Samuel and Kings
Since Common Time of Year B begins with a focus on King David, I want to discuss that story in the context of the Deuteronomic History in which we find it.
Of all the characters portrayed in Scripture, it is hard to find one more complex than King David is. Although David is the great hero who rose to power from humble beginnings, replacing his flawed predecessor Saul and salvaging the fledgling institution of the monarchy from its ignominious beginning, Scripture never attempts to canonize David or disguise his flaws. It does not excuse his mistakes or condemn him for them. It simply lets the story of David's life unfold - his loyalty to Saul, his deep and abiding friendship with Jonathan, his tumultuous marriage to Michal, his victories on the battlefield and his failures at home.
The text calls David the servant of the Lord throughout, suggesting that the stance of David in his life was submission to the Lord. David is successful in battle. However, the text does not view him as successful in his family life.
David's greatest failures are often the result of inaction. He does nothing when his son Amnon rapes his daughter Tamar. Nor does he condemn Absalom for murdering Amnon in revenge (2 Samuel 13). The story of his relationship with Bathsheba also begins with a reference to inaction on David's part. Although it is the "time when kings go out to battle," David remains in Jerusalem while his nephew Joab (1 Chronicles 2:16) goes across the Jordan to lead the siege of Rabbah. Throughout the story, David's activities with Bathsheba are juxtaposed with Joab and Uriah's activities on the battlefield. They are fighting during this "time of going out [to battle]" while he is getting his first view of Bathsheba "late one afternoon."
The story of the rise of kingship might derive from the period of Solomon, designed to make it clear that both David and Solomon had a legitimate claim to the throne. Abiathar the priest, as he was in David's court, may have compiled the material germane to Saul and David.
As modern readers, we need to exercise care in interpreting the politics of this portion of the Bible. The weaving of political life with religious life was part of ancient culture. The cynic would argue that gaining and holding office has little to do with ideological vision or political program. Rather, one can simplify political decisions to the simple desire to gain and hold political power. Intrinsically worthy ends turn into disposable means in the service of power. Thus, one could think of Saul and David as shrewd Machiavellians who achieve power and are corrupted by it, willing to employ any means necessary to retain that power when it is threatened, including violence and the unscrupulous abuse of religion. The Lord becomes passive in observing human kings replacing the divine king. The issue raised is whether anyone could be interested in political power to advance the common good of the nation. The cynic would argue that any common good is collateral to the maintenance of sovereign power. Political order does not advance public virtue. Such a view is a dark approach to the act of political involvement. Such a view would make illegitimate any theological reading of the text. Such a view is close to suggesting that one who engages in political action has made a pact with satanic powers.[1]
Such a dismal view of the nature of politics cannot coexist alongside serious religious convictions, requiring the complete separation of the religious person for the political sphere. Such a view of ancient Israel would be difficult to put along aside the divine promise to the House of David, as it seeks to integrate the claims of religious and public life. Thus, the political organization of every community is for some common good and the political elements in that community possess authority because it is established to achieve that higher good.[2] Succumbing to pessimism would be a denial of this possibility. Political life contains the tendency toward the common good. Focusing upon one to the exclusion to the other avoids the ambiguity contained in human life.
The Lord acceded to Israel’s request for a king and practically abdicated the role of being the true king of Israel. This divine bitterness is a key to understanding the negative attitude of the Book of Samuel toward human political projects. The text portrays both Saul and David as political figures, ready to do anything in the pursuit of power. Their moral or religious trespasses have much to do with the inherent nature of politics itself. Since sovereign power easily turns into something that is desired for its own sake, those who have successfully attained it become pathologically obsessive about holding on to power. The way of political violence is inevitable. The insane paranoia exemplified in the episode of Saul’s slaughter of the priests at Nob, and the calculation dramatized in David’s murder of Uriah through a chain of agency are examples of the inevitable abuse of political power. Although being the locus of absolute power, the lengthy chain of agency that kings command serves as a convenient mechanism to confer deniability and impunity, as a chain of surrogates help the kings to dissociate themselves from the crimes committed on their behalf. The capacity of David to control events by “sending” others to do his bidding is an example of how political violence captures others in orbit. The story of Tamar and the rebellion of Absalom show the difficulties inherent in the dynamics of dynastic monarchy. It should ease the transition of power from one generation to the next. David only at great cost maintains sovereignty until he could bequeath power to Solomon. The final words of David to Solomon show the ambiguity of political action, underscored by the order of David to kill Shimei, to whom he promised amnesty. The ambiguity of political action stems from the impossibility of knowing the motivation of the one who holds political power. The possibility that motivation is a mixture of self-serving drive for power and highly moral commitment develops the impression in the text that David was a master of walking the line between morality and manipulation of events for his purposes.[3]
The fact that Israel experienced sacral kingship is due to David. He united charismatic and institutional conceptions of religion. His actions reveal a breadth of feeling and thought with a capacity for working otherwise incompatible elements together. He worked with priests, he brought the Ark to Jerusalem, he appointed his sons to the priesthood, and wanted to build a Temple. He consolidated the tribes by making covenants with the elders. He incorporated conquered neighboring states. He made a clever choice of capital. He organized a standing army. He developed his own attendants at court. He managed to keep prophets on his side. The reign of David demonstrated the possibility of the office of king within the framework of the religion of the people of the Lord. In the end, the monarchy would alter their conception of the manner and purpose of divine activity, especially as an ordered activity within history. The normal administration and institution of justice and defense of the land came under divine providence. It would lead to a new view of the development of the forms of religious life, where one could enquire of the Lord through established ordinances of religious practice. Institutional religion would make great strides.
The early monarchical period was an era of vitality and productivity, when there was an intellectual creative upsurge that opened the way to completely new dimensions of life. It must also have been a time when the “soil” within Israel was ready for this “new spirit.” The scholars of the period created three narratives, the story of the rise of David to power, the history of the succession of David, and the J document. What was new was that Israel now found itself able to shape history into great complexes. It no longer simply remembered isolated events basic to the history or strung them together for purposes of recital in worship. It now presented the history in its broad connections. The most important prerequisite for this new way of seeing and presenting history was a certain detachment from it, mentally, if not just chronologically. It made itself the object of consideration. This ability to deal with extensive complexes of connected history and not just episodes is one of the most momentous advances in humanity understanding itself, since its effects upon the spiritual development of the West is large. The context of this development at this early stage of monarchy was to justify the rise of monarchy, and particularly the rise of David. This justification occurs within a larger justification of the rise of monarchy and the judgment of the Lord upon Israel that came upon it through exile. In agreement with Eichrodt, Israel no longer saw the Lord as active primarily in miracles or dramatic events, but now in the field of daily lives. This new way of portraying the action of the Lord in history led to a new technique in narrative. It did not arise by chance. It was an expression of a profound spiritual transformation. It led to re-thinking the relationship of the people of the Lord with nature and history. It became secularized, releasing both from “sacral orders.” One could now see the figures of these stories in a demythologized and secular world. The action of the Lord embraces every department of life, the secular as well as sacred. In fact, the authors display eagerness to discover the action of the Lord in the secular world. The Lord is the cause of all things. Further, the exercise of the Lords’ action is chiefly in the sphere of the human heart. As a result, the scholars started putting individuals at the center of the history of the Lord’s dealing with Israel. It began exploring what we can now identify as psychology. It identifies friendship (David and Jonathan), the motivations of Saul, and the flow of David toward adultery. It also embellished the narrative by means of speeches. We can see in all of this a new appreciation of the human, developed fully in the time of Solomon, is a form of humanism. [4]
We also need to discuss the anointed of Israel, the king. The narrative regarding David shows the anointed in all the frailty of his human nature, and on occasion portray him in scandalous situations. Therefore, Israel was in no danger of copying the surrounding nations in their view of the king as an incarnation of the deity, as was done in Egypt. They demythologized the king. David becomes king through human initiative. Only later does Nathan offer divine confirmation through a covenant with David and his descendants. The tension in this history as shown in I and II Samuel and the early chapters of I Kings is that of succession to the throne, just as earlier, in Genesis, the issue was an heir within the clan, and in judges the issue was who shall be the “judge” to lead the tribal federation. What chiefly intrigues the theologian who reads this history is the thoroughgoing worldliness of the picture. It develops characters that have a history. In the center of it all stands David, a man with strong inner antagonisms. He is a diplomat with far-sighted genius, but also driven by many passions. He was also capable of generous impulses and had dignity in misfortune. He was attached to his sons to the extent of weakness and guilt, bringing his throne to the brink of ruin. Throughout the story of David, they are not “religious characters.” The author allows the thoughtful reader to see the full range of love and hate, intrigue, ambition, humiliations, cunning, and tests of loyalty. The freedom that this historian reserved to himself in his treatment of the king is something unique in the ancient East. Yet, nobility pervades the entire work. The story is one of human beings fulfilling their destinies. The older narratives thought of the action of the Lord in the form of miracles and in the charisma of a leader, in catastrophes, or other significant manifestations of divine power. The story has changed so that divine action is in the sphere of secular history, in which divine activity is behind the scenes. [5]
David is the first human in literature. Further, he is the first true individual, the first “modern” human. His nature and individuality drive his behavior at every crucial juncture in the story. He is one who shapes the way he acts in the world. The gradual disclosure of the complexity of motivation and ambiguity of action we find in David can strike us as somehow modern. Yet, the story also claims that God has something important to do with the uniqueness of David, his shaping and being shaped. Much of the depth and complexity of David has to do with the tension between wills both divine and human. The story is subject to the mysterious underpinnings of motivations at war with themselves, of aspects of personality and competencies in conflict with each other, with the complexity of choicemaking compounded by forces curtailing or directing such choices. Time is open ended, a corollary of a capacity for moral growth for both God and human being, a capacity to change directions in a drastic way for the sake of a greater good. [6]
Who is David? Nabal asks this question in I Samuel 25:2. Saul wonders in I Samuel 17:55, “Whose son is this man?” In I Samuel 17:58, Saul asks David directly, “Whose son are you, young man?” Even David asks in II Samuel 7:18, “Who am I, O Lord God that you have brought me this far?” David appears contradictory in action and so hidden in motive. How can he serve as the ideal monarch of Israel? David moved the heart of God. Coming to know David may help explain God at some level. God will choose Saul, and then unchoose him in favor of a better man, who chooses well and poorly, but emerges as superior to Saul. We are learning about the character of both David and God.
Psalm 20 (Year B May 29-June 4, June 5-11) is a royal psalm. The psalm was part of the feast celebrated at the New Year’s Day and the enthronement of the king. However, one can interpret it as a prayer for victory before going into battle. There is a sense in this psalm that the Israelites are celebrating victory before the battle has been enjoined. This is the confidence one has when God is your God. The God of Jacob may refer to his cleverness and artfully dodging his opponents. It refers to the sanctuary in Jerusalem and the support the Lord sends from Zion. The king offered burnt offerings before going into battle, as in I Sam 7:9-10. The prayer regards the fulfillment of the desire of the heart and the plans of the king, which the poet assumes are important to the Lord. The poet expresses the desire of the people that they as a congregation will be joyful with the return victory of the king. The Lord will help the anointed one, the king, and answer the petitions of the king from heaven. Famously, the poet affirms the strength of the divine presence over military might. The people affirm their own faithfulness and bond with God. The greater military might of other nations was cause for alarm, but the people seek God’s decision as final. Those doomed to failure are those who boast in armaments while not trusting in God. God revealed this decision in the saving history, as in the story of Gideon and Goliath. Defensive schemes and tools aside, the Lord is the one who gives victory and merits trust from the people. It concludes with a prayer of intercession for the victory of the king, being the origin of the phrase, “God save the king.”
I Samuel 16:1-13 (May 29-June 4, June 12-18) connects with Psalm 20 through its story of the anointing by Samuel of the boy David as king. This story is transitional in the canonical text in that it prepares the way for the story of the decline of Saul and rise of David that we find in I Samuel 16:14-II Samuel 1:27. It arises from prophetic circles. It arose as part of the legends around David in the time of Judah.[7] The main point is that David did not get to be king by ambition or his own action, but by divine appointment. A secondary point is that the Lord did not give the expected choice but chose the unexpected. In the Lord asking Samuel asking how long Samuel will grieve over Saul, in whom Samuel has reluctantly put so much energy and time to guide and now the Lord has rejected him, the question suggesting the grief is immoderate. It was time to stop, move past what is beloved, and begin mobilization. God had chosen Saul. The events of Chapters 13, 14, and 15 are the reasons why God has rejected Saul. This passage says that God will not so easily reject the next royal house. Jesse was of the house of Perez and grandson of Boaz and Ruth, for which see Ruth 4:17-22 and 1 Chronicles 2:3-12. Samuel is fearful of his safety, which contrasts with his bold confrontation of the king in the previous chapter. The deceit to protect Samuel involves his pretending to fulfill a ritual obligation. Anointing rather than crowning the king was typical of the period. The people need assurance that Samuel has come peaceably, which may suggest an unexpressed tension or the fearsome reputation of Samuel. The selection of the youngest of the sons to receive the anointing from Samuel is a familiar theme of the younger receiving divine favor over the elder brothers. While all the sons of Jesse have the physical signs of divine favor, the Lord knows the heart. The beauty of kings (as well as queens) was commonplace in the ancient world, of course, but the text before us is at pains to repudiate such mundane and unreliable characteristics of a ruler’s true merit. What seems more likely than the biblical writer’s unreflectively adopting a royal cliché is a foreshadowing of the troubles ahead for David and his various interpersonal relationships, especially those (such as with the wife of Uriah the Hittite, Bathsheba, II Samuel 11; and Saul’s son, Jonathan, I Samuel 18) predicated upon his personal charisma. David’s physical and emotional attractiveness would work to his life’s woe as well as its weal. The text shows the importance of prophetic anointing and divine election. The emphasis is on the divine freedom to choose the next king. As unlikely candidates for kingship, both David and Saul represent Israel’s own self-perception as an underdog nation. It is no strength or worthiness of their own that r’sults in God's favor. It is only because the Lord saw into the hearts of Israel's founders that the Lord found them worthy. In this, we can see that God’s choice of David and Saul, flawed as they both were, mirrors God’s choice of Israel, and God’s choice of us all. Prophetic anointing replaces the pattern in the Judges period of popular acclamation. Now the free divine election of a shepherd boy from Judah replaces the popular election of the handsome, from a wealthy nobleman’s family. This text is an important example of the thought that the election traditions of Israel always connect with an historical act on the part of the Lord that forms the starting point and basis of salvation history with the people of the Lord. Related to this concept are statements about the election of individuals, especially King David. The point is that the election of individuals has a close attachment to the social relation on behalf of the people. [8] The Spirit of the Lord coming mightily upon David from that day forward says that the breath of life given to all of us at creation becomes a special endowment with the Spirit of God. Yet, this does not mean a special and momentary ecstatic experience, but of forms of lasting endowment with the Spirit of God. From the moment of his anointing, the nature of David’s kingship is radically different from Saul’s kingship. This abiding Spirit makes possible the Davidic covenant theology that establishes David’s house forever. [9]The notion of this divine presence that accompanied David for the rest of his life was the theological construal later generations, around 750-721 BC. It explained his phenomenal success in establishing a monarchy that lasted half a millennium. He was both a witness and the one who enabled the transformation of Israel from an insignificant tribal confederation to one of the most important presences of the area. This is in stark contrast to the following passage in which the text says that an evil spirit had come upon Saul (16:14).
