A Tale of Three Kings: A Study of Brokenness

“I must tell you that what has been given to you is a glorious thing—the only element in the universe that can change the human heart. Yet even this element of God cannot accomplish its task nor grow and fill your entire being unless it is compounded well. It must be mixed lavishly with pain, sorrow, and crushing.”

This is a description of the second portion of God’s being, which is given out to the two unborn destinies in heaven (correlating to Saul and David). This portion is the one given to David and has the potential to transform one’s inner character. This only happens, however, when the person undergoes significant suffering in their lives, thus underscoring the book’s thematic focus on Brokenness as a Godly Virtue.

“Either way, Saul felt threatened by David, as kings often do when there is a popular, promising young man beneath them. The king also knew, as did David, that this boy just might have his job some day.”

The questions of authority and submission dealt with in the book address the relationships between leaders and subordinates (or pastors and laypeople), which ties in with the book’s theme on Leadership and the Call of God. One of the repeated dynamics in those relationships is the tension that arises between an established leader and a promising young potential leader. A good leader (after the mold of David) would not be worried about the threat of a rising new leader, since they do not regard their authority as something to be clung on to but as something given or taken at God’s discretion. A poor leader, however (like Saul), will try to resist the rise of a new figure.

“He seemed to understand something that few of even the wisest men of his day understood. Something that in our day, when men are wiser still, even fewer understand. And what was that? God did not have—but wanted very much to have—men and women who would live in pain. God wanted a broken vessel.”

Here we see the importance of the theme of Brokenness as a Godly Virtue. The reference to a person as a “broken vessel” is likely an allusion to a biblical passage, 2 Corinthians 4:7-8, in which the godly person is described as being a “jar of clay” that is crushed but not destroyed and through whom God displays his grace and favor. The experience of walking through suffering in submission to God’s will “breaks” a person’s pride and self-reliance, teaching them to lean on God for strength and guidance.

“God has a university. It’s a small school. Few enroll; even fewer graduate. Very, very few indeed. God has this school because he does not have broken men and women. Instead, he has several other types of people. He has people who claim to have God’s authority…and don’t—people who claim to be broken…and aren’t. And people who do have God’s authority, but who are mad and unbroken. And he has, regretfully, a great mixture of everything in between. All of these he has in abundance, but broken men and women, hardly at all.”

This quote, like the one above, continues to emphasize the theme of brokenness. Here readers also see the many layers of distinctions between God’s calling and the inner character required of a good leader. The narrator points out that even some people—perhaps many—who do not have the godly virtue of brokenness nonetheless retain authority as people called by God and gifted for ministry. Such people’s ministry, however, will likely not result in blessing for their spiritual communities, because it is only through a leader’s brokenness that the blessings of submitting to God develop and bear fruit.

“Unlike anyone else in spear-throwing history, David did not know what to do when a spear was thrown at him. He did not throw Saul’s spears back at him. Nor did he make any spears of his own and throw them. Something was different about David. All he did was dodge the spears.”

The symbol of the spear—always connected to the act of throwing in A Tale of Three Kings—appears here for one of the first times, as part of a depiction of the biblical story of Saul trying to kill David while the latter lived at the royal court. Here emphasis is placed on David’s inner character, which is singled out as unique. He resists the temptation to engage in personal attacks, even when attacked himself, which is held up as a model of leadership worthy of emulation.

“One, never learn anything about the fashionable, easily mastered art of spear throwing. Two, stay out of the company of all spear throwers. And three, keep your mouth tightly closed. In this way, spears will never touch you, even when they pierce your heart.”

These are the three rules, derived from David’s experience, that the narrator relates about how to survive in the middle of a spear-throwing battle, especially when one has resolved, like David, not to throw spears at all. Here the symbol of spear-throwing carries its allegorical meaning, referring to the context of interpersonal conflicts in churches. The narrator recommends never even getting into the habit of attacking or criticizing another person but to keep a stoic and non-retaliatory stance. The prediction that follows promises that personal attacks, even if they do damage to oneself in one way or another, will never be able to strike the part of one’s soul that one has devoted to seeking the will of God.

