And it came to pass, at the return of the year, at the time when kings go forth, that David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel; and they laid waste the [land of the] children of Ammon, and besieged Rabbah. But David abode at Jerusalem.
Spring came, the army marched, and the king stayed home. That one quiet line — David remained at Jerusalem — is where the story of his fall begins, and commentators treat it as the hinge of everything that follows.
The verse names the season, names the war, and then names David's location. Nothing more is said, and nothing more is needed.
At the time when kings go forth to war, and there being war, David remains at Jerusalem. Scripture puts these facts side by side, and set together like that they tell their own tale. David was seeking ease and comfort when circumstances called for activity and energy. What a contrast with the behaviour of the Hittite soldier, whom he soon condemns to death for his faithfulness!
Commentators differ on the reason. One writer notes the unfinished war with Ammon, then allows that David's own men may have urged their king to keep out of danger. He answers that the safer place proved the more dangerous one.
The account with Ammon was by no means settled, and in the spring David sent Joab and the armies of Israel to fight the Ammonites and to besiege their capital city, Rabbah. It is possible his servants advised this so that their king would not face danger (ch. 18:3). But David's energy of faith had weakened, and staying at home put him in greater danger.
Another writer sees more than one bad decision here — a change in the man himself.
David is no longer acting by faith in God's service. When the time comes at which kings go forth to war, he stays at home at his ease, and sends others in his place to fight Jehovah's battles. At ease and idle, he falls easily into sin, just as he did when he looked for rest among the Philistines. He was no longer standing by faith.
Measured by itself, staying home looks like almost nothing. That is the danger.
It may seem to be a small thing, but it is enough for the enemy of his soul. Soft, relaxing habits quickly come in, for the next moment we see him, instead of having strapped the sword to his thigh, lying on his bed at evening. The outposts stood unguarded, and the fortress itself becomes an easy prize for the enemy... Jerusalem, dear friends, was David's place for himself, when the field of battle was God's place for him. Little as that may seem, it is enough to lead to adultery.
The point is not that David went looking for sin. It is that occupation itself holds the flesh down, and idleness lets it up.
Work for the Lord, whatever the work may be, keeps nature under pressure. But at ease, nature starts to stir, and outside things act on it. We should think hard about this. Satan will always find mischief for idle hearts, as well as idle hands. David came to feel this. Had he been at Rabbah with his army, his eye would never have fallen on a sight able to stir the corrupt principle inside him. Staying at home is the very thing that gave the enemy an opening.
David had authority and responsibility from God, and rest was not what either was given for.
He rested at the season when the kings of the earth go forth to battle; for men of the world often put out greater activity to accomplish their purposes than Christians do to serve Christ. Believers think that they can rest for a moment and sit down by the side of the road. But we have not been engaged as servants in order to be lazy slaves.
The neglected post is repaid years afterwards, when David is driven from Jerusalem by his own son.
The true value of sorrow and trial is to lead the soul into simple, felt reliance on God. David had failed in this. He had neglected his appointed work, and so laid himself open to temptation and sin (2 Sam. 11:1). Now he must go through a war with his own son. When we shrink from the service we are called to, trouble comes upon us. Like Jonah, we also show that we need deeper testing of soul to make us fit for our calling.
The lesson is turned outward: refusing worldly ambition is not the same as having nothing to do.
If there was no need to gain anything for himself, did he forget that there was yet much to gain for God? But laziness will lead to real sin... Are we truly active in the things of God? Not settling down in selfish contentment, but using our free time to store our souls with the truth of the Word of God... If we allow laziness in our lives, the world has its thousands of attractions ready to excite our natural senses. If we were properly busy, we would simply have no time for them, and no desire either.
- Place — God's place for David was the battlefield. David chose Jerusalem instead, and that one swap opened the door to everything else.
- Ease — work keeps nature under pressure; the moment a man leaves his post he is weak, and the enemy finds an opening.
- Use — free time is not free of duty: fill it with the Word of God, or the world will fill it with its own attractions.
- Faith — he sent others to fight the Lord's battles. He was no longer standing by faith.
- Harvest — the neglected duty came back as a war with his own son. Shrinking from our calling brings trouble, and testing that makes us fit for it.
And it came to pass at evening time that David arose from off his couch, and walked upon the roof of the king's house; and from the roof he saw a woman bathing, and the woman was very beautiful;
David's army is away at war. He is at home instead — up from his couch, walking on the palace roof in the evening — and one look from that roof leads him into sin.
