Psalms 87 to 98

The last installment of Psalms took us into the second half.  Now for the next psalm cluster:

PSALM 87

This is a short psalm – just seven verses.  And I got probably less out of it than any psalm in the Bible so far.  Actually, that’s a rather impressive achievement, considering how quickly I’m blowing through many of these. 

It’s about Zion.  Apparently, it’s a nice place.

PSALM 88

This psalm is the opposite of Psalm 86.  Whereas that is a psalm of confident devotion by one who has survived the bad times, this is a psalm of utter despair by someone feeling desolate. 

Everything is wrong for this guy.  The Lord is his salvation, but he feels that God has abandoned him.  Only God can help him, but God has hidden his face from the psalmist.  He wails, “Why do you reject my soul, Lord?”  Ouch. He feels numb from God’s wrath.  He still turns to God for help, but since God isn’t responding, the psalm concludes with the line, “My only friend is darkness.”  That’s as dark and depressing a final line in any psalm.  It’s as dark and depressing as any line in the psalms.

Also, here’s an interesting quirk – he feels everyone is turning away from him because of God.  “Because of you my acquaintances shun me.”  This is intriguing.  Sure there is a tradition in the psalms of everyone abandoning the psalmist because of his religion, but usually they’re portrayed as evil people of bad guys or something one-dimensional.  Here it’s different – it’s people he knows, who presumably are also Hebrew.

So why do they abandon the writer?  Maybe they sense that God has also abandoned him.  Perhaps, but that doesn’t make them look good, and would also be a reason to leave this poem out of psalms altogether.

I have another idea.  It could be a psalm by the prophet Jeremiah.  He is known to be a writer.  Richard Elliot Friedman argues that Jeremiah is the likely writer of theDueteronomic history (Deuteronomy, plus Joshua, Judges, the two Samuels, and the two Kings) and this psalm steals the line about God hiding his face from that.

Also, Jeremiah was a profoundly lonely prophet.  He preached doom and darkness – Jeremiads, we call such speeches after him – and no one wants to hear that.  This could be Jeremiah wondering about how he’s alienated people by being a prophet and now he’s lost God’s ear.  Ouch.  Also, Jeremiah lived through the conquest of Judea and was among those who fled to Egypt.  Maybe this was written then.

It could be something totally different, but I like to think that this is a psalm by Jeremiah.

PSALM 89

This is a nice long psalm that closes out the third book of psalms.  It is long – 53 verses – and it is nice.  It’s a lamentation over the loss of the independent kingdom.  It’s an interesting combination of mournful/personal and philosophical/historical.

OK, God – you made a covenant with David to let his family rule forever and ever.  That’s the first part of the psalm.  And really, who can compare with the Lord?  The second part of the psalm.  Actually, it occasionally shows a belief in multiple gods: “Who in the skies ranks with the Lord?  Who is like the Lord among the sons of the gods?  A God dreaded in the council of the holy ones, greater and more awesome than all those around him!”  If you read that, while it both praises God and his power, it indicates that there are more gods, just not as impressive ones.

So we’ve gotten that there’s been a vow to David and that it was the God of gods who made the vow.  So now we’ll take it back to David.  He’s the one God chose, and his family shall rule forever.  So now comes the twist – what happened?  We no longer have a kingdom!  How can this happen?

It’s not that God violated the covenant with David, but the Israelites violated their covenant with God.  Thus the kingdom fell.  So this psalm thus explains how Israel could fall if God had said David’s family could rule forever.  And it ends on a personal note, with pleading for how long will God hide from his people?  Will he ever show them his former mercy? 

Well, the actual last lines praise God, but the main emotional thrust is one of mourning – but it has enough sense to curry favor with the big man at the end.

PSALM 90

This kicks off the fourth book of psalms, and it’s the shortest book, covering just psalms 90 to 106.

It’s a decent psalm, with the main focus being the immensity of God.  His anger is consuming, his power is so massive, no one can comprehend him.  It’s another psalm apparently written during the Babylonian Captivity as it ends with a plea for God to relent.  I guess that is one reason it notes how God is beyond anyone’s comprehension.  Because if he wasn’t, then you have to explain the lost of Jerusalem, but since he is beyond, just because you can’t understand him doesn’t mean he ain’t, y’know, God. 

This psalm is introduced by saying it’s, “A prayer of Moses, the man of God” but it’s apparently not the same Moses as Exodus. 

PSALM 91

It’s a psalm praising God.  Yeah, another one like that.  Most of it is pretty standard stuff but I think it oversells its case.  It gives the standard testament to how God will rescue you and God will shelter you if you believe.  Then it flatly declares, “No evil shall befall you, no affliction come near your tent.”  C’mon.  Believe that believe in God still suffer downfalls. Religion is supposed to help you pull through those periods, not avoid having them altogether.

