2 Sm 11:26-12:14

6 August 2000

 

"Give It to Me Straight"

 

Today's Old Testament reading is the continuation of a story that represents a dramatic turning point in the life of David and in the life of Israel.  The story of David and Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, comes like a cup of cold water in the face.

Up to this point, we've only known David the righteous, David the hero, David the giant killer.  Now we're introduced to David the unrighteous, David the bully, David the killer, plain and simple.  We've seen him as the courageous and artistic shepherd, who, when not defending the flock from predators, would sing songs to the Lord.  We've seen him as the model of mercy and self-control, who, when repeatedly and unjustly attacked by King Saul, still refused to take his life, even when it was within his grasp.

Chapters 11 and 12 of 2 Samuel show us a different David.  This is a man who uses his power to take what he wants, and when things go badly, resorts to deception and betrayal to make things right.  This is a man who has forgotten his first love, his God, and has fallen in love with his own desire.  All in all, it's a pretty sad picture.

But as I mentioned at the start, our reading picks up in the middle of the story.  To get the whole picture, we need to back up a bit—though not too far, just to chapter 10!  It's there that we see David being his noble self.  The Ammonite king has died, and David, as the scripture presents it, simply wants to maintain good relations.  He sends envoys to Hanun, the son who is now king.  However, Hanun's officials, "the princes of the Ammonites," suspect that they're really spies, and they come up with a colorful (and offensive) idea (v. 3).

They go for the insane barber approach by cutting off half the beard of each man.  Along with that, Hanun's advisors do a hack job of tailoring that leaves each envoy wearing something like a hospital gown.  It's not the most dignified way of sending them back home!

Of course, when David hears how his ambassadors have been treated, any further gestures of good will are put on the shelf.  Now, having basically dared David to do anything about it, the Ammonites recruit some Arameans (that is, Syrians) to join them in fighting Israel.  After the Arameans are defeated, that leaves the Ammonites alone to face the king that they have insulted, not to mention his army!

As chapter 11 begins, we see Joab, David's chief military officer, making the Ammonites pay dearly.  They're laying siege to the city of Rabbah.  It's the final part of verse 1, though, that really stands out:  "But David remained at Jerusalem."  This is where things begin to unravel.

We don't know why David stays in Jerusalem, instead of going out with his army, as the scripture says kings would do "in the spring of the year."  Maybe with a top-notch commander like Joab leading the troops, he felt he could sit this one out.  Maybe he wasn't feeling well; who knows?  What we do know is that following an afternoon nap, David takes a stroll on his rooftop.  From that vantage point, he sees things that one wouldn't ordinarily see—such as a gorgeous woman…let's say, less than fully clothed!

Of course, you know the story.  The king wants to know the identity of the bathing beauty.  Upon finding out that she's married to one of his soldiers, he goes right ahead and demands that she be brought to him.  One might think that finding out that Bathsheba is a "Mrs." would put an end to it.  But no:  David sees, wants, and takes the woman, as simple as that.  No problem—he's the king.  He can do whatever he pleases.

David isn't pleased when Bathsheba lets him know that she's pregnant.  So to cover up his deed, the king has Uriah brought back from the front.  David wants him to sleep with Bathsheba, so that the baby will seem to be Uriah's.  But ever the loyal soldier, Uriah can't imagine doing such a thing while his brothers-in-arms are in the field.  David even tries getting him drunk, but when that fails, he turns to a more sinister solution.  Uriah must die, so that he won't be around to know the truth.

David sends a message to his hatchet man, Joab.  He's to expose Uriah to enemy attack, so that the Ammonites will surely kill him.  When word comes of the military disaster, the king's anger is calmed when the messenger includes among the casualties the name of Uriah the Hittite.

David's message back to Joab goes something like this:  "Don't worry about it.  This is war.  People die.  Just be strong, continue your attack, and take the city."  When Bathsheba has finished mourning her husband's death, David (gentleman that he is), again has her brought to him, this time to become his wife.  She gives birth to the child, and as far as David is concerned, the case is closed.  Things got a little messy, but he was able to cover all his bases.