Walking on the roof in the evening was an ordinary thing to do.
Some roofs were more solidly built, with a low wall around them for safety. People went up on such roofs for private conversation and for prayer (1 Samuel 9:25; Acts 10:9), and in the evening for coolness (2 Samuel 11:2).
David should have been away at the war. He was resting at home instead, and that choice came before the look.
David is no longer acting by faith in God's service. When the time comes for kings to go out to war, he stays at home at his ease. He sends others in his place to fight the LORD's battles. At ease and in idleness he falls readily into sin, as was the case when he sought rest among the Philistines. He was no longer standing by faith.
One writer sets David beside a man who had decided in advance what he would look at.
"I have made a covenant with my eyes; how then could I gaze at a virgin?" — so Job said (Job 31:1). David knew no such covenant. He looks where he should not have looked, and sin soon follows. It is a solemn illustration of James 1:14-15: "But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death." The king of all Israel had become another Achan: I saw — I coveted — I took (Joshua 7:20-21).
The woman had a husband — one of David's own soldiers, away at the war and fighting for his king.
David is at his house, and on his couch, and then walking on the roof of his house, when he is trapped through his eyes. The woman he finds is a wife, and the wife of one of his own heroic men, now at the war for Israel and for him; but nothing stops him. He is a king, and everything yields to him with the ease that is the curse of power.
We cannot help every sight that meets our eyes. What we do next is ours to decide.
How quickly we are defiled by a look! How quickly we are distracted by what our eyes see... The apostle Paul tells us, "make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" (Romans 13:14). Someone has said that it is the "second look" that is sin. He meant that when you walk in the street and see an unclean thing, a pornographic picture, you cannot help that. But when you stop, or turn to look again, that is deliberate.
David held the highest place in Israel. That is where the warning lands.
No honour that God puts on us can preserve us. There is no possible way for any soul to be kept from sin against the Lord except by self-judgment and dependence. So the more exalted a man is, the more liable he is to fall. Where the eye turns away from the Lord — and this was the case with David — we are all liable to it. I am not speaking of eventual recovery, or of the Lord's preserving grace at the end. But there is no security against dishonouring the Lord along the way, except by continually looking to Him.
One writer measures the David of this verse against the David of earlier days.
There was a time when David would not have been lying on his couch while the armies of the Lord were at war with the enemy. But such is man — even the best of men. When pride swells the heart, or lust dims the eye, who can set a limit to human depravity? Who can define the fearful lengths that even a David can go to when out of communion? Blessed forever be the God of all grace, who has always proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children!
- Place — David was on a roof when he should have been at the front; the wrong place came before the wrong look.
- Look — Job had decided in advance what he would look at. David made no such decision, and looking led to wanting.
- Power — nothing stood in the king's way. One writer calls that ease the curse of power.
- Everyone — honour from God guards no one. Self-judgment, dependence and a steady eye on the Lord do. The higher the place, the greater the danger.
- Grace — no one can measure how far a believer out of communion may go, or how far God's grace reaches to bring him back.
and David sent and inquired after the woman. And one said, Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Urijah the Hittite?
David has stayed home from the war, seen a woman from his roof, and now sends someone to find out who she is. The reply gives him three facts — her name, her father, her husband — and the last of them should have ended the matter.
The reply named her husband. That alone should have closed the door. One writer presses the question the verse leaves hanging:
Honest self-judgment should have turned his eyes and his thoughts away at once, but her beauty drew him in. Inquiring about her, he found she was another man's wife. Why did this fact not stop him? He already had seven wives. He knew the law of God, that an adulterer should be put to death (Deut. 22:23-24), but he used his own position as king to break the law of God.
The report does not stop at "married." It names Uriah. Uriah was a soldier in the army David had sent out while he stayed behind. That makes the sin worse than private appetite:
The woman he finds is a wife, and of one of his own heroic men now at the war for Israel and for him; but nothing stops him. He is a king, and everything yields to him with the ease which is the curse of power.
The verse calls Uriah "the Hittite" — an outsider serving Israel's king. Commentators note that his own loyalty later became the thing David could not get around:
A Hittite in David's army, with whose wife, Bathsheba, David committed adultery. The simple faithfulness of Uriah blocked David when he tried to cover his sin.