The last stanza is different, though.  It’s from the point of view of God.  The psalm doesn’t telegraph in advance that it’s changing point of view from the psalmist to the Lord, but that’s what it does.  You just have to figure out while reading it that all the “I”s here only makes sense if God is saying them.

PSALM 92

This one is called “A Hymn of Thanksgiving for God’s Fidelity.”  That’s a nice pleasant title, but it really isn’t a very pleasant psalm.  It falls into the standard trap of psalms – it becomes more concerned with punishing enemies than anything else.  We’re told sinners are destined for eternal destruction and that all your enemies shall perish, and be scattered.  In fact, the psalmist really seems to get off on this, as he writes, “My eyes look with glee on my wicked enemies; my ears shall hear what happens to my wicked foes.”  It’s the same old damn good-evil, black/white worldview that ruins many psalms.  I have no use for shit like this.

PSALM 93

Time for a five-verse psalm.  It’s called “God Is a Mighty King” and it is entirely about God and his might.  There is nothing else here; it’s just praising God.  I find the Bible the best when it’s about humans, and this has nothing to do that. 

Meh.  Next. 

PSALM 94

Next is one of those psalms I absolutely loathe.  It’s not just a good people versus bad people pure black/white psalm, but it’s one primarily focusing on (and taking joy in) the punishment of the wicked.  Good thing the wicked aren’t complex people with their own motivations.  Good thing they are just y’know, one-dimensional stick figures of evil.  I bet they go around all the time tying damsels to railroad tracks and laughing maniacally.

Well, here the attributes of the evil are: despising the Lord (of course), being proud, mouthing haughty speeches, and boasting.  What I do find interesting is the presentation of the evil as those in power, the people with all the real control, and the righteous few on bottom need to appeal to God to straighten things out.

OK.  I can understand a cry for giving those haughty blowhards on top a comeuppance.  But the psalm completely loses me when it calls for them to be crushed, for them to be put into a pit for the wicked.  Psalms of vengeance aren’t my thing.

Actually, this psalm may have lost me even before that.  This psalm reminds me of much of what I don’t like about organized and politicized Christianity in the modern world. There’s a division of the world into black-and-white, a clear and overwhelming assumption that they’re on the side of God (while at the same time damning the others for being prideful), and last but not least a massive persecution complex.  This seems like the official psalm for those that parrot the line about a War Against Christmas.  I have no use for this.

PSALM 95

This is just another psalm of praise of God.  It’s fairly standard stuff.  The last stanza shifts to God’s point of view, which would be more interesting if I hadn’t read the same thing in Psalm 91.

One other thing of note here – the psalm apparently believes in multiple gods.  It refers to God as “the great king over all gods.”  It then just says he’s “our God.”  So Hebrew religion didn’t really start as monotheism but polytheism.  He was the only God they were supposed to worship, and he was also the most powerful God.  That’s nice. But as long as there was a polytheistic tradition, there was a desire to worship other gods with idols and all that.  So eventually the religion evolved into a belief in monotheism.  But you can see traces of the old polytheism in many parts of the Bible, including here.

PSALM 96

This is another psalm that just praises God.  So I don’t have any overt problem with it, but as a non-believer I don’t have much to say about it.

There are some nice elements here.  Most notably, we’re told that God stands for fairness, justice, and faithfulness.  That’s nice.  It’s good that God isn’t just powerful, but also a good guy who stands for the right thing. (The Bible – the original Superman comic!)

Also, there is an interesting line indicating that there are other gods – God is “to be feared above all gods” immediately followed by a line indicating that there are no other gods, “For the gods of the nations are idols.”  Actually, now that I think about it, that doesn’t really mean the other gods don’t exist.  That just means that their gods take physical form.  That’s the context the Hebrew religion grew out of.  They just took it to another level, and later monotheism developed out of it. 

But if God is all-powerful and is – as the top of this psalm says, “Lord of all earth” – why does he just have one people he looks after?  If he’s really God of all earth, shouldn’t he be concerned with all earth?

PSALM 97

It’s another psalm about how great God is.  It notes that justice and right are his foundation.  That’s nice.  It sure beats the psalms that say his foundation is power.  But this one also talks about God’s power, most notably a line stating, “The mountains melt like wax before the Lord.”  Nice imagery there.  People who serve idols are idiots serving worthless objects.  Hurrah for God!

PSALM 98

This one is called “The Coming of God” and even though I’m trying to pay attention to each psalm, within five minutes of reading it, I’d forgotten what was in it. The short version is that this is another psalm praising how great God is.  Yeah, there’s been a run of those psalms lately.  

Click here for the next psalm dump.

Samuel II: Chapters 13 to 19

Last time, David met Bathsheba and the Lord wasn't pleased.  This time, things continue to go badly for David.