Psalm 138 (Year B June 5-11) is a psalm of thanksgiving and praise, quite likely from the period of King Solomon or shortly after, due to the reference to the Temple. Its exuberance has a wide reach, singing praise before the gods, which may refer to the heavenly court or the gods of the nations, which clearly subordinates to the Lord. He will also sing in praise of the ways of the Lord before the kings of the earth. The king offer thanks with the whole heart. influenced by Deuteronomistic and/or prophetic theology, there is also an emphasis on honoring (including seeking, loving and obeying) God with the whole heart: Deuteronomy 4:29; 6:5-6; 10:12-13; 30:2, 6, 10; Joshua 22:5; Proverbs 3:5-6; Jeremiah 29:11-14; Joel 2:12; Zephaniah 3:14; Luke 10:27. To what extent is our own love for, obedience to, thanksgiving and praise to God from our whole heart?
He sings his praise before the gods (oweve). God has appeared in worship. If the reference is to gods, it suggests a henotheistic faith, in that while Yahweh is God of Israel exclusively, other nations may have other gods. Such a notion moves against the assumption of many of us that the Old Testament represents a unified picture of a monotheistic faith that denies the existence of the gods. Yet, the historical situations in the Old Testament suggest a complex picture. Exodus 20:3, in commanding the Israelites to have no other gods before Yahweh, suggests other gods exist, but Israel is to have Yahweh. Psalmists could affirm that there is no one like Yahweh among the gods (86:8). The Lord is a great God and King above all gods (95:3). The Lord is to receive praise above all gods (96:4). All gods shall bow before Yahweh, putting their worshippers to shame (97:7). Such a notion reminds us that Israel slowly came to a monotheistic faith only in the time of Hezekiah and Josiah. Joshua 24 suggests that early Israelites worshiped many gods and goddesses, either bringing them with them into the Promised Land or adopted them as such once they arrived. Some Israelites tried to have an eclectic form of religion in which they combined worship of Yahweh with other gods (I Kings 11:33). Prophet after prophet thundered against people with idolatrous beliefs and practices (comparing such unfaithful worship and practices to adultery) because many people were not faithful to the Lord God of Israel alone. Elijah urged the people to decide instead of limping through their lives holding two different opinions. He urges them to follow Yahweh or Baal (I Kings 18:21). II Isaiah was the prophet who most vigorously called Israel to a strict monotheistic, non-idolatrous faith and way of living. There is no other god beside Yahweh, so they are to turn to Yahweh, who is righteous and the Savior. If they turn to Yahweh, they will receive salvation. Yahweh is God, and there is no other (Isaiah 45:21-22). A psalmist ponders why the nations ask where the God of Israel is. God is in the heavens and does whatever what God pleases. In contrast, their idols are the work of human hands, with mouths that do not speak, eyes that do not see, ears that do not hear, noses that do not smell, hands that do not feel, and feet that do not walk. Those who trust in gods like these become like them. The psalmist then urges Israel to trust in the Lord, who is their help and shield (Psalm 115:2-9). Of course, Jesus affirmed the basic creed of Israel, the Shema, which stated that the Lord is one, and beside the Lord is no other (Deuteronomy 6:4 and Mark 12:28-34). The Bible arose over several periods of Israelite and Jewish biblical and theological history. Paul wrestles with these matters as well. He is clear in his monotheism, affirming that no idol truly exits and there is no God but one. Yet, he also affirms many gods and lords claim the allegiance of their worshippers, while for us, we worship one God revealed in Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 8:4-6). To return to our passage, then, we also need to remember that oweve could also refer to divine beings, the heavenly assembly, divine council, or even angels. The Tanakh translates the word as divine beings. New English Translation has “heavenly assembly”; the LXX Greek has ἀγγέλων (“angels”), and the Latin Vulgate has angelorum (“angels”). In Psalm 8:5 ’elohim is translated variously as “God” (NRSV), “the angels” (KJV) or “the heavenly beings” (NIV and NET). Thus, one could understand oweve as referring the divine council, comprised of Yahweh and other heavenly beings around the throne of Yahweh. Isaiah 6:1-13 suggests the Lord invites the prophet to the divine counsel for him to receive his vision, calling, and mission. Psalmists could suggest encouraging heavenly beings to ascribe glory and strength to Yahweh (29:1). God assumes the throne among the heavenly beings, which we could also understand to be gods (82:1). None of the heavenly beings compares to Yahweh, whom the heavenly beings fear (89:5-8). I repeat the observation that the Israelite and Jewish views of Yahweh, viewed in the context of its biblical and theological history, are more complex than we sometimes realize.
The psalmist continues with the theme of giving thanks and give thanks to your name, which in Deuteronomistic theology the name of the Lord resides in the Temple. He gives thanks for the steadfast love (hesed) and faithfulness (‘emet) of the Lord, which focuses upon the identity and consistency of the Lord in divine love turning toward those whom the Lord has made. The Lord has exalted the name and word of the Lord above everything. Imagine his relief that on the day he called, the Lord answered and strengthened his soul. He then turns with hope that all the kings of the earth shall offer their praise to the Lord. Such a hope becomes a reality through the faithful witness of the people of the Lord throughout the earth. The Israelite king plans to publish abroad what the Lord has said. Even Paul had the confidence that faith comes from what one hears (Romans 10:17). He then offers a brief reflection divine providence. The exalted Lord regards the lowly, a reversal reminiscent of the Song of Hannah (I Samuel 2:1-10) and the Magnificat of Mary (Luke 1:46-55). The Lord attends to the needs of the humble and pulls down the proud from miles away. The occasion of this psalm is the confidence the poet has in the purpose of the Lord. Though he walks amid trouble, the Lord preserves him against the wrath of the enemy. He asks for the hand of the Lord to deliver him and concludes with the prayer that the Lord not abandon the work of the hands of the Lord. The hands of the Lord have fashioned him as well as delivered him. The Lord will bring the redemptive work of God to completion. The psalmist shares the confidence of the prophet that the word of the Lord shall accomplish the purpose the Lord intended and succeed in the matter of which the Lord sent it (Isaiah 55:10-11). This psalmist shares the confidence of Paul, who could remind his readers that the one who began a good work among them will bring that work to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6).
I Samuel 8:4-20, 11:14-15 (Year B June 5-11) is an account of the rise of sacral kingship in Israel, arising out of the failure of the charismatic leadership of the tribal federation and the companion failure of the hereditary priesthood. This important passage represents a transition from the Tribal Federation and into the period of kingship. The Tribal Federation ideal was that Yahweh was king. The apparent failure of the Tribal federation resulted from the military strength of the Philistines, requiring an on-going military presence represented by the king. The people no longer view the Tribal Federation system as sufficient to care for new challenges. Of course, the desire to be like other nations is precisely the opposite of the vision of the Mosaic covenant, in which they are to be different or distinctive from among the nations. We could ponder why the people of God should be so different from the culture. However, part of the point of a passage like this is to challenge our thinking about the relationship between the people of God and the political, economic, and value structure of the world. The people of God are not to be fully at home in this setting or in this moment.
The request of the Israelite elders for a king is preceded by an extended account of Israel’s decline during the closing years of the period of the judges (1200 – 1000 B.C.). That account (Judges 19-21) includes the story of the internecine warfare that nearly obliterated the tribe of Benjamin, concluding with the grim verdict of Judges 21:25, “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” That summary judgment echoes Judges 17:6 and similar statements about the lack of leadership being the result of Israel having no king (e.g., Judges 18:1; 19:1). The negative assessment of the decentralized institution of judgeship will merge into an equally critical view of the decentralized priesthood in I Samuel 2:12-26 and 8:1-3, the notices of the corrupt sons of Eli and Samuel. The parallel with the sons of Eli shows the lesson that godly authority is not something one can pass down from father to son. The danger of hereditary succession finds embodiment in the priest Eli and in the judge and prophet Samuel. The fact that the sons of Samuel are not qualified to continue his leadership is anticipation of the general failure of kingship, which normally passes political power through heredity. Much of the Old Testament has its inspiration out of failure. In this case, the failure is the form of leadership that arose with Moses and continued during th” tribal federation period. It persisted for a long time, demonstrating its general success. However, history has moved on toward stronger neighbors that will call forth a new response from these tribes. They will need stronger organization than needed before. The rise of Saul and David will be the beginning of sacral kingship, an important period of the history of Israel.
During the tribal federation period, a brand of charismatic leadership was in tension with a position like that of king and court. This move from the sporadic outbursts of power in both religion and politics and toward settled political and religious institutions appear as a lack of trust in Yahweh. As a matter of experience, the monarchy strove to make itself hereditary, and to secure an inalienable authority quite independent of the qualities of the person filling it. Was it right to hand over to such an office the ascendancy over the free working of the spirit? The more people saw Yahweh working in the form of unexpected interventions as events unfolded, of explosive acts of power shattering in their force, the less they were inclined to acknowledge as the principal champion of the Yahweh religion a man who held office quite owevert reference to these divine operations. In these circumstances, the old conflict between enthusiasm and official status was bound to break out. They feared the abuse of royal power. Part of this fear was the prospect of the despotic use of national resources. Behind this, those who had hitherto been the nation’s religious leaders saw another danger. One might use religion as a means to an end, as just one more horse harnessed to the chariot of dynastic and nationalist designs. The purity of the religious motto, Yahweh alone, seemed imperiled by the monarchy.[10]
In the past, Moses and Joshua had performed the role of mediator between God and people. The king will step into that representative role as head of the people. True, the people demand a king to be like other nations. However, Samuel and the prophets after him are quite clear that the king rules legitimately only if he rules under the covenant that Yahweh had established with this people. The Passover, the Shechemite Covenant, the Ten Commandments, and the Book of the Book of the Covenant were already firmly part of that covenant. Both the Deuteronomic History and the massive J document will focus our attention on the ways in which Israel broke its covenant with Yahweh. This recognition helps us to see the theological orientation of their respective works.
The Deuteronomist is addressing his readers in verses 6-20, as we can see the tension within the tradition regarding the merit of monarchy. The kingship of the Lord is affirmed in Exodus 15:18, where the Lord will reign forever, and Judges 8:23, where Gideon says the Lord shall rule over the people, this kingship presumed to conflict with human kingship. Their desire for a king turns from the kingship of the Lord and turns from the institutions of the tribal federation of the priesthood, now represented by Samuel, and the charismatic leadership of the judges. Samuel does what is against his own self-interest, demonstrating his faithfulness to the Lord and accepting the responsibility of his office. The Deuteronomist now offers the most extensive criticism of monarchy in the Old Testament. The point is the reality of the ancient Near East, intending to deter the people from desiring to have a king like other nations. The king will load a heavy burden upon all individuals, unlike the Tribal Federation that rarely interfered with personal life. They will lose the freedoms they now enjoy. Samuel is warning the Israelites that by requesting a king, they will be exchanging having been Pharaoh’s slaves for self-imposed slavery under their own ruler. Samuel lists what the Israelites will sacrifice to have a king with no mention of kingship’s benefits (which included, among other accomplishments, the creation of a court culture that highly likely produced the Yahwistic and Elohistic strands of the Pentateuch, the earliest layers of the Jewish and Christian Bibles). When people lose their way and do not know what they really want, two common behavioral reations are conformity and submission to totalitarianism.[11] The people want a king to rule the country in peace and lead the army in war. The opinion of the Deuteronomist, writing from the perspective of centuries of experience, is that just as Adam and Eve wanted to be like gods, so Israel wants to be like other nations. They exceed their divinely appointed boundaries; they are not supposed to be like other nations! The Deuteronomist thinks the establishment of human monarchy by the people of Israel was an offense against the sole lordship of God over the people, referring to 8:7.[12] Chapters 7 & 8 will provide the case for the theocratic ideal of the kingship of the Lord. The point is that theologically, kingship is rebellion, but it was also an historical reality. I Sam 11:14-15 renews the commitment to Saul as their king, unaware of the dangers and temptations to which monarchy would succumb over the centuries.[13] It concludes with rejoicing and celebration with offerings of well-being before the Lord, which will become typical of the royal inauguration ceremony.
I Samuel 15:34-16:13 (Year B June 12-18, 16:1-13 May 29-June4). In 14:34-35, we learn that Saul and Samuel separate, with Samuel in grief or distress. It shows a surprisingly emotional side of the aged prophet and judge that contrasts sharply with his grim ritual dismemberment of the Amalekite king Agag just verses before (15:33). The ambiguity over the cause of this grief is deliberate. However, the Lord is also sorry or in sorrow in making Saul king, making it likely that the grief of Samuel unites with the sorrow of the Lord.
Psalm 9:9-20 (Year B June 19-25) is part of an acrostic lament contained in Ps 9-10, treated as one psalm in the LXX. The psalmist details the nature of the adversary. The psalmist considers himself among the oppressed, poor, needy, meek, and godly. The context is worship in the temple, at which the psalmist can bring his concerns. The mention of the nations suggests the Yahweh covenant festival provides the immediate background of this psalm. The righteous are oppressed, but the Lord reigns in Zion, enthroned in the Temple. Declaring the deeds of the Lord among the peoples expresses a desire that the nations will glorify the Lord. The poet wants the Lord to be gracious, for those who hate him cause him to suffer. The Lord saves him from severe illness or danger, so that he can recount his praises at the gates of daughter Zion. The poet stresses that evil seen here as expressed in the plans of nations, carries within itself the seeds of its own destruction. These wicked people, who have forgotten God, shall experience an early death. He wants the Lord to arise immediately as warrior, assuring that the nations shall receive judgment, letting them know they are only human, a strikingly dark conception of humanity.
I Samuel 17:1a, 4-11, 19-23, 32-49, portions from the story of David and Goliath, pairs well with the psalm as Israel struggles against one nation, the Philistines.
