Now in the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it by the hand of Uriah. He had written in the letter, saying, " Place Uriah in the front line of the fiercest battle and withdraw from him, so that he may be struck down and die." So it was as Joab kept watch on the city, that he put Uriah at the place where he knew there were valiant men. The men of the city went out and fought against Joab, and some of the people among David's servants fell; and Uriah the Hittite also died. (2 Samuel 11:14-17 NASB)When I visited the Dominican Republic some years ago we drove by a modern monument that was clearly tragic. When I asked about it, I was told it was for the the men who killed Trujillo, the dictator of the Dominican Republic. The story went that Trujillo had a group of men who would go through the city and kidnap women for him, once he slept with them, he would release them. At one point he captured the wives of some of his top police leaders, and they refused. So he jailed their husbands. They still refused, so he killed them all and their husbands and threw them off this cliff where the monument stood. So, 5 men (related to the victims) very high in Trujillo's court arranged for and carried out his assassination. They paid for his death with their lives, but were remembered years afterward as heroes.
Trujillo was a tyrant, the worst of the idea of dictator. He was an amoral thug, an evil ruler. But, that's what we expect when someone has absolute power; absolute corruption. We don't expect it from David though.
Even knowing this chapter is coming, having gone through Samuel up to this point, it still shocks. What David did as he sinned with Bathsheba is still such a deviation from his character to this point that it's hard to imagine. Having Uriah killed is one thing, but to send the command by his own hand was a stroke of unusual cruelty for David. It means that David knew he could trust the character of Uriah to not read the note while in transit. It means that David knew the character of Uriah was above his own. In fact, reading of Uriah to this point is tragically ironic as he consistently demonstrates more moral character than the king he serves so faithfully. One of the saddest ironies of Scripture is the response by Uriah when David asks him why he did not go down to his house and hide David's sin with his wife. He swears on David's life and the life of David's soul he would not do this thing. He refers to the Ark and his fellow soldiers in tents, the army in the field. Why was David not there? It's a tragic irony, where you see his moral character and faithfulness to his king become his undoing.
David kills one of his own 30 faithful long-serving valorous body guards, one who fought beside him while running from Saul, while living in Ziklag, against the Amalekites, and in Hebron. Uriah stands as one of faithfulness and character, highlighting these qualities lacking in David; at least right here.
It's true David seems devoid of these qualities right here, and that they are replaced with the worst of human qualities. With David, the worst is never the end of the story. With David there is another quality that remains at the bedrock of all the others. He is willing to repent. Chapter 11 is about his moral failure of epic proportions. Chapter 12 is about his repentance, also of epic proportions. Chapter 11 is the worst of David, where chapter 12 is arguably the best.
What this chapter does is bring David's rock-solid faith into sharp relief. It's not a faith so strong he never fails. It's a faith so strong he always gets back up and recovers from failure. It's not amazing that David has this moral failure, it is shocking, but not amazing. What is amazing is what Nathan is able to do in the next chapter. And so you don't go all 'fearless-man-of-God' on Nathan, read chapter 11 carefully, and consider how many people knew exactly what David did. I wonder how many of his faithful soldiers moved a few more blocks away from the palace. While it wasn't amazing that Nathan knew, it was amazing that he had the courage, knowing what he did, to confront the king. I'm sure he was afraid, but we'll get into that in the next chapter.
The hinge pin on which the life of David turns is the last verse of chapter 11. From there a failure becomes a lesson. But until that verse, it seems very dark, David seems in danger of becoming another despot, another malevolent dictator, another example of human depravity and the utter corruption of absolute power.
I wonder how many people, without the absolute power, hide from God wearing fig leaves, rather than approach the hinge-pin of their own lives. I have lived from childhood comfortable with shadows and shades of truth. I have seen it in my family (haven't we all?), but I never saw a real emergence from the shadows. They weren't bad enough to really require some dramatic repentance, I suppose. Or, like so many of us, denial makes living among them seem lit. The gray semi-gloom becomes normal and we treat it like light. Yet reading Scripture creates an uncomfortable feeling that all is not as light as it should be.
David passes out of darkness and into light. He pays the consequences and accepts from his Master what comes from his own sin. The pathway to light is often paved with consequences. And it is usually these consequences that keep me in gloom, and my fear of them keeps me from a light I can barely imagine. I suppose in times like this, what I need is the courage to follow the path of consequences into the light. But I have found that I also need patience, peace, and joy never hurts either. These things are only found growing on the branches of a life filled with the Spirit of my Master. So, really, what I have always needed was the presence of my Master in me; just like David.
