Proper 13
Preaching
Preaching And Reading The Old Testament Lessons
With an Eye to the New
Our eye--witness account of the reign of King David over all of Israel continues. As we heard last Sunday, in order to hide his sin of adultery with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, David cleverly arranged for Uriah to be killed in a battle with the Ammonites. Joab, David's commander, brings the news to the king that Uriah's death has occurred as David ordered, and David considers that he has gotten off without blame or suspicion. His message to Joab is, "Do not let this matter trouble you" (v. 25). After all, warfare always brings with it casualties. David is not troubled. Neither should Joab be troubled.
Consequently, after Bathsheba has gone through the required period of mourning for her husband, perhaps seven days, perhaps three weeks, David sends for her and brings her to his house and makes her his wife. Significantly, however, Bathsheba is never called by her name in these verses. She is "the wife of Uriah" (v. 26), and she remains so, even in David's bed.
Verse 27 ends with the most significant words in the whole story. "The thing that David had done displeased the Lord." The story has all seemed so secular up to this point, so human with its intrigue and lust and power--plays. But no action on this earth is beyond the pleasure or displeasure of God, and while David and Joab are untroubled, God is not. David has thought himself autonomous, you see, able to run his own affairs as he wishes, just as so many in our time think that they are autonomous, self--governing, independent individuals. That is an illusory autonomy, however, for every person is made in the image of God, and is responsible to him in that unbreakable relationship, a relationship that is made even more inseparable by David's covenant responsibilities to the Lord.
So the prophet Nathan appears on the scene, bearing the Word of the Lord. Reinhold Niebuhr once remarked of Nathan's parable, "That's real preaching!" By his indignation over the uncaring greed of the rich man, who stole the poor man's little lamb, David indicts himself. He decrees death for the scoundrel, whereupon Nathan whirls on him and declares, "You are the man!"
"Thus says the Lord," Nathan proclaims twice (vv. 7, 11). God has done everything for David - anointing, delivering, giving, (vv. 7, 8); the verbs emphasize God's overflowing gracious action. But David has despised, smitten, taken, slain (vv. 9, 10), in his false sense of power and autonomy. "Therefore" (v. 10) God will reply with his actions! The davidic dynasty will never know peace, even within David's household. His punishment will be worked out not only in the battles that Israel will continually have to fight until she falls to the Babylonians. But David's sin will also return upon his own head in his relationships with his sons, just one of which is mentioned in our text. The reference to taking David's wives "in the sight of this sun" (v. 11) refers to his son Absalom's revolt against his father, during which Absalom lies with David's concubines upon a roof "in the sight of this sun." For all of our supposed independence and freedom to go our own way, there is a moral coherence that God establishes within our history and that he upholds in his lordship.
Upon hearing the Word of the Lord, David has enough ethical decency left in him to acknowledge his sin against the Lord (v. 13). Every sinful act against others is a sin against God. And God is merciful. As a result, the sentence of death, which David himself has pronounced (v. 5) is removed. David will live (v. 13). But he will live with the consequences of his actions for himself, for his child in Bathsheba's womb (v. 14), and finally for his people. Confession and repentance of our sinfulness do not often bring with them freedom from the effects of our wrongdoing. The murderer on death row who "finds Jesus" and repents nevertheless leaves behind him one he has killed. But acknowledgment of our sin and sincere repentance do prevent our relationship with a merciful God from being broken permanently. David can still pray and find God with him, and in that mercy there is undeserved grace and hope.
Lutheran Option: Exodus 16:2--4, 9--15
The people of Israel have been delivered from their house of bondage in Egypt by God, an event that took place about 1279 B.C., when Rameses II began his reign as the Pharaoh of Egypt. Now the people are journeying through the wilderness toward the promised destination of a land to call their own. They have recently left the oasis of Elim, with its water and palm trees in abundance, but now they face the problem of finding more food, although they are really not in desperate want. It's just that they aren't free to stuff themselves any more. They could eat to the full in Egypt. Now they're slimming down and a bit hungry, and so they complain against Moses and Aaron. "You have brought us into this wilderness to kill us," they gripe.
Can you believe that God loves even gripers, those people who complain all the time? God himself, who has been leading this bunch of grumbling souls in a pillar of cloud, day by day, appears and tells them through Moses that he will fill their emptiness. Why? Because he wants even gripers to know that he is the Lord of their lives (v. 12).
In the evening, God literally covers the tent camp with quail, so that the people have lots of meat. And in the morning, there is dew that leaves behind a fine, flake--like substance that can be made into bread. The Israelites don't know what the latter is. "Man hu'?" they ask. "What is it?" And from those Hebrew words we get our word "manna."
Some interpreters have maintained that the gift of the quail and manna were natural occurrences, brought about by a wind blowing in the quail, and a type of plant excreting a juice that formed a yellowish--white flake or ball. And so they ignore the God--given grace involved, which the event reveals to us.
