“But when she took it to him to eat, he grabbed her and said, ‘Come to bed with me, my sister.’ ‘No, my brother!’ she said to him. ‘Don’t force me! Such a thing should not be done in Israel! Don’t do this wicked thing. What about me? Where could I get rid of my disgrace? And what about you? You would be like one of the wicked fools in Israel. Please speak to the king; he will not keep me from being married to you.’ But he refused to listen to her, and since he was stronger than she, he raped her. Then Amnon hated her with intense hatred.”—2 Samuel 13:11–15 (NIV)

In 10 years of writing devotionals and expositing the Word for you, my friends, this is the hardest one I’ve had to write. I read this section of Scripture through sobs, and I write this all to you through anguished tears. This isn’t false or virtue signaling or pretense in any way. I’ve been in my office weeping for about two hours praying through this passage and putting my thoughts together . . . So, here we go.

Amnon was the firstborn of King David—a prince of Israel and the logical successor to the throne of Israel. And yet, none of that mattered when he let lust take the throne of his heart. What he did to Tamar wasn’t just shameful, it was evil, violent, and inexcusable—and it demands that we speak plainly: Amnon raped his sister.

It wasn’t an accident or a misunderstanding. It wasn’t “boys will be boys”—when I hear those words used in context of anything related to the treatment of women or girls, in any way that’s meant to excuse sinful or inappropriate behavior, I have to compose myself and pray first because otherwise, I’ll go all scorched earth.

Tamar didn’t ask for it. She didn’t have it coming. She didn’t cause him to stumble. She didn’t do ANYTHING. Tamar is 100% innocent in this entire thing.
This was incest, rape, assault, and abuse. In every way possible, this was a complete violation of God’s law, God’s design, and the dignity of another human who is made in God’s image.

Deuteronomy 22:25–27 makes clear what the law prescribed for this exact scenario: Amnon deserved the death penalty. Even in cases where betrothal wasn’t a factor, the law (v. 28–29) still sought to protect the woman by binding the man to lifelong provision and responsibility. And Leviticus 18:9 flat out forbids sexual relations with a sister—even a half-sister. There was no loophole, no gray area, no justification. What Amnon did was evil . . . period. It was demonic; Satanic. 

I break every time I read Tamar’s words. She begged him. “Do not do this disgraceful thing.” She pleaded with him to consider what would happen to her. She knew she’d be the one left in shame. She also so powerfully and prophetically warned, “You would be like one of the wicked fools in Israel.” 

Understand that she’s not just throwing out an insult. In Hebrew culture, calling someone a “fool” (נָבָל – nabal) was a deeply serious accusation—it carried moral, spiritual, and social weight far beyond how we use the word today. Unlike today, a “fool” wasn’t just silly or immature . . . it was someone who defied God, dishonored people, and acted with no regard for righteousness or consequence. In other words, Amnon—David’s firstborn, the logical heir to the throne—would throw away his royal dignity, his spiritual integrity, and his public honor in one act of lust and violence. She wasn’t just appealing to his emotions at this point, she was begging him to consider the cost. In light of this, there’s no way the crown would’ve passed to him even if Absolom hadn’t killed him (that comes later).

And still, he forced her. What makes this story even more tragic is that Amnon wasn’t a monster in the shadows. He was a prince. He was the son of the man after God’s heart; the child of the warrior/poet/shepherd. And yet, he became a monster. And even worse, the passage goes on to say he hated Tamar even more than he had “loved” her before. That’s what sin and lust do: Sin consumes, devours, and discards; lust masquerades as love, but only has the power to destroy. 

And yet—Amnon isn’t the only one to blame. David bears responsibility, too.

Like Eli and Saul, David failed as a father. He indulged his children, possibly out of guilt for his absence, for his sin, or for the many wives and the mess that came with them. He modeled a fractured, indulgent sexual ethic that, over time, bore deadly fruit in his children. His silence here screams.

And let’s not forget: Tamar was David’s daughter—his little girl. And while Amnon violated her body, David’s inaction violated her worth. He was supposed to be her protector. He did nothing!

Parents—fathers especially—this is a warning to us. If we abdicate our role, if we grow passive or indulgent, if we model compromise, then we can’t be surprised when our children repeat or amplify those patterns or suffer the collateral damage and take the shrapnel of it. They need us to walk the walk. They need us to protect, correct, and be present.

Tamar was the only one in this ugly mess who acted with integrity. She saw clearly. She spoke truth. She resisted with everything she had. She begged. She reasoned. She pleaded. She showed more wisdom, strength, and righteousness than the men in her life who were meant to protect her. And yet she was the one who suffered.

