The readings for this Sunday are
2 Samuel 11:1-5, 26-27; 12:1-9; Psalm 51:1-9
This Sunday’s reading is one of the more difficult ones of
the Bible (and there are lots of difficult texts in the Bible for lots of
different readings!). Yet it’s an
important text because it relates to us today.
Again, this could have been ripped from the headlines, a story of misuse
of power, sex, and coverups.
Yet it’s a story full of God’s mercy and forgiveness.
I’ve decided to tackle this story in three parts:
- Part One: Bathsheba’s story – often overlooked
when it’s not being romantically embellished or whitewashed.
- Part Two: David’s story, a story of entitlement and abuse
of power (told in the next post).
- Part Three: the story of Nathan confronting David, which reveals why David is called a “person
after God’s own heart” – which is this Sunday’s sermon (and post three in this
series).
Bathsheba’s reputation has been sullied by Hollywood and,
sad to say, centuries of preaching that routinely casts women in the role of
seductress, sexual provocateur, and adulteress.
Sebastiano Ricci, Bathsheba at the Bath, 1720. Szepmuvesti
Muzeum, Budapest, Hungary
Her relationship with David has been cast as a torrid love
affair. It's been scripted as a romance and she has been cast as a willing partner in this
relationship with David. Or she is painted as a political operator, using her physical charms to wiggle her way to power.
Seductress? Political schemer? A woman in love?
Maybe...
Or more likely, a victim of sexual abuse by a man in power.
What is the truth of her-story?
Bathsheba (daughter of the oath, or daughter of seven) was
married to Uriah the Hittite, (whose name means” YHWH is my light”). Please note that both Bathsheba and Uriah are
Hebrew names, even thought Uriah is clearly identified as a Hittite. It’s usually assumed that Bathsheba was a Jewish
woman married to a Hittite. Her nationality
is not identified, which supports the assumption that she is Jewish – foreigner
typically have their nationality as part of their identification (Ruth the
Moabite, Uriah the Hittite). However, there
is speculation that her father may have been Hittite (or perhaps he married a foreign
woman).
Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, even though a Hittite, was a
member of David’s army. We don’t know
his rank, but we do know that he had been with David from the earliest days (2
Samuel 23:39, listed as one of David’s thirty Mighty Warriors). I hadn’t realized how close he was to David, yet
David did him dirty (more about that next time!).
Much has been made of Bathsheba’s bathing on the roof. Surely a modest woman wouldn’t bath so publicly,
right? It means she was flaunting
herself, right? Victim blaming at it’s
finest. Bathsheba was simply doing what
she was supposed to do: purify herself after her period. Bathing often took place on the roof, which
was used as additional living space (there is speculation that she may have
been bathing in the interior courtyard of her house, open to the air). There was a parapet to prevent people from
falling off the roof, which would also have given privacy to the people on the
roof. Bathsheba was simply doing what
she was supposed to do.
David, however, wasn’t.
Social customs were to avert your eyes if you could see into your
neighbor’s roof. David should have
looked away, preserving Bathsheba’s privacy.
Can you imagine Bathsheba’s reaction when she was summoned
to David? What on earth could he want? There's no question but to obey the summons. You didn't say no to the king.
Once in David’s chambers, she is
raped.
Yes. Raped. This is not the start of a beautiful love affair, or the first blush of a romance that budded into marriage. To paint
what happened to her any other way is to whitewash David’s actions. She HAD to consent. And forced consent is not consent – it’s
rape.
Once done with her, David discards her. Until…
Bathsheba discovers she’s pregnant. By the way, the timing
of the rites of purification after menstruation coincide with the most fertile
time in a woman’s cycle. So, yeah, she got pregnant. And she’s in trouble. Her husband is at war. There’s no way to explain the pregnancy,
except…
She sends a message to David. She has no where else to turn but to the man
who raped her and discarded her. She is
forced to seek help from the very person who has put her in the situation of
being labeled an adulteress (and subject to death). She is literally afraid for her life.
David, after a series of unsuccessful maneuvers to cover up
the affair, has Uriah murdered. It’s
staged as a battlefield accident, but it’s murder, pure and simple. After her time of mourning, David calls Bathsheba
once more – from the text, it appears this is only the second time he requests
her presence – and marries her.
She. Marries, Her. Rapist.
She marries her husband’s murderer.
Her child dies. 2 Samuel 12:14 says it was part of David’s
punishment for his sin. Which certainly doesn't paint God in a very good light in this story! The best spin we can put on this is to say that the child's death was interpreted as punishment for David's sin. Which is also problematic - this interpretation gives David's sin prominence over Bathsheba's suffering.
Bathsheba is victimized by David and his actions again and
again.
Bathsheba continues to be victimized over the centuries. People are ever ready to blame a woman for a man’s bad deeds. Especially for the misdeeds of a powerful man:
- It can't have been David's fault - Bathsheba flaunted herself, enticing him.
- She was a seductress, a willing partner in adultery.
- She must have been a master in palace intrigue, maneuvering herself to a position of power.
- She was an operative of factions that wanted to bring David down.
Victim blaming at its best.
Yes, Bathsheba makes the best of a bad situation. But that doesn't erase the violation of her body and her dignity.
Later in the story, Bathsheba gives birth to Solomon (2 Samuel 12:24 says "David comforted his wife," and that "God loved Solomon"), her "rainbow baby" who
ultimately becomes king after David.
Bathsheba is a fighter. A woman of valor who fights for her
dignity. A woman of strength who picks
up the broken pieces of her life and weaves them into something beautifully indestructible.
Where is God in Bathsheba’s story? It somehow seems insufficient to say that God
blessed her for her suffering by choosing her son Solomon to be king, making
her mother of the king, and a powerful woman in her own right.
Rather, I think God was the one who brought Bathsheba
comfort in those days after the rape, who gave her strength to endure, who gave
her healing. God walked with her through
the desert of marriage to her rapist/husband-murderer. God cried with her at the death of her child. And the God who brings life from death, brought new life, and hope, to Bathsheba.
To Bathsheba, God is the God who cares for the victims of violence,
hearing their cries of anguish, believing their stories, walking with them as
they heal.
As children of this God, can we do any less for the victims
of sexual assault and violence today?