God loves even that complaining, griping, never--satisfied bunch of wandering ex--slaves, and provides them the means of life in abundance. It can give us the assurance that the Lord can love even us. And yes, perhaps it can turn all of our complaining into grateful thanks for God's daily love and provisions.
Consequently, after Bathsheba has gone through the required period of mourning for her husband, perhaps seven days, perhaps three weeks, David sends for her and brings her to his house and makes her his wife. Significantly, however, Bathsheba is never called by her name in these verses. She is "the wife of Uriah" (v. 26), and she remains so, even in David's bed.
Verse 27 ends with the most significant words in the whole story. "The thing that David had done displeased the Lord." The story has all seemed so secular up to this point, so human with its intrigue and lust and power--plays. But no action on this earth is beyond the pleasure or displeasure of God, and while David and Joab are untroubled, God is not. David has thought himself autonomous, you see, able to run his own affairs as he wishes, just as so many in our time think that they are autonomous, self--governing, independent individuals. That is an illusory autonomy, however, for every person is made in the image of God, and is responsible to him in that unbreakable relationship, a relationship that is made even more inseparable by David's covenant responsibilities to the Lord.
So the prophet Nathan appears on the scene, bearing the Word of the Lord. Reinhold Niebuhr once remarked of Nathan's parable, "That's real preaching!" By his indignation over the uncaring greed of the rich man, who stole the poor man's little lamb, David indicts himself. He decrees death for the scoundrel, whereupon Nathan whirls on him and declares, "You are the man!"
"Thus says the Lord," Nathan proclaims twice (vv. 7, 11). God has done everything for David - anointing, delivering, giving, (vv. 7, 8); the verbs emphasize God's overflowing gracious action. But David has despised, smitten, taken, slain (vv. 9, 10), in his false sense of power and autonomy. "Therefore" (v. 10) God will reply with his actions! The davidic dynasty will never know peace, even within David's household. His punishment will be worked out not only in the battles that Israel will continually have to fight until she falls to the Babylonians. But David's sin will also return upon his own head in his relationships with his sons, just one of which is mentioned in our text. The reference to taking David's wives "in the sight of this sun" (v. 11) refers to his son Absalom's revolt against his father, during which Absalom lies with David's concubines upon a roof "in the sight of this sun." For all of our supposed independence and freedom to go our own way, there is a moral coherence that God establishes within our history and that he upholds in his lordship.
Upon hearing the Word of the Lord, David has enough ethical decency left in him to acknowledge his sin against the Lord (v. 13). Every sinful act against others is a sin against God. And God is merciful. As a result, the sentence of death, which David himself has pronounced (v. 5) is removed. David will live (v. 13). But he will live with the consequences of his actions for himself, for his child in Bathsheba's womb (v. 14), and finally for his people. Confession and repentance of our sinfulness do not often bring with them freedom from the effects of our wrongdoing. The murderer on death row who "finds Jesus" and repents nevertheless leaves behind him one he has killed. But acknowledgment of our sin and sincere repentance do prevent our relationship with a merciful God from being broken permanently. David can still pray and find God with him, and in that mercy there is undeserved grace and hope.
Lutheran Option: Exodus 16:2--4, 9--15
The people of Israel have been delivered from their house of bondage in Egypt by God, an event that took place about 1279 B.C., when Rameses II began his reign as the Pharaoh of Egypt. Now the people are journeying through the wilderness toward the promised destination of a land to call their own. They have recently left the oasis of Elim, with its water and palm trees in abundance, but now they face the problem of finding more food, although they are really not in desperate want. It's just that they aren't free to stuff themselves any more. They could eat to the full in Egypt. Now they're slimming down and a bit hungry, and so they complain against Moses and Aaron. "You have brought us into this wilderness to kill us," they gripe.
Can you believe that God loves even gripers, those people who complain all the time? God himself, who has been leading this bunch of grumbling souls in a pillar of cloud, day by day, appears and tells them through Moses that he will fill their emptiness. Why? Because he wants even gripers to know that he is the Lord of their lives (v. 12).
In the evening, God literally covers the tent camp with quail, so that the people have lots of meat. And in the morning, there is dew that leaves behind a fine, flake--like substance that can be made into bread. The Israelites don't know what the latter is. "Man hu'?" they ask. "What is it?" And from those Hebrew words we get our word "manna."
Some interpreters have maintained that the gift of the quail and manna were natural occurrences, brought about by a wind blowing in the quail, and a type of plant excreting a juice that formed a yellowish--white flake or ball. And so they ignore the God--given grace involved, which the event reveals to us.
God loves even that complaining, griping, never--satisfied bunch of wandering ex--slaves, and provides them the means of life in abundance. It can give us the assurance that the Lord can love even us. And yes, perhaps it can turn all of our complaining into grateful thanks for God's daily love and provisions.