The story of David the shepherd boy and Goliath the Giant (I Samuel 17) is a powerful one. In a crisis, events can move in rapid succession, calling upon us to decide. We may want to withdraw from the world, but in a crisis, that option is not available. A crisis forces a decision. The decision might not be perfect, it may be right or wrong, but inaction I not an option. If two goliaths meet, they will confront each other strength on strength. An example would be World War I and II. The battle will be bloody. However, if you are sizing up a situation and recognize a battle is coming, are you David or Goliath? The story points to the importance of assessing your situation. It demonstrates the triumph of faith over physical strength, with the description of the armor of Goliath, the rejection of the armor Saul provided David, and the speech of David (verses 45-47) underscoring this idea. It shows courage to face a fight that it looks like one should lose. It shows confidence in the Lord when external circumstances do not do much to encourage that confidence. It shows humility that regardless of the outcome, the glory belongs to the Lord. It also shows, however, that if you are David facing Goliath, you will need to adopt a strategy that takes advantage of the weakness contained in the strength of Goliath and the strength contained in the smallness of David. If you are David facing your Goliath, you will need to see that what is the strength of the giant is his weakness. What might look like weakness in you is your strength. You will need to have enough sense not to meet Goliath on his terms. You will need to adopt a strategy that makes strength out of your smallness and weakness.
Theowevler and weaker prevails against the larger and stronger; the isolated individual turns the tide of war for an entire people; with God’s help, a simple shepherd boy triumphs against insurmountable odds. The bold outlines of the story mark it as a classic tale of the power of the single unremarkable individual to alter the course of history. This is a story of David’s courage, cunning, and faith. Courage is the most important of the ancient virtues. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue consistently. Facing the Goliaths in our lives means we are facing hardship. It means we face calamity. In facing such challenges in our lives, we are developing courage. As is often the case, the human characteristics we admire most grow out of the soil that has a strong mixture of troubles.
David’s combat with Goliath is a metaphor for Israel’s relationship with the world. Beneath this story, Israel can see itself. Israel is small, weak, and insignificant on the world stage of history. Surrounded by giant empires on all sides, tiny Israel had the least sophistication in military arms. They had no natural borders or defenses. It had a simple tribal history, rather than the imperial history of Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Syria. As a people they were a nation of shepherds surrounded by armed giants. What chance did it have? This story reminds Israel that it can still have rich blessings because of the Lord who has chosen them. One could boil down the message of the entire Old Testament to this one image. Israel is of no consequence whatsoever apart from the fact that their Lord is the one true God of the universe. The power of the Lord is all the greater because of the weakness of those whom Lord blesses with the right to call it down.
In terms of history, Israel was truly a juvenile nation surrounded by the wisdom of ancients. The message of the Old Testament includes the image that Israel is of no consequence whatsoever apart from the fact that their God is the one true God in the universe. God’s power is all the greater because of the weakness of those who are blessed with the right to call it down. It is precisely because David is weak, and flawed, and in this scene defenseless, that God’s great miracle of salvation shines all the brighter. In the Persian era, when the two narratives of this battle were brought together for the first time, the story gained new power, for now, Judah was a small province within the Persian Empire and without military forces. Whatever power the people of God would come from the Lord.
We can see ourselves here. We often have limited worldly resources, but we can still have confidence in the Lord, who gives victory to the weak. We may be weak, but we are not powerless. We need to see the power we do have and adopt a strategy that may lead to victory over Goliath. Our faith and confidence in the Lord do not absolve us of the responsibility for being an agent of history rather than its victim.
Psalm 130 (Year B June 26-July 2) is an individual lament. It is part of the collection of the Songs of Ascent. It is a plea for help, a cry for a divine hearing. It became one of the penitential psalms in the liturgy of the church. It reflects the psalmist’s awareness of the pervasive nature of human sinfulness in the face of the righteousness and justice of the Lord and the despair that such awareness can provoke. However, it is also a clear affirmation of the mercy of the Lord that overcomes human despair. The psalm is the confession of a devout person who was able to rise from the anguish caused by sin to assurance of forgiveness. The Psalm offers a succinct and powerful expression of the human predicament and the dependence of humanity upon divine grace to bring healing and wholeness. Genuine redemption includes not only freedom from guilt, but also freedom from the prison in which sin captures a human life. [14]
The poet opens with a reference to the underworld as a metaphor for being near death, referring to his condition as that of a pit, the depths, or despair. He refers to the figurative of emotional, spiritual, and psychological distress, chaotic forces that trouble human life. Such darkness surrounds us and invades our lives. Although the Lord (Adonai) is never far from any of us, a frame or snapshot of our lives may make it seems as if we are far from the divine presence. We may feel the need to shout out to the Lord when we feel distant, but when we feel divine closeness, we whisper like lovers may whisper to each other. The poet is unafraid of anthropomorphism, wanting the ears of the Lord to be attentive. If the Lord (Yah) would mark the corruption of the human heart, its iniquities that involve the act of sin, its guilt, and its penalty (‘ăwōnōwṯ), no one could remain standing, the poet recognizing the depth of the pit in which humanity resides. Isaiah 59:2 is relevant, where iniquity has put a barrier between the people and the Lord, so much so that the Lord does not look upon them. Further, if Yahweh should take note of all human iniquities, no one would have the right to remain upright before the Lord. People, by rights, should throw themselves on the mercy of the divine judge (by throwing themselves face down on the ground, exposing the back of the neck for crushing, as by the foot of a victorious warrior). The chasm between the human and the divine presented here is vast. Yet, what stimulates the feeling of reverence toward the Lord is the forgiving nature of the Lord. We must neither trivialize sin nor underestimate the love and grace of God. If you have ever been responsible for a division with a spouse, friend, or child, asked forgiveness, and the other person refuse to forgive, you know that forgiveness is truly a gift one can withhold from giving. Thus, this experience of the depths of sin makes it possible to see divine grace. God overcomes sin through forgiveness. This is what leads to repentance. His soul (נַפְשִׁ֥י, nephesh) waits for an oracle from the Lord, but does so realizing that his hope in a living word of deliverance from the Lord in the situation he now faces. He is eagerly awaiting, expecting, looking for, longing for, and hoping for, this word. His personal prayer becomes an invitation to the community to have confident anticipation or trust and place its hope in the Lord, who has steadfast love (hesed) that moves them toward redemption, ransom (יִפְדֶּ֣ה, padah). In Jeremiah 29:11, God offers “a future with hope.”[15] In the Lord’s Word, the psalmist hopes (see Psalm 119:74); thus, the Lord will do what the Lord promises about forgiveness and redeeming Israel from its iniquities (עֲוֺנֹתָֽיו, avon). Redemption arises from the experience in the ancient world of invading armies taking inhabitants of conquered land as slaves, but family members could raise money to buy back the prisoner, thereby gaining release from slavery and giving them their freedom. The term recognizes the plight of humanity due to its sin and the loyalty of the Lord toward us being such as to persist in gaining our freedom from the pit for which we have dug for ourselves, from the addition of fuel to the fire we have lit, and from pouring gasoline on the fire we have lit. The hymns of the church breathe of the spirit of this psalm. “My sin, not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,” (Horatio Spafford, It is Well with my Soul). “Be of sin the double cure; save from wrath and make me pure” (Augustus Toplady, Rock of Ages). Such themes make their way into contemporary songs.
From the moment of rescue, I have never been the same
When His love took me captive, and my sin was washed away
Now I stand here forgiven, and I know that I am saved
And I won’t be put to shame
(Sing His Praise Again (Oh My Soul)” 2019)
The God of ages stepped down from glory
To wear my sin and bear my shame
The cross has spoken, I am forgiven
The King of kings calls me His own
(Phil Wickam, Living Hope)
The challenge in this passage today is that while we recognize we are far from perfect, we think of ourselves as good people. The feeling of shame or guilt passes quickly. While the tradition of the church recognizes the breadth and depth of sin as influencing our thoughts, words, and deeds, I am not sure if many persons have that experience beyond a fleeting moment. We do not see ourselves in such a desperate situation that we cannot save ourselves. When we experience the challenge and even desperation of our situation, the temptation is always present to give up. There may well be circumstances and persons that it would take a form of faith to give up and leap into something new. Yet too often our giving up arises from our despair. In either case, the poet invites us to use that moment as a doorway to life and to therefore wait/hope. Such a personal sense of sin, the sick soul (William James, Varieties of Religious Experience,1901-2) may well mean we are facing the unreality of our self-perception to which we need to die if we are to find rebirth into true life. We may well need an honest look upon the sickness of human life and the sickness of our lives as we participate in it if we are to find new life. While self-improvement is a life-long project, we also need the insight that a power from beyond ourselves is what we need to find redemption and freedom.
II Samuel 1:1, 17-27 (Year B June 26-July 2) has a lament offered by David, expressing his sorrow over the death of Saul and Jonathan. It is a reminder that the community needs to be able to lament as well as celebrate, bringing all human life before the Lord. Hymns and songs of praise are uplifting, but we also need to give space within the community of faith that express the grief and despair that death and loss can bring. It lacks religious or national motifs, which, given that it occurs after the defeat of Israel in battle, is surprising. It does not mention God. The repetitions underscore the contrast between the courage of the leaders and their fate. The poem reaches special depth when David thinks of his friendship with Jonathan. David’s lament for Saul and Jonathan is one of the most eloquent and timeless expressions of grief in world literature. It is a loving tribute to Israel’s first monarch and crown prince, and a fitting conclusion to a relationship that was as resolutely political as it was profoundly personal. David’s lament is at once one of the most private and one of the most public utterances in the Hebrew Bible. The glory or splendor of Israel is slain, referring to at least Saul and Jonathan, but could also refer to the soldiers slain with them.’The brave solders have fallen, a refrain that unites the lament. Nations rightfully honor those who have died to protect it.[16] The soldiers have offered the tribute of their lives. It falls upon David to offer a powerful tribute in these words. In doing so, he honors those who have died. He is also gently encouraging those who hear and read these words to aspire to a certain kind of life. David will stress the nobility of their actions on behalf of the nation. It acknowledges the desire that Philistia not express its joy, a role women filled in song and dance. The parallel of the uncircumcised with Philistia is a polemical comment against them. David curses the scene of the tragedy. He recounts the military prowess of Jonathan and Saul, with typical war-song hyperbole. He uses hyperbole to express the beauty of Saul and Jonathan and their unity in life and death, glossing over the stormy relationship narrated in I Samuel. This hyperbole continues by saying they were swifter than eagles and stronger than lions. He calls upon the women of Israel to fulfill the role and participate in dirges for Saul. David expresses his personal distress over the loss of Jonathan, whose love toward him was wonderful, passing the love of women.
Our grief is not about us. The focus of genuine grief is the significance of the loss of one deeply loved. We need to ponder what the person has contributed to our lives. We need to incorporate into our lives what they have taught us. On occasion, we need to give ourselves time to reflect on the pattern our lives have been weaving. Death and loss are one of those times. Those whom we love keep leaving; keep journeying to “that land from which no traveler has ever returned.” Think of death as a limit experience beyond the limits of normal life. We spend much of our lives avoiding, dreading, and defending ourselves against it. We think that beyond the limit is emptiness and loss. Yet, if we give our“elves time to reflect, we will also find creative love and courage that know no limits.[17] We can approach the pain of loss and death with a form of realism. Such experiences are simply facts of a human life. Yes, they can be hard, difficult, and painful facts, but they are facts, nonetheless. Life is easy for no one.
At the core of human experience are the mystery of both the grandeur and the misery of self-conscious mortality. Unlike animals, humans know they will die. Yet, if we have courage, we also learn that our awareness of death gives life its juice and joy. Precisely because our lives are so painfully transient, they can also be so achingly meaningful. Our humanity consists of facing loss. Our lives will never become an easy form of contentment. If death always haunts us, there is the need for character and courage to live with what we know is ineradicable. Too much of what passes for therapy today seeks to remove the need for moral virtue to face the hardships of a human life.
Psalm 48 (Year B July 3-9) is a song of Zion, sung during a procession. It is also part of the Elohistic Psalter. The Psalm is a hymn to the glory of God. The phrase “city of our God” gives us an opportunity to discuss the past, present, and future rule of Jerusalem. Zion is the seat of the power of God and is therefore a fortress that makes kings who assault it tremble and fell. The lavish praise of Zion points toward the sure and just rule of God. Singing songs of Zion for Christians today is a way of participating in the hope for the rule of God. The concern of the poet is with a conflict between Israel and the nations where God saves Israel. It reworks certain old myths by historicizing them. It reflects an ideal rather than a real battle. It contains of a ritual, suggesting that the psalm reflects a ritualized commemoration of a divine victory. Early Israelites looked to Mount Sinai, Gerizim, and Ebal, but Mount Zion, the location of the Temple, would become the primary mountain in Israel/Judah. In referring to the holy mountain of God, its beauty in elevation, and that it is the joy of the earth, the city is becoming a metaphor for what people are to find in God. Is 2:2, says it will be the highest of mountains and nations shall stream to it. The notion of Israel as a source of universal blessing has its roots in the very earliest stratum of the concept of election. God chose Abraham to be the one through blessing will flow to all the families of the earth (Genesis 12:3). The dynastic tradition of David and the Temple viewed Jerusalem, and especially Zion, as a continuation of the promise to Abraham to bless the nations by becoming the epicenter of global blessing. The ability of Jerusalem to defend itself becomes a metaphor for the safety and defense we can find in God. The poet relates the social aspect of the lordship of God to the conquering of alien peoples in the history of Israel and especially to its experiences of its own election by God and the conquest of the land that God had given it.[18] Thus, the kings assemble, but take flight when the saw saw Mount Zion. In referring the ships of Tarshish, it refers to a faraway place in the western part of the Mediterranean. This assembly of kings could refer to Sennacherib and their sudden departure in 701 BC, but if so, it has become a poetic image to represent the saving deeds of God. God establishes the city forever, suggesting it is inviolable. However, Ezek 10-11 portrays the presence of God leaving the city, making it vulnerable. However, for this poet, the presence of God in the Temple is so palpable that it causes him to ponder the steadfast love (hesed) of God. The name or essence of God fills the earth. Since victory over the assembled kings belongs to God, Zion and Judah rejoice in the judgment of God upon the nations. The congregation is to participate in a ritual procession of walking around Mount Zion and note the strength of its presence, which reflects Neh 12, designed to leave an indelible impression upon participants.
What can we say of the city of God someday?
The Book of Revelation describes Jerusalem as a holy city, seeing an updated version of the city descending from heaven. This New Jerusalem is a vision of a post-mortal life that is everything for which John’s audience of beleaguered and suffering Christians yearned. Whereas the Christian believer in this life suffered persecution, the threat of death and all manner of distress, in the next life he or she would rejoice in the presence of God. No more tears. No more death. Moreover, one’s new existence in this holy city (located on or in an entirely new heaven and earth) would be beautiful by comparison. We find the details in Revelation 21.
What is the relevance of the city of God today? To answer this question, let us look at the psalm itself. It develops the city of God as a metaphor for God.
First, if this magnificent city, Jerusalem, is a fortress and stronghold, so is God. Do we not go through those experiences in life during which we need shelter – some place that is safe and secure? God is this refuge, and the city of God described here in Psalm 48 is a metaphor for the overwhelmingly superior nature of the stronghold that is God.
