Power tends to...
Text: 2 Samuel 11:1-15
If last week we discovered that not much in politics and power has changed over three thousand years... this week is another lesson... Guaranteed to hit harder than anything we’ve had before. This is the story of David and Bathsheba... It is not a poignant love story... It is not a gentle tale about a noble king and a fair maid. This is a story of corruption, adultery, treachery, murder, cover-up, and out and out robbery. It is one of those stories that most of us don’t believe could possibly come out of the Bible, and yet here it is... laid out before us, demanding our attention. What do we do with such a story? Do we ignore it? Do we pretend it isn’t there? Hardly. Stories like this demand our attention, and are perhaps more important than any platitude we pick up in the Bible. Sex, power, and politics... This is real life. This is gritty. This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God!
The story starts out imaginatively enough, and is penned with the skill of a powerful writer. We are spectators, listening in wonder at that first phrase.
In the spring of the year when kings go out to battle...
From the opening words, the majestic scope of an epic tale is promised. A tale of epic heroism is promised, “in the days of yore” and all that kind of inspirational stuff. Yet very quickly it moves from the broad crane shots of armies trundling across the fields to the placid chambers of king David. David is at the peak of his power... the pinnacle of achievement. Yet David is also at middle age. His glory days in the field are now past. Like a chief corporate executive who has it all, David strolls about his villa, whilst his vice-associates are out pounding the pavement and fighting his battles for him. David has it all. It’s good to be the king.
One afternoon David is strolling about on the roof of his house when he sees a young woman bathing in the garden. He immediately sends a messenger, finds out who it is. It is Bathsheba, wife of Uriah the Hittite... One of David’s subcommanders, a foreigner from up north. Very quickly it happens. He sends for her, he takes her, he sleeps with her... No agonizing, no debating within his heart. David simply does... because he can. It is good to be the king.
No one would have ever known. David had everything under control. Except... those fateful words from Bathsheba... “I am pregnant.” He was not the first to hear those words, and most certainly not the last. Yet suddenly everything seems threatened, and David sets about to solve this “inconvenience,” using everything in his power to sweep it under the rug. Yet David doesn’t despair... he simply does.
The first plan is to get Uriah (Bathsheba’s husband) to go and sleep with his wife. That way, it would not seem out of the ordinary if she were pregnant. Uriah, however, is far too loyal for his own good. He doesn’t. Four times David tries to get Uriah to disobey company policy, four times Uriah remains loyal to the troops. David even tries getting him drunk... still no luck.
Plan B: Eliminate Uriah. He’s in battle. People die. If Uriah were out of the way, David could take Bathsheba as his wife, and no one would know. David instructs his commander Joab to ensure that Uriah is abandoned in the field, and left open for attack. That way it would look like the consequence of war. Death would come swiftly, and Uriah would fall. David takes Bathsheba into his household and she becomes his wife. Problem solved.
Wait a second! Wasn’t this little David? The same shepherd boy who defeated Goliath, who led the troops of Israel against incredible odds against the Philistines? The greatest king that Israel has ever seen? Where are all those noble qualities? The humble shepherd boy anointed to be king over the people of God... where was this ideal king now? So much for “family values...” By the time this story is over, David has managed to stomp all over at least seven of the ten commandments.
There is no remorse, no wrestling with conscience... David simply does. Politics is not for people with weak stomachs, David’s had to make some difficult choices in the past. Why should it be any different in his personal life? David simply does because he can. With all of this power and wealth at his disposal David can do pretty much anything he wants, and get away with it. Yet in this story, the once ideal shepherd boy is completely overshadowed by a coldly cynical middle-aged king. David knew what he was doing was wrong, and yet did not pause for a minute to debate the finer points of sin. He simply does, because he is God’s anointed, and woe to anyone who gets in his way. David had become self-righteous... assuming everything he did was in God’s interest... whether it violated any commandment or not.