CHAPTER 13

Now the karmic payback of David gets nastier.  It starts off with the vile behavior by David’s first born, Amnon.  He has the hots for his half-sister, Tamar.  So with the help of a friend, he devises a plan to rape her.  Yeah – rape and incest all at once.  And once he rapes her, he has no more use for her, in a classic case of blaming the victim.

So Tamar’s full-brother Absalom plots revenge on behalf of his traumatized sister.  He waits until Amnon is drunk at a banquet and then has his servants kill him. 

By the way, David is uncharacteristically passive and slow-thinking while all this is going on.  I dunno – maybe he’s a bad dad or he’s too mild with his kids or he’s just past his prime, but he keeps wrong footing himself here.  For example, when he finds out about Amnon’s rape of Tamar – David’s own daughter, mind you – David elects to do nothing.  Sure, he’s infuriated, but Amnon is the firstborn.  What the hell kind of excuse is that?

Later, David really should be able to see Absalom’s plot coming.  First Absalom urges his father to attend a sheep shearing with him.  When David repeatedly declines, Absalom requests the Amnon go instead.  David agrees, and he really should know better than that.  Tamar is living in Abaslom’s house at the time – does he really think it’s a good idea to let these two alone together?

There’s also a question of Absalom’s character.  Later Biblical chapters will get more into it, but for now I’ll just note that once word gets out the Absalom has killed Amnon, all of David’s other sons flee the capital.  Now why would they do that?  Why wouldn’t they assume that Absalom was just avenging his sister?  Why would they think it was something much bigger?  Maybe they knew something about Absalom’s character (and sure enough, Absalom will try a coup later on).  Then again – if they think this of Absalom, why does David seem to be in the dark? 

David is upset of Amnon’s death, but opts not to go after Absalom who flees to another king. 

Random side note: the murder of Amnon takes place off stage.  Absalom tells his servants his plan and then the Bible just says, “When the attendants did to Amnon as Absalom had commanded.”  It’s like there is a verse missing.

CHAPTER 14

Here, David and Absalom are reunited.  Oddly enough, it’s engineered by army head Joab, a man not previously known for his savvy, just for his fighting.  Joab gets to see a wise woman – her name is not given, another of the notable Biblical character not ever name.  And he uses her to go to David with a story (that serves as a parable).  Short version: her husband is dead, one son has murdered the other, and the villagers wanted him stoned.  Can you please help me, king?  Sure, David thinks its only right to keep the family line going. 

Then she goes on and makes an analogy of her situation with David himself.   How can he deprive Israel of a new possible king?  She gets off a great line, “We must indeed die, we are then like water that is poured out in the ground and cannot be gathered up.”  It makes more sense in context, trust me.  (She’s saying Israel is like that if it doesn’t have a king).  Now, there is a clear problem with this analogy, though: David has other sons. We just heard them fleeing last chapter, and we’ve been given some names earlier, most notably Solomon. 

Also, David does wise up for a second and figure this one out.  In fact, he point blank asks her if Joab put her up to this.  I guess Joab and Absalom got along.  (Maybe not – Joab will soon put down Absalom’s rebellion. SPOILER!)  It’s nice to see David ask savvy here after his Chapter 13 fog.  At any rate, she admits Joab’s involvement and David agrees to pardon Absalom.

David pardons him, but will not see him.  So Absalom, after three years in exile, spends two in Jerusalem without seeing his dad.  But he is rather willful.  He pesters Joab about seeing his dad and when Joab ignores him, Absalom shows how willful he can be.  Absalom orders his servants to set fire to Joab’s field.  Whoah!  I didn’t see that coming.  But it forces Joab to talk with Absalom.  Why Absalom thinks that’ll help get his word to his father is beyond me, but apparently Absalom knows the principles better than I do, because it works.

And so Absalom is fully pardoned by David.  He sees his son and kisses him. 

Let’s pause before going on with the chapter.  Absalom has clearly proved to be a dangerous person.  He’s killed one brother.  OK, he had a decent vengeance reason, but then again all remaining brothers fled town as soon as they heard what he’d done, so maybe they were already afraid of him.  Now Absalom has engaged in arson as a minor strategic point to get his way.  And he did so because he was bitter and upset about not being able to see his dad for years.

He’s bitter, upset, willing to use violence – and David doesn’t recognize any possible threat.  David has a blind spot with his children, doesn’t he?

CHAPTER 15

Absalom doesn’t strike right away.  Instead, he prepares smartly.  He wins over friends among the Israelis.  He sits at the city gates and convinces people he’d be a good judge.  He does the meet-and-greet.  He’s good at the ancient Hebrew version of kissing babies and shaking hands.

