2 Samuel 11:26-12:13 Commentary

It’s possible you got to the end of last week’s text deeply dissatisfied. Uriah, for all his integrity, is dead.  David, for all his duplicity, has gotten his way.  If this were the end, we might despair of justice and righteousness but, as it turns out, last week’s ending was just the cliff-hanger in a two-part series.  And now we get to hear what God has to say.

Familiar Words

Chapter 12 begins with a familiar word. In this way, according to Robert Alter, “the second stage of the story of David and Bathsheba — the phase of accusation and retribution — begins with a virtual pun.” Throughout chapter 11, David is sending: warriors into battle, messengers to Bathsheba, sending for Bathsheba, sending for Uriah, sending a message through Uriah.  With each sending, David exerts his power and authority as King.  Given all of that, verse 1 should give us a good anticipatory chuckle. Comeuppance is on its way. “And the Lord sent Nathan to David…”

Here in Nathan’s story we hear a familiar sequence of words.  In describing the poor man’s devotion to his ewe in verse three, Nathan says the sheep eats…drinks…lays down.”  Returning to David’s temptations of Uriah, you will note the same sequence of three words.  He wants to ply him with food and drink and the comforts of Uriah’s wife’s bed.

One final familiar phrase pops up in this text, again at the very beginning.  The writer identifies the woman in question as “Uriah’s wife.” Even though Uriah is now dead. Even though it seems the King is only waiting for the period of mourning to pass so he can take Bathsheba into his harem.  Walter Brueggemann elaborates, “Remarkably, Bathsheba is not called by her own name, even in this royal wedding announcement. She is called by her right name, only identified by reference to Uriah to whom she is married. She is “the wife of Uriah.” That is how the narrator wants us to regard her. That is who she will always be; David’s daring, ruthless act will not alter that fact. Even in the royal genealogy of Matthew (ch. 1), in which Tamar (v. 3), Rahab and Ruth (v. 5), and Mary (v. 16) have their own names, Bathsheba remains “the wife of Uriah” (v. 6).

Guilt + Power = Quick Judgment

Given David’s own guilty conscience as well as the obvious literary/parabolic nature of Nathan’s story, it may be surprising how quickly David jumps to judgment. Robert Alter plays this out. “It is a little puzzling that David should so precipitously take the tale as a report of fact requiring judicial action.” After all, notice that Nathan doesn’t preface his story with a request for the King’s judgment on the matter.  And yet “Nathan may be counting not the possibility that the obverse side of guilty conscience in a man like David is the anxious desire to do the right thing. As king, his first obligation is to protect his subjects and to dispense justice, especially to disadvantaged.”  As we might now observe, his subconscious is eager to put right what he did wrong by externalizing his own guilt and being angry at in in another person. “Now as he listens to Nathan’s tale, David’s compensatory zeal to be a champion of justice overrides any awareness he might have of the evident artifact of the story.”

Since many of us who preach are also pastors, this is a remarkable insight about our critics, the perpetually grumpy, the legalists and those who are quick to judge.  Such behavior can make it hard for a pastor to come alongside while also ducking to avoid the lashing out.  But, perhaps, we have a new lens on those individuals who are quick to judge.  They are eager to put things right because they feel so wrong inside.  And it is that guilt that needs our attention and care.  It also needs our creativity and wisdom to draw it out, much like Nathan models here for us.

Speaking Truth to Power

In verses 7-12, Nathan uses a more traditional approach of speaking truth to power through a prophetic messenger formula. Given the severity of the punishment meted out — “out of your own household I am going to bring calamity on you” — it is right to put these words in Yahweh’s mouth.  This vengeance belongs properly and exclusively to God. But before the consequence can be handed down, a more deft trick is needed.  A confession must be extracted.  Here, Brueggemann observes, “The narrative struggles with how truth shall speak to power. The prophet addresses the king. Such speech is dangerous business, especially to address a king so cynical and desperate. The parable is the right strategy, for it permits the king to draw his own unavoidable conclusion. David could rightly discern the parable. What he does not discern is how the parable touches his own situation.”

Sermon Illustration:

In terms of modern day prophets, we might rightly remember the witness of Archbishop Desmond Tutu.  Though well before he was afforded a miter and all the vestments appropriate to his position in South African society, he was a humble priest, a humble black priest in apartheid South Africa.  And he developed a reputation for several, seemingly conflictual, things: an infectious laugh, love of children and of dancing on the one hand and a wicked but wise penchant for saying true things to people who did not want to hear them.  In an essay about Desmond Tutu’s prophetic voice, professor of preaching Johan Cilliers wrote, ““The remarkable thing is that (Tutu) mostly reacts in a mischievous way, using rhetorical techniques like irony, indirect speech, parody, and lampooning to state his convictions and envisage alternatives, much like the so-called fools of all ages and cultures. He could indeed be called a ‘rabble-rouser’, as his authorised biography states. He often relativizes serious situations by means of humour, acting as a type of clown or court jester or joker. In the process, he does not take himself too seriously.”

It is indeed a remarkable thing to stand before kings, presidents and dignitaries and to tell them the truth they do not want to hear. Right to their faces.  Not many of us will have this same opportunity in our lifetimes.