Second, God’s love is forever (verses 8-9). It does not wax and wane. It is certain and anticipated.
Third, God is to receive praise (verse 1). Yes, this is part of the relevance of this psalm. The psalmist reminds us that the magnificence of the city of God evokes praise from us.
Fourth, the city of God points to its creator, architect, and defender who will be our guide forever (verse 14). As Americans, we must be reminded of the mighty deeds and acts of our forefathers and foremothers who secured our liberty. In the same way, we must continue to remind ourselves that God, who has been our guide in the past, will be our guide in the future.
In writing about the city of God, I find it hard not to think of Augustine at this point.
The sack of Rome by the Visigoths in 410 left Romans in a deep state of shock, and many Romans saw it as punishment for abandoning traditional Roman religion for Christianity. In response to these accusations, and to console Christians, Augustine wrote The City of God, arguing for the truth of Christianity over competing religions and philosophies and that Christianity was not responsible for the sack of Rome, but instead was responsible for its success. He attempted to console Christians, writing that even if enemies imperiled the earthly rule of the empire, the city of God would triumph. Augustine fixed his eyes firmly on heaven, a theme of many Christian works of late antiquity, and despite Christianity’s designation as the official religion of the empire, Augustine declared its message to be spiritual rather than political. Christianity, he argued, should concern itself with the mystical, heavenly city, the New Jerusalem, rather than with earthly politics.
The book presents human history as a conflict between what Augustine calls the earthly city and the city of God, a conflict that in which God has determined victory for the latter. The mark of the city of God is people who forgo earthly pleasure to dedicate themselves to the eternal truths of God, now revealed fully in the Christian faith. The earthly city, on the other hand, consists of people who have immersed themselves in the cares and pleasures of the present, passing world.
II Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 (Year B July 3-9) connects closely with Ps 48 in that it is an account of David, the anointed king, taking Jerusalem as his possession, making it, for the first time, part of the Israelite conquest of the land. It becomes a stronghold called the City of David, for his private army defeated the Jebusites, who had been in control of the city. In this way, the city did not belong to either the northern or the southern tribes. The choice of David as king was due to human imitative, in this case, the elders of Israel.[19] David receives his anointing as king over Israel by acclamation of the people. The Philistines had killed Saul and Israel needs a war leader. They acknowledge the leadership of David even when Saul was king (I Sam 18:5-19:10). The text refers for the first time to an oracle from the Lord that David shall be shepherd and ruler of the people of the Lord, Israel. Jonathan in I Samuel 24:4, the men of David in I Samuel 24:4, and Abigail in I Samuel 25:28-31 also refer to the Lord making promises to David. He would begin his rule in Judah began when he was 30 and this event occurs when he is 37, reigning from 1000-960 BC). He consolidates his power. King David initiates calling it the City of David, for he captured it. David makes Jerusalem his capital due to its central location between Judah and Israel and because it was neutral territory. He carried out a building project. David was becoming increasingly great because the Lord was with him.
David and the leaders of Israel and Judah sealed a covenant. Any time two parties enter this kind of arrangement, the implication is that the parties have freely entered agreement, and they may freely negate the covenant. Israel will learn its greatest lessons through its failure and struggle. This was the position of the Deuteronomic History that we find in Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings. Israel will divide into two kingdoms due to abuse of power. It will fail to offer loyalty to the Lord by combining worship of the Lord with other gods. Its history becomes a record of the king and the people breaking the Ten Commandments. The Lord was just in bringing Assyria and Babylon to judge first the northern kingdom and then the southern kingdom. The result was the loss of Temple, city, king and land in the Babylonian exile. Yes, they will return and rebuild the Temple, but except for a brief period, they will be simply a small province within the Persian, Greek, and Roman empires. The Romans will destroy the Second Temple in 70 AD.
If we can look upon the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution as a covenant between the states and citizens with the federal government, then the nation can regularly commit itself to the principles of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That powerful dream of liberty is still frightening tyrants and giving hope. The concepts of basic human rights and limited government, with the consent of the governed, expressed so clearly and forceful, also find their embodiment in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. The failure to extend such rights to all persons with the existence of slavery led to Civil War and eventually the Civil Rights movement. This birth defect in America is one with America continues to struggle.
In the period between the formation of the constitution in 1787 and the Civil War in 1861, slavery received the backing of the courts. A particularly horrific decision was the case of Celia, a 19-year-old slave woman who killed her much older Missouri master in 1855 after he had been sexually exploiting her for five years, since buying her at age 14. When he tried to force himself on her, after she protested that she was already pregnant, she whacked him with a stick and burned his body. She was condemned to hang, the local court effectively deciding that a slave had no right to prevent a master from raping her. Missouri’s Supreme Court declined to intervene. Celia’s execution for trying to defend herself from a beast was just two years before the far more infamous 1857 Dred Scott case, in which the U.S. Supreme Court, 7–2, effectively ruled against any restrictions on slavery and decreed that black people, even if free, had no rights to citizenship. President James Buchanan, alongside much of America, celebrated that the decision put to rest the slavery issue.[20]
We could list other failures, of course. The Great Depression was one. The failure to keep a strong military that led to two world wars was a hard and costly lesson. The failure to use properly the Goliath type of economic and military power America has in the world has led to great cost in lives and financial resources. America is at its best when it practices the moral virtue of liberty that it preaches, whether in its political or economic sense.
Psalm 24 (Year B July 10-16) is a Song of Zion hymn, written before 721 in Judah. The psalm suggests a liturgy with procession of the Ark. It was part of the annual autumn festival climaxing in appearance of the Lord. It is a liturgy on entering the sanctuary. It is a hymn celebrating the Lord as creator and victor. On festival occasions, Jewish liturgy will use it when the Torah is returned to the Ark. Psalm 15 is similar to the beginning of this psalm. It begins by presenting the domain of the Lord over the earth, emphasizing the transcendence of the Lord. This psalm seems to position the poet from a location exterior to the scene itself; but slowly the focus, starting broad and wide, narrows to the throne of the King who is Lord over all. The scene first takes in the earth. Then the writer notes that the dominion of the Lord extends not only to the earth but to those in it, and the “world,” i.e., the society of humankind who “live in it.” The lens then zooms in even tighter to the hill of the Lord, and closer still to the “holy place.” The Lord tamed the primeval waters, symbols of chaos and disorder, establishing the earth upon them. The Lord is sovereign of the world, deducing the power of the Lord from creation. In Israel, the Lord was first the one who established a covenant with Israel, with Israel slowly perceiving creation as the work of the Lord. It then turns to a liturgy for use as pilgrims enter the sanctuary. The interaction of the trustful yearning for God and unconditional obedience springing from fear constitutes fundamentals of Old Testament piety. The requirements for participation in Temple worship are moral, signifying obedience to the Lord. It will contain rhetorical questions and their answers recited in antiphonal fashion. Thus, who is welcome before the transcendent God? Such is the question of the pilgrims. The priest gives the answer: People of integrity and genuine devotion. The apostle Paul picks up a similar theme as he advises the Corinthians to avoid approaching the Lord's Table "unworthily" (I Corinthians 11:29). Søren Kierkegaard said (in the title of a famous essay) purity of heart is “to will one thing.” In our prayers, in our contemplation, the goal is to will one thing: to achieve communion, however fleeting, with the divine. Pure-hearted worship strives to will one thing, and that thing is praise of the Almighty. Those who do not lift up their hearts to “what is false,” to what is empty, a reference to idolatry and the worship of many gods, are welcome. They have lifted or set their hearts upon what is true. Those welcome to the Temple worship reject offering a false oath. Such persons will receive benefits in their worship. The psalm assumes that you are no longer an infant, who needs unconditional love, but an adult, who needs to know what life and the Lord expect of you. Such persons receive blessing and vindication from the Lord, the God of their salvation. They seek the Lord, the face of the God of Jacob, a patriarchal identifier of God. Most would not receive this vision (Ex 33:18-23). Jesus said that the pure in heart will see God (Matt 5:8). Such an affirmation depends upon the idea that participation in the eternity of God suggests the need for radical change because of the sin that clings so closely human reality, which we can see in separation from God and in antagonism that human beings show to each other.[21] The psalm continues the narrowing of the perspective to the entrance of the Ark. The Lord enters the Temple. The Temple gates open for the Ark, symbolizing the presence of the Lord. It will also contain rhetorical questions and their answers recited in antiphonal fashion. He points us to the transfer of the Ark in the days of David, for which one can see II Samuel 6:12-16. It presents the liturgy accompanying epiphany in Temple. I Kings 6:23-28 makes one wonder if the Ark was ever part of the procession. The section assumes the victory of the Lord over chaos. The image is that of welcoming the Lord like a victorious king returning home to the palace. The king of glory is the Lord, the divine patron of Israel, returning to the city and Temple. The king of glory is the Lord of the heavenly hosts, the Ark leading Israel in battle. The return of the Ark from a battle is a symbol of the Lord victorious in battle.
II Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 (Year B July 10-16) connects with the psalm directly, recounting the bringing of the ark to Jerusalem. The Ark was a symbol of the presence of the Lord on behalf of Israel, especially in covenantal relationship and military victory. The Ark was moveable through the years in the wilderness and through Israel once it returned to the land promised to Abraham and his descendants. This rectangular object, 45 x 27 x 27 inches, was made of acacia wood, overlaid (according to Exodus 25:10-16) with gold leaf inside and out, and gold molding. Poles inserted through rings attached to its sides allowed people to transport the ark, and priests and Levites carried it in Israel’s most solemn processions. The Ark functioned first as part of the battles of Israel (Num 10:35-6), the Lord being the warrior deity who fought on behalf of Israel (Josh 6:1-21, Judg 5). The original ark, with its sphinxlike guardians that in the ancient near east flanked the royal throne, with the body of a bear or lion, a human face, and wings of an eagle, their outstretched wings meeting above the lid of the Ark, was the fearsome site of the earthly presence of a warrior god, imbued with potentially lethal power. It was the throne of the “Lord of hosts,” or the Lord of the heavenly armies. It also carried the tablets of the covenant that defined the relationship between the Lord and Israel. Enemies would have considered it supremely valuable war booty. The ark’s capture by the Philistines (I Samuel 5:1-2) occasioned a major political, social, military, and religious crisis in Israel, and its recovery required divine aid (I Samuel 6). The resulting throne-like structure was understood to be the throne (or footstool) of the invisible “LORD of [the heavenly] hosts,” Israel’s divine patron. Its movement in this early period would be accompanied by a procession with instruments, singing, chanting, and dancing, along with appropriate sacrifices. The Ark will disappear from history with the Babylonian exile, but reappears in the vision in Rev 10:19 in the heavenly Temple. The assumption is that the Ark is still at Kiriath-jearim, seven miles south-west of Jerusalem. The whole chapter pictures David as ready to serve the Lord, humble yet powerful. Jerusalem is the center of political and religious life. Saul could not accomplish political, military, and religious unity because he never achieved enough independence from the Philistines. The net effect is that, as David has united political and military power in Jerusalem, he now unites religious forces in Jerusalem. Prior to the construction of the temple (which David sought but was unable to build), the Ark was the most important religious artifact in Israel, symbolizing the Lord’s presence on earth among the chosen people. The Ark is on the move again. This time, the Ark symbolizes a shift in the politics and worship life of Israel, as David sees the need for the tribal federation to become a unified kingdom. The Ark will symbolize the rise of sacral kingship, a period that will last from for five centuries. The city remains the holy city in Judaism, as it is still the direction in which the faithful Jew will pray. In the process, Michal, one of the wives of David and the daughter the deceased Saul saw King David leaping and twirling in dance, and she despised him in her heart. His frivolous behavior is unfit for a king. The text ends at began, with sacrifices and a feast.
We are entering the succession document portion of the Deuteronomic History. The drama behind the story from II Samuel 6 to I Kings 1 is a tension that is still present toward the end, in I Kings 1:20, 27, of who will sit upon the throne and rule after him. Ammon, the eldest son of David, falls victim to his licentiousness. Absalom is victim of his ambitious scheming. The possibility of a descendant of Saul being the successor is ruled out. Finally, the last-born Solomon comes into view. His older stepbrother, Adonijah, might have had better title in law to claim the throne, but Nathan and Bathsheba succeed in forcing the accession of Solomon. He will then remove his rival. The worldliness of the account is striking. At the center of it all stands David, a man with strong inner antagonisms. He is a diplomat of far-sighted genius but is also a man driven by many passions to which he could succumb to the point of crime. Yet, he was always capable of generous impulses. He had genuine dignity in misfortune. We can see the biblical text showing a penetrating artistry in psychological portrayal. The text has candor in portraying the characters in the drama in a thoroughly worldly or secular way. These are not religious characterizations. The text allows the thoughtful reader to see the full range of love and hate, intrigue, ambition, humiliation, cunning, tests of loyalty. It does so without casting blame on what is dark or praising what is light. The story has a tone of austere nobility, something like what we find in in the history by Thucydides as well. The text portrays the fulfillment of destinies. About all else towards the guilt of King David in his guilt towards Uriah and his weakness with his sons. Those who act sinfully will reap the consequences of their actions, true, but this account is with the somber splendor of a mundane picture of the history. The action of the Lord is not through miracles, in the charisma of a leader, in catastrophes, or other manifestations of divine power. Rather, the sphere of this history is secular and the forces in play are from people. Religious influences do not direct them. The Lord guarantees the throne of David, but the keeping this promise involves an unexpected path, as the anointed one was humiliated and his throne falling victim to revolt. The story is realistic and secular. The anointed one suffers, yes, but the suffering arises out of his sin and guilt. His sufferings are not sacral, but the secularity of his suffering carries much theological weight.[22]
When King David installed the Ark of the Covenant in Jerusalem, he introduced a subtle but far-reaching change in Israel’s religious history. No longer would Israel understand the God of Israel to have an earthly dwelling in a mobile sanctuary that could be located at any number of shrines in Israel. Henceforth, the Divine Presence, as represented visually by the sacred chest containing the tablets of the law, would be located only and exclusively in Jerusalem, making the political capital of Israel its holy city as well. Political and religious strands weave themselves into the background of this text, which were never entirely separate in ancient Israel. The story of the ark parallels, in many ways, the political, military, and religious history of pre-exilic Israel; the story of David’s rise to kingship follows similar broad outlines. David’s achievement in creating the united kingdom of Israel rested on a number of factors, his military skill chief among them. Through several victories against Israel’s nearby enemies (especially the Philistines; compare, e.g., II Samuel 5:17-25), he was able to bring both relief from external threats and consolidation of his own power within and among the twelve tribes. Those expeditions (e.g., I Samuel 30:1-20; II Samuel 5:1-10) lay behind the word “again.” One of David’s most important early tactical decisions was to make the ancient Jebusite city of Jerusalem his capital (II Samuel 5:6-12), a political decision that was reinforced by the religious decision to bring the ark into the citadel that became known as “the city of David” (II Samuel 5:7, 9; 6:10, 12, etc.).
