Two Notes on 1 Samuel 24

1 Samuel 24
          Let me note a problem and a lesson in this chapter.  The problem comes first, because it is in verse 1, namely, what does it mean that the Lord incited David to take a census?  We notice that the Lord's anger burned against Israel, but there is absolutely no indication of the reason.  We could hypothesize:  the Lord's anger has burned over Israel's chronic idolatry, over her complaining about everything, over her refusal to do things the way He said.  Whatever it is, I think that recognizing some unnamed sin in Israel's corporate, national life is the best way to understand God's 'inciting' of David.  The Scriptures assert over and over again that the Lord raises up and brings down kings for His own purposes, that the nations of the earth are His instruments.  What we have here, then, is the Lord doing in Israel what He claims often to do in and through the other nations.  The difference here is that He is 'inciting' His own anointed so that He can discipline His own chosen nation.
          Now, one could suppose that the Lord could have just skipped the middle man and left David out of it.  He did that repeatedly during the Exodus and wilderness periods.  But here the Lord 'hides His hand,' so to speak; He hides His agency and causation.  I suppose the unsettling question is how we can know if we ought to blame circumstances on the Lord or on human evil.  That's certainly a hard question, but I wonder if  we should pay a little more attention to the verb 'incite.'  Incite seems to suggest that the idea was already there in David and the Lord simply nudged him in a direction he was already leading.  Certainly David doesn't think that it's the Lord's fault!  He takes the blame himself.  Here, as so often, we don't have to make a choice between the Lord's agency and human agency; here, as so often, the Lord seems to be merely co-opting human evil for His own purposes.
          So much for the problem, now the lesson.  I owe this one to our campaign consultant, who pointed it out to me in its parallel spot in 1 Chronicles 21:24.  Araunah offers to give David his threshing floor as a site for sacrifice, his oxen for the sacrifice, and his farming equipment for the wood.  But David insists on paying for it and says, "No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing."
          That's a convicting thought.  Let me tell you something:  as my wife and I have thought and prayed about our commitment to Divine Savior's fall campaign, our conversation has often centered around what we can afford.  That is, our conversation has centered around what gift we can make that won't cost as all that much.  But after our initial discussions, my wife and I have 'talked ourselves into more.'  We've grappled with  whether our gift is costly or not.  From a strictly human point of view, one of the disadvantages of being in on the campaign conversation from the very beginning is that we've had a lot of time to keep re-considering.  And frankly, I don't know that we're done yet.  Commitments won't be made until October, and I have a feeling this statement of David's will weigh on us for a while yet.
          I would hope that all sorts of people would wonder about David's statement, "I won't give a gift that cost me nothing," whether it is in terms of our regular giving to our congregations or extra campaign gifts.  To tell the truth, the more I think about it, the more I'd hope that that attitude would begin to shape several areas of our lives--whether the time we spend with our families (I know that I've told my children and my mother, "I don't have time;" but maybe I need to give gifts that cost me something) or the ways we think about gifts in general (if you're looking for a cheap way out of a gift, maybe you need to re-think the purpose of a gift!).
          One final thing needs to be pointed out:  the threshing floor of Araunah will become the site of Solomon's temple.  We'll unpack that a little when we re-read the story at the end of Chronicles.

David's "Last Words"

2 Samuel 23
         The first verse says that these are David's last words.  What does that mean?  It might mean that this is some sort of formal statement of David's, a sort of pre-recorded, official statement--similar to someone who might write his/her own obituary.  It might actually be David's last words, even though he will speak again in this book and the next.  (I think it bears remembering that ancient authors didn't feel the same wooden obligation to exact chronology as modern ones often do.)  I tend to think it's more of the first one, sort of David's valediction over his career.  I say that because of the way that he asserts, 'Is not my house right with God" (v. 5)?  That seems to be like saying, "Well, God kept His promises.  I reigned for a long time and, even though there were some doubtful moments, He saw it through."
          After the Bathsheba incident, Absalom's revolt, Sheba's revolt, and all the trouble it brought, the mature David honors God's choice of him and even 'brags' a little about his own success.  That sort of valediction is only possible in hindsight.  There are those moments when the Lord allows the road of our life to rise a little that we might get a glimpse of where we have been.  It's in those moments that faith is able to trace out a line and say, "Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come; His grace has brought me safe thus far, His grace will lead me home!"