David's question did not come out of nowhere. Writers trace the fall back to a small choice in the opening verse — staying home:
The lesson he had learned at the end of 2 Samuel 10 ought to have set him at the head of his army again. That is how a fall begins — often so insignificantly. Again and again God rebukes His servant. He fails and God restores him. He falls again, and God lets him follow his own path. David stays behind at Jerusalem. A little idleness pulls him away from the interests of the war. A passer-by appears on the scene: this traveller is lust.
The seriousness of the report hangs on one relationship. One writer shows why adultery weighs heavier than other sexual sin:
It is not only the evil woman, or a strange woman, or a whorish woman. It is the wife of another. The language grows more severe here, because marriage is a divine tie. God hates the breaking of it, and He judges those who break it.
The verse also names her father, Eliam. Years later that family link returns. David's most trusted adviser joins Absalom's revolt:
How was it that Absalom had the nerve to send for David's trusted counsellor? This was another sorrowful bit of reaping from former sin. Ahithophel appears to have been Bathsheba's grandfather. We can well understand that he had never forgiven David for the way he treated his granddaughter. (Compare 2 Sam. 11:3 and 2 Sam. 23:34.)
The passage is not given so readers can feel superior to David. The same writer turns it back on us:
Any of us might easily have done the same thing had we been in David's place. Most of us have not been careful enough to keep our own conscience completely tender and clean. We have not been quick enough to turn our eyes from sights that stir our passions. We are in no position to throw stones at David.
Her own name is left out of Christ's family line. She appears there only through her husband:
The fourth woman is not mentioned by name — "her of Uriah," that is all it says. We know it is Bathsheba, the one with whom King David committed adultery. Here it is sin in connection with a believer. Did that sin committed by King David then undo him as a believer? No, he had believed, and grace had full sway over him.
- Idle. The fall starts before the look. David stays home instead of leading his army, and idleness gives lust its opening.
- Informed. The reply tells him she is married. He learns the one fact that should stop him, and goes on anyway.
- Insulated. His crown removes every obstacle. That ease is the curse of power.
- Inherited. The verse names her father. That family link returns years later in the counsellor who joins the revolt against David.
- Included. Christ's family line keeps her only as the wife of Uriah. The sin stands on record, and grace still rules over a believer's worst failure.
And David sent messengers, and took her; and she came in to him, and he lay with her; and she had purified herself from her uncleanness; and she returned to her house.
David is at home in Jerusalem when he should be at war, and the whole chain begins with a glance from a rooftop. Verse 4 is where the drift becomes an act, and the Lord's anointed becomes an adulterer.
Commentators trace the sin back before the sending, to a man resting at home while the army fought.
While we are at work for the Lord, whatever the work is, our nature is kept under pressure. But when we are at ease, nature begins to work and feels the pull of things around us. Satan will always find mischief for idle hearts as well as idle hands. David was made to feel this. Had he been at Rabbah with his army, his eye would not have rested on something able to stir the corrupt principle within him. The very act of staying home gave the enemy an opening.
The steps from ease to adultery are short, and each one looks small on its own.
The lesson he had learned at the end of 2 Samuel 10 should have put him back at the head of his army again. That is how a fall begins — often in a way that seems so unimportant. Again and again God reproves His servant. The man fails and God restores him. He falls again, and God lets him take his own path. David stays behind at Jerusalem; a little idleness pulls him away from the interests of the war. A passer-by comes on the scene: this traveller is lust. Something that seems desirable catches the king's gaze. His flesh is conquered. The authority he holds becomes the servant of his desire. The evil is carried out. The Lord's anointed is an adulterer!
Writers locate the start of the sin in the unguarded eye.
"I have made a covenant with my eyes; how then could I gaze at a virgin?" said Job (Job 31:1). David knew no such covenant. He looks where he should not have looked, and sin quickly follows. It is a solemn illustration of James 1:14-15: "But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death." The king of all Israel had become another Achan. "I saw — I coveted — I took" (Joshua 7:20).
David did not sin in ignorance. Two facts made the act worse: he knew the law, and he already had wives.
When he asked about her, he found she was another man's wife. Why did that fact not stop him? He already had seven wives. He knew the law of God, that an adulterer should be put to death (Deut. 22:23-24), but he used his own position as king to break God's law. The woman's husband, Uriah, was a soldier in Joab's army, so he was away from home. David sent messengers to bring her to him.
One writer catches the bitterness of the verse's last two details: she is purified, and she goes home.