I would like to bring the movement of the Ark and its celebration in song and dance into alignment. The text views all this as directed by the Lord. The Lord endorsed the movement to sacral kingship and the eventual covenant with David and his descendants. The Lord endorsed the movement to settled worship in the Temple. In fact, for several centuries, the Lord blessed Israel with prophets, priests, kings, and poets, who took the covenant of the people of the Lord seriously. Yet, it did not last forever. Another movement of the Ark would come. This time, the movement would come forcibly. Babylonians captured the Ark and melted it down the gold for their use. Theologically, the Ark will reappear in the heavenly temple. The Ark keeps moving, as the challenges of the times dictate. The people of the Lord had much to learn about their God, as well as what it would mean to be the people of the Lord. They will have to see how they can embody the covenant with the Lord in their new historical setting. To put it yet another way, the Lord keeps moving and the people of the Lord need to synchronize their worship and life around where the Lord is moving. The people of the Lord discovered that land, city, temple, and Davidic king keep receiving new life and interpretation considering historical events that prophets, priests, kings, and apostles view as revelation.
Psalm 89:20-37 (Year B July 17-23) is part of a royal psalm from the exilic period. T may have been used at times of national distress. It was part of a worship festival. Dynasty considerations predominate. The poet prays for the restoration of the Davidic dynasty, and thus, for the end of the exile and the restoration of the Jews to their land as an independent people, as they were before the exile. If exilic, the psalm becomes a long meditation on the perplexing nature of the covenant of the Lord with Israel, specifically, the Lord’s covenant with David. It becomes a poetic reinterpretation of the promise to David in II Samuel 7:11-17. The poet omits references to the Temple and focuses on the permanence of Davidic kingship. This is a striking departure from most exilic psalms, which have more concern with the Temple than with the dynasty. Among the most difficult experiences for an individual, community, or nation occurs when everything is falling apart. The exile was that time for Israel, Judah, priests, royal family, and prophets. In this case, the issue was the love and mercy from the Lord which the covenant promised facing the harsh reality of exile.
The covenant with David and his descendants will be eternal even in the face of human sin. This is a poetic reformulation of II Samuel 7:22-27, which like that text assumes an eternal, unbreakable David covenant, contrasting with Psalm 132_11-12 and I Kings 9:4-9. It recapitulates the divine promise to David. The writer has offered a list of the magnalia Dei, the gracious acts of the Lord on behalf of Israel. The king responds to what the Lord has said by recalling another significant act of the Lord on behalf of Israel, the promise to David. He affirms that not even human sin will end the covenant. Such an intimate relationship as we see here between the Lord and the king become the basis for the intimate relation within the Trinity between Father and Son.[23] This is the only passage to refer to sacral chrism as the oil used to anoint David. Of course, the oil did not possess holiness. Rather, the Lord bestowed holiness upon it. Even with steadfast love and faithfulness as a divine promise, we see here this covenant loyalty does not promise absence of danger, loss, or stress. Even David will have his enemies and wicked ones who seek him harm. The promise contained in divine love and faithfulness is that such opposition will not prevail. The path of a human life will have pain and sorrow. Yet, this covenant loyalty, such steadfast love and faithfulness, will accompany the human partner along a precarious journey. Human beings can count on this love, for this love is strong and true. The faithfulness and steadfast love of the Lord often occurring together in the Old Testament because this turn in love toward the creatures the Lord has made reveals the identity and consistency of the eternal God.[24] The psalm portrays powers to David reserved for the Lord. He shall call the Lord his Father (Ps 2:7 and II Sam 7:14). Israel shared with its neighbors the idea of the king being the adopted son of a god who ordained that he should rule. Priests and prophets already claimed direct communication with the Lord, while royalty claimed this connection late. Surrounding cultures made this a major theme, but the theme, important as it is, is rare in the Old Testament. However, it was undoubtedly an important part of royal ideology. The king was hardly the only leader to whom the deity regularly communicated (and was the last of the three great leadership institutions to claim that privilege), so the divine parentage of the king never achieved in Israel the prominence it enjoyed elsewhere in the ancient world, as, for example, among the pharaohs of Egypt or the Roman emperors. Whatever the king’s accomplishments on behalf of the chosen people and none were held in higher esteem than David’s – the king remained principally and finally the servant of the Lord.
The poet then portrays the Lord as promising a dynasty. Righteousness and faithfulness have a close relation because the identity and consistency of the eternal God shows itself in God turning in love toward the creatures God has made.[25]
The poet then has the Lord giving a warning to the descendants of David of their punishment if they abandon the covenant, but a promise that the Lord will not abrogate the covenant due to their disobedience. Yet, even if they do, the Lord will not violate the covenant, and in this promise the Lord does not lie. Sun and moon stand as enduring witnesses to the promise of God. Psalm 89 is an attempt to remind its hearers that the enduring religion of the Bible is a relationship. How one goes about redefining the deep, unbreakable relationship at the core of biblical religion is what this psalm is about.
II Samuel 7:1-14a (Year B July 17-23) has a direct relationship with the Psalm and is part of one of the most important theological texts in the account of David. All successful dynasties in the ancient Near East were expected to establish and maintain a functioning worship life, connecting the throne to the divine realm. Such divine sanction of the dynasty was an important aspect of the public acceptance of the dynasty. In this rejection of his desire, David is told that the Lord will grant him a stable dynasty, and therefore, David cannot use the Lord to further his political ambitions. The Temple will be built only when the Lord deems fit.
We quickly learn that this passage will have a fascinating wordplay on the meanings of one word. In Hebrew, the word is “bayit,” occurring 15 times in the chapter. The NRSV translates the word as “house.”[26] The Lord objects to the plan of David to build the Lord a house (temple) and announces instead that the Lord will make a house (dynasty) for David, and that the son of David will build the Lord a house (Temple).
A theme of the story of David has been that he consulted the Lord. He does not do so here. He may have been enamored with his success. Nathan the prophet, who initially agrees with the plan, may have been as well. David’s desire to build a temple, then, reveals that he might be trying to pay the Lord back for what the Lord had done for him. It is a transactional way of thinking – I owe the Lord a debt and the more I do for the Lord, the more the Lord will do for me in turn. Quid pro quo. This thinking was typical of the Canaanite pagan religions, and it is unfortunat–y typical of the way that too many think of their relationship with God. It would have been typical of David, and us, to think in terms of paying the Lord back. Given the recent victories he ascribed to the Lord, we can understand how he might view his relationship with the Lord as a transactional one. The Lord has acted for him; he now does something for the Lord, so that the Lord will do more actions for him in the future. He may have wanted to build a house for the Lord because he wanted to ensure the favor of the Lord in the future. We need to ponder this: has David gone too far in taking the initiative in his relationship with the Lord? Such arrogance on the part of a powerful and successful ruler would be a way of making the Lord into a responsive patron. Such initiative is what we might expect from the power of the political state.[27]
Nathan is open to having the Lord adjust his first impression when he receives a word from the Lord. In Shiloh there was a House of the Lord (I Samuel 1:7, 9), but there was also a tent that symbolized the idea that the Lord is not restricted to one fixed place. We can see here the tension at this early stage of the history of Israel between the notions that the Lord enthroned in heaven might also have a dwelling on earth.[28] David wanted to build the Lord a house to pay the Lord back and as a way of ensuring the favor of the Lord in the future. The Lord tells David,owever, that it is not necessary. David has not earned the favor of the Lord. And in any case, David cannot repay the Lord for preserving him and making him king. All of this is the result of the initiative of the Lord on David's behalf and on behalf of the people of the Lord. The offspring of David will be the house the Lord builds for David, which in rabbinic times was applied to the Messiah. This focuses upon the main theme of the chapter, the dynasty of David. Like a father and son, the Lord will chastise the successor of David, but never reject him. We should note that the term “father” when applied to God is rare in the Old Testament, but here is one of the cases when it does so by God being father to the king.[29] As such, the king was the earthly representative of divine lordship.[30] As such, this terminology became a fitting place to which the New Testament goes to describe Jesus. Referring to Jesus as the Son of the Father has an intimation here and in Psalm 2:7.[31]The title of Son or Son of God was fitting for the Messiah, for the Davidic king was the son of God.[32] II Samuel 23:5: “Is not my house [bayit] like this with God? For he has made with me an everlasting covenant [berit ‘olam], ordered in all things and secure ... .” Covenant / berit can mean a treaty, agreement, or arrangement. In theological settings, it delineates a mutual relationship, initiated and given by God.
Such texts form part of the biblical basis for the development of the Christian notion of the Trinity. This hope also becomes part of the Christian hope for the return of Christ. The promise made to David is for time to come. It explicitly concerns David’s son Solomon, but there are always sons to come, generations of Davids yet unborn, each of which is the carrier of this unconditional promise. By this announcement, the line of David is no longer simply a historical accident but is a constitutive factor in God’s shaping of the historical process. Out of this oracle there emerges the hope held by Israel in every season that there is a coming David who will right wrong and establish a good governance. That coming hidden in the vagaries of history, may experience resistance from the recalcitrance of injustice and unrighteousness, but nevertheless there is one coming who will make things right.
This text does not intend to point to Jesus. If we expand the conversation beyond the text, we may see how easy and natural it was for the community around Jesus to seize upon this text to understand the reality of Jesus. Aside from the specificity of Jesus, however, this enduring promise to David has placed messianism at the heart of both Judaism and Christianity. This utterance by Yahweh through the mouth of Nathan has made these communities to be communities of hope. That hope believes, confesses, and trusts that God will keep God’s promise of righting the world and that the promise will be kept within the historical process through a historical agent. This promise, then, is not one among many for Jews and Christians; it is the decisive shaper of both these communities who trust God’s work to become visible within the historical process.[33]
The promises that the Lord made to David and his successors would later be understood messianically, as each king was anointed. “Messiah” – mashiah (hard “h”) in Hebrew – means “anointed one.” NT writers believed that Jesus Christ (christos/”anointed one” – the Greek equivalent of “Messiah”), in the legal line of David, was the ultimate fulfillment of those dynastic promises to David. The accounts of the birth of Jesus in Matthew 1:1-18a and Luke 1:30-33, 2:1-14 are obvious as the New Testament witness views Jesus as a fulfillment of the promise of a dynasty for David. Peter refers to the promise to David that his son would sit upon the throne as finding fulfillment in the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus (Acts 2:29-36). Paul affirms that the Son of God is an offspring of David according to the flesh (Romans 1:1-4). He is an offspring of David (II Timothy 2:8). The risen Lord declares himself to be the root and offspring of David (Revelation 22:16). See also multiple references in Matthew to Jesus as “son of David.” God has, in grace, fulfilled his covenantal dynastic promises. The covenant with David and his offspring consists of a promise that we need to see as connected to the covenant with the Hebrews through Moses at Sinai and continued with Israel as the Tribal Federation unfolded. The promise of land for this people is central to the covenant. The covenant with David will expand to a promise for Jerusalem and the Temple. These promises do find fulfillment in the coming of heavenly Jerusalem and in the return of the risen Lord to establish justice and righteousness. “Jesus, Lord, at thy birth” (in “Silent Night”) will come to be called not only “King of the Jews,” but also “King of kings and Lord of lords” (the greatest king and highest lord) of all humanity. We receive God’s Christmas Gift and trustingly follow him.
Psalm 14 (Year B July 24-30), like Ps 53, is an individual lament. Unlike most psalms, it refers to God in the third person rather than addressing God directly. The psalm has a close connection with prophetic concerns about the corruption of the leading circles of Israel who oppresses the poor. A gloomy psalm ends with confidence that the Lord will restore the fortunes of the people of the Lord. Those devoid of intelligent exercise of the awareness of God demonstrate this by their lack of wisdom. They keep their views of God private because of the social stigma an infidel would receive. Their practical atheism says that God does not exist in a way that punishes or corrects. This view leads to a corruption of morality, doing abominable and perverse things. To engage in abominable things is to adopt the way of life of the Canaanites. The wise seek God in prayer, but the Lord is finding only fools, those who have gone astray and are perverse. No does good. The poet concludes like a prophet. There is hope, for the company of the righteous are present as well. While many would ruin their fellow citizens, revealing their lack of religious and social responsibility, the Lord is the refuge of the poor. It ends with a subtle critique of the political-religious establishment in Zion that has failed in its responsibility to create and maintain the "priestly kingdom and holy nation" God created Israel to be (Exodus 19:6). The grace of God will restore Jacob/Israel. The gloomy tenor of the psalm leads to a confident hope resting on divine deliverance.
Any aggressive form of secularity and atheism reveals itself to lack respect for traditional wisdom. At the same time, those who believe need to surrender the ancient view that the Bible provides answers for all things scientific. Believing that a specific moment and place is a revelation of the divine will relates to the desire to participate in what is true, good, and beautiful. This desire is what makes human beings who they are. Revelation addresses that need. As important as logic, math, and science are in our quest to understand the universe in which we live, they are not everything. In fact, we cannot reduce some of the most critical areas of human individual and corporate life to the scientific. To put it bluntly, anyone who would reduce to scientific explanation Plato, Aristotle, Shakespeare, poetry, novels, religious sensibility, witness to divine revelation, and so on, is going down a path that will lead to a dead end.
In his famous 1896 lecture, The Will to Believe, American philosopher and pioneer psychologist William James defends the adoption of certain beliefs that are, by nature, incapable of empirical proof. Within this category, he includes religious belief. James summarizes his argument by saying that our passion, will, intuition, are valid ways in which to make decisions when logic or science does not provide the tools to make the decisions. We can do so without risk of losing our concern for truth.[34] James says that the scientific method is of tremendous value, but when it comes to weighty matters of the heart, there are certain propositions that can only remain as hypotheses. There is no way to prove such hypotheses, but there is likewise no way to disprove them. In the absence of such empirical proof, there is a recognition we experience as we encounter faith-propositions: "Of some things we feel that we are certain: we know, and we know that we do know. There is something that gives a click inside of us, a bell that strikes twelve, when the hands of our mental clock have swept the dial and meet over the meridian hour" (13). It would be absurd, in committed human relationships like marriage, to base our participation solely on empirical evidence. No one would ever make it to the wedding chapel on that basis! Because faith is about having a personal relationship with God, James continues, a similar dynamic pertains: "The universe is no longer a mere It to us, but a Thou, if we are religious; and any relation that may be possible from person to person might be possible here" (27-28).
