Pentecost 9B – July 25, 2021 – 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – The Reverend Paul Kett
In the first few Sundays of this season of Pentecost – sometimes called the Ordinary Season, referring to the numbering of these Sundays – we have been following the life of David recounted in the readings from the Hebrew Scriptures. And a lot has happened in this character’s life since we first read of his anointing by Samuel. We have heard of his encounter with Goliath; we have read of his lament over the death of both Saul, his mentor, and Jonathan, his son. We have celebrated with him as he was anointed to reign over all Israel, and as he brought the Ark to Jerusalem. We have witnessed God establishing and proclaiming David’s lineage. Today, we begin to see another David, a very human David, a man driven by his humanness, perhaps even by his darker side. Our reading from the Hebrew Scriptures today tells of David’s encounter with Bathsheba.
It happened in Jerusalem, at a time we are told that most kings were out to battle. David had sent his army, but he had remained at home. He viewed from his roof-top a woman bathing, he was enamoured by what he saw, ascertained her name, had her brought to him, had sex with her and she became pregnant. Bathsheba was the wife of Uriah, one of David’s soldiers. The story becomes even darker as we follow David’s attempts at arranging for Uriah to spend time with his wife, so that it would seem that he was the father of her unborn child. When this failed, David arranged for Uriah to be killed – accidentally, of course – in battle. Sometime after this David married Bathsheba.
In these readings we have come a long way from the young handsome boy, the youngest of his siblings, who was found tending his father’s sheep when he was first made king. Today we encounter a man spiralling down, a man overcome by his desires, whose actions affect others in very negative ways.
It would be too easy, and wrong, to attribute David’s actions as simply succumbing to a natural temptation. It would be even more abhorrent to blame Bathsheba for what happened. Yet, both of these points of view have been a part of our history, and of the church’s interpretation of the story, the basis for countless sermons down through the years. But a thoughtful reading and honest reflection of this story presents a more accurate description of David’s behaviour – that is, the abuse of power and authority, to say nothing of the abuse of individuals.
We live in a time when abusive behaviour seems to be rampant. Political leaders might use their authority in ways that astound and confound us. We hear stories of those who are called to serve and protect overstepping their boundaries to cause unnecessary injury or even death. We are aware of unfair and abusive practices in labour and in employer-employee relationships. And, to be honest, we must also include our beloved church in these behaviours, for, sadly, we have a history of abuse of power, and abuse of individuals and groups that casts a shadow over us. Let me be clear here – I speak of the institutional church worldwide, not our particular parish.
One of the issues we face today is in our relationship with our Indigenous relatives. I use the term “relative” to point out our understanding of who the family of God includes. In particular, the rise of residential schools in Canada and in other parts of the world, exemplifies how both government and church openly sought to deny culture, language, and religious belief in First Nations, Métis, and Inuit peoples. For about 160 years, from the 1830’s to the 1990’s, our government in concert with Roman Catholic, Anglican, Methodist/United, and Presbyterian Churches, operated Residential Schools in most provinces and territories. Children were removed from their homes, with the idea that separation from home and family along with indoctrination into non-Indigenous ways of thinking, worshipping, and living, would transform them by denying and blotting out any kind of Indigenous culture. Sadly, history shows that many if not most of these schools were lacking in sound education practices, safe and comfortable living accommodation, nourishing food, health care, and love. Too many children were never reunited with their parents and families. Too many children died while attending Residential Schools, from disease, fire, and neglect. Too many deaths were never reported to families, let alone registered. Too many graves were left unmarked. A so-called superior white culture and knowledge was tacitly or implicitly responsible for abuse – physical, emotional, and sexual. Our Indigenous communities knew of these atrocities, but it took the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, who completed their listening process in 2015, for us to hear and believe them. The recent discovery of many unmarked gravesites has reopened this painful wound in Indigenous communities, and has given rise to renewed efforts to understand what our First Nations, Métis, and Inuit sisters and brothers have suffered.
We – both many branches of the church, and government – have apologized for our complicity and our actions. We have begun to stand beside our Indigenous relatives in their grief and anger. And we have begun to take seriously the need to act in ways that will bring some degree of healing. We do this as members of the family of God. We do this by sharing God’s compassion.
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus’ act of providing food for a hungry multitude was an act of deep compassion. He identified the pressing need of those before him and he acted with love and mercy to give them food. He showed them God’s love, God’s compassion.
May we, too, reflect on our calling to be bearers of compassion to all our relatives of God’s family. May our actions be based on learning more about our Indigenous sisters and brothers, by listening to their stories, by experiencing their deep spirituality of the earth and the Creator, by adjusting attitudes and biases where necessary. May we truly become one with every member of God’s loving family.