“‘My king is mad. At least, I so perceive him. What can I do?’ First, recognize this immutable fact: You cannot tell (none of us can) who is the Lord’s anointed and who is not.”

Here readers see one of the unique stylistic features of A Tale of Three Kings: a dialogue between the reader-character and the narrator, with the reader’s remarks given in quotes and the narrator responding. The terminology of “mad” as used here does not refer to any kind of disability or mental illness but rather to a nature that has become power-hungry, obsessive, and jealous in defense of its own authority. This quote also emphasizes the themes of the call of God and the difficulty of knowing God’s will, underscoring the book’s repeated emphasis that one cannot accurately or safely assess the state of another person’s calling from God.

“David the sheepherder would have grown up to become King Saul II, except that God cut away the Saul inside David’s heart. That operation, by the way, took years and was a brutalizing experience that almost killed the patient. And what were the scalpel and tongs God used to remove the inner Saul? God used the outer Saul. King Saul sought to destroy David, but his only success was that he became the instrument of God to put to death the Saul who roamed about in the caverns of David’s own soul.”

In this quote, the narrator comments on the emerging dynamics of the story of David and Saul. Against the temptation to single out Saul and claim that his behavior invalidates his calling and anointing, the narrator insists that Saul is still serving a purpose in God’s plan. In David’s heart, as in the hearts of all people, is a natural tendency to serve one’s own interests first and to trust in one’s own will. God uses Saul to put David in situations that will refine the character of the latter, bringing him to a place of brokenness.

“How strange, is it not, what suffering begets? There in those caves, drowned in the sorrow of his song and in the song of his sorrow, David became the greatest hymn writer and the greatest comforter of broken hearts this world shall ever know.”

Here the narrator expands his vision of the benefits of David’s suffering. Those benefits include the growth of the virtues of brokenness in David’s life—humility, patience, and a reliance on God—but also manifest as blessings for later generations, through David’s authorship of the biblical psalms. While A Tale of Three Kings does not draw directly from the biblical Book of Psalms, many of which are ascribed to David, it does mention the psalms in passing, noting in particular the emotional resonances of David’s experience with the brokenness of many other people who would read and sing those psalms.

“Better he kill me than I learn his ways. Better he kill me than I become as he is. I shall not practice the ways that cause kings to go mad. I will not throw spears, nor will I allow hatred to grow in my heart.”

This speaks to David’s willingness to cultivate Brokenness as a Godly Virtue, as he refuses to copy Saul’s actions and fight against his tormentor. He explains that he will remove himself from Saul’s behavior, not wanting to learn anything of his ways or become like him. The book suggests church leaders should not participate in insult hurling but should simply allow God’s plan to play out.

“Saul was given authority that is God’s alone. He was God’s anointed, and God treated him that way. He was also eaten with jealousy, filled with self-importance, and willing to live in spiritual darkness. […] Many pray for the power of God. More every year. Those prayers sound powerful, sincere, godly, and without ulterior motive. Hidden under such prayer and fervor, however, are ambition, a craving for fame, the desire to be considered a spiritual giant. The person who prays such a prayer may not even know it, but dark motives and desires are in his heart…in your heart.”

This quote offers a clear example of the novel’s allegorical application. It moves from the disjunction between Saul’s calling and his character and uses that disjunction to highlight a similar pattern in modern Christian churches. The narrator suggests that many who pray for (and even receive) an anointing and gifting for ministry are doing so out of less than pure motives, which demonstrates a lack of a David-like inner character. More pointedly, the narrator says that the pattern even applies to the reader, which shows the direct and personal nature of the allegorical application.

“He gives unworthy people his power? […] Why does God do such a thing? The answer is both simple and shocking. He sometimes gives unworthy vessels a greater portion of power so that others will eventually see the true state of internal nakedness within that individual.”