David's Adultery

2 Samuel 11-12

            Ah, the sordid tale of David and Bathsheba1  There is really no good way to spin this story.  We note that David sent the army into the field but he himself stayed home.  Bad sign, #1.  He had no motive other than lust in sleeping with Bathsheba—no political gain to be had, no favor to be curried, no alliances to seal.  Bad sign #2.  Finally, there is the arranged murder of Uriah.  If only he had gone home instead of being all noble!

            Things were really tracking upward for David.  He had beaten the Philistines and won a capital (ch. 5).  He had begun to restore the proper worship of the Lord (ch. 6).  The Lord had promised that his throne would endure (ch. 7).  He’s beaten his enemies and made peace with the remnant of Saul’s family (ch. 8-9).  Unfortunately, adversity had brought out the best in David and now prosperity begins to bring out the worst in him.  There’s probably a lesson there about us, too, and our proclivity to lose sight of the Lord in the good times . . .

            A couple of notes:  the Bible never flinches from showing us that even the greatest ‘hero of the faith’ is just a poor, miserable sinner like the rest of us.  Abraham, Jacob, Moses, the judges—they all fell into doubt and sin.  In some ways, the constant failures of the men of God set us up for Jesus.  Just about the time we’re thinking, “Isn’t there anyone who can do the job?” Jesus appears and honors the Father in all things.  In another way, it warns us against trusting our own spiritual resources:  if they can’t do it perfectly, we can’t either!

            A second bit in this reading is Nathan’s confrontation of David and the aftermath.  First off, notice that Nathan is a master of the parable.  Please, put away the old saw that a parable is an earthly story with a heavenly meaning.  A parable was a way to speak truth to power, to cloak an iron fist in a velvet glove; it was designed to make the hearer recognize his own failure.  Second, David’s repentance is genuine.  (Read Psalm 51 to prove that point.)  Third, the sin is forgiven (v. 13), but the consequence of the sin remains.  I think that probably troubles some of my readers.  But we should understand that forgiveness means the guilt of sin is taken away; it does not mean that we can walk away scot-free from the consequences of our sin.  Spread malicious stories about a friend, and that friend may forgive you.  It is unlikely though that they will trust you anytime soon.  I’m sure we’ll talk about that last point on Sunday!

2 Samuel 6

2 Samuel 6

            The notes in The Lutheran Study Bible pointed out something important about the transportation of the ark from the house of Abinadab to the Jerusalem:  the Israelites transported the ark on an ox-drawn cart—just like the Philistines had.  The ark had rings and poles by which it was supposed to be carried by the Levites.  By the time of this incident, Israel has clearly forgotten how to handle their own sacred vessels.  The fact that David had a tent prepared in Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6:17) raises some hard question about whether this was the tabernacle or not.  (The commentators in The Lutheran Study Bible think not.)  So, perhaps the Lord’s patience is already a little frayed, helping to explain the death of Uzzah.  Certainly there’s a lesson here about paying attention to the Word of God.  Don’t want to run afoul of the Lord?  Remember what He said!

            A second note is David’s self-abandonment in his joy over the ark of the Lord.  It seems to me that David saw himself as dancing before the Lord while Michal thought he should be more concerned about men.  But that’s exactly what’s right with David (at least for a while yet).  He sees himself first of all standing before God and his standing before God determines his actions before men.  That’s a good lesson for us, too.  Your identity and your calling come first from God.  Too often we let our identity before men determine our relationship with God.

