Lessons from David and Bathsheba

In 1951 20th Century-Fox released its epic Biblical drama of the supposed love affair between King David and Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, one of the nation’s generals. It is a tale worth retelling today for many reasons, not the least of which is to correct the Biblical record on what really transpired between those two in the ancient story. But why retell that story today? Because it says volumes about the importance of holding heads of state accountable for their crimes.

It is hard not to fall for a love story when portrayed by the likes of Gregory Peck and Susan Hayward, even when it leads to the crime of murder. Tragic as this story of illicit love may be, all the better for the titillating tales of Hollywood. There is only one major problem in the Hollywood story line; nothing in the original version found in the book of II Samuel suggests anything about mutual affection, rather it is a story of the abuse of power and what happens when kings do as they please simply because they can.

From the roof of his palace, King David happens to see Bathsheba bathing. The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) of the Bibles states that David, struck by the woman’s beauty, “sent messengers to get her, and she came to him and he lay with her,” in spite of the fact that “she was purifying herself because of her period.” (Also a taboo.) Thereafter, Bathsheba informs the king that she is pregnant.

This is not a romance story. It is a story of lust where the king does what he wants, because, in the words from a certain Access Hollywood tape, “When you’re a star, they let you do it.” Actually, as most women will tell you, there is no “letting” involved. It is power, pure and simple. One does not say no to the king. Might we view that 1951 movie differently if it depicted Gregory Peck raping Susan Hayward?

In a 1995 film, Liam Neeson portrays Rob Roy, a fighter for justice in Scotland in the early 1700s in a struggle with a powerful and corrupt nobleman who rapes his wife, portrayed by Jessica Lange. The rapist triumphantly says to his victim, “So what thinks thee of me now?” She replies in a powerful and haunting voice full of disgust, “When my husband finds thee, I think of thee dead and then I think of thee no more.” To think of the abuser no more is perhaps the ultimate victory for all those traumatized by such violence.

In a plot that makes Watergate look amateurish (oh wait, they did that on their own), King David proceeds to orchestrate a coverup of the rape. Uriah, however, proves himself to be more honorable than the king and thwarts the plan to make him appear to impregnate his wife by sleeping with her while his troops are engaged in battle. “Why not?” says the king, “You could use a pleasurable break from the brutality of war!” (NRBV, the New Revised Bryant Version.) Uriah, however, refuses to take such pleasure while his troops have none. So David then arranges for his troops to abandon the commander in battle, leaving the enemy to do the dirty work for him, murder by foe. Uriah now out of the picture, the king once again takes what is not his to take and adds Bathsheba as his concubine.

Pause for a moment and consider just the remarkable fact that this sordid tale of one of the most revered figures of Jewish history is even in the Bible. The fact that scripture includes such tales of human failure, especially of its heroes, is illustrative on many levels. There is much to learn here about what happens when power is abused, temptation is not avoided, and most of all, when political leaders govern with no accountability.

Ah, but accountability does come, which I am convinced is why this story was not swept under the rug of holy coverups. Nathan, God’s spokesperson for a time such as this, comes to the king with a tragic tale of a poor man with a single ewe lamb that “was like a daughter to him.” A rich man with many sheep takes the single lamb from this poor man to butcher for a feast to honor a guest. Such has been the story of the relationship between the powerful and the powerless for all of human history.

Matthew Desmond makes the rather disturbing contention in his book, Poverty, by America, that poverty remains a persistent reality in the U.S. because it benefits the rich. Desmond, the son of a Disciples of Christ minister (as am I), cites example after example of the same dynamic described by Nathan. Takings from the poor in the form of high interest and financial penalties on which banks profit. Low wages for workers that make it possible for certain businesses to make extreme profits. Tax breaks given to the rich that are three times greater than benefits provided to the poor. Landlords that make more profit in poor neighborhoods than they do in rich neighborhoods. What we have in this country, he told the the audience of the conference I was attending in our nation’s capital earlier this year, is not welfare but “wealthfare.” The whole system is set to benefit the rich.

The amount Desmond estimates would take to end poverty in this country is $177 billion. The amount IRS estimates they lose from tax evasion is $175 billion. Republicans sought and received a reduction of funds provided to the IRS to go after tax cheaters. Does anyone really believe it is because they were looking out for the interests of the middle class rather than those who benefit most from such tax evasion? Desmond asks, “Why settle for anything less than the abolition of poverty in a nation as rich as ours?” We should be as outraged by poverty today as the abolitionists of the 19th century were outraged by slavery then, says the preacher’s kid. This preacher’s kid couldn’t agree more.

King David is outraged by Nathan’s tale of the rich man taking advantage of the poor man. “As the Lord lives,” the king says, “the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” Then comes the most powerful line from Nathan announcing judgement on the king, “You are the man!” Nathan also confirms that no love was involved in David’s relationship with Bathsheba, equating her being taken by the king with the murder of Uriah, both crimes against the law of God.

Religious conservatives love to cite Christian-Judeo heritage on which this nation was built. The David and Bathsheba story illustrates one such principle central to American jurisprudence: no person is above the law. Whether or not we actually hold to that principle is about to be tested in the highest way imaginable. The fate of democracy in this country could very well depend on the outcome.

One more thing to note about King David. When confronted with his crimes, David immediately admits his guilt. Wouldn’t that be refreshing today? It does happen, though not as often as it should. Now the playbook is some combination of proclaiming your innocence, declaring it a witch hunt or hoax, claiming everybody does it and/or hollering “weaponization” of the Department of Justice. Especially infuriating are those who point to the emails of Secretary Clinton or the documents found in the private premises of President Biden and Vice President Pence, as if there was any similarity to those found in Mar-a-Lago. Worse, they totally disregard in the process the degree to which the former President is alleged to have hidden from investigators what he knew he should not have taken and had no right to keep. (To the President’s credit, who else would have thought to hide classified documents in a bathroom?) That he could declassify documents just by thinking it, as he first claimed, sounds just about as credible as fighting Covid by injecting bleach, but let’s not go there.

Finally, note the consequences of the king’s transgressions. By confessing his wrongdoing, Nathan says David’s life will be spared, but the child born to Bathsheba will die. Should we take from that horrible outcome that God has a rather warped sense of justice, taking the life of an innocent baby for the sins of the father? Or might we see the tragic loss of innocent life not as the judgement of God, but the consequence of the abuse of power? As we saw on January 6th, 2021, irresponsible speech by those in power can lead to deadly consequences. People lost their lives and hundreds more were injured or sent to prison because of the lie created and perpetuated by one man’s lust for power and claim on that which was not his to claim. For now we should think of him as innocent, yet I wait for the day to hear a judge pronounce in a court where no one is above the law, “You are the man!” And then, may we think of him no more.

6 thoughts on “Lessons from David and Bathsheba

    1. Thanks Myron. BTW, in case any one wonders, I originally wrote “regard him no more” but decided to change it to read “think of him no more”, following the earlier quote.

  1. Dan, this is very well said. I love it when we don’t whitewash the stories but let them mirror our lives and promote transformation.

  2. Thanks, Dan. You always manage to bring the best perspective to the issue at hand.

  3. Great post. Really appreciate your emphasis on the crime of sexual assault (Bathsheba literally has no choice – as the text states, David sent messengers for her and they took her to him). Also appreciate the connection to abuse of power and accountability in our own society in this time.

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