All along our hopes for an righteous king are blown apart in this single story. It is a tragedy. We identify with David as the ideal king, as one to look up to... yet he proves in this one action to be even more corrupt than his predecessor Saul. It’s effective storytelling, because up until now we have felt a bond with David. We rooted for him against Goliath, worried for him when Saul chased him, applauded him in his just dealings with Israel.... Suddenly, this story catches us off guard. We are all ready to cheer David along in another tale, and all we can do is watch our ideals crumble away. We see David in a much different light. Yet since the writer encouraged us to identify with David so closely until now, this story helps us to see ourselves in a different light too. We are no longer cheering for David but wondering where those borders of right and wrong are... Where is the good news in that?
Admittedly, it’s hard to do… because at least as of this part of the story, there is no redemption… not yet anyway. David doesn’t even seem to have a conscience, let alone being troubled by one. We try to come up with ways to distance ourselves from someone we once thought a hero. After all... David is a king! We’re just average people sitting in here.
We can try to get away with clicking our tongues at David, and feel comfortable in our own pew. Yet after spending so much of our time identifying with David in every story up until now, it is very hard for us to pull out. The writer pins us down, and we can’t get away from this one. The message is for us as the church and for us as individuals. David may well be a king, but that was his distinct gift. He was a gifted ruler, capable of uniting the people of Israel in a way that had never been done before... Yet while we are not kings, each of us have those unique gifts and qualities that make us special in God’s sight. God calls us to use our own gifts responsibly, and not to assume that we get what we deserve.
This is a cautionary tale. A reminder to us… first, don’t put anyone on a pedestal, because as human beings we are all fallible. Secondly, if we believe that we are incapable of doing any wrong, then that is the very moment when we are most likely to do it. David had lost his integrity when he lost sight of what God called him to be.
The painful reality is that we are much more like David than we want to admit. We are gifted, God calls each of us to live our lives as whole people. Yet being human, we can become complacent with success, corrupt with the power that we’ve have, self-righteous in assuming we know that God wants of us. If power and success tend to corrupt... so does complacency... and we miss God calling us... Through this story we see our own humanity painfully revealed. There are consequences in abusing power or our own personal gifts. Most importantly a loss of integrity and sense of who we are.
This cautionary tale shows us that even those who are considered to be the most righteous are fallible human beings. God calls us to be mindful of our own gifts and skills, but never to use them for personal, selfish gain. Fortunately, there is room for forgiveness and redemption… but that story… that story is next week.
Amen.
If last week we discovered that not much in politics and power has changed over three thousand years... this week is another lesson... Guaranteed to hit harder than anything we’ve had before. This is the story of David and Bathsheba... It is not a poignant love story... It is not a gentle tale about a noble king and a fair maid. This is a story of corruption, adultery, treachery, murder, cover-up, and out and out robbery. It is one of those stories that most of us don’t believe could possibly come out of the Bible, and yet here it is... laid out before us, demanding our attention. What do we do with such a story? Do we ignore it? Do we pretend it isn’t there? Hardly. Stories like this demand our attention, and are perhaps more important than any platitude we pick up in the Bible. Sex, power, and politics... This is real life. This is gritty. This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God!
The story starts out imaginatively enough, and is penned with the skill of a powerful writer. We are spectators, listening in wonder at that first phrase.
In the spring of the year when kings go out to battle...
From the opening words, the majestic scope of an epic tale is promised. A tale of epic heroism is promised, “in the days of yore” and all that kind of inspirational stuff. Yet very quickly it moves from the broad crane shots of armies trundling across the fields to the placid chambers of king David. David is at the peak of his power... the pinnacle of achievement. Yet David is also at middle age. His glory days in the field are now past. Like a chief corporate executive who has it all, David strolls about his villa, whilst his vice-associates are out pounding the pavement and fighting his battles for him. David has it all. It’s good to be the king.
One afternoon David is strolling about on the roof of his house when he sees a young woman bathing in the garden. He immediately sends a messenger, finds out who it is. It is Bathsheba, wife of Uriah the Hittite... One of David’s subcommanders, a foreigner from up north. Very quickly it happens. He sends for her, he takes her, he sleeps with her... No agonizing, no debating within his heart. David simply does... because he can. It is good to be the king.
No one would have ever known. David had everything under control. Except... those fateful words from Bathsheba... “I am pregnant.” He was not the first to hear those words, and most certainly not the last. Yet suddenly everything seems threatened, and David sets about to solve this “inconvenience,” using everything in his power to sweep it under the rug. Yet David doesn’t despair... he simply does.