Now it’s time to act.  This part is actually a little confusing.  He gets David’s OK to go to Hebron.  Man, again David with the mistake.  200 go with, but the Bible says they knew nothing of any conspiracy.  (OK then, who did know of the conspiracy?) People start joining Absalom en route.  Maybe these are the actual conspirators and it’s designed to look like momentum is gaining.  Well, that’s how it comes out.

David hears about the crowd gathering around Absalom and immediately freaks out, ordering all his staff to abandon Jerusalem or none of them will escape Absalom.  OK, first it’s nice to see David wake up to a danger presented by one of his kids.  Second, the conspiracy still seems murky to me.  Because people are traveling with him (on a journey David OK’d)?  There hasn’t been any actual act yet. But David is smarter than me here, because it is a conspiracy.

Once the decision has been made to leave, we get a few chapters of David at his best.  It’s not the youthful, Goliath-killing David of yore, but a reflective, wise, and merciful David.  He’s often a likable and engaging character, but never more so than when he’s on the run here.

He tells one guy named Ittai the Gittite that it’s OK if he wants to leave.  Ittai doesn’t.  Even in David’s time of desperation, he’s still trying to think of others.  That’s nice.  He orders the priests and the ark to stay behind.  This is brilliant two-fold.  First, the priests will serve as moles for him, giving him a sense of what’s going on in Jerusalem once Absalom shows up.  Second, I love his rationale for letting the ark stay.  If God is with me, I’ll come back for it, but if he’s against me, then why take it?

David’s cockiness of the Bathsheba period has been tempered.  He’s recognized that he’s sinned.  He knows he’s done wrong.  And he can even see this as his cosmic comeuppance for doing wrong.  So even though he is literally in a fight for his life, there is a certain calmness and sensitivity to him that’s endearing.  After he had Uriah the Hittite killed, who saw David becoming endearing and sensitive?  He may have broken bad, but now he’s breaking back.

Well, he may seem calm, but he’s also weeping the entire time he leaves.  That isn’t very kingly.  The men should be looking up to him for strength.  On a personal note it’s engaging but its also bad leadership.  He’s also barefoot, which I find strange.  If he could gather up his army, couldn’t he also gather up a pair of sandals?

David makes one more brilliant decision before leaving.  He tells his best advisor to stay behind to advice Absalom.  That gives David a mole in the royal court itself, and someone to mess up the kid with bad advice.  It’s arguably this move that saves his kingdom.

CHAPTER 16

David is on the run and meets two very different receptions from two people.  The first gives his men donkeys and supplies.  That’s nice.  The second one isn’t nice at all.

Let’s look at the second guy, because this is one of the best moments in the Bible.  The guy is Shimei, and he has a grudge.  He’s related to Saul, and he blames David for everything bad that happened to Saul and Israel.  He’s cursing David the entire time he passes, never mind that David is traveling with an army. 

Some men tell David – look, boss, we got lots of swords here.  Whadaya say we shut this guy up permanently?  Here is where David is at his best – his most thoughtful, his most sensitive – and also his most aware of his own failings.  And all that leads to a clear statement of mercy on his part.  He first tells his men, let the man talk.  What do we care?  In fact, he takes it further to see maybe the Lord has told him to curse me.  Who should interfere with him for doing that? 

This is fascinating because often the Bible portrays things like everything is some sort of sports contest.  Our guys are the good guys!  They are the bad guys!  Therefore, anything done by Us is allowable because we’re the good guys.  So let Joshua commit a serious of genocides – let’s celebrate!  Let Samson kill many Philistines for little reason.  Let’s celebrate because he’s Our Guy killing Them!

But here you get not just someone but the most important character since Moses realizing that life is black hats verses white hats.  Instead, we all wear shades of gray.  And David certainly hopes he’s the good guy.  He certainly hopes that God is on his side.  He’s not going to give up.  But he’ll open himself up to the possibility that this might not be the case. 

David has learned wisdom.  As horrible as his sinning and unforgivable the treatment of Uriah the Hittite was, David has taken that to be wiser.  And he’s using that wisdom to display mercy and tolerance towards others.  David is engaging in a highly unexpected personal redemption. 

In fact, David goes on and tells his men, “If my own son, who came forth from my loins, is seeking my life, how much more might this Benjamite so do!  Let him alone and let him curse, for the Lord has told him to.  Perhaps the Lord will look upon my affliction and repay me with good for the curses he is uttering this day.” 

He’s hoping to achieve redemption and salvation before the Lord by undergoing suffering.  That’s a theme that will really resonate in the New Testament. 

Actually, as much as I’ve got on David for his seeming foggy approach to his children in the previous chapters, this is really the same sort of approach here.  How can I upbraid Amnon for raping his sister? Look at what I did to Uriah!  How can I have Absalom put to death for what he did?  Look at what I’ve done!  David is not without sin, so he won’t cast the first stone.