The human faculty that allows us to make faith-commitments is the will. People of faith can admit that matters of faith involve us in a different type of reasoning than one finds in science. Yet, science often makes advances that arise out of intuition (Michael Polanyi). Even the scientists must rely upon a sense of where the answer may lay. Decision-making is not a matter of strict logic or a scientific formula. It will involve our will to believe. This understanding of the will and of faith can lead to humbly and honestly sharing a faith journey in a way that gains a respectful conversation. Those who have this internal conversation and deny the existence of God are in the pews of the churches. They have not produced anything new. Those who will to believe need to live in a way that says to all that God is here and with us.
The psalm connects with the Old Testament lesson in its emphasis on moral corruption. Not even King David was free of it.
II Samuel 11:1-15 (Year B July 24-30) is the story of the adultery of David with Bathsheba. It derives from an early source that makes up most of II Samuel, from an individual with first-hand knowledge of the events.
Of all the flawed heroes of the Old Testament, David is the most spectacularly flawed of all, given the amount of love and veneration the text affords him. David has been a man of devotion and action. He has had military and financial success. David's greatest failures are often the result of inaction. If this story were not bad enough, however, later in the story David will stand passively by as his son Amnon rapes his daughter Tamar (13:1-22) and is then murdered by Tamar’s brother Absalom, another of David’s sons (13:23-33). He will exile Absalom instead of having him executed for fratricide (13:34-38) and live to regret that decision when Absalom returns to court only to lead a rebellion against David shortly thereafter (14:1-19:8). He does not appear to care about the peacefulness of his successor’s rise to the throne, oblivious to the fact that two of his sons, Adonijah and Solomon, are assuming they are next in line to succeed him (1 Kings 1). The story of his relationship with Bathsheba also begins with a reference to inaction on David's part.
The story of David’s adulterous affair with Bathsheba, and the subsequent killing of her husband Uriah, is one of the Bible’s most famous and compelling narratives. This gripping narrative marks the beginning of the story of the domestic troubles that beset the house of King David, Israel’s most illustrious king. There are few examples in ancient literature of stories that show successful and powerful kings in a negative light. The narrator tells this story in a way that shows the horror and immorality of adultery, and thus the overriding importance of moral values. Of course, here is an important example of the breaking of the Ten Commandments. David, the servant of the Lord, the anointed of the Lord, breaks the 10th, 7th, and 6th commandments in succession. The story suggests the power of beauty, the power of desire, the abuse of power, the illusory character of sudden intimacy, and the danger of using people to fulfill our desire. The self-destructive impulse is present here, as well as the socially destructive nature of sin.
The story can be difficult to read, for the narrator has recently painted a positive picture of David. We see hints of problems in his family. We see the suddenness and intensity of his anger. With his power and success, and with the wives and concubines he has as a sign of both, one would not think of as capable of what this story suggests. Part of the difficulty of reading is some of the theology. Although David commits an act worthy of death, the Lord places that punishment upon the child. David will live for another day. Part of the difficulty is wrestling with our tendency toward moralism. It is so tempting to separate ourselves from David, to think we could never do what David did. Our tendency toward self-righteousness can rise quickly. At a deeper level, if we wrestle with what David does here on a personal level, we recognize that David is in us. Failure to respect the boundaries of our sexuality is a temptation for many human beings. Yet, for some persons, a greater source of temptation may come from another place (desire for power, fame, wealth, knowledge, perfection, and so on). Our reflections upon this story should lead us away from moralism, toward the recognition of the power of inappropriate desire, and strengthen our resolve to lead a life that honors our covenant with the Lord and with others.
David is both the mightiest of warriors and a spectator in the wars of the Lord.[35] Although it is the "time when kings go out to battle," David remains in Jerusalem while his nephew Joab (I Chronicles 2:16) goes across the Jordan to lead the siege of Rabbah. Throughout the story, the author juxtaposes David's activities with Bathsheba with Joab and Uriah's activities on the battlefield. In context, David has engaged the Arameans in battle. At the same time, Joab seems frustrated that David is in Jerusalem when he sends a message to David that if David does not gather troops to finish the siege of Rabbah Joab will take the city and make a name for himself (12:26-31). Thus, while his army is during this "time of going out [to battle]," David is getting his first view of Bathsheba. David already has many wives, concubines, some of whom were “very beautiful” as well, and children (II Samuel 3:2-5, 5:13-16). Sexual desire has no boundaries. No matter how beautiful is the woman a man has, a man will notice the beauty of other women. He does not have to act. The man of action, who is now inactive in battle, will now turn to being a man of action again, but in the wrong direction. Uriah was a foreign mercenary. Uriah is a member of the elite royal corps The Thirty (I Samuel 23:39). David’s betrayal of so trusted (and, as the subsequent narrative depicts, trusting) a comrade-in-arms accentuates the gravity of his sin. One could interpret that David forced himself on her.[36] One ought not to let David off the hook in any way. If she was bathing on the roof, that would have been normal. She was doing so for religious reasons of purification. In terms of the insight of the story regarding coveting and adultery, he saw her beauty, which led to the action of inquiry and the action of sexual relations. The text goes further in saying that David sends his servant “to get” her. The Hebrew word is better translated "to take" her. Bathsheba, a woman married to a foreigner, certainly did not have the power in that ancient culture to refuse the advances of the king. Thus, David breaks the commandment against committing adultery and that not coveting the wife of your neighbor.
When he learns of her pregnancy, David knows he has a problem. David has no interest in the answer to his questions regarding how Joab and the soldiers fared and how the war wa going. His focus is on getting Uriah to have intercourse with his beautiful wife. Given the battlefield conditions, it was not right for him to enjoy his wife. Such activity caused ritual impurity inconsistent with waging holy war (Leviticus 15:18; Deuteronomy 23:10-11). David hopes that Uriah is not concerned with Israelite covenant law. He is mistaken. We see the heart of Uriah that makes him intent upon fulfilling his duties as a soldier and the service of the king. We need to be thankful for the example such persons set in our lives. Unlike David, we need to listen to them, observe them, and be like them when the time comes. Even when drunk, he does not forget himself. Uriah the Hittite behaves himself like a virtuous Israelite soldier. In the end, Uriah, the foreigner, keeps himself holier according to Israelite law than does the Israelite king, but it is eventually that very holiness that gets him killed. David becomes complicit in the death of Uriah, breaking another commandment. Uriah returns to the battlefield, unwittingly serving as the bearer of his own death warrant. Here again, the theme of action and inaction returns in that David effectively developed a plan to murder Uriah without having to lift a finger of his own to accomplish it. David does not do this because he is in love; he does it because he is in trouble. This planned murder is a cover-up. David goes through all these machinations so that he may hide his sin and maintain his reputation and power. David, the former shepherd, is now King David. He could have used his power to influence people toward liberation and healing. Instead, he sends his people into a battle he does not deem important to attend himself. He uses Bathsheba for his pleasure and sends her away when he is through. Eventually, he uses his commanders to put Uriah in a vulnerable position that not only gets Uriah killed, but other soldiers as well.
Among the greatest challenges we face is that our freedom of choice will lead to a self-made prison. The point of the boundaries set in the Jewish and Christian tradition regarding sex is that our sexuality is not just about sex. Sexuality is about character, virtue, and the family. We make a mess when we start undermining such important aspects of our lives.
David's treatment of Bathsheba and Uriah is a chilling warning to us. It illustrates the deadly danger of seeing humans as objects -- objects that satisfy our personal desires and agendas. Instead of respecting Bathsheba as a woman and a wife, David sees her as an attractive thing designed to give him pleasure. Instead of honoring Uriah as a soldier and a husband, David disposes of him as though he were an annoying, throwaway object. This story packs an emotional punch as it shows the great harm that we can do when we treat people as objects instead of as human beings. This story would have ended differently had David loved Bathsheba and Uriah. Our own desire drags us away and entices us. Once conceived, it gives birth to sin, and sin leads to death (James 1:13-15).[37] Death is the grandchild of desire. At this point, the story of David and Bathsheba is not so much one of romance as it is lust and power. A powerful and wealthy man uses his privilege because he can.
Psalm 51:1-12 (Year B July 31-August 6) is an individual lament. As one seven penitential psalms (6, 32, 38, 102, 130, 143), a special tone of penitence or contrition marked these psalms. The poet grasps the depths of sin and shows a path toward forgiveness, opening the way toward true communion with God. It is an unusual biblical text in displaying a high degree of psychological realism. He gives voice to individual and corporate prayer of repentance, yearning for forgiveness from God, restoration, and holiness. Parts of this psalm can teach us how to acknowledge our guilt, to repent by turning from sin and toard God, and to ask for the loving mercy of God, which will bring forgiveness, joyful restoration, and inner strength to live a holy life.
God wants to bring healing into our lives. Among the ways God wants to do this is to give us the heart of forgiving persons. We hurt ourselves when we hold resentment in our hearts. We bring healing to our lives when we open ourselves to our need for forgiveness, and the need we have to forgive others.
In our relationship with God, we can have confidence in the covenant loyalty (chesed), faithfulness, favor, and graciousness of God. With confidence in such qualities, we ask for mercy, acknowledging our rebellion, and can ask for cleansing our perversity and our tendency to miss the mark regarding fulfilling our covenant responsibility to God and to others. At some point in our lives, we will do something intolerable, and we need it gone. It remains in our thoughts, as much as we try to set it aside. We are aware of how deeply we have offended God. We become aware that the orientation of our lives is toward the self-destruction contained in our rebellion and our tendency to miss the mark. We join with the rest of humanity in this tendency. Thus, the problem is not simply an event, but a condition that plagues humanity. God desires authenticity, so we need to have the courage to face this reality of who we are. it requires courage because it can be painful. The goal of such acknowledgement of who we are, what we have done in our confession is health, but sometimes pain is part of the process of getting there. We need to regularly build times into our lives when we acknowledge and confess the dirt that has accumulated in our thoughts and actions, anticipating that God will bring renewal. We can turn to God because God is faithful to the covenant and shows mercy. God will bring the cleansing and pardon we need. We need a renewal of our thoughts and inclinations that will orient us toward God. Since God has a covenant loyalty toward us, we can be sure that God does not cast us out of the presence of God and that the Spirit of God remains with us. Because of the forgiveness of God, we can also have joy and gladness in a renewed relationship.
Each of us has made mistakes. We have made serious mistakes. Frankly, our hearts have committed sins that our hands have not yet gotten around to yet.[38] Pascal said that if everyone knew the innermost thoughts of everyone else, there would not be five friends left on Earth. Yet, our failure does not consist in morally falling. Our failure consists in staying down. Each of us can have a fresh start.[39]
In Gorgias, a dialogue by Plato, one of the questions Socrates asks is whether the wicked person is genuinely happy. Some thought that if the person never experienced punishment, the answer was yes. Socrates, however, connected virtue and goodness to a happy life. He thought the philosopher needed to be like a medical doctor. The goal is always health, but sometimes pain is the way to get there. Preachers must think that way. Churches must think that way. prayers of confession can be that way. Their absolute statements have awakened me to times when I have fallen short of what God wanted in my life. Most churches encourage frequent confession of sin. Some do so every Sunday through a prayer of confession. Our sins are the same each week. To use an analogy, our homes are the same each week. The dirt is the same. Yet, we clean our homes. If we did not, the dirt will build up. We can say something similar about the condition of the soul. Sins build up. If we do not regularly confess our sins, we neglect the soul.[40]
If we cannot forgive, we destroy the bridge over which each of us must pass to restore relationships that matter.[41] Such forgiveness may cover an incident. It may be for therapeutic benefit. The offended person recognizes the value in becoming less vengeful and more benevolent toward the wrongdoer, and thus refuses to avoid the face of the other. Therapeutic forgiveness releases the claim the offender may legitimately have on the other. Yet, it does not necessarily lead to reconciliation and restoration of a broken relationship. Redemptive forgiveness shows to the other and shares with the other redemptive grace. I am thinking theologically here. From the Christian perspective, salvation and redemption is a matter of human beings participating in the joyful, infinite life and glory of the Trinity. Christians invite people to be part of the community of infinite love and grace that is Trinitarian life. Therefore, we can see forgiveness as an aspect of the broad movement of God toward the redemption of humanity. [42]
The connection of the psalm with the Old Testament reading highlights the importance of confession of sin.
II Samuel 11:26-12:13a (Year B July 31-August 6) continues the story of David and Bathsheba, focusing upon the confrontation between David and Nathan. The story explores the secretive nature of sin, how to have redemptive conversations about sin, and that the point of conversations about sin is redemption and forgiveness.
The story of David involves the struggle he had in the most of intimate relationship he had, that of his family. The intimate communion of mind and heart that occurs in family, seeing each other at our best and worst, is the nature of family. We see David at his worst. Short phrases summarize his plight. “I am pregnant,” says Bathsheba. “You are the man,” says Nathan. “I have sinned against God,” says David. The darker side of the life of David seemed to come out in his family life. He committed the sin of coveting when he saw Bathsheba bathing. He committed the sin of adultery as he carried out his plan to have intercourse with her, even while her husband was fighting in his army. The prophet Nathan accuses David of committing the sin of stealing from one much less powerful and wealthy than he is. He committed the sin of murder as he instructed his commanders to place her husband in a situation of the heaviest fighting to kill him. His son, Amnon, rapes his daughter, Tamar, and he does nothing, a fact that arouses the anger of Absalom, who then kills his half-brother Amnon. Absalom then breaks the commandment to honor father and mother by inciting others to rebel against David. His son, Solomon, marries many foreign wives and builds idols to their gods, thereby breaking the first two commandments. My point, of course, is that the life of David, as central as it is to the story of Israel, becomes an example of how even the greatest King, David, and his family, broke several of the Ten Commandments.
The life of David is a reminder not to place too much trust in people, regardless of how “good” they may appear to be. They are not perfect. We must still rely upon God and look to Christ. People can point the way to Christ. Yet, at times, their light burns dimly.