The first plan is to get Uriah (Bathsheba’s husband) to go and sleep with his wife. That way, it would not seem out of the ordinary if she were pregnant. Uriah, however, is far too loyal for his own good. He doesn’t. Four times David tries to get Uriah to disobey company policy, four times Uriah remains loyal to the troops. David even tries getting him drunk... still no luck.
Plan B: Eliminate Uriah. He’s in battle. People die. If Uriah were out of the way, David could take Bathsheba as his wife, and no one would know. David instructs his commander Joab to ensure that Uriah is abandoned in the field, and left open for attack. That way it would look like the consequence of war. Death would come swiftly, and Uriah would fall. David takes Bathsheba into his household and she becomes his wife. Problem solved.
Wait a second! Wasn’t this little David? The same shepherd boy who defeated Goliath, who led the troops of Israel against incredible odds against the Philistines? The greatest king that Israel has ever seen? Where are all those noble qualities? The humble shepherd boy anointed to be king over the people of God... where was this ideal king now? So much for “family values...” By the time this story is over, David has managed to stomp all over at least seven of the ten commandments.
There is no remorse, no wrestling with conscience... David simply does. Politics is not for people with weak stomachs, David’s had to make some difficult choices in the past. Why should it be any different in his personal life? David simply does because he can. With all of this power and wealth at his disposal David can do pretty much anything he wants, and get away with it. Yet in this story, the once ideal shepherd boy is completely overshadowed by a coldly cynical middle-aged king. David knew what he was doing was wrong, and yet did not pause for a minute to debate the finer points of sin. He simply does, because he is God’s anointed, and woe to anyone who gets in his way. David had become self-righteous... assuming everything he did was in God’s interest... whether it violated any commandment or not.
All along our hopes for an righteous king are blown apart in this single story. It is a tragedy. We identify with David as the ideal king, as one to look up to... yet he proves in this one action to be even more corrupt than his predecessor Saul. It’s effective storytelling, because up until now we have felt a bond with David. We rooted for him against Goliath, worried for him when Saul chased him, applauded him in his just dealings with Israel.... Suddenly, this story catches us off guard. We are all ready to cheer David along in another tale, and all we can do is watch our ideals crumble away. We see David in a much different light. Yet since the writer encouraged us to identify with David so closely until now, this story helps us to see ourselves in a different light too. We are no longer cheering for David but wondering where those borders of right and wrong are... Where is the good news in that?
Admittedly, it’s hard to do… because at least as of this part of the story, there is no redemption… not yet anyway. David doesn’t even seem to have a conscience, let alone being troubled by one. We try to come up with ways to distance ourselves from someone we once thought a hero. After all... David is a king! We’re just average people sitting in here.
We can try to get away with clicking our tongues at David, and feel comfortable in our own pew. Yet after spending so much of our time identifying with David in every story up until now, it is very hard for us to pull out. The writer pins us down, and we can’t get away from this one. The message is for us as the church and for us as individuals. David may well be a king, but that was his distinct gift. He was a gifted ruler, capable of uniting the people of Israel in a way that had never been done before... Yet while we are not kings, each of us have those unique gifts and qualities that make us special in God’s sight. God calls us to use our own gifts responsibly, and not to assume that we get what we deserve.
This is a cautionary tale. A reminder to us… first, don’t put anyone on a pedestal, because as human beings we are all fallible. Secondly, if we believe that we are incapable of doing any wrong, then that is the very moment when we are most likely to do it. David had lost his integrity when he lost sight of what God called him to be.
The painful reality is that we are much more like David than we want to admit. We are gifted, God calls each of us to live our lives as whole people. Yet being human, we can become complacent with success, corrupt with the power that we’ve have, self-righteous in assuming we know that God wants of us. If power and success tend to corrupt... so does complacency... and we miss God calling us... Through this story we see our own humanity painfully revealed. There are consequences in abusing power or our own personal gifts. Most importantly a loss of integrity and sense of who we are.
This cautionary tale shows us that even those who are considered to be the most righteous are fallible human beings. God calls us to be mindful of our own gifts and skills, but never to use them for personal, selfish gain. Fortunately, there is room for forgiveness and redemption… but that story… that story is next week.
Amen.
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