The woman he finds is a wife, and the wife of one of his own brave men now at war for Israel and for him; but nothing stops him. He is a king, and everything gives way to him with the ease that is the curse of power. She goes back — purified, sadly! — to her dishonoured home.
This is not an oddity in an otherwise clean life. It measures what still lives in the best of people — and what God's grace is equal to.
Surely we may say there was a time when David would not have lain on his couch while the Lord's armies fought the enemy. There was a time when he would not have exposed a faithful servant to enemy attack to save his own reputation. But such is man — the best of men. When pride swells the heart, or lust dims the eye, who will try to set a limit to human depravity? Who can define the terrible lengths even a David can go to when he is out of communion? Blessed forever be the God of all grace, who has always proved Himself equal to every demand of His wayward children!
One writer turns the point on the reader.
Any of us could easily have done the same thing in David's place. Most of us have not been careful enough to keep our own conscience tender and clean. We have not been quick enough to turn our eyes from sights that stir our passions. We are in no position to throw stones at David.
- One idleness. David stayed home when kings went to war; ease removed the pressure that had been holding his nature down.
- One look. He had made no covenant with his eyes. Seeing became coveting, and coveting became taking — the path of Achan and of James 1:14-15.
- One abuse of power. He knew the law's penalty for adultery. He used his throne to override it, and authority became the servant of his desire.
- One dishonoured home. Bathsheba went back purified from her uncleanness — the ceremony intact, the marriage ruined.
- One warning left in the open. Out of communion, even the best of men can fall without limit. The honest reader stops throwing stones and guards his own eyes, resting in the grace that meets every demand.
And the woman conceived, and sent and told David, and said, I am with child.
Three words from Bathsheba turn a private act into a public problem David cannot bury. What he does next — and what God does with what David tries to hide — is the real subject of the chapter.
David had arranged everything quietly. Then the message arrives, and from that point damage control drives the story, not desire.
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. Uriah's devotion and honesty block him, standing in such obvious contrast to his own conduct here. At last the thought of his own shame, and of what may come of it, drives him to madness. He sends back the unsuspecting man carrying his own death warrant.
The pregnancy adds no new temptation. It forces the first sin into the open, and a second follows.
No sin goes single. It is impossible to embrace or allow one sin and be free of others. Allow one sin, and God will give you over to others. When Judas began to play the thief, I question whether he meant to turn traitor; no, his treason was a punishment for his thievery.
The warning reaches back before the temptation, to what was already in the heart.
Are we not warned by this solemn scene? If we allow unjudged lust or covetousness in our hearts, we will be ready to fall into temptation when it crosses our path. Further, one sin leads to another. We cannot stop just according to our own will in the path of sin. As one has said, "A man cannot stop his boat at will in the strong currents just above Niagara, though he might have avoided them altogether."
What made concealment feel necessary was not fear of a court. David was the king; there was no court above him. It was his standing in other people's eyes.
It is not only that David sins in the matter of Bathsheba, but he uses his royal, God-given power to cover up the sin. He stood before no human court, but he has a reputation in the eyes of men, and he must keep it at all cost. How true it is, "The way of transgressors is hard"! Lust conceives and brings forth sin. It hurries him on — and so does the thought of his own reputation — to add murder to it, in the vain hope of blotting it out.
note required when quote keeps older wording
The plan worked, as far as men could see. That was as far as it could ever work.
The nearer David was to God, the less his efforts to hide his sin succeeded. Left to himself for a time as chastening, he adds a second transgression to the first. He completes it and enjoys its fruit, now that every obstacle is gone and his course looks lawful. What a sad history!
God's answer matched the cover-up point for point — hidden act, public judgment.
This was a very great sin: David committed it in secret; God punishes it in the sight of all Israel.
The reason given is not a sudden change of character. It is a long neglect of self-examination.
This is what an unexercised conscience can bring a David to. This is what lack of self-judgment, with temptation and opportunity, may make of a saint! Shall we not cry afresh, with David himself, "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!"
The account does not aim to make us despise David. It ends our confidence in the best of men, ourselves included, and points us to the grace of God.
Such, however, is man — the best of men. When pride swells the heart, or lust dims the eye, who shall attempt to draw a limit to human depravity? Who shall define the fearful lengths to which even a David can go, when he is out of communion with God? Blessed forever be the God of all grace, who has ever proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children!
- Conceived — the news of pregnancy is where hidden sin begins producing consequences no one planned and no one can stop.
- Compounded — no sin goes single. To escape the first, David commits a second. No one stops his boat in that current at will.
