Pierced on a Tree

“The king commanded Joab, Abishai and Ittai, ‘Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake.’ And all the troops heard the king giving orders concerning Absalom to each of the commanders. Now Absalom happened to meet David’s men. He was riding his mule, and as the mule went under the thick branches of a large oak, Absalom’s hair got caught in the tree. He was left hanging in midair, while the mule he was riding kept on going. When one of the men saw what had happened, he told Joab, ‘I just saw Absalom hanging in an oak tree.’ Joab said to the man who had told him this, ‘What! You saw him? Why didn’t you strike him to the ground right there? Then I would have had to give you ten shekels of silver and a warrior’s belt.’ But the man replied, ‘Even if a thousand shekels were weighed out into my hands, I would not lay a hand on the king’s son. In our hearing the king commanded you and Abishai and Ittai, “Protect the young man Absalom for my sake.” And if I had put my life in jeopardy—and nothing is hidden from the king—you would have kept your distance from me.’ Joab said, ‘I’m not going to wait like this for you.’ So he took three javelins in his hand and plunged them into Absalom’s heart while Absalom was still alive in the oak tree. And ten of Joab’s armor-bearers surrounded Absalom, struck him and killed him.”—2 Samuel 18:5–15 (NIV)

David wanted mercy. 

Joab wanted justice. 

Absalom got neither.

The battle was over before it even began. Absalom’s father was David, a man after God’s heart. But it doesn’t seem like he was a father who taught or exemplified God’s heart to his children. He failed Absalom, Tamar, Amnon, and his wives (by even having more than one wife he failed). He didn’t raise Absalom to be a man after God’s heart, and so the young man became lost, full of pride, drunk with power, and adored—not for his inner beauty, but for his outer beauty. 

Sadly, Absalom ended up helpless and dangling from a tree by the very symbol of his glory: his hair. It’s tragically poetic. Something that made him admired became the very thing that exposed him. He was suspended between heaven and earth, caught by branches, waiting for a fate he brought on himself.

And Joab? He doesn’t hesitate or consult the other commanders. He doesn’t remind himself of the mercy he once fought for. He just throws the spears. But here’s what we can’t forget: Joab was the one who brought Absalom back.

Back in 2 Samuel 14, Joab saw David’s heart longing for reconciliation. So, he crafted a plan. He used wisdom to bring Absalom out of exile and into Jerusalem. He played the peacemaker and gave Absalom a second chance. But by the time we reach this tree, though, Joab is done. He’s over the drama, the politics, and the wasted grace. And so, he does what David won’t and finishes the story. 

Brutally. 

Coldly. 

Finally.

And it leaves us wondering: Was Joab right or wrong? Justice needed to happen. The rebellion had to end. But was there a better way? What if Absalom had been captured instead of killed? What if David had finally looked him in the eye—not as a king to a traitor, but as a father to a son? What if David had admitted he had failed him and his sister? What if they had wept together? Repented together? Offered sacrifice together? What if there had been restoration? 

We’ll never know. Because Joab cut off the story before grace could write a new chapter. And that’s what makes this so hard. Because deep down, we don’t just want justice—we want mercy. We want redemption. We want the son to come home, the father to forgive, and the wounds to be healed.

But there’s another Son . . . and another tree. Galatians 3:13 (NIV) says, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.'” 

Absalom was the rebellious son who died hanging from a tree because of his sin. Jesus is the obedient Son who died hanging on a tree for our sins.

Absalom was pierced through the heart by three javelins. Jesus was pierced through His hands and feet by three nails for our transgressions (Isaiah 53:5). 

Absalom’s death left David broken. Jesus’ death made a way for the broken to be healed. David gave the order to be gentle with Absalom, but Joab ignored it. Our Father in heaven also gave an order to His own Son who accepted it by saying, “I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (John 5:30 ESV).  

What was the order? “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21 NIV). “And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8 NIV).

Absalom got caught in a tree because of his pride. Jesus was nailed to a tree because of His love. The difference is everything. Jesus didn’t throw the spear—we did. But He took it willingly in His side (John 19:34). And because He did, we don’t have to hang from the tree. We don’t have to be rebels or enemies. We don’t have to stay estranged. We don’t have to die in our guilt. We can be brought back, welcomed home, and restored—completely and forever.

Even in this, a story full of loss, we see how Jesus rewrites the ending.

Pause: Is there someone in your life who’s hurt you deeply—someone you long to reconcile with, but the story feels like it’s already over? Or maybe you’re the one hanging between pride and repentance, unsure how to get down. What’s keeping you from coming home?

Practice: Ask yourself honestly: Have I stopped believing reconciliation is possible—between me and God, or between me and someone else? What would it look like to bring that story to Jesus today and ask Him to finish it with grace?

Pray: Jesus, thank You for going to the tree for me—for being pierced in my place; for taking the judgment I deserve and giving me mercy I never earned. Help me not to be like Joab—quick to end what You want to redeem. Help me not to be like Absalom—trapped in my pride. Help me not to be like David—unable to face my wrongs face-to-face and own up to them. Make me more like You—willing to love, willing to forgive, and willing to surrender everything to bring rebels home. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.