            Finally, I don’t know if this foreshadows trouble for David or not, but I do wonder why he offered sacrifices and not a priest.  When Saul did that, it was less than commendable.  Why does David get away with it?  (Other kings will do the same thing, notably Solomon, David’s son.)  The three great offices of the Old Testament are distinct:  prophets speak God’s words to the contemporary age; priests make sacrifices and instruct in God’s Word, and kings rule.  David seems to be taking over an office that didn’t belong to him.  He wasn’t even a Levite, much less a priest!  Lessons?  Perhaps simply to recognize the limits of one’s own vocation.  As a citizen, it’s not my right to determine that a law doesn’t apply to me; as an employee, it’s not my prerogative to complain about a new direction that management is taking us; as a child (hypothetically), it’s not my place to tell my parents what they need to do to raise me.  As a king, it’s not David’s place to offer sacrifices, although in this instance he is not criticized for it.

Timing

2 Samuel 5

            David was 30 when he became king in Hebron (2 Samuel 5:4).  Considering he was young enough to escape his father’s notice when Samuel came anointing, he had probably waited 15-20 years for his chance.  After a certain age, that doesn’t seem like quite so long, but it seems like forever when you’re 30!  And still, it was going to be another 2 years until he unified Israel, and 5 years after that that he would occupy Jerusalem, and some years after that that he finally subdued the Philistines and the rest of his enemies.  The first thing that strikes me, then, is the sheer length of time that the Lord takes to work out his promises.  Since we live in an era when communication is instantaneous and everything happens fast, the notion of waiting 20-40 years for God’s promises to work themselves out boggles the mind.  I find myself content to be the age I am now because I can look back at events 25 and 15 years ago with a certain detachment, a certain wisdom, a certain insight that I lacked when I was going through them.  Time to reflect and consider and grow is a great gift of God.

            The second thing that I’ll point out is more a historical reflection.  I have argued in Bible class that Israel was at best a loose confederation of tribes during the time of the judges—nearly 300 years.  Even Saul doesn’t seem to have really unified the tribes into a nation.  It is David who finally, after a 2 year civil war with all sorts of political intrigues, unites the tribes into a cohesive kingdom.  If you’re looking for meaning in that, I guess part of the meaning is that the Lord doesn’t just work along the relatively short timelines of human lives (20-40 years); He also works on the much longer timelines of nations’ lives (hundreds of years).  And, if we could stretch it a little bit, He works on the timeline of the eons that run from Creation to New Creation.  To read the story of David is, at least in part, to be reminded not to crowd God’s timing.  He works at His pace, for His purposes.  When it suits Him, He lets us see what He’s up to.

The Politics of Kingship

2 Samuel 3-4

          Historically, there are some key elements about David's ascent to the throne and his reign in 2 Samuel 3-4.  For example, chapter 3 starts with a statement about David's sons.  Evidently, it is never too early to start planning for and worrying about succession.  We'll hear about Amnon, Absalom, and Adonijah as the story of David unfolds.  We'll also see the succession become complicated in the aftermath of the Bathsheba incident.

          The bulk of these chapters, though, detail the shenanigans and personalities and motives that finally gave David the throne over all Israel.  It's a sordid tale.  Pretty clearly, Abner, Saul's general, was the power behind the resistance.  Ishbosheth, Saul's remaining son, hasn't the stomach or temperament for armed resistance.  However, Ishbosheth does accuse Abner of sleeping with one of Saul's concubines.  (I don't recall another reference to this incident to say that Abner did indeed do that deed; given Ishbosheth's characterization as a fearful man, I would assume he had solid proof that it had indeed happened.)  The thing is: sleeping with the king's concubine was tantamount to claiming the throne.  So, Ishbosheth, the titular king, challenges Abner, the de facto king, about the latter's presumptions, and Abner decides to turn the whole thing over to David.  Perhaps Abner thinks David will show him more respect and let him have his autonomy.

