David: King of Israel, Giant-Slayer, & Peeping Tom
2 Samuel 9-12
Ah, here it comes, David’s Babyface to Heel turn. This is always a sad week for my wife, because it represents a turning point in David’s story as well as indicating that we are moving headlong towards the end of Trinity Season and rushing towards Advent and the end of the year. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our recap of 2 Samuel chapters 9-12.
Chapter 9
King David sat around and wondered if there was anyone left from the house of Saul. One of his servants let him know that Jonathan’s crippled son, Mephibosheth, was still kicking. David made sure all the lands of Saul were restored to him and invited him to stay within the palace and eat at his table, which had the added benefit of keeping a potential rival claimant to the throne close at hand.
Chapter 10
The king of the Ammonites died, so David thought it would be nice to send some people to head over and offer condolences to his son, Hanun. But the new king’s advisor’s spit poison into his ear, suggesting that the Israelites were really there to spy things out for a possible invasion. Incensed, the new king grabbed the visitors, shaved off half their beards (half off each face, not half the guys shaved and the other half left alone), and stripped them to the waist. Now back in the day, this was quite the insult. Worse than saying ‘your mom wears army boots.’ When they got back to Jerusalem, King David let the affected men off duty while their beards grew back.
Now the Ammonites knew they had mucked things up, royally, so they hired a bunch of Aramean troops to attack Israel before they could be attacked. David countered by sending out Joab with an army. Joab was successful, but the Arameans decided to call in reinforcements from home, which in turn caused David himself to rally all of Israel and spanked them, leaving the Ammonites friendless.
Chapter 11
Ah, Spring, flowers a-blooming, birds singing, and in the ancient world, a time for armies to sally forth and beat the snot out of their enemies. Now, in times past, David would have been at the head of his troops, leading them to glorious victories. After all, it was why Israel wanted a king, wasn’t it? But while David was by no means old, he wasn’t as spry as he used to be. His days had been hard, and didn’t he deserve to kick back and rest a little?
Anyways, David woke up from a nap sometime just before sunset and decided to take in the view from the balcony. And lo, what should his little eyes spy? Why none other than the stone-cold fox, Bathsheba! And what’s this? There she was, on the roof of her place, getting ready to take a bath! Thus began David’s problems.
See, instead of just sticking to the sin of voyeurism, David decided to send for her, even after finding out she was married to Uriah the Hittite. That’s right, David was after one of his employee’s wives! And how could Bathsheba say no to David? It’s awfully hard to say ‘no’ to someone who possesses the supreme executive power of an absolute monarch. Besides, he was handsome and a musician to boot!
Time passed and it also makes fools of us all. Bathsheba sent word to the palace that she was ‘with child.’ Oopsie!
Now David was in a fix. What to do, what to do? And like many a man before and even more after, David’s solution to a bad decision was to make an even worse one. He called back Uriah from the front and tried to suggest that he should not neglect his husbandly duties. In other words, maybe Uriah (and others) could be tricked into thinking the child was his? But no go. Remember back when David was on the run, and he and his troops were able to eat the showbread because they were ‘keeping pure’ during the campaign? Well so was Uriah, and even if he was back in the capital, he wasn't going to let himself enjoy any hanky-panky when his troops couldn't.
Thwarted in his attempt to hide his sin, David decided to cover his tail with an even more egregious one. He sent Uriah back to the front and instructed his henchman, Joab, to put Uriah out front in a position where he was sure to be killed. Which is exactly what happened. After an appropriate time (or to be more exact, the bare minimum) of mourning, David brought Bathsheba into the palace as his new wife, and he was in the free and clear (yeah, right).
Chapter 12
One day, King David is lounging on his throne, Bo-Katan Kryze style, when Nathan the prophet (and purveyor of hot dogs) came waltzing in with a tale to tell.
“Once upon a time, there were two dudes. One rich, the other poor. The rich man had it all, cattle galore and sheep to boot. The poor man only had a sweet little baby ewe lamb (‘ewe’ with two e’s is a cute wittle wamb; ‘ew’ with one e is gross).
“But the rich man wanted the baby lamb, because he had a guest over and didn’t want to waste his own sheep on his visitor; so he stole the poor man’s sheep and cooked it up (yum).”
And David bolted out of his chair, incensed. “Ohh! Villainous treachery! Treachery villainy!” he bellowed. “Where is this fiend? I’ll cut out his gizzard, I’ll give him what for!”
“YOU!” cried Nathan, “You are that man!” Now David wasn’t a dumb man, but it took a second to sink in. Then, an oil lamp was lit above his head (the lightbulb not being invented for some years yet), and he realized that the story was a metaphor for his taking of Bathsheba and having Uriah killed. David felt rotten. He’d always been the hero of his own story. Heck, Israel’s story! Now, he was the villain of somebody else’s story, and maybe even Israel’s, too.
Then Nathan put in the knife. As punishment, God was going to visit great evil upon his house, take all David’s wives, and give them to other men; and worse yet, the little baby born to David and Bathsheba would die.
A hard pill to swallow, and David prayed and prayed and prayed, but in the end, God’s will was set and the little one died. David wiped his eyes; he’d done all he could, but now he and Bathsheba had to endure. They were able to conceive again, and to them was born Solomon, who might be important later.