- Covered — reputation drove the cover-up. David turned God-given royal power into a tool for hiding the truth from men.
- Uncovered — David sinned in secret. God punished it in the sight of all Israel. The nearer a person is to God, the less concealment works.
- Cured — the root was an unexercised conscience. The remedy is David's own prayer, "Search me, O God" — prayed before the fall, not after.
And David sent to Joab [saying], Send me Urijah the Hittite. And Joab sent Urijah to David.
David has already sinned with Bathsheba, and word has come that she is pregnant. His first move is not confession but an order to the army — and the man he calls home is the husband he has wronged.
The message to Joab is not a fresh start but the next step in a chain. The sin had a consequence. David spent his energy escaping it, not owning it.
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. Uriah's devotion and honesty stand out plainly against David's own conduct here, and they thwart him. At last the thought of his own shame, and of what may come of it, drives him to madness. He sends the unsuspecting man back with his own death warrant in his hand. The unscrupulous man he knows so well will carry it out, and will serve him in it.
Something had already gone wrong before David sent that order. A person who is living in the awareness of God does not scheme like this.
How long did the satisfying of his flesh last? He has barely committed the fault before it bears fruit — a pregnancy. The situation is serious and the king is full of fear. His good name is compromised; his sin will come out; he must hide it. We always behave in this way when we have lost the sense of God's presence. David is caught in these circumstances. He struggles and wants to manage them. In his blindness he fails to see that God is directing them.
David can send this order because he is king. He turns the authority God gave him into a shield for his own name.
It is not only that David sins in the matter of Bathsheba, but he uses his royal, God-given power to cover up the sin. He stood before no earthly court, but he has a reputation in the eyes of men, and this must be kept at all cost. How true it is, "The way of the treacherous is their ruin"! Lust conceives and gives birth to sin. That sin hurries him on, and so does the thought of his own reputation, until he adds murder to it — all in the vain hope of blotting it out. He succeeds; the power is in his hand — sadly, the power God had entrusted to him, and this is the use he puts it to.
(The writer's older translation reads here, "The way of transgressors is hard.")
Uriah is named with his nationality — a Hittite, a foreigner in Israel's army. The plan collapses on the character of the very man David chose to use.
Later, in the days of David, the stranger is again held up with honour. This appears first in Uriah. He was a Hittite. Yet his faithfulness to the God of Israel, and his self-giving zeal for the cause of Israel, shine out beside even Israel's chief and noblest and best son in that day. This poor remnant of the defiled Gentiles rebukes no less a son of Israel than king David himself.
Uriah's plain loyalty was enough to wreck the scheme, and it forced David further:
A Hittite in David's army, with whose wife, Bathsheba, David committed adultery. The simple faithfulness of Uriah defeated David in his attempt to cover his sin. David added to his wrongdoing by securing Uriah's death, with Joab's cooperation, at the hands of the Ammonites.
The order goes through Joab. From this point the commander knows what the king wants kept quiet.
Above all, Joab sought to make himself indispensable. The best way to achieve this was to cater to the king's weaknesses. When David rid himself of Uriah by placing him in Joab's hands, Joab did not speak a single word of reproach; he acted without hesitation. Guilty David had gained a discreet accomplice. But this accomplice, by that very discretion, becomes David's master. From now on the king's reputation depends on Joab.
Hiding the sin was hopeless from the start, and David's nearness to God is the reason.
The closer David was to God, the more useless were his efforts to hide his sin. Left to himself for a time as chastisement, he adds a second offence to the first... But who can escape the eye of God? So God, who knows and loves him, does not fail to visit his sin.
The lesson is pressed on every reader:
...should we fall into a sin, never, never seek to cover it up by another, still worse than the first. A course of deceit positively blights the soul, destroying all simplicity, all joy, all communion.
- Cover. The order "send me Uriah" is a cover-up, not a confession — and covering sin only breeds more sin.
- Cause. David schemes because he has lost the sense of God's presence. That loss is what makes anyone hide.
- Cost. He spends God-given royal power on guarding his own name. It works — and that is the tragedy.
- Contrast. Uriah the foreigner is simply faithful. His loyalty wrecks the plan and rebukes the king who sent for him.
- Chain. Joab's silence buys David an accomplice who becomes his master. But no one escapes the eye of God.
And when Urijah had come to him, David asked how Joab prospered, and how the people prospered, and how the war prospered.
