When we say “justice” we are really looking for punishment, or compensation, or fairness.
2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a
November 10, 2024
Dr. Todd R. Wright
When we last left David’s story, Bathsheba, Uriah’s wife, was pregnant with the King’s child, Uriah was about to be killed in battle, on the King’s orders; and it seemed like the King was going to get away with it!
Predictably, this story has left a bad taste in our mouths!
This was the man who God had chosen after examining his heart! This was the man who was supposed to be an upgrade over Saul, that flawed king who had let power go to his head! This was the man who was to be our model for leadership!
But then he shirked his role of leading God’s army into battle, raped Bathsheba, tried to cover it up, drew others into his sin, and eventually ordered the murder of Uriah!
Stan Mast writes, “To commit this kind of sin, you have to omit God from your story, put God out of your mind, and leave [God] out of your decisions.”[2]
David does that, and yet the people he wronged get no justice!
(Oh we are not naïve! We know that wealth and power often allow people to avoid responsibility, slip the sting of penalties deserved, and thumb their noses at justice! But this lack of justice is hard to stomach in a story where God is supposed to be involved.)
How do you think Bathsheba felt?
She is raped by the King and no one, not even her husband, can do anything about it.
Her husband is killed, and no one points a finger.
She grieves, but no one acknowledges the full extent of her brokenness.
She has to give birth to this child, this product of rape, and bear the shame in silence.
She has to move into the house of her attacker, become his wife, and put on a brave face.
The tabloids gossip about her beauty, tell stories about how she caught the eye of the King, gush at how lucky she is, spin it like a romance novel, but she knows the truth.
She has been violated, treated like an object to be passed from one hand to another, one bed to another, one household to another; she has been silenced and shut in a gilded cage.
Maya Angelou would have understood. She too was raped. And so she writes:
“A caged bird stands on the grave of dreams, [her] shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
[her] wings are clipped and [her] feet are tied, so [she] opens [her] throat to sing.”[3]
I wonder what Bathsheba sang about?
The text says she made lamentations; maybe she drew from the book of Lamentations.
Chapter 3 begins, at least in the KJV: “I Am the man that hath seen affliction …”[4]
The NRSV describes that affliction in graphic terms that must have resonated for her:
“He shot into my vitals the arrows of his quiver;
I have become the laughingstock of all my people,
the object of their taunt songs all day long.
He has filled me with bitterness …
He has made my teeth grind on gravel; he has made me cower in ashes;
my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is;
so I say, ‘Gone is my glory and all that I had hoped for from the Lord.’”
I wonder if she ever made it to the end, where the writer wipes away ugly tears and says:
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.’
The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him.”
Bathsheba waited. And God heard her lamentation and sent the prophet Nathan to David.
This, finally, is the justice we have been waiting for!
Nathan tells a story of a rich man who abused his power, who stole and killed without a second thought. It is an evocative story, and a glimmer of what God had seen in David’s heart is kindled, so he calls out for justice!
At that point Nathan springs the trap and proclaims, “You are the man!”
And in case the guilty man is confused, he lists all the blessings God had showered on David and asks a question: why? Why, with all you had, did you feel the need to lay your hands on Bathsheba? Why did you take another man’s wife? Why did you abuse your power? Why did you despise God’s words – the commandments about coveting and lying and killing; the words about justice for the powerless; the words of covenant between God and David delivered by this same Nathan? Why?
No answer. But because David has despised God’s words, the sword will never depart from his household, he will know public shame, and the child, born of his rape of Bathsheba, will die.
In response, David can only admit, “I have sinned against the Lord.”
He might have added, and against Bathsheba and Uriah, but it is a start.
Is this the justice we have been expecting?
Maybe you are asking why God sticks with David, or why Bathsheba doesn’t get a better outcome, or why the child has to die.
When we say “justice” we are really looking for punishment, or compensation, or fairness.
Let’s be clear: when God is the one doling out justice, there is always a healthy dose of grace.
That means undeserved mercy and hidden blessing, but not always relief from consequences.
Scott Hoezee writes, “This story … shows that grace is always looking for a way into people’s hearts. And when grace can get in, things can begin anew …”[5]
God’s grace will not force its way in. Confession opens the door. And sometimes a person like Nathan with a good story prompts a person like David to stop denying and admit their sins.
Maybe leadership looks like Nathan bravely, subtly demanding justice.
Maybe it looks like Bathsheba, who in her lament calls on God to do what she cannot.
Maybe it looks like David finally coming clean and admitting his sin, so the healing can begin.
And maybe leadership looks like God delivering justice … and grace. Always grace! Amen
[1] “You are the man!” by Angelika Kauffmann
[2] From his reflections on the text for cepreaching.org, 8/5/18
[3] From “Caged Bird”, although I have chosen to modify the gender of the pronouns
[4] See Lamentations 3:1, 13-18 and 21-25
[5] From his reflections on the text for cepreaching.org, 8/1/21
Comments