Also, it reminded me of something a young Abraham Lincoln once wrote.  He was asked to write the epithet for an old Indian who had just died.  He said (and I don’t quite remember the Indian’s name and maybe a bit off on the wording, but oh well): “Lord, be kind do Johnny Kick-a-pot, just as you would want Johnny Kick-a-pot to be to you, if you were Johnny Kick-a-pot, and Johnny Kick-a-pot was You.”  (The name had a cadence like Kick-a-pot, OK?) Both with Lincoln there and David here, there is a nice sense of empathy – a sense of putting yourself in the other person’s shoes. 

This is one of the greatest chapters of the entire Bible.  It’s up there with Chapter 18 of Genesis when Abraham debated God over Sodom and Gomorrah. 

Oh, and the chapter isn’t over.  Absalom makes it to Jerusalem and falls immediately into David’s trap by accepting the mole advisor.  But Absalom’s real advisor gives him this advice: take the 10 concubines David left behind to take charge of the household in his absence and fuck them all.  That’s the ultimate sign of possession.  It’s what Reuben did to Jacob to anger him so.  Oh, and do it in public so everyone knows about it.  That will discourage David’s friends but good. 

So Absalom does it.  Two things: 1) 10 in one day?  My golly he’s an energetic lad!  Second, the Bible says he orders a tent put up on the roof for the mass raping. The Bible’s exact phrase: “So a tent was pitched on the roof.”  So a tent was pitched?  Is that the origin of that euphemism for an erection?

CHAPTER 17

Still in Jerusalem, the real advisor tells Absalom to strike while the iron is hot – go after David tonight.  But the mole advisor cautions against.  David and his men are good fighters.  Better to gather all forces you have before proceeding.  Absalom then loses the war by trusting the wrong guy.  The real advisor takes it rather hard.  He quits, goes home, and hangs himself.  Man, I know his advice is correct, but this is an overreaction.  If you react this strongly, it means you’re too sure of your own opinions.  He’s right in this case, but it really contrasts with how David is conducting himself.

Anyhow, messengers are sent to David.  They get there, but not after a hideout in a well that sounds like it inspired several movie chases.  (I’m thinking of Battle of Algiers, but I’m sure it’s been in others).  Once David knows what his son will do, he knows how to act. 

CHAPTER 18

Now for the fight.  David first intends to go out with his army, but his soldiers won’t have it, saying he is worth 10,000 of them.  (I don’t know if it’s intended, but that reminds me of the line “Saul has kills his thousands / And David his tens of thousands.”  He’s still a five-digit man, all these years later).  He agrees to stay behind, leaving his army in three groups, one led by Joab, another by Joab’s brother, and the last by Ittai the Gittite, who said he’d stay after David encouraged him to leave a few chapters earlier.

David has just one order: be gentle with Absalom.  I have mixed feelings here.  On a personal note, this is touching that David still shows mercy to his son, even after all the son has done.  It fits in with how he’s handled his previous problems with his sons, but actually expands it.  Now the transgression is against not Tamar or the firstborn, but David himself, yet he still cautious restraint in how the kid is treated.

That’s one reaction.  The other is simply put – David, that’s dumb.  He’s pushing mercy to and past the breaking point.  Letting someone off the hook who doesn’t feel he has any reason to be forgiven is just playing the patsy.  Also, as king he has to think like a king instead of a father sometimes.  That’s harsh, but it’s true. 

In battle, David’s forces win, but the real action happens with Absalom.  He is removed from his mule in bizarre manner.  The mule goes over some branches and Absalom is caught by his hair in the tree.  The hell? I’m reminded of a Far Side cartoon.  The caption read “Nature scenes we rarely see” and the drawing was of a deer jumping over a log but getting its horns caught in a branch.  That’s what happened here.

Some of David’s men see him, and report it to Joab. A great little exchange ensues.  Joab says they should’ve killed Absalom, and then Joab would just have rewarded them.  The men replied – hey, don’t play us for saps.  We know that David’s only command was to be gentle to Absalom.  If we kill him and report it back to David, he’ll be infuriated with us and you’ll just sit off on the side twiddling your thumbs. 

That’s great.  Everyone wants the kid dead (but David, of course).  But everyone wants someone else to take responsibility. Joab wished they’d done it on their own, and they’re not about to be the fall guy.  Hey, Joab – if you want the kid dead, then take your military command butt over there and do it yourself. 

And Joab does.  I’ll say this for Joab, when he sees someone he thinks should be killed, he’s always willing to do the killing.  He spears Absalom.  (Technically, Joab’s assistants finish him off, but it’s all on Joab).  Then again, as military commander, Joab has enough status to ride this one out with the boss). 

