Instead of a sermon this morning, how about a love story? I mean a real love story, not the tragedy of David and Bathsheba nor the complications of Solomon and his many wives. Our readings for the last month or so have traced this complicated family saga. The chapters about David and Bathsheba start as a drama of lust, abuse of power, conspiracy and murder. It feels so uncharacteristic of God’s beloved King David, that we wonder why these chapters weren’t edited out years ago. Then comes their son Solomon who starts out so strong, then goes off the rails. Very human, but very odd and unsettling. But there it is in our scripture, so we need to rethink the message.
I do think there is a love story here – but not the one between David and Bathsheba; not the one between Solomon and his seven hundred wives. It’s the love story of God with his people, us. God loves us so dearly, he sends messages, stories, parables and finally himself to wake us up and get us to stop hurting ourselves and each other.
Think about the beginning of the saga. I love the story of David. (It’s my middle name!) We know that God did love King David, with all his faults. David, like most of us, had a few weaknesses. Maybe it was a hot day, maybe the Opposer suggested to David that it would be pleasant to take a roof-top stroll after his late-afternoon nap. And, over there, what’s that, could it be a woman bathing? “Take a closer look, David, just to be sure.”
Our human nature is so fragile. There’s an important lesson in the prayer Jesus taught, asking God to, “Lead us not into temptation.” Temptation is a very pleasant thing. It starts small and seemingly innocent, but it grows perniciously. Before you know it, the smallest temptation becomes the root of a nest of lies, self-deception, and destructive behaviors. Temptation can easily lead us to do unimaginable things, such as plotting and carrying out the death of an innocent, plunging whole families into chaos and pain and shame.
Here’s how it goes: David asks about the beautiful woman, is told of her family and how husband Uriah is off fighting with David’s army. David sends messengers to fetch Bathsheba. Even if she were suspicious of his motive, how can anyone say no to the King? In a story that might be out of Hollywood or the tabloids or a corporate office park, consent or no, adultery occurs. Pregnancy ensues. The cover-up begins.
David’s cover plan was for Uriah to appear to be the father of Bathsheba’s child. Uriah is sent to David, gives his report, then David urges Uriah “go on down to your house and wash your feet.” A euphemism for “domestic intimacy.” But Uriah, the upright infantryman, refuses special treatment and sleeps in David’s courtyard. David, now desperate, plots Uriah’s murder by “friendly fire.” Uriah is put in the front line, then left alone to die.
David’s dilemma seems resolved. He just went about his business and added the widow as a wife. But what David had done was wrong in the eyes of the Lord. The prophet Nathan helped David see his sin using the parable of the rich man who takes a poor man’s pet lamb for his dinner. David is stricken by the realization of his sin. David confessed fully, no excuses. “I have sinned against the Lord.”
Once called out by Nathan and made fully aware of the sins he had sunk into, David acknowledged his sin and accepted blame for it fully. He blamed no one else. He didn’t try to justify it by circumstances. He didn’t shift blame to others. David fully confessed and meant it. There’s a message here about the critical role of confession and forgiveness in our lives.
David loved God. But David had sinned. He paid a price for his sin. We can ask why a price had to be paid for sin, for injustice, for wrongful harm to others and to God. Why can’t God just forgive and forget? Didn’t David acknowledge his sin? I don’t know the answer, but both Judaism and Christianity have similar explanations. In short it’s this: There is a cosmic balance. Sin is a distortion, a force which tears the fabric of the cosmos, and it must be rebalanced by a restorative force. We see this in Psalms where on the one hand, there is understanding, justice and judgment, and on the other side there is wisdom, mercy and compassion. These seemingly opposed principles are linked in some divine way and when the balance is equitable, there is harmony and beauty in the cosmos.
In Christian and Jewish mysticism these seemingly opposed, but linked eternal truths, justice and righteousness on the one hand, mercy and compassion on the other are taken together to form the foundation of the world under God. Another word for the grace-filled balance of these divine principles might be Love. God loved David. And David loved God.
The balance in this sad case was restored by a personal price for transgression. David confessed, did penance and paid a price for his sins. He and his family suffered. The son born of their adultery was stricken by the Lord, and became very ill. David prayed for the child, he went hungry and sleepless. On the seventh day, the child died. Everyone expected that since David had prayed and fasted so fervently, David would go into prolonged mourning, become bitter and look for vengeance.