David has sinned with Bathsheba, and news of her pregnancy has turned a private sin into a problem he must manage. So he calls her husband home from the front and asks him about the war — but why is he asking, and why is he not there himself?
David asks about his commander Joab, the troops, and the fighting. None of that is the real reason Uriah is standing in front of him.
He has Uriah brought from the camp and hypocritically asks him about Joab, the people, and the war (v. 7). Did he really care? Were not all his thoughts directed toward the single object of hiding his sin?
The next verse shows what the small talk was leading up to: an instruction to go home, followed by a gift.
Uriah may have wondered why David had brought him back. David only asked how the battle was going. Then he told Uriah to go home and wash his feet — a soldier's feet need special care. When Uriah left, David sent a present after him (v. 8).
The man asking how the war is going is the man who stayed home from it. Failing at his own work left him open to another master.
It is safe and healthy to be hard at work in service — service that flows out of communion with God. That way we stand in open hostility to the enemy. But if we are not acting against him, he will use us as tools for his own purposes. When David failed in energy as the captain of the hosts of Israel, he became the slave of lust.
Once David hears of the pregnancy, he stops acting as king. He acts as a man protecting his name.
The sin has barely been committed before it bears fruit — a pregnancy. The situation is serious and the king is full of apprehension. His good name is at risk. His sin will come out. He must hide it. We always behave in this way when we have lost the sense of God's presence. David is caught in these circumstances. He struggles and tries to manage them. In his blindness he does not see that God is directing them.
David's method — hiding one sin behind another — carries a warning for the rest of us.
David was guilty of lying (1 Sam. 21:2) and of the most terrible deceit (2 Sam. 11). By this he tried to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. How often some earlier sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying. Dear friends, above all else let us seek to be straight with God, with other people, and with ourselves. And if we do fall into a sin, never, never try to cover it up with another sin, worse than the first.
Uriah will not go home while the army sleeps in the field. His refusal wrecks the plan and shames the man who made it.
His conscience seems to have been hardened here, and not open to conviction as we would expect. If it had been open, he would surely have hesitated before adding the sin of murder to that of adultery. He would have grieved under Uriah's sharp reproof — all the sharper because Uriah never meant it as a reproof — when he said, "The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house?" What a rebuke to David! The Lord and His people were in the open fields, fighting Israel's enemies. But David was at home, enjoying comfort and indulging the desires of nature.
The private interview was meant to keep the matter quiet. It did not.
This was a very great sin: David committed it in secret; God punishes it in the sight of all Israel. David did not know how to glorify God. He reigned in God's name, yet he did not keep a true testimony about the nature of God's kingdom; he falsified its character instead. So God Himself will know how, in front of everyone, to trace that kingdom's true features again — through the chastisement He sends on the man who has dishonoured Him.
Yet the failure is not the last word.
Who can define the fearful lengths to which even a David can go, when he is out of communion with God? Blessed for ever be the God of all grace, who has always proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children!
- Absent. David stayed back from the war; when he failed as captain of Israel's armies, he became the slave of lust.
- Alarmed. The pregnancy exposed him, and a man who has lost the sense of God's presence moves straight to hiding.
- Acting. His questions about Joab, the troops and the fighting were a screen. One thought filled his mind: hiding the sin.
- Answered. Uriah would not go home while the ark and the army were in the field. He never meant his words as a rebuke, but they shamed the king and wrecked the plan.
- All Israel. David sinned in secret. God dealt with it before all Israel. And He still proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children.
And David said to Urijah, Go down to thy house and wash thy feet. And Urijah departed out of the king's house, and there followed him presents from the king.
David has already sinned with Bathsheba, and now word has reached him that she is pregnant. Verse 8 is the first move of the cover-up. David calls the husband home from the camp with a kind word and a gift, and the whole plan turns on whether Uriah goes.
Nothing in David's orders sounds sinister. One writer traces the alarm behind them.
Alarmed at this, David planned a subtle way to keep his sin from being discovered. He sent orders to Joab to send Uriah back to Jerusalem. Uriah may have wondered why David had brought him back. David only asked how the battle was going. Then he told Uriah to go to his house and wash his feet, for a soldier's feet need special care. When Uriah left, David sent a present after him.
Before the order to go home came the small talk about the war. Another writer questions whether David cared about the answers.
He has Uriah brought from the camp and hypocritically asks him about Joab, the people, and the war. Did he really care? Were not all his thoughts directed toward the single object of hiding his sin?