Now someone has to tell David.  Two messengers are sent.  The first just with the news of victory in the field.  The second has the bad news.  It’s a sad and somewhat pathetic scene.  David sees a runner in the field by himself and says if it’s just one man running it must be good news.  And so it is – we won!  Then he sees a second man in the field and figures it’s also good news.  He also says that they won the battle.  But David responds to the second guy exactly as he had to the first guy.  After hearing the statement, he immediately asks, “Is young Absalom all right?”  The first guy didn’t know, but the second guy says, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rebel against you with evil intend be as that young man!” 

That’s a formalized way of saying Absalom is dead.  And you say it so formalized to cushion the blow.   Not that David feels at all cushioned, but that’s the next chapter.  The news ends Chapter 18.

CHAPTER 19

David is horrified.  He calls out for his son time and again – and loudly for all to hear.  His soldiers come back and see the king wailing, and lose heart and feel ashamed.  David keeps crying out again and again for his late son Absalom.

This is too much of Joab. David is taking it too far, and if there is anyone willing to give some tough talk and hard truths to David, it’s Joab.  He tells the king, essentially to man up, Nancy boy.  Grow a pair.  He berated David for making all his soldiers look and feel bad.  Does David care that Absalom wanted to kill him and all his other sons and his wives and the king himself?  It doesn’t look like it.

Joab, who typically comes off like the thuggish tough guy (maybe that’s just the lingering impression of his killing Abner, but that’s the lasting impression of him – until now) really states things memorably.  He berates David, ‘you have put all your servants to shame today by loving those who hate you and hating those who love you.  For you have announced today that officers and servants are nothing to you.  Indeed I am now certain that if Absalom were alive today and all of us dead, that would be fine with you.”  WOW!  That’s harsh – and absolutely dead on.  David is wallowing in his misery and the king can’t do that; especially when he feels misery over the death of the man he just fought.  Then Joab gives the king an order: “Get up!  Got out and speak kindly to your servants.”  And so David does so. 

While I really liked David’s soft approach during the rebellion, Joab’s harder tone here is perfect.

Now it’s time to reconcile with Israel.  Many had sided with Absalom, after all.  First David reconciles with his own tribe of Judah.  That makes sense.  He wins their hearts, we’re told.

Next comes the fun one: Shimei.  He’s the man who cursed at David back in Chapter 16.  Now he comes to the Jordan River to throw himself before the king and beg forgiveness for his misdeeds.  David’s aids have a simple answer: screw ‘im!  Kill him, boss!  But David isn’t like that these days.  “Should anyone die today in Israel?”, he says.  He knows he’s king, but again – he’s more reflective and forgiving that he was in his young days.  He pardons Shemi.

Continuing on, David comes to Meribbaal, the son of Jonathan who has eaten as David’s table these many years.  (The Bible calls him son of Saul here, but he’s always been the son of Jonathan previously).  David wants to know why Meribbaal didn’t come with and Meribbaal apologies.  David, in his spirit of forgiveness and reconciliation, lets it slide.  Next David comes to Barzillai, the man who helped David on his journey in Chapter 16.  He’s thanked. 

By and large, this is a very tender chapter.  Even Joab’s tough talk fits in.  As I’ve always maintained, the Bible is at its best when it about humans, and this section bleeds red with raw human emotion. 

There is a brief coda.  On the way back to Jerusalem, the northern tribes of Israel start quarrelling with the big tribe of Judah.  It’s just back-and-forth quarrelling for now, but it clearly foreshadows that the kingdom will split in two after David’s son Solomon dies.

Click here for the final chapters of Samuel II

Samuel II: Chapters 7 to 12

Last time, David solidified is control over Israel.  Now here's what happens with him in charge:

CHAPTER 7

Nathan the prophet goes to David when this one starts.  Have we met Nathan yet?  I don’t think so.  Seems like you should have a bit explaining who he is before he suddenly starts interacting with everyone else.  He is a prophet, after all.

At any rate, David says I’ve got a palace but we still key the ark of the Lord in a tent – the same tent it’s had since the days of Moses (the Tabernacle).  David wants to build God’s box a nice temple.  Nathan consults with God and finds out that God isn’t interested.  He didn’t ask for this, so don’t bother – but he does indicate that a son of David will do this.  (Clearly, the Bible is hinting toward Solomon here).

However, Nathan then drops the really good news on David – the Lord will make his family the rulers of Israel forever.  This is the latest covenant.  First Abraham had one that he’d become a great nation.  With Moses, they were promised that soon they’d get the Promised Land.  Now David is told his family will be rulers of all.  And you know what?  His descendents did rule the southern kingdom of Judea for the next several hundred years; all the way until Babylon took it all over. 