King David has gotten away with it. He marries Bathsheba to protect himself from public shame. He also had a quick marriage with Abigail. The coverup is successful. He is getting away with coveting and adultery. Explicit judgment comes from the Lord, who is displeased with what David had done. Nathan is a prophet with the court of David. His livelihood depended upon the good favor of David. He is an insider to the government. The remarkably firm statement he will make of moral condemnation of David is uttered by one who stands who lose everything. The parable Nathan will tell presents a legal case. The point is to get David to pass judgment upon himself without knowing he was doing so. It closely corresponds to the actual events as the narrator has described them. It stresses the social aspect of the robbery, the rich man taking the scant property of the poor man. The emphasis is upon the emotional attachment of the man with the lamb. As Nathan describes the relationship of the poor man and the little ewe, he describes the same activities that David used in his attempt to entice Uriah to be his wife, and so that one could attribute Bathsheba's pregnancy to Uriah: Eat, drink, and lie (cf. 11:11). Nathan details the intimacy between the poor man and the little ewe. The response of anger from David reminds us of the capacity David for intense anger. Although this was only a robbery, David says the man deserves death. In declaring the guilt of the man, he is condemning himself. The Lord makes it clear that David has broken the commandments of adultery and coveting. The Lord has made him king, yet, he has despised the commandment of the Lord and done evil in the sight of the Lord. Having arrived at the summit of his life, he has forgotten the Lord who made him king and brought him to this height.[43] There will be consequences, as violence will define the House of David and as someone, who will prove to be Absalom, will take his wives and concubines, the shame being done publicly on the roof top of the palace. David does not offer excuses. David accepts responsibility for what he has done. In what may be David's finest moment, David recognizes who is the true King of Israel and humbles himself before him, acknowledging his sin and repenting. To his credit, David confesses his sin. David's response to Nathan's prophecy is to confess, repent and acknowledge God's justice. As punishment for adultery, both David and Bathsheba should have been executed (Leviticus 20:10). Because he is repentant, however, he does not receive the death penalty. Rather, the violence he has perpetrated on the family of the innocent Uriah will rebound upon his own family.
The story of David holds an ambiguous and puzzling place in the massive history of Israel that we read in Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings, a story that connects the time of the Patriarchs and Moses on the one hand with the exile on the other hand. That history shows the disobedience of Israel, and especially its kings, as they broke their covenant with God. The height of that covenant was the Ten Commandments. The kings broke the commandments. The power of the story of David is that the most successful king militarily and politically, the king who sought direction from God, also dramatically broke covenant with God and with Israel.
Psalm 130 (Year B August 7-13) is an individual lament that concludes by addressing the community. It is part of a collection within the psalter, the Songs of Ascent, referring to the ascent to Jerusalem or to the Temple. It has become liturgical prayer. It is a plea for help. It is a cry for a divine hearing. It reflects the psalmist’s awareness of the pervasive nature of human sinfulness in the face of the righteousness and justice of the Lord and the despair that such awareness can provoke. However, it is also a clear affirmation of the mercy of the Lord that overcomes human despair. The psalm is the confession of a devout person who was able to rise from the anguish caused by sin to assurance of forgiveness. The poet offers a succinct and powerful expression of the human predicament and the dependence of humanity upon divine grace to bring healing and wholeness. Genuine redemption includes not only freedom from guilt, but also freedom from the prison in which sin captures a human life. [44]
The poet begins by seeking divine attention. He refers to his experience of the depths, a metaphor for the underworld and of being near death or of the emotional, spiritual, and psychological distress, chaotic forces that trouble human life. This experience leads him to cry out to the Lord, Adonai, suggesting that the depths is a metaphor for feeling distant from God, so he must shout because of that distance and to get the attention of the Lord. The poet uses graphic anthropomorphic imagery to refer to the ears of the Lord turning toward him to show the Lord is paying attention. His iniquity has created this distance. If the Lord were an accountant regarding our sins, we would all be doomed. The Hebrew noun has a complex meaning, encompassing iniquity (the sin itself), guilt (we are guilty, and we feel guilty) and punishment; the related Hebrew verb can mean to twist, to distort and to pervert. “Iniquities” is one of the deepest and most inward of the Old Testament words for sin. It represents the corruption of the heart.[45] Isaiah 59:2 is relevant, where iniquity has put a barrier between the people and the Lord, so much so that the Lord does not look upon them. Here, reverence or being in awe of the Lord comes from forgiveness rather than the threat of punishment. We must neither trivialize sin nor underestimate the love and grace of God. If you have ever been responsible for a division with a spouse, friend, or child, asked forgiveness, and the other person refuse to forgive, you know that forgiveness is truly a gift one can withhold from giving. Thus, this experience of the depths of sin makes it possible to see divine grace. God overcomes sin through forgiveness. This is what leads to repentance. The theological notion expressed is that the Lord must forgive since all people sin, and forgiveness rather than punishment causes people to hold the Lord in awe. No ritual is necessary for this forgiveness, and the sin is completely erased. He is waiting and hoping for an oracle from the Lord. Waiting and hoping for the brokenness of a relationship is never easy. His soul waits for a living word that will address his situation. He is eagerly awaiting, expecting, looking for, longing for, and hoping for, something. The personal becomes communal as the poet urges Israel to hope in the Lord because of the steadfast love (hesed) and power of the Lord to redeem. In Jeremiah 29:11, God offers “a future with hope.”[46] In the Lord’s Word, the psalmist hopes (see Psalm 119:74); thus, the Lord will do what the Lord promises about forgiveness. The poet ends with confidence that the Lord will redeem Israel from all its iniquities. Sinners receive redemption through forgiveness of their sins. The word “redeem” goes back to the ancient world when armies would routinely conquer neighboring countries and take people as prisoners. The family members left behind would recover from the invasion, and then pull together money to use as a ransom to buy the freedom of their loved ones. The redeemer, in these cases, would be the person who travels abroad to buy back what the enemy confiscated, to rescue the people who the enemy had taken into captivity. There was nothing necessarily religious about this redeemer. He was simply doing a job. However, from this ancient work, we get an image for God — the one who is, for us, the redeemer.
William James, who wrote Varieties of Religious Experience, was a psychologist in the early 1900’s. He describes the healthy-minded as having a sense that all is well with the world and/or that they are on the right side of God. Against this are the sick souls who cannot help but see the pain, loss, evil, and suffering in the world. One might think that as a psychologist, James is recommending the healthy-minded, but instead, he recommends the sick soul. You see, one may have a sick soul due to loss of significance, to a powerful sense of evil and suffering in the world, and to a keen sense of personal sin. As James sees it, the individual must die to unreal life before he or she can experience rebirth into real life. Such is the heart of religion, because this experience meets our most dire spiritual need for significance, facing suffering, and personal deliverance from sin.
The despair of the poet matches the despair expressed by King David in the Old Testament Lesson.
II Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 (Year B August 7-13) are selections from 17:24-19:8a that recounts the defeat and death of Absalom. Reading the entire context, which includes the story of the rebellion of Absalom and the response of David, would be wise. Despite his criminal behavior, David uses an endearing reference, “my boy,” in referring to Absalom and urging his soldiers to deal gently with him. This may show a readiness to forgive, or a sign of the weakness David has exhibited toward his family. It shows his confidence in victory. The text refers to the soldiers of David moving against Israel, the northern ten tribes, rather than the usual term “rebels” in this account. The slaughter of Israelites was great. Unlike David, Absalom participates in the battle. However, he falls victim to the forest and cannot free himself, as ten of the soldiers of David come upon him and kill him. The Negro slave delivers the message to David. Divine justice is done. The servants of David won the battle in the forest of Ephraim. David wanted the life of Absalom spared, but Joab had him killed. He famously offers the lament: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”
This sad and tragic account of David's loss of a son circles back to David himself and his sins of omission. Absalom's hatred of his father begins when his half-brother Amnon (David's first son) rapes Absalom's full sister, Tamar. Both Absalom and his mother, Maacah (and Tamar's mother; cf. 1 Chronicles 3:2), expected the king to do something when he was made aware of it. But David refused to provide justice in this case of sexual assault and abuse. You can see the obvious parallels to our contemporary context. Therefore, biding his time, Absalom killed his half-brother Amnon, the rapist, and fled the country for a while. He then led an unsuccessful revolt, where the handsome but hapless lad met his fate. David, then, has lost his child born to Bathsheba, lost his firstborn Amnon and lost his third son, Absalom, whom he loved dearly. Not to speak of the trauma inflicted upon his daughter, Tamar. There is no record that he shed tears over her rape. The story is touching because of David's sorrow for Absalom. What is missing is David's sorrow for Absalom's sister. No wonder Absalom, while campaigning for his father's job, said, "Your claims are good and right, but there is no one deputed by the king to hear you ... If only I were judge in the land! Then all who had a suit or cause might come to me and I would give them justice" (15:3-4).
Reading the story of David after his victorious rise to be king invites us to reflect upon the dark, uneasy world of family life, where the greatest can fall.[47] At this point, King David has public success and private tragedy. David wanted to preserve his kingdom, a kingdom that had brought prominence and power to Israel. Nevertheless, the cost of preserving his rule was higher than David imagined in the death of his son. This story lets us know that unhappiness, tragedy, and regret are part of loving and living in a family. There is regret and things do not turn out as we had planned. We cannot get everything together. We cannot make it all work out right.
Psalm 111 (Year B August 14-20) is part of an acrostic psalm that continues through Ps 112, each half verse beginning with the next letter of the alphabet, a hymn celebrating the works of the Lord in nature and history, thereby offering reasons to offer such praise. It has the characteristics of the wisdom school in Jerusalem. The attributes of the Lord, righteousness, mercy, and generosity, in 111, become attributes of the righteous in 112. It begins with the invitation to praise the Lord (hallelu-yah). The poet says he will offer his praise with the whole heart, all his passion and will, evoking images of the Shema in Deut 6:4-5, the fullness and exclusiveness of such devotion being a pre-condition of the covenant. The place in which he offers this praise is the company of the upright, which is the congregation of Israel. This poet knows the greatness of the Lord through the works of the Lord. Those who delight in the works of the Lord study them. This delight is faith, but a faith that leads that reaches beyond mere acknowledgement of them and leads to rational study of them. Modern readers of the Bible are prone to stereotyping ancient peoples as uniformly and unreflectively religious, but the text itself suggests a more nuanced set of beliefs among ancient Israel's population, ranging from atheism through skepticism to profound devotion to fanaticism. Study of the religious tradition, summarized in the Old Testament as the mighty deeds of the Lord, was a vital component of mainstream biblical thought, as it remains in Judaism today. The writers of the Bible never understood revelation simply as ecstatic possession. Revelation still calls those who see and hear to examine it rationally. Revelation must show itself to be a reasonable response to the hopes, fears, and questions of humanity. These wonderful deeds are splendid and glorious, showing the saving justice of the Lord forever. The poet then focuses upon the deeds of history that formed Israel, such as providing food for those who revere the Lord as in the wilderness wanderings, showing the Lord to be gracious and merciful. The Lord is always mindful of the covenant, and the poet has gratitude for the conquest of Canaan, which involved casting out the nations. The works of the Lord are faithful and fair, stable and trustworthy. This leads to the affirmation that the precepts of the Lord stated in Torah are also trustworthy forever. Those who want to have a firmly established life will do so in the Lord.[48] The people are to perform the precepts of Torah with faithfulness and uprightness. Acknowledgement of the deeds of the Lord is not enough, for the deeds of the Lord have a purpose in showing human beings the way to life. The poet has a concern for right living, and the Lord has shown Israel that way in the Torah. The Lord sent redemption and gave the covenant forever, which affirms the holy and awesome name of the Lord. Such reverence and awe for the Lord leads to wisdom and good understanding. The beginning of wisdom is to have such reverence and awe, which directs us to the creative and sustaining power of the Lord.[49] The praise of the Lord endures forever.
The emphasis of the psalm on wisdom prepares the way for the next phase of the Old Testament lesson, which will shift from King David to King Solomon.
I Kings 2:10-12, 3:3-14 (Year B August 14-20) contain a summary of the death of David and the rise of Solomon to be king, the public acclamation of Solomon as king, and his prayer for wisdom.
I Kings 2: 10-12, we have the summary of the reign of David, who had provided for the firm establishment of the kingdom in the rise of Solomon as king.
The story of the rise of kingship might derive from the period of Solomon, designed to make it clear that both David and Solomon had a legitimate claim to the throne. Abiathar the priest, as he was in David's court, may have compiled the material germane to Saul and David.
Respect for the biblical texts suggests taking seriously the divine promise to the House of David as it seeks to integrate the claims of religious and public life. Thus, the political organization of every community is for some common good and the political elements in that community possess authority because it is established to achieve that higher good.[50] The story of David is an ambiguous one, but the text seeks to integrate political realities with religious ideals. To focus only on the darker side of political power is to erase the ambiguity.
I Kings 3:4-14 is the prayer for wisdom by King Solomon. The context is a dream-vision, also related by Thothmos IV when he became king in the 1300s BC. Here is divine authentication of the Succession of Solomon. There needs to be legitimization of the kingship of Solomon. The people recognized the judges of Israel during the Tribal Federation period and David had a covenant at Hebron. However, the kingship of Solomon would be based upon the divine covenant with David and his descendants. This choice is in the context of the Lord’s choice of Israel. In Isaiah 9:7, we also have a reference to the throne of David, which will have endless peace since the Lord will establish it in justice and righteousness. The reference to a child born to rule is in 9:6. Isaiah 11 refers to a child arising from David who will have a spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel, and might. He will judge with righteousness and wear righteousness and faithfulness as if they were clothing. He says he is only a child, but that is difficult to verify in the text. Isaiah 9:6 refers to a child born to us. Solomon is making an entirely accurate statement of what he understands to be his main weakness as a monarch. Unlike his father the great warrior, Solomon has no military experience. To make matters worse, he has just executed the second-best general Judah ever had, namely, his uncle Joab. He embraces that he is a servant of the Lord, as was his father, placing the covenant with David in the larger context of the covenant of Yahweh with Israel. He asks for wisdom in making judgments to guide the people of the Lord. Isaiah 9:6 says a child born to govern will be a wonderful counselor. In Isaiah 11:2, the child from David will have a spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, and knowledge. His lack of experience in leading a people he hopes to balance with an infusion of divinely inspired wisdom. the solution to Solomon’s problems as a young man suddenly on the throne of his father’s kingdom is to pray to the Lord for wisdom. This is the first biblical passage in the canonical text to introduce this theme, which will become the hallmark of Solomon’s reign. In fact, the remaining account of his monarchy (I Kings 3-11) has repeated stories that highlight the wisdom of Solomon that made him world-famous and successful beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. The fact that he was not a warrior, then, was totally irrelevant given his ability to expand his kingdom through wise decisions about political balances internally (1 Kings 4; 9:15-28) and foreign alliances externally (1 Kings 3:1; 5; 10; 11:1-3). The Lord grants wisdom, riches, glory, and a long life, with 3:16-10:29 demonstrating how the Lord fulfilled these promises.