David is not honouring this soldier. He is using him as a screen, and when kindness fails he goes further.
See how far David was carried into evil. He sacrificed his character to give in to his desires. Now he tries to use Uriah as a screen to hide himself from the public eye. He must keep his reputation at all cost. He tries kindness, but in vain. He makes the wronged and dishonoured Uriah drunk, but to no purpose. At last he murders him by the sword of the Ammonites. How dreadful!
David's throne was a trust from God. Here he uses it against a loyal soldier.
He forgets his position as king, and a king from God. Was it reigning in righteousness to take advantage of his royal power to oppress Uriah? He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him an accomplice in his crime. How degrading! He was far happier in the days when he was hunted like a partridge in the mountains. Then he had a living faith and a good conscience!
This verse is where the cover-up begins. Commentators read it as a warning for everyone, not just kings.
We come to David. He was guilty of both lying and deceit of the most fearful kind. By this he sought to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. Oh, how often some earlier sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying. Dear friends, above all things, let us seek to be straight with God, with other people, and with ourselves. And if we do fall into a sin, never, never seek to cover it up by another one, worse than the first. A life of deceit blights the soul. It destroys all simplicity, all joy, all fellowship.
David's scheme depended on Uriah going home. One thing stopped it.
The simple faithfulness of Uriah foiled David in his effort to cover his sin.
The failure was not bad luck. One writer explains why the cover-up was doomed from the start.
The nearer David was to God, the more useless his efforts to hide his sin became. … But who can escape the eye of God? God, who knows and loves him, does not fail to deal with his sin.
- Cover-up begins. Alarmed by news of the pregnancy, David sends for Uriah and tells him to go home. It is a subtle plan to keep his sin from being discovered.
- Cover-up disguised. Questions about Joab, an invitation home, a gift sent after him — the kindness has one aim. David wants to hide his sin.
- Cover-up armed. David bends a God-given throne to protect his reputation, and makes himself a slave to Joab, his accomplice.
- Cover-up blocked. One soldier's simple faithfulness ruins the scheme. The nearer David was to God, the more useless his cover-up became.
- Cover-up warned against. Never patch one sin with another. Deceit blights the soul. It destroys simplicity, joy, and fellowship.
And Urijah slept at the entrance of the king's house with all the servants of his lord, and went not down to his house.
David's plan was simple. Bring Uriah home from the front, give him a night with his wife, and the coming child would raise no questions. Verse 9 is where that plan breaks — not by resistance, but by one soldier's ordinary sense of duty.
The king had given Uriah every encouragement to go home, including a gift sent after him. One writer traces the steps and where they stopped:
Alarmed at this, David came up with a subtle plan to hide his sin. He sent orders to Joab to send Uriah back to Jerusalem. Uriah may have wondered why David had brought him back. David only asked how the battle was going. Then he told Uriah to go home and wash his feet, since a soldier's feet need special care. When Uriah left, David sent a present after him (v.8). But he did not go there, and stayed overnight with others of David's servants in the servants' quarters.
Uriah's refusal was not stubbornness. David himself had once spoken the same way. He was uneasy in his own fine house while the ark of God — the chest that marked God's presence with Israel — stayed in a tent:
Uriah, whom the king sent to his wife, instead slept with all the king's other servants at the palace door. … He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 did not David say to Nathan: "See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, while the ark of God dwells in a tent"? His attendants had taken in this godly desire and testimony of David's, and it had borne fruit in them. Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. … The man is simple and noble in heart. He says: God is calling me to a service, a work for Himself, and as long as He does not rest I cannot rest.
Uriah was not born an Israelite. That makes what he put first that night striking:
Uriah's first thought is concerning the ark of God. How could he think of resting in his house when God's ark was under a tent in the field of battle? He thought of Israel, of Judah, of Joab, and of the troops, but his first thought was of the ark. This brave man was not an Israelite by birth, but a Hittite, one by nature an enemy of Israel. Yet he had come to Israel, and he was loyal to Israel's king. He clearly valued the ark of the Lord above all else in the land he had adopted as his own.
Uriah had no idea what he was interrupting. That is what made his answer cut so deep:
It would seem that his conscience had grown hard on this occasion, and was not open to conviction as we should expect. Had it been otherwise, he would surely have faltered and hesitated before he added the sin of murder to that of adultery. He would have mourned under the sharp reproof of Uriah — only the sharper because it was entirely unintentional. … What a rebuke to David! The Lord and His people were in the open fields, fighting the enemies of Israel, but David was at home enjoying his ease and indulging the desires of nature.
