to return to your place in the text.To read endnotes, click on the the note number, then click on the
"I'll say," Blondie replies.
They continue to stare at the TV, eyes wide open. Says
Dagwood, "Darnedest tire commercial I've ever seen."(1)
Uh-huh. If it is any consolation, as our lessons this
morning indicate, a preoccupation with sex is nothing new,
especially in high places. And if you were either horrified or
fascinated with the saga of Bill and Monica a couple of years
ago, this one is exponentially worse.
Of all the characters portrayed in scripture, it is hard to
find one more complex than King David. David is the great hero
who rose to power from humble beginnings, a shepherd boy not even
admired by his own brothers, who had become, by God's amazing
grace, the king of Israel. He had replaced his flawed
predecessor Saul and salvaged the monarchy from its less than
stellar beginning. He became known as, not only Israel's
greatest king, but also as a man after God's own heart.(2) But
scripture is painfully honest in never attempting to canonize
David, disguise his flaws, or excuse his mistakes. It simply
lets the story unfold - his life as a shepherd, his loyalty to
Saul, spectacular victories on the battlefield and equally
spectacular failures at home.
Let us revisit the details: it was springtime in Jerusalem,
the season of birds and bees and afternoon strolls on the roof
for a dose of cool breezes. It was also "the time when kings go
out to battle," as the text says. But not all kings. The king
of Israel sent his troops under the command of his nephew, Joab,
who had been named commander, not because of the family
relationship but as a reward for heroism in the conquest of
Jerusalem.(3) Meanwhile, David lounged about high atop the palace,
which afforded him a spectacular view of the Holy City below.
One day, after a fresh air nap on the rooftop, the king
rubbed his eyes upon awakening. And then, no doubt, he rubbed
them again. Yes, the view was breathtaking - and especially so
today. The normally panoramic vista this afternoon included the
sight of a gorgeous and quite naked lady taking a bath. Whoa!!!
An aside here. If you wonder about bathing up there in
front of God and everybody with a higher vantage point, remember
that the rooftops of houses in ancient Israel were flat and
served as additional living and working space. The ancient
Israelites also had water gathering and storage systems on their
rooftops designed to trap dew and rainwater and carry it into
cisterns through pipes.(4) I doubt that any of us remember life
before indoor plumbing, but these rooftop systems were the next
best thing.
Now what? David could have been a gentleman and turned
away. But we know better - boys will be boys, even boys in high
places, as we know all too well. "Let's check this out! Who
might this lovely be?" The answer comes back: this is Bathsheba
daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite. Hmm. The
bride of one of David's own mercenaries (in fact, one of the best
of the best(5)) who is off to war with the troops at Rabbah. Send
for her. She comes over, whether willingly or unwillingly, we
cannot tell, but he was the king, after all, and one does not
refuse a command appearance. One thing leads to another...and
another and another...and what it finally leads to is a probably
frantic message not long after: "I am pregnant."
Meanwhile, during the course of the narrative, we learn
another rather personal detail not often uttered in polite
conversation, much less from the pulpit. The reason why the
tantalizing beauty was spotted naked in the first place was
because she was immersed in her monthly purification bath after
her menstrual period. If you wonder why such an indelicate
detail was included by our storyteller, it was to make sure no
one would wonder of this child, "Who's your Daddy?" Since Uriah
was off at war and Mrs. Uriah had ventured directly from that
bath to David's bedroom, we know what the answer has to be.
Now David has to think fast. As Bathsheba's fertile body
had conceived a child, David's fertile mind was conceiving a
plan. Cover-up. The original Zippergate. David sends word to
Commander Joab, "Send me Uriah the Hittite."
So Joab sends him. David calls Uriah in, ostensibly for a
report on the war. After hearing the news from the front, David
tells Uriah, "Go down to your house, wash your feet (ahem, wink,
wink)." In other words, go spend some "quality time" with
Bathsheba. The Hittite leaves the king's presence, but instead
of going down to his house he spends the night with the palace
guards.
You see, as one commentator has it, "Uriah belonged to the
John McCain school of war: as long as his fellow soldiers were
out in the field, he himself would abstain from the pleasures of
civilian life, including relations with the Missus"(6) (which, as
we all know, is exactly what David was wanting him to do to make
the cover-up work). For that matter, Uriah is not just
objecting to having it better than his buddies - he knows the
Israelite rules of holy war (even though he is not an Israelite);
as a warrior who must return to battle, he knows that sexual
relations, even with your wife, are not allowed.(7) Vietnam in
reverse: make war, not love.
King David obviously hopes that Uriah is not concerned with
Israelite covenant law, but he soon finds he is mistaken. Even
when David presents Uriah with gifts and later tries to get him
so drunk he will forget himself, Uriah the Hittite behaves
himself like a virtuous Uriah the Israelite. Ironic, isn't it,
that in the end, Uriah, the foreigner, keeps himself holier
according to Israel's law than does Israel's king? The guy was
too good to be true.
