Joseph’s Destiny and Absalom’s Revolt: The Problem of Human and Divine Foreknowledge

The nadir of David’s reign was reached when he orchestrated the death of Uriah the Hittite to conceal his adultery with Bathsheba. Among the consequences prophesied by Nathan was the grim decree that “the sword shall never depart from your house” (2 Sam 12:10). Only a few chapters later, this prediction begins to materialize: David’s beloved son, Absalom, rises in revolt and violently seizes the throne (2 Sam 15:1-12), forcing David to flee Jerusalem in fear for his life (vv. 13ff).

For the discerning reader, this should raise a question. Has divine providence—God’s power to guide and direct human affairs—overridden free will? Has Absalom lost all his agency and become just a pawn on a much larger chessboard that the prophet Nathan has just described? The Bible’s answer to that question is a decisive “no.” And the way it makes its point is through the principle of double causality. That is, the notion that both God and human beings can be simultaneously responsible for the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

Most of us think of divine providence and human free will as antagonistic principles. Either God is in charge, riding roughshod over our wills to bring history to his appointed end. Or we are in charge while God stands on the sidelines, rueing the results of what we plan and carry out. In other words, it is a simple zero-sum arrangement. If we do 60% of the work then God must do the other 40%, and so forth. But as we will see shortly, this is a false dichotomy. God guides human history in such a way that our freely made choices become the very means by which he achieves his appointed ends. In a word, we do not have to choose between divine providence and free will; God brings about the former through the latter.

Joseph Story

The textbook example of this principle can be found in the Joseph story. Stretching from Genesis 37 through 50, this is one of the longest continuous narratives in the Bible. Strikingly, unlike the preceding stories in Genesis—where God frequently intervenes through dreams, visions, or angelic visitations—this tale possesses a surprisingly “secular” atmosphere. The human actors appear to be in full control of their actions, guiding the plot toward its conclusion without direct divine intervention.

Consider how the story begins:

This is the history of the family of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a lad with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives; and Joseph brought an ill report of them to their father. Now Israel loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he made him a long robe with sleeves. But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him (Gen 37:2-4).

Immediately, we are informed about significant family tensions. Joseph is presented as a tattletale (“bringing ill reports [about his brothers] to their father”), one of the most despised roles in human affairs—not only in the Bible but in modern life as well. While the Bible offers ample wisdom on how to correct the behavior of a friend or family member, Joseph bypasses these strategies and goes directly to his father to report on his brothers.[1] And what is worse, his father not only tolerates this behavior, but he also dotes on Joseph. He signals his preference by cloaking his son with a special garment (the famous “coat of many colors”).[2]

In the very next scene, the tension within the family reaches its breaking point when Joseph shares his dreams of grandeur:

Now Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers they only hated him the more. He said to them, “Hear this dream which I have dreamed: behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and lo, my sheaf arose and stood upright; and behold, your sheaves gathered round it, and bowed down to my sheaf.” His brothers said to him, “Are you indeed to reign over us? Or are you indeed to have dominion over us?” So they hated him yet more for his dreams and for his words. Then he dreamed another dream, and told it to his brothers, and said, “Behold, I have dreamed another dream; and behold, the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me.” But when he told it to his father and to his brothers, his father rebuked him, and said to him, “What is this dream that you have dreamed? Shall I and your mother and your brothers indeed come to bow ourselves to the ground before you?” And his brothers were jealous of him, but his father kept the saying in mind (Gen 37:5-11).

As readers, of course, we know that these dreams will come true. Joseph is going to rise to second-in-command when he is sent to Egypt. And during the world-wide famine that then takes place, his brothers will make the trip to Egypt and bow before him upon their arrival.[3] But just because the dreams that Joseph had were “destined” to become true does not mean he should have disclosed them to his family.

Contrast, for example, Joseph’s behavior with that of the young Samuel, who receives a harrowing vision regarding his mentor, Eli:

Then the Lord said to Samuel, “Behold, I am about to do a thing in Israel, at which the two ears of every one that hears it will tingle. On that day I will fulfil against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. And I tell him that I am about to punish his house for ever, for the iniquity which he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them (1 Sam 3:11-13).

At first, Samuel refuses to tell Eli what he has learned. Only when sorely pressed by Eli, does Samuel finally relent and disclose what he has learned.

Samuel lay until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. And Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” And he said, “Here I am.” And Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him (1 Sam 3:15-18).

The contrast to Joseph could not be stronger. Whereas the arrogant young lad is only too happy to disclose his dreams to his brothers in order to let them stew in their predicted humiliation, Samuel must be “strong-armed” by Eli into revealing what he has learned.

Provoked by Joseph’s inappropriate behavior, the brothers grow so angry that they decide to take matters into their own hands. They throw Joseph into a pit and seem content, at least for a while, to allow him to stay there until he dies. But when the Midianite traders appear they think better of that plan and sell Joseph into slavery in Egypt. There Joseph rises to a position of great prominence, a famine takes place, and Joseph’s family descends to Egypt to buy food. Eventually Joseph discloses his identity to his brothers and brings the whole family into Egypt to ride out the rest of the years of famine.

After Jacob’s father dies, however, the tensions that had been brewing at the beginning of the story return with a vengeance. The brothers have good reason to expect that Joseph’s long-held resentment will finally boil over:

When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “It may be that Joseph will hate us and pay us back for all the evil which we did to him.” So they sent a message to Joseph, saying, “Your father gave this command before he died, ‘Say to Joseph, Forgive, I pray you, the transgression of your brothers and their sin, because they did evil to you.’ And now, we pray you, forgive the transgression of the servants of the God of your father.” Joseph wept when they spoke to him. His brothers also came and fell down before him, and said, “Behold, we are your servants” (Gen 50:15-18).