As someone who’s experienced abuse myself, I want to say this: I see you. I grieve with you. I weep for you. What happened to Tamar happened to me, too—though in a different form. Many years of trauma, but the culmination came at age 11 at the hands of my abusive older relative. Coercion. Molestation. Assault. Rape. Whatever you feel comfortable calling it. And it shaped everything that came after—relationships, trust, identity, mental health. It changed everything for the rest of my life. And it came to a head at 20 with two suicide attempts. So, believe me when I say: I know how darkness can try to define you and swallow you whole.

But here’s what else I know: “My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to Your Word” (Psalm 119:28 NIV).

There is a Word that speaks louder than abuse. There is a Savior who draws near to the brokenhearted. God doesn’t just weep with you in the pain, He walks with you out of it.

Jesus didn’t abandon me in my trauma. He literally preserved my life. I promise you, if it wasn’t for Christ Jesus my Lord, I wouldn’t be breathing today. His Word held me when no one else could. His truth rebuilt what was shattered. And now, by His grace, I can say this: My pain didn’t get the final word—Jesus did!

And He can for you, too.

God doesn’t excuse the evil. He doesn’t sweep it under the rug. What Amnon did was demonic. What my abuser did was inexcusable. What David failed to do was tragic. But God redeems what was meant to destroy.

So, to the survivor: You’re not what happened to you. You’re not defiled. You’re not discarded. In Christ, you can experience true healing, freedom, dignity, and be given a voice that speaks light into darkness. 

And to the rest of us: Let’s never be silent like David. Let’s never be passive. Let’s name evil. Let’s protect the vulnerable. Let’s parent with courage. And let’s love with Christlike, sacrificial, steadfast love. Because Tamar’s story doesn’t have to be the last word. The empty tomb is.

Pause: Take a breath. This passage is heavy—and it should be. The weight of sin, the horror of abuse, the trauma left in its wake—these things are not light, and they should never be treated lightly.

If you’re someone who has been abused, molested, raped, or have suffered any kind of sexual violence, please hear me: What happened to you was evil, it wasn’t your fault, and it doesn’t define you. It was not “just sin”—it was sin against you. And God is not indifferent to it. He’s your Defender, your Healer, your Advocate.

You are not alone.
You are not to blame.
You are not forgotten.
You are not dirty.
And you are not beyond hope.

If you’ve experienced any of this type of trauma and would like prayer, guidance on how to live in light of what was done to you, assistance seeking counseling or therapy in your area, or help making a report, please reach out to me at [email protected].

If you’re still experiencing abuse or being harmed in any way, please please please reach out. You are not alone. We have people at our church who are trained to help you report it safely and who can walk with you through justice, healing, and recovery. We will believe you. We will help you.

If you’re struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, or have been carrying hopelessness, please don’t carry it alone any longer. I beg you, reach out now to the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988. It’s free. It’s confidential. It’s 24/7. And after you’ve made that call, if you’d like to reach out to me, please do. I mean it. I’m here. I’ve lived it. I know what it’s like to feel like the pain is too much. But I also know what it’s like to experience Jesus resurrect your story.

We’re in this with you. JESUS is in this with you! 

Practice: Let’s be people who refuse to stay silent. Speak up when you see warning signs. Intervene with courage. Don’t sweep it under the rug. If you do, you’re sinning as well!

Create safe environments where no Tamar is left unprotected and no Amnon goes unchecked. If you’re a parent, be present, intentional, and godly. If you’re a friend, ask hard questions and offer your presence. If you’re struggling with lust, confess it, get accountability, and get help before it devours you or someone else.

In the eternal landscape, the blood of Jesus covers every sin. So, if you’ve repented and given your life to Christ, you’re saved and your eternity is secure. But, friend . . . if you’ve harmed someone, own it. I beg you. Repent. Turn yourself in. There’s no healing without truth. There’s no grace without justice. God has forgiven you, but He’s used governments to create laws and consequences for crimes and sins. If you’re a Christ follower, you know it’s the right thing to do to accept the earthly consequences.

Pray: Father, I lift up the Tamar’s of the world—those who have been abused, raped, violated, and cast aside. You—the Father to the fatherless, the defender of the vulnerable—do what only You can do and surround them with Your love. Bring them out of hiding and into healing. Cover them in dignity, worth, and safety. Strengthen their weary souls with Your Word. Wrap them in Your promises and give them courage to reach out.

We cry out for justice. God, expose the Amnons. Stop them in their tracks. Bring justice swiftly and completely. Make what is hidden come to light. 

And for those who are in the grip of lust, temptation, or violent thinking—God, break them. Convict them. Confront them like You did Saul on the road to Damascus. Turn would-be destroyers into testimonies of Your mercy and transformation. Let the cycle end with them.

Jesus, redeem every broken piece, heal the shattered places, make beauty out of the ashes, restore hope, and let Your church be a refuge of justice, safety, truth, and healing. In Your healing, redeeming, and saving name, I pray. Amen.