And in being that good, he signed his own death warrant. If
Plan A does not work, we move to Plan B. David sends Uriah back
to the front carrying sealed orders that he be placed "in the
forefront of the hottest battle." Sure enough, Uriah is soon
dead, along with a number of other soldiers who were caught in
the same deadly assault. Collateral damage, as they say. David
sends word with Joab's messengers not to worry about it.
Fortunes of war and all that. Win some, lose some. But we know
better - this was murder, pure and simple. Yes, this was much
worse than Bill and Monica.
The pregnant Bathsheba is now a widow with no one around to
raise the "Who's your Daddy?" question. After her period of
mourning (normally seven days), David has her moved to the palace
and marries her. And this before she would have begun to "show."
The cover-up has worked.
Or has it? The story says, "but the thing that David had
done displeased the Lord." Duh-du-duh-duh! ["Dragnet"].
Enter Nathan. A preacher. A storyteller. He says:
You can picture the drama in that throne room. Nathan looks
the king squarely in the eye, slowly raises his hand, pointing
his finger defiantly forward at the king and says, "You are the
man!"
You could have cut the horrified silence in that room with a
knife. Then the prophet continued:
What follows is truly amazing. The arrogance of power that
David had displayed in the events leading up to this moment
suddenly is gone. I can see both men staring at each other, then
David lowering his eyes and saying quietly, choking a bit, "I
have sinned against the LORD."
In the Hebrew hymn book that we have come to call the Book
of Psalms, we have one that comes from David's heart in the
aftermath of this sad affair, Psalm 51. I can picture him alone
later with his reddened eyes toward heaven and tears streaming
down his flushed cheeks speaking the words that have welled up
from the depths of his being:
Is there some moral lesson we are supposed to take from this
sad story? Do we need to be reminded that we are not to murder
or commit adultery? Do we need this story as an affirmation that
"Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely?" If you
need any of that, take it. Moral lessons always have value.
But I think there is gospel in this story as well (and, to
be honest, when I come to worship with you from week to week, I
need gospel more than I need moral exhortations - I know all the
"shoulds" and "oughts;" I need something more). The good news,
the "gospel," that I find here is that God can take someone even
as horribly flawed as David, and do great things with him.
I find that wonderfully encouraging in a very personal way.
Many years ago, on the Sunday after my birth, word of my arrival
was announced to the congregation of the Chelsea Presbyterian
Church in Atlantic City, NJ, the congregation to which my father
had been called as pastor less than a year before. My parents
told the church they had named me David, in the hope that I would
grow up, like the David of old, to be a man after God's own
heart. In the year's since, my sins may not have been as
egregious or public as those of David the king, but to say that I
am equally flawed frankly goes WITHOUT saying. That means then,
if David of old can be used of God, perhaps, in a small way, so
can I.
Can you see yourself in David's story? Perhaps there is
something in your past...or even in your present...that is
tearing you apart, and making you wonder if things can ever be
made right again. The good news I bring to you today is that the
story of David says ABSOLUTELY!
Another story we all know well says the same. It is the
story of a cross raised outside the city gates. Upon it hangs a
man, not because of his sin but rather because of King David's
sin and Preacher David's sin and your sin and yours and yours and
yours. The cross does not erase the seriousness of the evils we
commit, nor does it mean there are no consequences to what we do.
Rather, the cross "crosses them out," makes it possible for life
to continue, and for God to do great things. We have come to
call that "Amazing grace!" YES!
Then, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right
spirit within me."
Amen!
1. Young & Drake, "Blondie," The Washington Post, January 28, 2000, C12, quoted in
Homiletics, July-August, 2000, p. 33 2. I Samuel 13:14 3. I Chronicles 11:4-6 4. Homiletics 5. cf. II Samuel 23:18-39 6. Homiletics 7. Deuteronomy. 23:9; I Samuel. 21:4-5
There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and
the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and
herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe
lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it
grew up with him and with his children; 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. Now
there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath
to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the
wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor
man's lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had
come to him.
What? David could not believe such a thing. He says to
Nathan, "As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to
die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold [the normal penalty for
theft], because he did this thing, and because he had no pity."
Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: I anointed you
king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of
Saul; I gave you your master's house, and your master's
wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel
and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would
have added as much more.
David, you blew it! One commandment after another down the
drain - it began with covetousness, then adultery, then murder.
Will you suffer for it? You know it. You and your entire
household.
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast
love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my
transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my
transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against
you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in
your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence
and blameless when you pass judgment.
There would be a pause as the tears would flow more freely
now. From the inside out they would begin a process of cleansing
and renewal. Then finally, as the tears have begun their work of
restoration, David would be able to say,
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and
right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your
presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in
me a willing spirit.
I love happy endings, and I would love to report that this
story has one...but I cannot. The baby that Bathsheba has
conceived dies only one week after his birth. The king's family
falls apart, his daughter is raped by her half-brother; another
son has the half-brother murdered; son Absalom instigates a
palace coup and foments a civil war; David finally dies, a sick,
worn-out old man. As the old Pennsylvania Dutch proverb has it,
"Too soon old, too late smart." But remember, in spite of it
all, David is still Israel's greatest king, a man after God's own
heart.
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