Absalom: The Overlooked Pattern

We are quick in the Church to identify what we believe is a Jezebel spirit—but far slower to recognize when someone is operating in the pattern of Absalom.

And that should concern us.

Absalom, a lesser-referred-to figure in Scripture, is nonetheless an extremely important one.

Absalom was self-promoting. He manipulated circumstances surrounding the rape of his sister Tamar by Amnon, and when justice did not come as he believed it should, he eventually took matters into his own hands. Rather than submitting to process or healing, he allowed offense to fester—and when consequences followed, he ran.

What is often overlooked is what happened next.

At some point, Absalom positioned himself outside the gate of his father, King David’s kingdom. That was intentional. The gate was where people gathered, where frustrations were voiced, where grievances surfaced. Absalom listened. He affirmed. He appealed to people’s sense of injustice. And slowly, subtly, he undermined his father, King David’s authority.

Scripture does not soften the language: he stole the hearts of the people.

This wasn’t a moment. It was a process.

Over time, Absalom used his influence and position—even former position—to draw people away, building his own following and eventually an army, with the intent of making himself king. All while still presenting himself as a son.

Absalom is a figure often overlooked by most of us.

We are far more mindful of Jezebel, Leviathan, and Python, almost in that order. We are quick to label manipulation when it is overt, but much slower to recognize subversion when it comes quietly, relationally, and wrapped in woundedness. When we miss this, we are often tempted to address symptoms without ever touching the wounds underneath.

I’ve seen this pattern in both the Church and the world.

I’ve lived it from more than one side.

I’ve been the one who left a workplace hurt by a leader’s actions, quick to rehearse the story and justify my departure, unaware of how easily pain can turn into something harder. I’ve also been close to someone in ministry who appeared loyal and supportive while quietly positioning himself—waiting for leadership to falter before stepping forward as the natural successor.

And I’ve been the leader who watched someone leave in offense, only to receive reports later of how their influence was being used to shape perceptions, plant seeds, and gather a following—just as Absalom did.

The truth is, I’m not entirely sure why, but the Lord recently awakened me to the realization that these behaviors mirror the pattern of Absalom—a figure who sits lower on our spiritual radar, yet one who is critically important. Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it. Not only in the Church, but in corporations, in government, and in politics as well.

Absalom doesn’t appear in only one form. He shows up wherever offense is left unchecked and influence is exercised without humility.

It’s happening today. It’s happening around us.

Offense left unaddressed has a way of disguising itself as discernment, and accountability can begin to feel like rejection when the heart is already wounded. Absalom’s story reminds us that the issue is rarely influence itself, but how it is stewarded when correction comes, when expectations go unmet, or when trust is tested. And yet, the invitation remains: to stay accountable even while hurting, to bring offense into the light before it takes root, and to choose humility over isolation—so that offense can be healed and influence used rightly, rather than turned inward to build something God never asked for.