Sermon on Pentecost 3 ~ the King and the Whore
June 17,
2007
You are the man...I have sinned against the LORD.
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In the Name of God the holy and Undivided Trinity
Last
week, we beheld the stinking abomination of human power at its worst, as
depicted by the Apostolic community under imperial persecution. The picture was
as unflattering as possible ~ Babylon,
the Great Whore, burning forever before the throne of the Lamb, Whom she had
tortured to death, Human power as cruelty and injustice is an offense to God:
filthy and intolerable.
Today, we see another kind of prostitute
and another kind of confrontation with human power gone bad: But the thing
that David has done displeased the LORD, and the LORD sent Nathan to David.
David could have behaved like the Whore of Babylon, and he could easily have
ended up like
Imagine the powerful young man ~ Jesus’
age, about thirty ~ furious at the pitiless injustice of the fictitious rich
man. Think how his handsome lips curled in rage, and then how his face paled as
his emotion changed from anger to desperate guilt and horror, as he realized
that he had just condemned himself. You are the man. With those words,
Nathan might have uttered his own death sentence, but in the King’s response
lies all of David’s unique greatness: I have sinned against the LORD.
I can’t really think of anything
comparable in history. And this was 1000 years before Christ! 1000 years before
the
Although he does look good, in the end,
because he is a sinner who repents. That is what makes him a righteous
ruler. He is not some oriental demigod, who can do no wrong, no a ruler above
the law, not a Nixonian who thinks that if the president does it can’t
be illegal, by definition. David was a ruler who actually subjected himself to
the law of God, as elucidated by God’s prophet. In this great story, religion
is neither a prop for royal power ~ mere ideology spun out to drug the subjects
into servility ~ nor is it an implacable enemy of human power per se. In
Nathan’s confrontation of David, the Man of God is independent of the King,
heedless of his own well-being, powerless before the King, but fearless and
faithful in his role as the royal reality-check. And the King appears as a
flawed human being, whose saving grace is that he respects the prophetic role
and is able to hear the prophet. THAT is the proper relationship between church
and state.
David really expected the penalty he had
himself pronounced: As the LORD live, that man deserves to die! But
David’s repentance brought instant pardon. Now the LORD has put away your
sin. You shall not die, David’s throne would survive his great sin but not
as secure and happy as before. Because David had slain Uriah the Hittite with the
sword of the Ammonites, the sword would never depart from David’s own house,
beginning with his love-child. The King was forgiven, but there remained a
price to be paid.
We moderns will object that it was paid
by an innocent baby. But remember that this was 1000 BCE. People had a very
different sense of personal identity from ours: much less individualistic, and
much more bound up with tribe and clan and family. Relatives were part of one
another much more than our modern self-consciousness can, perhaps, imagine. The
death of an infant is a terrible grief for a modern parent, but for David it
was beyond even that the death of his child was the death of a big part of
himself. Still, it is hard for us to have any sympathy for God in this detail
of the story.
But the people
of David’s time did not think of human beings ~ least of all newborn infants ~
as bearers of rights. The child the LORD struck has no right to life itself. The child was not even
dignified by a personal pronoun. “It became
very ill,” you see. And the
loss of newborns was so very common. No one saw David and Bathsheba’s loss as a
punishment of the infant, but of the family. David had passed the sentence
himself. Nathan’s rich man had seized the lamb the poor man loved as his own
daughter. David had played the pitiless rich man, and now he would suffer the
loss that man had visited on his poor neighbor, in Nathan’s story. No one would
have considered it unjust to the child. It’s only identity was as a part
of David and Bathsheba.
A thousand
years later, consciousness had changed. By Jesus’ time, it was considered just
to suffer only for one’s own sin. That was the dilemma of Job. The woman
of the alabaster jar (gratuitously and probably erroneously associated with
Mary Magdalene by Western tradition) was a big-time sinner. Notorious. A woman
of ill repute, and then as now, that meant only one thing. The Whore of Babylon
may have been a metaphor, but the Alabaster Jar-lady was not! Here we have
another dearly beloved story, this one also showing how God judges us. As with
David, our own recognition of our sin is all that the LORD asks.
But unlike
David’s sin, the woman has no further cost to pay. For those whose
consciousness had not risen quite that far, Jesus was going to die on the Cross
to help them believe that God really had forgiven them. But the woman had no
need of that. And ~ despite the mutterings of some of the other dinner guests ~
Jesus did NOT forgive her. In the context of the parable he had made of her
case for Simon the Pharisee, He simply observed that her sins had already been
forgiven. She had experienced this forgiveness before she got her jar and
entered the house, and her tears were tears of joy and gratitude. Jesus told
her that her trust had saved her.
Forgiveness is there
before we ask for it. All we have to do is admit, like David, that we need it
and to trust, like the woman, that it is there. Grace envelopes us like the air
that surrounds us. All we have to do is breathe.