Of course, the loss of the kingdom brings up several problematic theological points, among them this covenant with David.  Here, God flatly says of David, “I will establish his royal throne forever.”  Forever?  More like 400 years!  But there is an explanation for this.  David’s covenant is negated by the previous ones, and the Israelites violated them.  The covenant with Moses said the Hebrew would have the land as long as they follow God’s laws, but they stopped doing that, so they lose their land.  And if they lose their land, then what exactly is the House of David supposed to rule over?  Hence the Bible will eventually solve the theological dilemma proposed by this covenant.

David replies with the appropriate enthusiasm, stating: “Great are you, Lord God!  There is no one like you, no God but you, as we have always heard.”  Folks, if I’m going to point out Biblical passages that indicate the Hebrew were polytheists who thought they’d picked the right God, I may as well note the monotheistic verses, and this surely is one of those.  (Then again, in the very next verse David says, “as you drove out the nations and their gods before your people” – well, that doesn’t mean he thinks they really exist.

CHAPTER 8

This is a brief chapter summarizing David’s wars.  The short version is that David kicks ass and takes names.  He’s subduing the people of Edom, Moab, the Ammonites, and the Philistines, among others. For all the complaining Samuel made of Israel picking a king, they sure are more effective with a king.  As long as Saul was sane he did a good job, and now David is as well. 

There is also a brief catalogue of David’s main officials. 

CHAPTER 9

This is another short chapter where David uses some nice finesse to solidify his claim on the throne.  He finds out that his old friend Jonathan has a surviving son, one with crippled feet.  So he has the kid (named Meribbaal) brought to the court. 

Meribbaal is a little freaked out to be there, but David puts him at ease as quickly as he can.  David wants Meribbaal to eat at his court as if he’s his own son, and so Meribbaal does. 

This is a smart move by David because Meribbaal represents the House of Saul.  In fact, Meribbaal arguably has a better claim to the throne than David.  He is a direct descendent of Saul, and his dad Jonathan was heir to the throne.  David is just a son-in-law, and one who barely spent any time with Saul’s daughter (and is by this time estranged from her).  Think about this for a second – if Queen Elizabeth and Prince Charles were both to die at the same time, who gets the throne?  It’s Prince Charles’ firstborn.  That’s Meribbaal.  It wouldn’t be some spouse of one of Elizabeth’s later kids. And remember – David had to win a civil war against the House of Saul to take control of all Israel.

He can look at Meribbaal as either a threat to be defeated or a possible ally to be won over.  He takes the latter course, figuring that if he’s nice to Meribbaal, that’ll solidify David’s control.  If even the House of Saul is OK with him, who can rebel in their name? This also explains why Meribbaal is so scared to be brought to David’s palace – because what if David chooses to view the kid as a threat?  Then the kid will soon be killed.

David comes off well in this chapter.  He’s at his charming and savvy best making a decision that is both kind and sound.

CHAPTER 10

After a chapter of internal diplomacy, it’s another one on external warfare.  David intends to be the nice guy here.  King Nahash of the Ammonites dies and is succeeded by his son Hanun.  David recalls that Nahash was kind to him during his years on the run and wants to repay the favor by being nice to the son, the new king.

But it doesn’t work out that way.  When David’s emissaries arrive, Hanun’s advisors tell him to beware – it’s a trap!  So he intentionally humiliates the envoys, having half of their beards shaved off and cutting the butts out of their garments and sending them back.  OK, that’s kind of funny.  You can just see these guys walking buttless back with only half-beards.   Yeah, that’s humiliating.   They send word back to David and he tells them to stay in Jericho until they grow their beards back. They took their facial hair seriously back then.  Then David sends out Joab to get revenge, and he does.

You really have to wonder about Hanun.  As a king, you have to figure out the implications of your move.  You have to approach it like a game of chess, being aware not just of the move you’re making but how you’ll respond to the other guy’s response.  He didn’t do that at all.  He just made a seemingly off-the-cuff decision and didn’t think things through. 

CHAPTER 11

And now comes one of the biggest turning points of David’s life.  Up until now, he’s always been the fair-haired boy.  The youth anointed by Samuel, who is skilled with a lyre, who slayed Goliath, who loved Jonathan, who survived Saul and refused to kill Saul when he had the chance, who won the civil war and became king, who led Israel to victory over its enemies.  So far, David has been the hero.

And then he sees a woman.  He goes for a stroll on his palace roof and sees he bathing: Bathsheba.  He wants her and has her taken to the palace, never mind that she’s the wife of Uriah the Hittite, armor bearer to Joab.  He has her – and she becomes pregnant.

Yeah, David got another man’s wife pregnant while that man was off fighting David’s wars for him.  Well, David immediately starts to scramble.  He has Uriah the Hittite brought back to Jerusalem on some flimsy pretext in the hopes that Uriah will go home and sleep with his wife (which would explain to all her pregnancy).  But Uriah refuses.  He tells David how can I sleep under a roof with my wife when the rest of the army sleeps in tents on the battlefield.  So David keeps him over another night.  No dice again.  This Uriah guy is very moral – which makes what is about to happen to him that much worse.

