Six momentous words capture David’s true greatness. What are they? Hold on, we’ll get to them.

The books of Samuel and Kings are the product of a huge editorial process of weaving together multiple oral traditions into an integrated narrative to tell the history of a nation. Like a loosely woven tapestry, within the grand narrative sweep, we find multiple storylines relating. Multiple threads comprise individual storylines. Isolate and pull on a particular thread reveals a story told from a different angle. The story of David and Bathsheba is a fine example.

In a Man’s Man – the title of my sermon before I left for vacation – I spoke about the love that bound David and Jonathan together till death did them part. I commented that on receiving news of Jonathan’s death – David’s lament proclaimed Jonathan’s love as surpassing that of women. I suggested we understand this statement as a cultural expression in a world where women while suitable as the bearers of children were not full persons but property. You don’t look to a piece of property for soul companionship.

If Jonathan was the love of David’s youth, Bathsheba was the love of his mid-life. For Bathsheba to be the object of David’s lust is not surprising. But to become his soul companion requires her transformation into a person in his eyes – a major achievement within the culture of their day.

In 2021 in a sermon titled The Perils of Getting What you Want I teased the particular thread in the story that relates to the power dynamic between David and Bathsheba. After the rise of the #MeToo movement – it seemed timely to explore the power dynamic at play between sexual victim and perpetrator.  Pulling on this thread in the story reveals Bathsheba as just another female victim of male sexual aggression -robbed of personal agency. Of course, the story is silent on the matter of Bathsheba’s own desire. The story of David and Bathsheba although couched as a significant love story – it’s primarily a story about David and the consequences of a sexual lust that drives him not only to steal another man’s wife but also to arrange for the husband’s assassination.

There’s an old Chinese curse – may you live in interesting times. We’re certainly living in interesting political times. What makes contemporary politics interesting is that once again within a decade we are poised on the knife edge of a momentous choice that will decide the future direction of the nation with profound implications for the Western alliance. Some say our democracy has grown old and listless leading many to pontificate that we are a culture in decline. We are all too close to events to know if this is so or not. However, the American Republic is being weighed on the scales – precariously poised between decency and weirdness.

The imagination of the American Republic draws heavily on an evocation of the Roman Republic which spanned an astonishing five centuries between 509 and 27 BCE. The last years of the Republic were marked by decades of civil strife that led to a sustained corruption of firstly, the electorate – marked by the degeneration of popular aspirations and values – secondly, the rule of law, and finally, the Senate – the core institution of republican government. The death blow to the Republic came swiftly. In 27 BCE the Roman Senate granted extraordinary powers to Julius Caesar’s appointed successor – elevating Octavian to the status of princeps civitatis – in other words, emperor. As a symbol of this dramatic development, Octavian took the new name of Augustus – he who was now above the law. On a show of hands in the Senate the Roman Republic was consigned to a footnote of history.

None of us can be in any doubt about the implications of the recent Supreme Court ruling on Presidential Immunity. This decision could be likened to the Roman Senate’s raising of Octavian to one who is above the law. With the publication of Project 2025, we have further evidence of a planned pathway that will sound the death knell of our republic and put us firmly on the road to the kind of autocracy to be expected in a second Trumpian term.

What might appear a strange diversion through contemporary politics via the Roman Republic provides the preamble or segue to my pulling on a different thread within the David and Bathsheba story.

David was a strong autocrat. He could be magnanimous but also brutal. He was a living example of how power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. He’s the most successful of Israel’s kings ushering in a period known as the United Kingdom. But despite white Christian Nationalism’s more comic flight of fancy, David is far from the modern role model white evangelicals depict him as. In practice his rule was absolute. As we see from Uriah’s fate, he did not hesitate to orchestrate state-sponsored assassination of those who stood in his way.

Yet we need to note that Israel’s king may have been absolute in practice, but he remained in theory, God’s regent.  For by the terms of the covenant with the Lord, Israel had only one king and YHWH was his name. Alongside the monarchy’s growing centralization of political power, the office of the prophet emerged as the voice of opposition through which YHWH periodically reminded David and those who followed him – that despite appearances they were not unaccountable.

Enter Nathan into the David-Bathsheba storyline. Nathan appears to be the first after Samuel to exercise the counterbalancing authority of the prophet. With ingenuity, Nathan constructs a story that acts as a mirror to reveal to David the sober truth of how much his adultery with Bathsheba leading to the assassination of her husband has displeased the Lord. Nathan engineers the story to trap David into condemning himself out of his own mouth. The great David is reduced to stunned silence as Nathan reminds him of all the good things that the Lord has done for him before finally capping the litany off with – and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more.

David sits in stunned silence as Nathan passes YHWH’s judgment on his action. He pronounces that a sword of division and strife shall wreak havoc in David’s house and his line. Breaking his stunned silence David whispers six momentous words – I have sinned against the Lord.

In the verse following the ending of today’s portion of the story – Nathan tells David that because of his repentance, the Lord has put away his sin and as a result, he will not die. But the child of his adulterous union with Bathsheba will fall ill and die. We learn of David’s deep anguish as the child’s illness moves towards death.  His servants who had been in terror at the prospect of the child’s death now have to tell David the child has died. They expect the worst but are amazed as the king breaks his fast, dries his tears, washes his body, and changes his clothes before going into the Lord’s house to worship. There is no explosion of violent emotion, no ranting at the unfairness of things, no cursing of God. After his visit to the house of the Lord David returns home to his wife Bathsheba and consoles her. But the unfolding of the Lord’s judgment upon David’s house will continue through the events of family strife – rape and fratricide and periodic insurrection.

David is remembered as the greatest of Israel’s kings. His greatness lies not in his considerable political power or military success. His memory rests not on his prowess as a strong man. His greatness rests in his ultimate humility expressed in those momentous six words whispered to Nathan. David’s story is a reminder that even autocracies operate within a framework of the moral universe – a framework in which power is subject to ultimate truth and accountability sooner or later.

I have sinned against the Lord. Six momentous words expressing humility and repentance become the hallmark of a great leader – that is a leader who puts the interests of his people and his nation before his own attachment to power.