Continuing the sequence of ideas from the previous quote, this extract offers a theological reason for why God would permit his anointing to be given to people of poor character. This ties in with the book’s thematic focus on Leadership and the Call of God, with the narrator repeatedly stressing the point that a leader’s calling and character are two separate matters, and a deficiency in the latter does not mean the former had no value. One of the possible values in such a calling is that of a moral warning in which the costs of poor character are gradually displayed before the eyes of the whole church community, thus hopefully underscoring the necessity of building the virtues of good character in their own lives.

“What does this world need: gifted men and women, outwardly empowered? Or individuals who are broken, inwardly transformed?”

The narrator brings this section of his argument down to a bottom-line question here, with the implication that what the world needs is not simply gifted men and women but leaders who are “broken.” This is an encouragement to the reader to look beyond the merely outward gifts of charisma and speaking ability that most Christians notice first in a new pastor. Rather, they should look to see if even more valuable qualities are present, such as the humility that testifies to a soul that has been broken and refined through suffering, now able to live in full and open submission to the will of God.

“What, then, can you do? Very little. Perhaps nothing. However, the passing of time (and the behavior of your leader while that time passes) reveals a great deal about your leader. And the passing of time, and the way you react to that leader—be he David or Saul—reveals a great deal about you.”

The theme of The Difficulty of Knowing the Will of God is again emphasized here. One cannot usually make a determination about someone else’s call, and if in rare instances one can, then it usually takes some time. The narrator encourages the reader to have patience, like David during his years in exile. By taking no action but merely observing, one might eventually learn the answers to one’s questions, and the experience of walking with patience through difficult circumstances will provide even more valuable answers that reflect not on the leader’s character but on one’s own.

“Authority from God is not afraid of challengers, makes no defense, and cares not one whit if it must be dethroned.”

In the book’s treatment of the theme of leadership, this principle emerges as one of the highest: that authority is God’s to give or take away, so a leader in a position of authority must not treat their position as a personal possession. This quote, although it comes from Part 1 (from a chapter that looks back on David’s era from a point in the future), is intended to set up the exploration of leadership in Part 2, where David makes no defense of his throne in the face of Absalom’s revolt.

“But I remind you: This particular kingdom is different from all others. This kingdom is composed of God’s people. It is a spiritual kingdom. I tell you emphatically, no rebellion in the kingdom of God is proper, nor can it ever be fully blessed.”

These words are spoken by the unnamed sage of Chapter 21 (who identifies himself only as “History”). In much of the novel, any sense of certainty over what the right course of action is toward a leader is made blurry by the difficulty of knowing God’s will, but this case counts as an exception. The sage believes that no action undertaken against a proper authority in a spiritual community can be valid, which would presumably even apply to David, had he attempted to rise against Saul. The black-and-white nature of this claim, however, when applied to contemporary church life, comes across as problematic, in that there are many ethical concerns that might merit the removal of a pastor or ministry leader.

“I find it curious that those who feel qualified to split God’s kingdom do not feel capable of going somewhere else—to another land—to raise up a completely new kingdom. No, they must steal from another leader. I have never seen the exception.”

This is another reflection from the sage, which refers to the historical circumstances of Absalom’s revolt while also clearly pointing in an allegorical direction. The implication is that conflicts of leadership that emerge within churches usually do not resolve with one leader going off alone to plant a new church but rather with the existing church splitting into two separate factions. From the viewpoint of the novel, any action by a leader to instigate such a split is always a red flag about that leader’s fitness for leadership, even if the circumstances in the church that led to the rupture were issues of legitimate concern.

“The kingdom hangs in the balance. It seems I have two choices: to lose everything or to be a Saul. I can stop Absalom. I need only to be a Saul. In my old age, shall I now become a Saul?”