Well, when Uriah finds out his wife is pregnant, he’ll know it wasn’t him, so David needs to make sure Uriah doesn’t find out.  And that means Uriah must die.  He gives instructions to Joab on how it should be done – attack the town walls, and have everyone else pull back, leaving Uriah exposed and killed.  And so it happens, killing Uriah.  His minimal consolation is that he’s the only armor bearer in the Bible to be named.  Oh, and we’re also told in passing that some other men die in the attack as well.  Those are just acceptable loses to David.

So Bathseba mourns the loss of her husband, and then moves into the palace as David’s new wife.  You can imagine how the tongues must have wagged.  Some must have known that she was brought there earlier.  And her pregnancy was obvious.  Add to that the weird decision of David’s to say “Hey” to Uriah just before his death…for someone trying to do this on the sly, David is leaving one hell of a paper trail.

As for Bathsheba, she comes off rather passively in this.  How did she respond to David’s initial advance?  What was her marriage with Uriah like?  Is she the victim of David’s lust?  Is she willingly going along, even encouraging him?  She’s just a name here.  She is just a beautiful object of desire.  She’s the Other, important only in how she relates to the men around her.

CHAPTER 12

Nathan the Prophet knows the score.  I don’t really think you need to be a prophet to know the score, but it does help give one an extra level of certainty and moral authority. 

And Nathan has a ruse to trap David with.  He gives David a story of a problem he needs help judging.  There are two men – a rich man with a big flock of sheep and a poor man with just one ewe.  But the poor man loves the ewe and cares for it, and even lets it eat tat the table with him, growing up with his children.  The ewe even sleeps in the bed with him.  (Hey!  Whoah!  This is getting a little weird here, isn’t it? Nathan needs to spend less time engaging in prophecy and more time figuring out analogies that aren’t disturbing). 

Well, the point is the rich man kills the ewe to serve a visitor of his, instead of using one of his own lambs.  So, Nathan asks, what punishment does the rich man deserves?

David doesn’t see the trap he’s about to walk into.  (In that regard, maybe the weirdness of the story was a good thing.  David was too distracted by the ramifications of bestiality to realize where Nathan was going with this one).  David says the rich man deserves death!  He should make fourfold restitution. 

And now the trap springs.  That rich man is YOU!  David, you fuckwad, you did evil and thought you could get away with it?  What – you think the Lord is some big dummy or something?  Guess what?  For this the sword will never depart from your house.  Oh, God won’t kill you, but “Thus says the LORD: I will bring evil upon you out of your house.”   You won’t die yourself, but your child with Bathsheba will.  (And that’ll just start things off – David shouldn’t have said anything about fourfold restitution.  Four of his children will die before he does). 

Sure enough, the newborn baby gets sick.  David pleads and prays to God to save it.  He fasts and lays on the ground covered in a sackcloth.  He’s doing anything he can to win God’s favor and mercy for the baby that hasn’t done anything wrong himself. 

But it’s all for naught.  After seven days of fighting, the child dies.  So stricken has David been over the last week that they servants are afraid the break the bad news.  How will he react?  Will he go mad?  But David hears them whispering to each other and puts two and two together. My child is dead, isn’t he?  Yes, he is. 

David doesn’t go mad.  David doesn’t break down.  Instead, he goes to worship the Lord and returns and eats a nice meal for himself.  Wait – what?  That’s not normal behavior.  Having a newborn die isn’t supposed to be good for the appetite.  And it’s certainly not appropriate mourning custom.  His servants ask him what is he doing, he’s good from keeping a saint-like vigil to having a big buffet for himself.  What gives?

David’s answer is classic David.  I’ll quote it in full. He tells them, “While the child was living, I fasted and wept, thinking, `Who knows?  The Lord may grant me the child’s life.’  But now he is dead. Why should I fast?  Can I bring him back again?  I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” 

All along I’ve believed that the Bible is at its best when it’s the most human.  And it’s rarely ever as human as it is right here.  You get a real sense of what sort of person David is here.  He’s practical.  However horrified and distraught he is, David’s life didn’t die with the baby.  He must go on, and so he does.  He’s always been a survivor and a fighter.  Both his actions and his rationale fit perfectly for him. 

Joseph Heller wrote a book about David, “God Knows.”  It’s not great, but it has its moments, and this is one of those moments.  From this point on Heller’s David rejects God.  He thinks God is unfair and cruel because he took a newborn innocent baby for something someone else had done.  I don’t know if that fits the Biblical David, but it made sense in the novel.

Click here for the next bit: Chapters 13 to 19 of Samuel II.