Lambless
2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; John 6:24-35

August 6, 2006


The pen is mightier than the sword, a lot of people say, though few trust or rely upon the pen’s might. Force, whether physical, psychological or political, is always easier and much quicker. For once in this media-saturated age we have to slow down to hear a story that slays our hearts and our self-awareness more effectively than any metallic weapon.

No story is without a context, a situation that surrounds the people telling and listening to the story. We skipped last week the unpleasantness of Uriah the Hittite. Actually, it should be the unpleasantness of David which seems to have arisen out of idle boredom.

This won’t sound quite right in the church, but you see David was supposed to out there in the spring fighting as all kings were wont to do. You didn’t fight in the winter in those days; too cold and too muddy - what did they know about winter? But there was something untoward about David’s staying home for this campaign. He sent his commanding general Joab as his proxy and the Israelite army seemed to be doing quite well, ravaging the Ammonites and besieging Rabbah. The Biblical narrator is as laconic as ever, “But, David remained at Jerusalem.”

Eugene Peterson caught sight that the primary verb repeated laconically throughout the ensuing narrative is “sent” or “send.” David sent Joab into battle. He looked down upon Bathsheba and sent an inquiry about her; then he sent messengers to fetch her back to his place. Bathsheba ended up sending back word that she was pregnant.

That prompted David to send word to Joab to send home Uriah the Hittite, but that cover-up did not work. David sent back a note to Joab to put Uriah in a bad spot and when the deed was done, Joab sent a report back to David. When Bathsheba had finished her mourning, David sent for her and brought her to his house.

We are all too aware of the quiet scandals of powers today. Sending can be a very silent activity overloaded with a lot of sinister meaning. Real power prefers the absence of attention and the sounds of silence. God, nevertheless, thrives in silence and can hear even the smallest voice. So while few were aware of what had been happening, God was displeased.

And so, God sent Nathan. The last time the verb is used, and in the process lays bare the less than sterling intentions of all the other “sendings” preceding it. God sends Nathan to tell a story, a fairly simple unembellished tale that never mentions God or anything moral. It’s David’s job to finish the story.

He finishes it all right, with a fury and rage befitting someone who has just watched a provocative TV docu-drama, full of righteous indignation, with a little bit of royal swaggering and threatening. Too bad he did not know that it was all about him.

One seems to get the picture that David and Nathan are just sitting out on the deck in the nice weather and without explanation or introduction, Nathan launches into this simple tale. A painful story to hear even at this distance in time, and nobody ever really misses the point. It’s not a parable about one or another person’s individual failings and hypocrisy, not anymore. With the newspaper in one hand and the Bible in the other, we see this parable lived out in the greed and self-centredness of corporations and their CEOs who gleefully romp and play with the assets and lives of modern-day poor farmers leaving them lambless.

There is no need to pursue this parable in any depth, for its point was far more clear and straightforward than any of Jesus’ parables. David and Nathan and God and Bathsheba move on, and the important thing is that David heard the message God had sent. He saw who he was and had been and knew that this was not who he was intended to be. He recognized his sinfulness and learned a sad bit of truth about himself and how he related to God and to other human beings not so graced, not so powerful as him.

The climax of this episode is the moment after David has ranted and raged about the pitilessness of the rich man, Nathan shoots back, “You are the man!” This was not a legal brief awaiting a royal judgment or an intellectual puzzle or a TV mystery. This was a story about you, and in particular, who you are. That’s a story we rarely want to hear.

I watched recently an online streaming of a sermon by Otis Moss III, minister of Tabernacle Baptist Church, Augusta, Georgia. Reverend Moss was preaching that morning about family disputes, departing from the infamous saga of Cain and Abel. As is the current custom in Black congregations, Moss asked everyone to turn to their neighbor and say, “This is not about your family!” Then he turned and looked directly into the video camera’s eye, and said, “Just to make it clear, this is not about any of our families. Those of you who are watching this broadcast, this is about your families!”

Not too subtle humour. Of course, it is about your families! Of course, the scripture being read is about you! You are the man/woman! There are many who want to read the Bible as an ancient source of wisdom, history and sociology of a bye gone society; that is, as a book about other people. Sure, not too many of you have finagled to bump off the spouse of your lover in recent days, but how you use your personal and institutional power to manufacture results pleasing to you is very much on the table. There are not many Nathans around, however, and it is presumptuous and dangerous to be a Nathan. I wouldn’t recommend the job. Therefore, you have to be the one with the courage to pick the story up off the table and know that the bell tolls for thee.

Nevertheless, there is reason to pay attention to David, despite his despicable deeds. When finally confronted, he realizes he is not the person he thought he was. He was a person driven by God, but now his actions demonstrated that he thought inwardly he assumed the role of God. “I have sinned against the Lord,” was his anguished response. We have heard that before, especially with movie celebrities after they have fallen off the righteous wagon and must make right with their fan base.

David is neither doing a formal pretense of knowing he has sinned, nor is he beating himself up, making himself out to be the eternal sinner. By recognizing that he has greatly sinned, he is also declaring that there is hope for himself, that the relationship with God is deeper than sin. Yes, there are consequences; it’s not just saying a prayer and moving on to the next sin. The son of David and Bathsheba does die heartbreakingly. David returns his heart and mind to where it belongs: a servant of God, not the almighty king of Israel.

The ornery character of God paints the big picture: God blesses people and things we won’t. David kingship wouldn’t survive in today’s unforgiving environment. Yet David keeps on going, another son Solomon comes along. David knows the story is about him, knows he is a sinner, knows that God is interested in remaking him. The same goes for you, by the way.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan