David, anointed representative of God, passionate worshipper, utterly earthy and complicated

like you and I, has blown it big time.

You’ve probably heard the story referenced, even now thousands of years later. David and…

Not Goliath, Goliath’s story is an earlier one, one of triumph on the battlefield, of trust and
victory over an enemy.

No, this story occurs much later in David’s life, when he has become king, brought the ark to
Jerusalem, and has sent his army out to fight, and is enjoying what he sees as some much-
needed R&R at home.

Now the reality of what happens next is both scandalous, sickening, and so so… commonplace.

David sees, from the roof, a desirable woman. Not caring for anything except his desire, he
sends for her, takes her to bed, and discards her. Her name, Bathsheba, is the one you’ve
probably heard before. You may not have heard of her husband, Uriah. When Bathsheba sends
word to David that she has become pregnant, he sends for Uriah. David is good at fixing
problems. David sends Uriah to Bathsheba, hoping to benefit from the lack of 23 and Me
genetic testing once the baby arrives. But Uriah, loyal to his army buddies, refuses the pleasures
of home while they are out in the field. So while Uriah sleeps outside David’s palace, David
writes orders to his commander, Joab, to put Uriah in the thick of the fighting and to leave him
there to die. David sends these orders back with Uriah to the frontlines, and Joab follows them
to the letter. Uria dies and Bathsheba mourns. And when the mourning period ends, David
sends for her, and marries her.

It's less of a Sunday School story and more of a Netflix drama plot.
It’s not the David we like to celebrate as a champion of the faith, as a man after God’s own
heart.
It ought to make us uncomfortable, this moment in his life, this cascade of increasingly
destructive choices, as we wonder…how did it come to this? How did such infidelity and murder
grow from such a beloved heart?

And this story points us to the truth, that it grew, like it always does, gradually and
unobtrusively.

David sent. I used that language multiple times in my summary of the chapter before the one
we read today, because it points us to the issue at the root of David’s descent into destruction.

As Eugene Peterson notes, David’s sending in this passage is not morally neutral. In all of his
sending, David exercises his power in an impersonal way to take and get what he wants. He
shifts from compassion and listening to ordering, demanding, creating a position outside of and
above others. He acts like he is God.
This is highlighted as you read through Chapter 11 and the train picks up speed with each use of
the verb “send”. David sends his troops off to war. David sends for information about
Bathsheba. David sends for Bathsheba. David sends for Uriah. David sends Uriah back with his
death warrant. David sends for the newly widowed Bathsheba.

This story of David’s abusive and exploitative misuse of power is told through the lens of his
seizing of a god-like authority and the rejection of personal, intimate community.

And it must have felt good. Seeing a beautiful woman and having her. Outsmarting the
paparazzi of the nation. Dotting the I’s and crossing the t’s of his coverup plan. It must have felt
good, or else why else would this story have played out over and over again through the
centuries, when someone gains power and allows their hubris to make them think they can
have whatever they want with no consequences, as long as they are clever and powerful
enough.

It must have felt good, because this slide into isolation, dissatisfaction, abuse, and destruction
has played out so many times, it loses it’s scandal. Loses it’s sickening quality. It just becomes
commonplace. We see it in gossip mags, in press releases, in courtroom transcripts. Earthy,
complicated people keep buying the story that you can be like God, have the power to do
whatever you want, just keep it secret and keep it to yourself.

But we can’t keep it secret and keep it to ourselves. This story spills over and it swallows
Bathsheba, Uriah, Joab, Uriah’s unit, the servants carrying the messages sent back and forth.

And it catches the eye of God. Who we are told is displeased by David’s actions.

And so our chapter today begins with some more sending….

The Lord sent Nathan to David.

We can try to take God’s power and authority, but he retains both. And uses them.

The Lord sends Nathan to David. Nathan is known to David, he’s spoken to him on God’s behalf
before. Think of Nathan like David’s pastor, spiritual advisor. A mentor. Someone further along
the journey of faith. A fellow earthy human, but one who isn’t busy chasing power, but who is
listening to the Lord.

Nathan’s message is not fancy or intellectual. It’s a simple story that strikes at the heart of what
abuse of power looks and feels like.

Imagine a wealth man throwing a feast. This man has many lambs he could serve. But he
chooses none of them. Instead he imperiously and cruelly seizes the only lamb of a poor man
down the street and serves it to his guests.
David, seeing this selfish and spiteful act in is imagination cries out judgement upon the rich
man. “As surely as the Lord lives, that man should die!”

And just like that Nathan has him.

“You are the man.”

You are the man. You are the woman.

The disciples of Jesus are with him, learning to be like him.

That’s how Dallas Willard describes the vast and deep concept of Discipleship.

Discipleship is being with Jesus, learning to be like him.

It’s so simple, and yet so easy to miss. It’s so easy to make discipleship about Programs (small
groups, the Hub) or Pressure (How many days did you read your Bible this week?) or
Performance (What did you do right, what did you do wrong?) And when we make discipleship
about what we do, we take an amazing gift, and we reduce it to a burdensome expectation.

I’m not up here today