This passage finalizes the transition of royal power from David to Solomon. In context, Chapter 2 portrays Solomon as the shrewd political realist, while Solomon here is the humble seeker of wisdom. As is often the case in the character studies we find in the Bible, the text does not attempt to harmonize the complexities of the political leaders of Israel. The complex struggles within them are mirror the complexities within us. Clearly, the peaceful nature of the story here belies the bloody and destructive path that Solomon had to tread to succeed David on the throne. However, this gory background to Solomon’s ascension is not present in I Kings 3:4-14. The facts of David’s adultery with Bathsheba and his later responsibility for the death of her husband Uriah the Hittite are not mentioned. The subtle irony is that both Solomon and David are portrayed as perfectly pious here, when in fact both had serious theological and ethical flaws. Solomon appears as pious as was his father. The text simply does not point out the fact that both miss the mark of true faithfulness toward God. The content of Solomon’s prayer is humbler and more self-deprecating than one would expect on the lips of Israel’s first true empire builder. However, the actions taken on his part to consolidate his hold on power (executing his brother, his uncle, Saul’s remaining descendants, and exiling the priestly supporters of his rival, I Kings 2) depict him as a perceptive political operator. Even if those around Solomon orchestrated these actions, the text portrays him as one with steely resolve and a clear knowledge of what was required of him politically. Thanks to his humble prayer to God for wisdom, rather than for the selfish things others might have asked for in his place, Solomon appears here as a pious man who simply wants to serve God and knows that wisdom would be his best tool in that task. Readers must set aside the fact that he had already taken the lives of his enemies by his own hand prior to this encounter with God.
Wisdom requires knowledge, of course, but is also a matter of tapping into our intuition, imagination, and heart.[51] Wisdom is the inclination and ability to use our intelligence, knowledge, and understanding in creative and loving ways for the benefit of our fellow creatures. While the general wisdom of understanding the fundamental pragmatics of life and the human condition would seem to be easy to cultivate, personal and self-transcendent wisdom require an extended process of learning, practice and awareness of oneself and the world. Such self-transcendence requires listening to past and future generations. It takes time to gain that perspective. Much of that learning comes through experiences of hardship that, while not intentionally sought, serve to help wise people rethink how they see themselves and the world. The hard truth is that wisdom often comes at a price but is of inestimable value once gained. External circumstances like tragedy, grief, or pain are part of the hard path of wisdom. Departing from conventional wisdom and walking a different path is a hardship we place upon ourselves.
Psalm 84 (Year B August 21-27) is a song of Zion. It celebrates the pilgrimage to the Temple. The poet yearns to be in the presence of the Lord and rehearses every step of the way to Jerusalem.
First, the psalm begins with acknowledging the joy the sight of the Temple brings to the pilgrim. The worshiper has left the densely populated city behind and below, and has stepped into another world, a world intended, through its serene beauty, solemn rituals and Yahwistic teachings, to offer an alternative to the casual brutality of the business-as-usual world of daily living in the ancient world. The worshiper longs for the peace, beauty and righteous way of life represented by the Temple devoted to Israel’s God. The movement progresses from the outer courts to the altar, near which birds find a home, much as the poet wishes to find a home near to the Lord. One can almost imagine the poet entering the Temple area on a particular day and noticing with delight, as if for the first time, that birds also found a home around the altars in the courtyards of the Temple. Birds become part of the Temple worship, and the psalmist expresses his joy in the “at oneness” of it all. The poet finds a home in the altar of the Lord. He shows touching trustfulness.
Second, the poet offers encouragement to pilgrims. The devout experience of the pilgrimage has its challenges in the winter to participate in the festival of Sukkot, as prayers for rain are offered. Dangers and afflictions existed along the way, but the power of God was active to bring joy amid them. No matter how difficult the task, they got stronger. When human strength breaks down, faith receives divine strength.
Third, the poet offers intercession for the king. In referring to the God of Jacob, the connection with the Patriarchs is important and worth pausing to consider that the divine presence that led the Patriarchs abides in the Lord of the heavenly armies. The poet then prays for our shield/anointed one, that is, the king in Jerusalem.
Fourth, as the poet moves from a prayer for the king to the joy of presence in the Temple, we find a mysterious unity of soil, nation, and religious community. Devotion to the Temple leads to a desire to be there, even simply as a servant. In this festival experience, the poet experiences the Lord as a sun and shield, withholding no good thing to those whose desire of the heart are right-minded. Enjoying the presence of the and goodness of the Lord extends beyond the temple, inviting persons to relax in the Lord as one dwells there.
The psalm connects with the Old Testament lesson by its emphasis on pilgrimage to the Temple, devotion to the Temple, and a prayer for the shield/the anointed king.
I Kings 8: (1, 6, 10-11), 22-30, 41-43 (Year B August 21-27) is part of the story of Solomon that includes depositing the Ark in the Temple, the dedication of the Temple, and a prayer by Solomon. The author opens by describing the depositing of the Ark in the Temple and the dedication of the temple. The formal dedication ceremonies consisted of moving the Ark and attendant items from a tent where they had been kept since the days of David, joyful celebration, public sacrifices, prayers, and speeches. The sacred objects had to be carried up to the Temple, which had been constructed on a hill north of the city. A broad consensus among historians and archeologists maintains that the Temple was built beneath the platform around the Dome of the Rock and in the surrounding area. They celebrated the kingship of the Lord. It was a time of renewing the covenant with the Lord established through Moses. Cherubim were carved representations of scary winged beings that, in covering the ark, formed a throne for the Lord’s glorious presence. The text strains to express the mystery of divine presence. It invites us to ponder this mystery as well. The ancient tradition of the Ark resonates with the sense that divine presence is mighty, unfathomable, and beyond control. The Ark is handled with the greatest reverence. The priests carry the Ark, and sacrifices accompany the procession of this powerful and mysterious presence. The cloud is a metaphor signifying this overwhelming presence of Lord, as in Exodus 33:9, in which filling the house of the Lord alludes to traditions about the Tabernacle in Ex 40:34-5.
A cloud symbolizing divine presence is an interesting one. The cloud suggests divine presence is mysterious and confuses rather than enlightening and giving clarity. It suggests that we do not see the Lord quite as clearly as we think. Yet this mysterious, cloudy, unknown presence is kindly disposed toward human beings. We are fearful and anxious creatures. It comes naturally. We often assume the unknown is a danger. Our experiences have taught us this. However, the Bible assures us that in the case of divine presence, its unknown, mysterious, and cloudy presence is a gracious one. Solomon goes on to say, “I have built you an exalted house, a place for you to dwell in forever.” This is an expression of personal piety. The concept is that the Temple is the place where God dwells. We see here the tension in the Old Testament between the Lord dwelling in heaven, yet also having a dwelling on earth. This poetic declaration shows the religious truth of God as creator of the universe, unbounded by human efforts, yet is also near in power. It expresses a mystery of God that surpasses revelation. The attribute of the Infinity of God shows a tension between the transcendent God as also present in creation. How is transcendence compatible with earthly presence? In the Old Testament, we see the tension expressed between God enthroned in heaven and has a dwelling on earth. In this case, the poetic verse of Solomon has a mild form of this tension in that the name of God dwells in the temple, while God is enthroned in heaven. The building of the temple required justification since God dwells in heaven. [52] Thus, it would be a mistake to think of Solomon as trying to fix the presence of the Lord to the Temple. He is aware of the tension of the transcendent mystery and the need to have the Lord nearby. In any case, it would be well to ponder where either the experience of transcendent mystery and power or the experience of the nearness of the Lord are part of our experience.
The prayer focuses on the covenant with David, rather than deliverance from Egypt. Solomon performs a priestly function throughout this prayer. In its canonical context, speeches of Moses, Joshua, and Samuel, and now Solomon. In the ancient world, the proper posture for petitionary prayer was standing erect with raised hands, a posture represented in drawings from Israel, Assyria, and Egypt. Solomon introduces his petition by suggesting that if he has met conditions presented by the Lord in the dream at Gibeon, the Lord should fulfill the conditional promise to David about his descendants (2:4) which would include a long life for Solomon. The prayer now moves from David to the accessible presence of the Lord through the Temple. Given that in this prayer, Solomon is kneeling (verse 54), that we go directly from verse 26 to verse 62 seamlessly, that verse 55 has him standing to bless the people again (verse 14) and calling for the restoration of Israel to the land (verse 34), many scholars think this prayer is inserted into this context. In its present context, the section dilutes the aura of the immanence of God cast by the materialistic physicality of the speech of Solomon in verses 12-26. The prayer moves from David to the accessible presence of the Lord through the Temple. The tent was a symbol of how the Lord moved about among all the people of Israel. However, even in the passage before us, the Temple is not large enough to contain the presence of God. The text provides a wonderful opportunity to talk about the purpose of the physical place of worship for the people of the Lord. This prayer asks God to honor the repentance of the people. It is a long and meditative prayer. The rhetorical question of will God dwell on the earth challenges the notion expressed in verses 12-13 that God now has an actual presence on earth in the Temple. It harmonizes the notion of the immanence of the presence of the Lord in the Temple with the transcendence of the Lord. The transcendence of God is compatible with earthly presence, pictured here as the name of God dwelling in the Temple while the throne of God is in heaven.[53] This is a more abstract conception qualifies the notion that God would dwell in the Temple (verse 13). It suggests a way that the transcendent God is with us. The name is a symbolic extension of personal authority and presence, even in the absence of the person named. This manner of understanding divine presence communicates the freedom of God and points to the faithful presence of God within Israel. God is with us in freedom. Human action in the form of a building or ritual cannot contain God. Solomon can only ask of God and wait for the response. He also trusts in the remarkable connectedness of God to Israel. Neither heaven nor earth can contain God, which suggests the omnipresence of God. Yet, God dwells anywhere in a way unique to God, and not in a way that that we might dwell.[54] Such meditative prayer asserts that God, truly present in heaven, resides only symbolically on earth in the Temple. Yet, prayers should be directed to the Temple. The language is that of Deuteronomy 6:13, 12:4, 11. It attempts to harmonize the Deuteronomic notion of divine immanence in the Temple with the contrasting notion of the universal transcendence of God.
In verses 41-43, the prayer has an expansive vision of other nations worshiping the Lord. 41 “Likewise when a foreigner, who is not of your people Israel, comes from a distant land because of your name 42 —for they shall hear of your great name, your mighty hand, and your outstretched arm (Deuteronomy 4:34, 5:15, etc.) —when a foreigner comes and prays toward this house, 43 then hear in heaven your dwelling place (Deuteronomy 26:15), and do according to all that the foreigner calls to you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel (Deuteronomy 21:8, 26:15), and so that they may know that your name has been invoked on this house, that I have built, an expression of personal piety. The post-exilic prophet III Isaiah noted that foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, minister to the Lord, love the name of the Lord, become servants of the Lord, keep Sabbath, and keep the covenant, would have joy in the house of prayer. The Lord will accept their sacrifices, for the Temple will become a house of prayer for all peoples (Isaiah 56:6-7). We find a similar sentiment affirmed by Jesus in the “cleansing of the Temple” story of Jesus in Mark 11:17.
[1] Max Weber et al., The Vocation Lectures (Hackett Pub., 2004), p. 86.
[2] Aristotle, Politics, 1252a1-1252a7.
[3] The Beginning of Politics: Power in the Biblical Book of Samuel. Moshe Halbertal and Stephen Holmes. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2017.
[4]
[5]
[6] Baruch Halpern (David’s Secret Demons: Messiah, Murder, Traitor, King, 2001)
[7] Under a theory I happen to like, prophetic legend and the development of what we might think of as saints occurs in the 750-721 BC period. The influence is from the same circle who put together the E Document in the Pentateuch. The story is more like a saga, even if some historical elements remain. Such stories attach to specific persons because of who they are, showing how unique and close to the Lord they were.
[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 443.
[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 9.
[10] in the Anchor Bible (1984)
[11] Irvin D. Yalom, Existential Psychotherapy, 1980, referring to Viktor Frankl.
[12]
[13]
[14] James L. Mays, Psalms, in the Interpretation commentary series, 405, 407.
[15] Using the noun-form of the Hebrew root.
[16] Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address
[17] Paul Ricoeur on death as a limit experience.
[18] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 50.
[19]
[20] Read more at: http://www.nationalreview.com/article/420719/christians-celebrate-july-4-same-sex-marriage-patriotism
[21]
[22]
[23]
[24]
[25] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume I, 436.
[26] The Hebrew word bayit (pronounced "BUY-it") appears 15 times in the chapter; the NRSV translates it as "house" every time. But, depending on the context, bayit actually means palace, temple or dynasty (elsewhere it can mean clan, family or nation, as in "the 'house' of Judah"). Bayit becomes beth- when it's immediately followed by a noun it's (technically speaking) "in construct with." Beth- is used as a part of place names, such as Beth-el ("the house of God" -- Genesis 28:15-19) and Beth-lehem ("house of bread" -- Genesis 35:19; Micah 5:2 = Matthew 2:6. Jesus is the bread of life -- John 6:32-35, 48).
[27] Walter Brueggemann (David’s Truth in Israel’s Imagination and Memory)
[28]
[29] Systematic Theology Volume 1, 260.
[30] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 50.
[31] Systematic Theology Volume 2, 317.
[32] Systematic Theology Volume 2, 364.
[33] —Walter Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (John Knox Press, 1990), 257–259.
[34] "Our passional nature not only lawfully may, but must, decide an option between propositions, whenever it is a genuine option that cannot by its nature be decided on intellectual grounds; for to say, under such circumstances, 'Do not decide, but leave the question open,' is itself a passional decision, -- just like deciding yes or no, -- and is attended with the same risk of losing the truth" (11).
[35] (Barth 2004, 1932-67) II.2 [35.2] 376.
[36] It is unclear if Bathsheba slept with David willingly. He inquires about her and is told that she is married, but still, the text says, he sent messengers and "to get her" (v. 4). The next phrase in the Hebrew says "and she came to him." The Greek, however, says, "and he entered her," thus eliminating the phrase that makes it seem that Bathsheba was willing to sleep with David. Even without this reading, however, the story makes it clear that David, as king, had the power to summon this woman by sending people to take her from her home, and then to sleep with her. The same expression, "he seized her ... and lay with her" is also used in Genesis 34 to describe what commentators usually call the "Rape of Dinah." Considering all this, it is possible to conclude that adultery was not David's only sin in this episode.
[37] James 1:13-15 13 When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone;14 but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed.15 Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full–grown, gives birth to death.
[38] Michael Horton, president of Christians United for Reformation, National & International Religion Report 10 (29 April 1996), 8.
[39] Mary Pickford inspired this thought.
[40] Inspired by an exchange Pope Benedict had with a boy regarding frequent confession.
[41] George Herbert (1593-1633), poet and cleric.
[42] The Faces of Forgiveness, LeRon Shults and Steven Sandage.
[43] (Barth 2004, 1932-67) II.2 [35.2] 381.
[44] James L. Mays, Psalms, in the Interpretation commentary series, 405, 407.
[45] Leslie S. McCaw and J. A. Motyer ( “Psalms,” The New Bible Commentary: Revised, 533).
[46] Using the noun-form of the Hebrew root.
[47] Poet Randall Jarrell
[48] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 136.
[49] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.1 [30.3] 430.
[50] Aristotle, Politics, 1252a1-1252a7.
[51] Frederick Buechner weighs in on wisdom, saying, “Wisdom is a matter not only of the mind but of the intuition and heart.”
[52]
[53]
[54]
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