          David is no fool, and he sees a chance to unite the kingdom without further warfare.  David seems wise enough to know that he is putting his hand into the viper's nest, but he seems willing to take that chance for the sake of accomplishing his larger goal.

          Joab is no fool, either.  He knows that Abner is a dangerous tool.  He also knows that he has a perfectly legitimate reason to get rid of him:  revenge.  So, he does the job that David was eventually going to need doing and kills his rival's general.  (The old King James says, "He smote him under the fifth rib."  That's not significant at all, but sometimes I just love the old translations.)  We're going to see Joab exhibit this same ruthless insight in the future, too.  Joab is a pretty savvy political operator; every ruler needs a man who will do the jobs that need doing while still providing cover to his boss.

          David makes the most of the opportunity.  He mourns Abner loudly and publicly so that all the people love him and are drawn to his side.  On the one hand, we should note the desire of David to be noble and generous with his enemies.  On the other hand, we should also note that he seizes the opportunities that circumstances afford him.  

          The sad fact is that in this fallen world we're always going to be gripped by multiple motives--some of the pure and holy, some of them sinful and self-serving.  And even in the midst of our messy lives of mixed-up motives, the Lord works behind the scenes to bring His plans and purposes to fruition.

Mixed Motives

            David’s response to Saul and Jonathan’s deaths is mixed.  He executes the Amalekite messenger and he grieves deeply for Saul and Jonathan.  Those things are matters the text makes clear.  On the other hand, David’s motivations are ambiguous.  Some have suggested that David’s reluctance to slay Saul, ‘the Lord’s anointed,’ is self-serving.  After all, David himself is the Lord’s anointed, and he doesn’t want to set a dangerous precedent.  It wouldn’t do him any good if people had it in their heads that they could assassinate the king with impunity.  He needed to demonstrate that killing the king was an act against the Lord Himself.

            There may certainly be a streak of self-service in David, but the story of Samuel is an overwhelmingly positive portrait of David.  On the positive side, David is pretty clearly motivated by grief.  He had loved Jonathan as a brother, and, despite all the trouble between them, he seems to have carried a genuine affection for Saul with him, too.  His lament at the end of 2 Samuel 2 is one of the great poems of world literature and expresses his deep grief over the loss of his friend, his king, and the fortunes of his nation along with the king.

            Finally, and probably most importantly, we ought not lose sight of the fact that David is motivated by his own trust in the Lord and in his ways.  He’s been described as a man after God’s own heart.  So, his grief over the Lord’s anointed is not just self-serving or personal, but it is also a reflection of God’s own grief over the fact that Saul had rebelled against Him.  (God’s hope seems to spring eternal.  No matter how often the representatives of Israel fail to live up to his expectation, He always seems to hope that the next one will rise to the occasion.)

            On that last point, it’s important to see that God’s hope is focused not in the progression of failures.  God’s hope is focused in the One to whom all of Israel led—Jesus.  So, God’s is not just a sunny optimism about humanity’s better nature.  Instead, His hope moves determinedly forward to the Faithful Israelite.  In the same way, Christian hope is not just sunny optimism, but a determination to see the world in light of Jesus’ resurrection and all that that means for the future of the world.

            Finally, one quick point of application:  if David’s motives are ambiguous, we probably shouldn’t be surprised if we can’t figure out why exactly we do the things that we do.  Sometimes we act out of self-preservation.  Sometimes we act out personal emotional engagement.  Sometimes we act out of faith in the Lord.  And most often we act out of all three at once.  So, for example, I have a hard time criticizing other pastors—first, because I know that if I criticize, I open myself to criticism; second, because I fear  undermining of the Office in possess and hold dear; finally, because I know that I am called to speak for the building up of my brothers and sisters in Christ.  The first of those motives is the most self-serving; the second is a mix of noble and selfish motives; the third is based on the calling we have all received from God. Our motives are rarely pure.  On the other hand, the nobility of our new life in Christ has its part in our motives, too.