Well, if it seems like "end of story," then we're due for some more of that unraveling I mentioned earlier.  Chapter 11 ends on a somber note:  "But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord" (v. 27).  All David wants to do is to get this business behind him.  Bathsheba is now his wife (even if it wasn't her choice); the baby has been born; and Uriah is out of the picture.  But there's still one major player who hasn't forgotten—God.  And God enters the picture that David has desperately tried to keep God-free.

God does this by sending a prophet.  Over and over in the Bible, when there's a situation of injustice, of idolatry, of unfaithfulness, a prophet steps onto the scene to bring the word of God—to set right what has been wrong.  Nathan is just such a person.  An injustice has been done; there has been unfaithfulness to the God who has extended so much grace and mercy.  And this time, the prophet is sent, not to one noted for his wickedness, but to one usually seen as a good man.  God sends a prophet to David.

But Nathan isn't just any prophet.  "If Nathan is a prophet, he is also a man who seems to be a friend to David."[1]  Think about it.  David names one of his sons after him (2 Sm 5:14).  Of all the people he could consult, David lets Nathan know about his plans to build a temple for the Lord, and while the prophet lets him know that he isn't the one to build the temple, he does tell the king, "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before [God]; your throne shall be established forever" (7:16).  Later, Nathan names Bathsheba and David's second son (12:25).  And when Adonijah seeks to seize the throne, Nathan remains loyal to the king and to the son he has chosen to succeed him, Solomon (1 Kings 1).  Nathan comes to David not only as God's prophet; he comes to David as his friend.

How does he do this?  By telling a story.  He doesn't just come in and let David have it with both barrels.  And this is a good strategy:  gain David's sympathy before giving the bad news.  Knowing his friend's upbringing, what better way to do that than with a tale of a poor man cheated of his beloved little lamb by a rich man in possession of herd after herd of sheep?  Nathan describes this despicable man, who when visited by a traveler, refuses to prepare dinner from his abundant resources.  Instead, he seizes the poor man's only lamb, of which Nathan says, "it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him" (v. 3).

David is so infuriated that he pronounces the rich man worthy of death.  Reflecting the requirement of Exodus 22:1, he demands that the poor man be repaid with four sheep.  David is disgusted at this gross abuse of power.  How dare the rich man, with all the sheep he has at his disposal, decide that that's not good enough and instead go after the cute little lamb that has been treasured as a family pet?  What an outrage!

But now, David hears something he doesn't expect.  Out of the blue, Nathan says, "You are the man!" (v. 7).  This takes guts.  Nathan has just heard David talk about what a scumbag the rich man in the story is.  And now he's comparing David to said scumbag.  Friend or no friend, you're on dangerous ground when you tell the king that he's been a scumbag!  But isn't it possible that Nathan is showing just how true a friend he is?  It would be easy to just go along and pretend that nothing's wrong—to just be a yes-man.

I was thinking about that very thing this week as Banu and I were watching the movie "Once Were Warriors."  Produced in New Zealand, it's the story of the struggles of a modern-day Maori family.  Prominent in the film is the father, Jake, whose love for alcohol is matched only by his love for fighting.  In one disturbing scene, during a party in which Jake has invited all his drunken friends to the house, he becomes enraged at his wife Beth, who has refused to prepare a meal for one of the men present.

Jake explodes.  He starts slapping Beth and throwing her into walls.  The horror is heightened when we see a shot of the children upstairs, trembling and hugging each other while sounds of their father's shouts, as well as of things being broken, reach them from downstairs.  And yes, I know that domestic violence isn't limited to New Zealand; it happens here in Jamestown, and it even happens in the church.  (By the way, this won't be my final comment on the matter!)

I noticed that at the first sign of trouble, everyone at the party heads for the door.  Among all the men there, not one speaks up, not one lifts a finger to prevent Jake from beating his wife.  His so-called friends don't confront him.  None of them has the courage to be a Nathan to him.

Nathan demonstrates his courage, and his character as a true friend, by letting David hear what he needs to hear.  More than a friend, he's indeed a prophet.  He speaks God's word to David.  “Thus says the Lord.”  The Lord has raised him to the position of king over all Israel, “and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more” (v. 8).  Zeroing in on his fault, the king has taken a woman by force and eliminated her husband in what was no act of war, but simple murder.  The consequences of his actions will be felt for years to come, culminating in the rebellion of one of his own sons, Absalom.