One might have expected that Joseph would have savored this display of obeisance. Wasn’t this what one of his dreams had predicted? Yet Joseph resists the temptation for vengeance.

But Joseph said to them, “Fear not, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.” Thus he reassured them and comforted them (Gen 50:19-21).

Joseph’s declaration is an exquisite expression of the principle of double causality. He acknowledges that God brought his plan to fruition through the free, albeit sinful, choices of his brothers. The sale of Joseph into slavery was doubly caused: it was an act of divine providence to place Joseph in a position to save the world from an impending famine, yet it was simultaneously the result of genuine human anger and sibling rivalry.

Absalom’s Revolt

We find a similar example of double causality in the story of Absalom’s revolt in 2 Samuel. In the story of Nathan’s rebuke of David, we read that the penalty that God will impose entails that “the sword shall never depart from [his] house.” The immediate consequence of this decree is the revolt of Absalom. Yet, as the story unfolds, we learn that this revolt required no explicit prompting from God; every event that unfolds is the direct result of free choices made by David and his sons.

Let us take a closer look at how this tragedy unfolds. The story opens with the report that Amnon, David’s son, is in love with Absalom’s sister, Tamar (2 Sam 13:1). To secure her presence at his side, he feigns illness and asks that Tamar be sent to prepare food for him so that he can eat from her hand (v. 6). David, in all innocence, sends Tamar to Amnon’s house to prepare the meal (v. 7). When she does so, Amnon takes hold of her and demands that she lie with him (v. 11). Upon her refusal, Amnon forces her to lie with him (v. 14). In the wake of this brutal rape, Amnon develops a bitter hatred for Tamar and calls to his servant: “Put this woman out of my presence,” he demands, “and bolt the door after her” (v. 17) Tamar was devastated by this humiliation: “[She] put ashes on her head, and rent the long robe which she wore, and she laid her hand on her head, and went away, crying aloud as she went (v. 19).”

Predictably, Absalom—Tamar’s brother—grows very angry at Amnon. Astonishingly, however, David fails to discipline Amnon:

When King David heard of all these things, he was very angry, [but he did not rebuke his son Amnon, for he favored him, since he was his first-born].[4] But Absalom spoke to Amnon neither good nor bad; for Absalom hated Amnon, because he had forced his sister Tamar (2 Sam 13:21-22).

The discerning reader will note that David’s passivity mirrors that of Jacob in Genesis 37. Just as Jacob’s favoritism blinded him to the rage brewing among his sons, so David’s failure as a paterfamilias to render judgement on a favored child created a moral vacuum that Absalom is only too happy to fill. And just as Jacob unwittingly sent Joseph to his near-death at the hands of his brothers, so David sends Amnon to his death at a sheep-shearing festival:

After two full years Absalom had sheepshearers at Baal-hazor, which is near Ephraim, and Absalom invited all the king’s sons. And Absalom came to the king, and said, “Behold, your servant has sheepshearers; pray let the king and his servants go with your servant.” But the king said to Absalom, “No, my son, let us not all go, lest we be burdensome to you.” He pressed him, but he would not go but gave him his blessing. Then Absalom said, “If not, pray let my brother Amnon go with us.” And the king said to him, “Why should he go with you?” But Absalom pressed him until he let Amnon and all the king’s sons go with him (2 Sam 13: 23-27).

Upon Amnon’s arrival, Absalom strikes:

Then Absalom commanded his servants, “Mark when Amnon’s heart is merry with wine, and when I say to you, ‘Strike Amnon,’ then kill him. Fear not; have I not commanded you? Be courageous and be valiant.” So the servants of Absalom did to Amnon as Absalom had commanded (vv. 28-29).

Absalom’s extrajudicial murder of Amnon understandably provokes the ire of his father. Absalom becomes a marked man and must flee from his pending punishment.

But Absalom fled, and went to Talmai the son of Ammihud, king of Geshur. And David mourned for his son day after day. So Absalom fled, and went to Geshur, and was there three years (vv. 37-38).

Eventually, Absalom returns to his father’s household (ch. 14), but the reception is chilly (end of ch. 14). David’s lingering resentment fuels Absalom’s own bitterness. Before long, Absalom is actively plotting to overthrow his father and seize the throne (15:1-12).

Conclusion

As we have seen, we do not need Nathan’s dire prediction to understand the mechanics of Absalom’s revolt. As in the Joseph story, divine providence guides human history through the agency of free choices, not in spite of them.

However, we have learned something else. In our previous essay, we applauded David for his faith in God and the virtuous behavior he displayed after Nathan’s rebuke. But David, like us, remains an unfinished person, a man still burdened by human weaknesses. Even as David makes atonement for one set of sins, he inadvertently sets the stage for more. The process of forgiveness turns out to be a complex and multifaceted affair.

God, to be sure, intends to make us immaculate (see Ephesians 1:4)—free from sin—like the Blessed Virgin Mary. But for most of us, this transformation will not be complete until that final process of purgation after this life. If David, the model penitent, required ongoing correction, we should not despair when our own experience of the Sacrament of Reconciliation does not repair us instantly or permanently. Growth in grace is a lifelong journey.

EDITORIAL NOTE: This essay is adapted from the fifth installment of the McGrath Institute’s six-part Lenten Illuminating Scripture series, which you can watch in its entirety below.

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