Instead, David got up, washed and ate. He went on with his life. David did not wail about his bad luck. David did not mourn for the rest of his life. David did not curse God. David confessed, he suffered, he paid. He accepted the justice of the price paid for it. David still had an important life to be led and future work to be done. God took David’s contrition and decision to go on, and God multiplied David’s works in the rest of his years as king to God’s purpose and to the world’s benefit.
And I think this is the point of the story. God has a purpose and use for each of us. David and Bathsheba’s next child, Solomon, succeeded David as King and was allowed to build a Temple that lasted for centuries. Solomon had such a good start, then he and his people slipped back into idolatry.
Solomon’s glorious, but idolatrous reign petered out in civil war shortly after Solomon’s death. Over the centuries the Jews of Judea and Israel were assaulted, captured and exiled. Through their faith and synagogues in exile, the stories of God’s promise to Abraham, Moses and David spread throughout the world.
But this was not the eternal house promised to David. That came much later, through the child born of a later descendant of David - her name was Mary. And her child Jesus is the promised Messiah, the Son of God, born of the House of David. The universities of Babylonia, the fortresses and principal European cities of the Roman Empire had a network of synagogues preserving and teaching the lessons and promises of the Jewish Old Testament. Jesus’ Jewish mother Mary understood, believed and accepted the annunciation that she would give birth to the promised Savior. Jesus’ disciples, all believing Old Testament Jews, were ready to announce the Messiah, the second generation of faith in the One God now immanent in the world. They announced it first in Judea, then Samaria, then to Syria, Anatolia, Greece, Italy and throughout the synagogues of the wider Roman Empire.
The coming of Jesus changed the equation. What happened to David and David’s family need never happen again. We will all certainly sin. But believers in Jesus no longer have to pay the redemption price for our sins. We will have scars from sin, scars we’ll carry, and there are unavoidable consequences. But everyone who believes and accepts that God sacrificed his only son, himself, in order to pay the price for all our future sins, accepts that our debt has been canceled. God’s son Jesus paid the one-time price on behalf of every future human being who accepts it. We have to acknowledge our wrongs, confess, and try to do better. But the balance is restored.
We can move forward. We can be freed from the negativity, the downward pressure, the guilt and shame of the sins and errors we’ve fallen into. Like David, we need to take inventory of what we’ve done and what we must do. Confess and accept. The price has been paid. Our job is to move forward with God. We all have a lot to contribute. No matter how small we think our assets, God can multiply our little works into big outcomes.
All four gospels recount how Jesus solved the problem of feeding hungry crowds. Jesus asks his disciples, “How will we feed these people?” The disciples whine “Woe is me” and “There’s nothing to be done.” The easy route. Jesus points in the right direction by asking “What do you have?” Examining our inventory breaks the self-pity and focuses us on what we have and where we’re short. True whether we’re inventorying the pantry or our soul.
Now, the disciples took inventory and turned up small resources, nowhere near enough bread and food to get the job done. Jesus then asks the disciples to give the few loaves and fish to him. Your assets may seem skimpy to you, but with God’s help, small things can grow enormously, like little seeds and big trees. I think this is one way to understand today’s Gospel theme - that Jesus is the bread of life and when we are joined with Jesus divine things begin to happen.
None of us has enough innate virtue to please God. But we all have a scrap, a fish, a barley loaf. All God asks of us is that we recognize the need in front of us and look at the resources we have. Then offer it to God for his multiplication.
I think the practical lesson here is this: If we haven’t sinned already, we very likely will. We are just human. God encourages us to do a clear-eyed inventory of both our shortcomings and our gifts. First acknowledge where we’ve followed temptation and done wrong. Repent and put it in God’s hands to re-balance. That much is our job. Jesus paid the price for us so we do not have to pay again. Understand that, think on that, and use it. The beautiful balance of the cosmos will be restored. This will clear your decks from the murky cloud of sin. Then, with clear eyes search for your gift, you will uncover it. Ask and you will find a way to do the works God planned for you before you were born. It may seem inconsequential to you, but just put your talents and gifts into God’s hands. God can multiply what we commit to God beyond our imagination. Why is this so? Because this is a Love story.
Love God back.
Amen.