off? Washed up on the shore of some forgotten backwater?

Lo-debar: the place of nought. The place where you feel unwanted, unknown, adrift, abandoned. And even though he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it . . . he was only five-years old when he landed there . . . Mephibosheth's name was transformed into "he who spreads shame."

Secure in the palace at last, David is overcome with remorse. "Is there still any one left of the house of Saul," he asks, "that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" So many years have past; so much water over the dam; yet still he mourns for his friend. And so they bring to him Ziba, one of the few survivors of Saul's royal court.

And the king said, "Is there not still some one 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." The king said to him, "Where is he?" And Ziba said to the king, "He is in the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar." Then King David sent and brought him from the house of Machir the son of Ammiel, at Lo-debar . . . 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." II Samuel 9: 1-5, 7
Can you feel it? Can you imagine . . . can you picture with your mind's eye . . . the incredulity and the delight of Mephibosheth? He has just won the lottery, and he never even bought a ticket! He can't believe it. "What is your servant," he asks, "that you should look upon a dead dog such as I?" II Samuel 9: 8

Now the story invites our questions. We've already asked about Mephibosheth. We've marveled at his name. Some of us recognize it as our own. Some of us started out as he did, "striving" to achieve great things. Some of us secretly know that we have not only failed to hit that high mark, but that our own weaknesses have caused us to taste the bitterness of shame. And Lo-debar, the place of nought - how many of us own property there? The kids grow up and leave home, and for a while a lot of us feel lost. The task we've devoted ourselves to for 18 or 20 or 30 years is done. Now what? You're lost at Lo-debar, that's what. Is retirement the same way? That's what some say.

Finally, think of David in this same way. He's done some things he now regrets. If you remember his full story, you know he'll do more. That's just the way David is - so human, so fallible, so real. So now he says, "Is there not still some one of the house of Saul, that I may show the kindness of God to him?" His choice of words is interesting. He doesn't say, "that I may show my kindness to him." He says, "the kindness of God." He of all people knows about that. His whole life is a testament to the kindness of God. He doesn't think for a minute that he has gotten where he is by virtue of his own strength or will or cunning, though he used plenty of all three to get there. But no, David knows as surely as you and I know that all that we have and all that we are are gifts on loan to us from God. And he wants now to give back, to pay back.

So once upon a time, the story says . . . and yes, it was a long, long time ago . . . there was a man named Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, the son of Saul . . . he was lost to the world at Lo-debar. And one day, from out of nowhere, comes a messenger who says to him - Mephibosheth, come, the King is calling you; he will give you everything you've ever dreamed of.

My friends I tell you, it's a true story in more than historical fact. For we, each of us, are the children of royalty. We are the daughters and sons of God. And though for a little while we may find ourselves adrift in Lo-debar, we've been invited to eat at the Sovereign's table and to live at peace in the Sovereign's home. Amen.