These words are spoken by David in his conversation with Abishai, one of his military leaders and a “mighty man” who would remember the old days of their flight from Saul’s pursuit. David recognizes that the roles are now reversed, and he is the established king who is threatened by a young leader’s rise. David sees the rise of Absalom through that lens, which means that to stop Absalom, he would have to act as Saul had acted (even though Abishai points out that the role reversal is not an exact match, because Absalom is not acting as the young David had acted).

“Any young rebel who raises his hand against a Saul, or any old king who raises his hand against an Absalom, may—in truth—be raising his hand against the will of God.”

This is another quote from David’s conversation with Abishai, part of a longer monologue before the scene ends. This quote underscores the theme of The Difficulty of Knowing the Will of God, as David sees it as a real possibility that Absalom’s rise might be an instance of God’s plan at work. Unlike the earlier sage, David does not see Absalom’s rebellion as an automatic sign that God’s favor is not with the young prince. This tension between the two characters’ perspectives is rooted in a practical consistency for each one in their own situation: The novel would advise non-action for a leader in David’s position, so as not to obstruct the will of God, and also non-action for a potential leader in Absalom’s position, so as not to rebel against God’s established authorities. In both cases, the novel presses its readers to consider a passive reliance on the will of God rather than putting trust in one’s own actions.

“I seek his will, not his power. I repeat, I desire his will more than I desire a position of leadership.”

David brings his resolution down to this central expression of his motivating principles: He seeks only to do God’s will, whatever that is. In the novel, this open-handed way of dealing with positions of leadership is seen as the greatest sign of true leadership: not to be motivated by the position or its authority but to regard those things as of no concern in comparison to whatever the will of God might be. This motivating principle is the fruit of David’s virtue of brokenness, as his own pride and ambition have been broken, leaving room for a heart that always looks first to God’s authority rather than his own.

“There is no real difference between the man who discovers a Saul in his life and the man who finds an Absalom in his life. In either situation, the corrupt heart will find its ‘justification.’ The Sauls of this world can never see a David; they see only Absalom. The Absaloms of this world can never see a David; they see only Saul.”

These lines are spoken by the prophet Nathan in his conversation with Zadok, the high priest. He notes that one’s perspective is very often tainted by what one expects to find: Sauls expect to find ambition and treachery, so they project those expectations on the person they suspect of wanting to displace them; and Absaloms expect to find a leader who is set on holding on to power for his own love of authority and so projects that expectation on the person who holds the throne. In both cases, however, they are wrong—David does not hold the perspectives they expect him to hold. This underscores the theme of The Difficulty of Knowing the Will of God. All our conjectures about the character of other people are clouded by our own expectations, so our best guesses about God’s will for who should be in a position of authority are likely to be off the mark.

“God’s true government rests upon a man—no, upon the contrite heart of a man. There is no form or order to God’s government; there is only a man or woman with a contrite heart.”

Here Zadok adds his own commentary on the story of Korah’s rebellion from Israel’s early history, which David has asked him to recount. The man in question is Moses, but Zadok also intends David to see himself in these comments, which emphasize the importance of character and particularly a contrite heart (a value associated with brokenness) in the exercise of spiritual leadership. This quote also shows the anti-institutional nature of Edwards’s views on church governance, preferring the “house church” model with undefined leadership roles instead of the traditional pastoral offices and hierarchy structures in many other Christian denominations.

“Nonetheless, a good thing will come from it all. […] As surely as the sun rises, people’s hearts will be tested. Despite the many claims—and counterclaims—the hidden motives within the hearts of all who are involved will be revealed. This might not seem important in the eyes of men, but in the eyes of God such things are central.”

This quote is a further part of Zadok’s reflection on the story of Korah’s attempted rebellion from Moses’s authority. Here, as in many places throughout the novel, unexpected value is expected to arise from amid the messiness and pain of conflicts in spiritual communities. While most people focus on the negative consequences of suffering and emotional pain, Zadok points out that conflict can also fit into God’s plan by revealing the inner character of all those involved. This is part of the process of gaining the virtue of brokenness, which begins by having to face one’s own poor character.