2 Samuel 12:1-31 · Nathan Rebukes David
When Matters Hang in the Balance
2 Samuel 12:1-31
Sermon
by Robert Noblett
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When our son was very small, he developed a strange disorder that manifested itself in an excruciating pain that roamed from joint to joint. It would be in one elbow, then the other; it would then move on to a knee and so forth. As part of the diagnostic procedures, he was given an EKG, and I still have a very vivid mental picture of the little fellow all wired and lying on a hospital bed. Our anxiety was heightened by the fact that for a time, the medical people could not arrive at any definite diagnosis. We were told that it might be necessary to admit Matthew to a Boston hospital specializing in pediatric medicine. For a time, matters hung in the balance.

When matters hang in the balance, we hang in the balance with them. And it can be a torturous business to be so suspended.

Hanging in the balance could easily describe what happened to David in this episode from 2 Samuel. David had repented of his sin involving Bathsheba, but a heavy matter remained and that was the illness and probable death of the child born of their imprudence.

Bad Theology

Greatly troublesome is the first verse from this episode in David’s life: “The Lord caused the child that Uriah’s wife had borne to David to become very sick.” (2 Samuel 12:15b TEV) “The Lord caused ...” This Old Testament notion is laid to rest in the New Testament, but it continues to linger, if not as true, at least as possible in the minds of modern people. Listen closely and you will find people who believe, or at least consider the notion, that their illness is punishment from God for sin. More than once people have raised that issue with me as their pastor. But this is bad no sick theology. It’s my impression that Old Testament thinkers and writers read this into the stories of these people. I have no problem immediately rejecting such notions out of hand.

For instance, Jesus responded to the disciples’ query about a man born blind, “Teacher, whose sin caused him to be born blind? Was it his own or his parents’ sin?” And Jesus replies, “His blindness has nothing to do with his sins or his parents’ sins.” (John 9:2-3 TEV)

The essence of what Leslie Weatherhead once said to parents grief-stricken over the untimely death of their little son in a cholera epidemic must be lifted up any time we hear people assuming that tragedy is the will of God: “Call your little boy’s death the result of mass ignorance, call it mass folly, call it mass sin, if you like, call it bad drains or communal carelessness, but don’t call it the will of God.” (The Will of God, p. 11)

Eating the Bread of Anxious Toil

Clearly our story pictures David as one who is, to borrow a phrase from the 127th Psalm, “eating the bread of anxious toil.” Doesn’t that well describe the interior state of people who are waiting while matters hang in the balance? It is a time to be upset, and there is no value in trying to deny or hide that condition. To the contrary, there is value in admitting that we are extremely upset and worried. What is disclosed can be handled; what is hidden confounds us.

Years ago a small group of us were huddled together in a hospital waiting room just off a cardiac care unit (and waiting rooms like that are always places where matters are hanging in the balance). Grammy Barber’s life was hanging in the balance, and I had joined some of her children in their vigil. She was their beloved mother, but she was a beloved friend of our family, too. We talked and wondered and prayed and fretted, and then we heard that ominous code over the loudspeaker summoning all available medical personnel to the cardiac unit. Was it Grammy? We wondered.

When the family physician came into view, we knew the answer to our question. It was Grammy, and for a time we continued to be upset people.

There is no getting around the fact that life will at times hang in the balance for us. Just like David, we will reject food, pray to God, maintain our nocturnal vigils and cope as best we can.

What will we want from others at times like that? David’s court officials wanted him to get up, perhaps go out and get something to eat, get some fresh air, and clean up a bit. He resisted. While different people will require different treatment, if there is any principle that can be operative here, it is the principle that folks have a right to grapple with matters in a style that is theirs. Maybe it’s not the way we would do it, but it is their way and provided it isn’t fundamentally injurious to them or others, it is to be honored. And we are to be there listening, supporting, reflecting or, as we say in the church, ministering.

We have friends whose daughter, at a very early age, contracted leukemia. Luckily, she had a physician who quickly diagnosed her and she was sent immediately to Roswell Park for treatment. Chemotherapy put her in remission and today she is considered wholly cured. But there was a waiting period before that proclamation could be made, and during that waiting period there were regular trips to Buffalo for bone marrow exams. The little girl’s father would take her to Buffalo and her mother would remain home. And every time, matters hung in the balance for these parents. What would the bone marrow declare: continuing health or a backward step? At the time these friends lived across the street from us, and we would do what we could for Pat during those days of suspended balance as she waited for the phone call from her husband. But Pat was a private person and as I recall it, we actually did very little for her. Pat knew we were there; she knew she could come over if she wanted to; she knew we would be glad to come to her home. Each time dad and daughter went to Buffalo, we would do something to let her know that we knew this particular day was her day of waiting.

Maybe David’s court officials tried too hard. Maybe they wanted to provide too much structure for their beleagured king.

Miscalculation

When the child finally died, the court officials were frightened to tell David. They feared he might do something rash. “How can we tell him that his child is dead? He might do himself some harm!” (2 Samuel 12:18 TEV)

Have you ever underestimated the ability of another to cope? Sometimes we overestimate, but I have the sense that more often we underestimate. People who are seemingly frail or weak or needy or resourceless regularly surprise us when push comes to shove. They rise to occasions we and perhaps they too never thought possible.

Harry Wiggins was an English teacher in my first congregation. He had married late in life and it was a happy marriage. But his wife became sick and eventually died. The day she died, Harry was out of town tending to some business and I was called. It fell to me to tell Harry of his wife’s death, and it was not a task I relished. Harry was probably more dependant on his wife than she was on him, and I wondered how he would take the news of her death.

He came into the house and headed right for her bedroom. I gently headed him off, placed my hand on his shoulder, and told him of Mary’s death. “Oh no,” he groaned and then went into the room to be with her for a time.

Well, Harry surprised many of us. He took hold of what needed attention. He had never gotten a driver’s license, and at seventy-some years of age went out and acquired one. He continued to write and publish poems. He commenced to write a regular historical column for his hometown newspaper. And he did a good bit of guest lay preaching in area churches. He led a full life until the day he joined his wife in death.

David surprised his court, too. No wool was being pulled over his eyes. He could sense that the child had died, and what he commenced to do stupefied them. He got up, took a bath, combed his hair, and changed his clothes. He then went and worshiped, and after that ate a full meal. He announced to his surprised court, “I did fast and weep while he was still alive.... But now that he is dead, why should I fast? I will some day go to where he is, but he can never come back to me.” (2 Samuel 12:22-23 TEV)

I have a hunch that David was able to get on with his life because he had first entered wholeheartedly into that period when matters hung in the balance. He probably churned matters over and over again in his mind; he surely wrestled with his contributions to the darkness that was upon him. And out of all this there emerged some sense of resolution. What else could be done? Best to get on with life, regrettable as his sojourn with darkness had been.

Restoration

And that’s what David did. God and David had worked matters out. They no longer hung in the balance and David moved on. “Then David comforted his wife Bathsheba. He had intercourse with her, and she bore a son, whom David named Solomon.” (2 Samuel 12:24 TEV)

It is part of the wonder and glory of God that God doesn’t leave his children suspended forever between failure and uncertainty. God, as that most beloved of Psalms reminds us, restores our souls and leads us into avenues of righteousness.

CSS Publishing, Lima, Ohio, ORDINARY PEOPLE, EXTRAORDINARY GOD, by Robert Noblett