Uriah's night at the door did not stop David. Being near to God does not make hiding sin easier. It makes it harder:
The nearer David was to God, the less his efforts to hide his sin worked. Left to himself for a time as discipline, he adds a second transgression to the first. … He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him a partner in his crime. How degrading! How much happier he was when he had a living faith and a good conscience, even though he was hunted like a partridge in the mountains! But who can escape the eye of God?
The king thought he was managing events. He was not:
He had hardly committed the sin before it bore its fruit — a pregnancy. The situation is serious and the king is full of fear. His character is compromised. His sin will come out. He must hide it. We always behave in this way when we have lost the awareness of God's presence. David is caught in these circumstances. He struggles and wants to handle them. In his blindness he fails to see that God is directing them.
- Ease — The Lord's people were fighting in the open fields while David stayed at home, enjoying his comfort.
- Cover — Once he lost the awareness of God's presence, hiding the sin became his whole aim. The hiding is what dragged him from adultery to murder.
- Door — Uriah slept at the king's door because the ark was in a tent. The devotion David once taught him now blocked David's way out.
- Rebuke — The sharpest reproof of that night was unintended. It came from a foreign-born soldier who knew nothing of the plot.
- Exposure — David thought he was managing events. God was directing them. Being near to God never makes a cover-up work.
And they had told David saying, Urijah did not go down to his house; and David said to Urijah, Art thou not come from a journey? why didst thou not go down to thy house?
David has already sinned with Bathsheba, and he needs the sin hidden. So he calls her husband Uriah home from the siege at Rabbah — but Uriah will not go down to his own house, and in this verse the king asks him why.
David's questions sound like a commander's care for his men. One writer reads them differently:
On hearing this, David questioned Uriah as to why he did not go to his house when he had opportunity after some time of being away from home (v.10). Uriah's reply must have been a pointed lesson to David as to self restraint. He had decided that, since the ark and Israel were in temporary shelters, and that Joab and the army were camping in the open, engaged in serious combat for the sake of Israel, he was not going to relax and enjoy himself at home as though he was not a part of Israel's defence: he would virtually remain "on guard."
The ark was the golden chest that marked God's presence with His people. It was the first thing on the mind of this foreign soldier:
Uriah's first thought is concerning the ark of God. How could he think of resting in his house when God's ark was under a tent in the field of battle? He thought of Israel, of Judah, of Joab, and of the troops, but his first thought was of the ark. This brave man was not an Israelite by birth. He was a Hittite, by nature an enemy of Israel. Yet he had come to Israel, he was loyal to the king of Israel, and he clearly valued the ark of the LORD above everything else in the land he had made his own.
Uriah knew nothing of what had happened in the palace. That is what made his words cut so deep:
It seems his conscience was hard at this time. It was not open to conviction, as we would expect it to be. If it had been, he would surely have faltered before he added the sin of murder to the sin of adultery. He would have mourned under Uriah's sharp reproof — all the sharper because Uriah never meant it as a reproof — when he said, "The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house?" What a rebuke to David! The Lord and His people were in the open fields, fighting the uncircumcised enemies of Israel. But David was at home, taking his ease and indulging the desires of nature.
The most painful part of Uriah's answer is where he learned it. David had once spoken the same way himself:
He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 did not David say to Nathan: "See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, and the ark of God dwells in a tent"? David's servants had taken in this godly desire and this testimony, and it had borne fruit in them. Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. Without meaning to, what a reproach he brings to his honoured master! The man is simple and noble in heart. He says, God is calling me to perform a service, an activity for Himself, and as long as He does not rest I cannot rest.
All of this traces back to one choice: David stayed home while his army fought. That choice, one writer says, is where the door opened:
While we are at work for the Lord, whatever that work may be, nature is held down. But when we are at ease, nature begins to work, and it feels the pull and influence of things around us. We should seriously ponder this. Satan will ever find mischief for idle hearts, as well as idle hands. David came to feel this. If he had been at Rabbah with his army, his eye would never have fallen on something able to stir the corrupt principle inside him. Staying at home was itself the opening that let the enemy in.
David's question was the first step in a cover-up. The warning drawn from it is direct:
We pass over several others and come to David. He was guilty of both lying and deceit of the most terrible kind. He used them to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. How often some previous sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying. Dear friends, above all things let us be straight with God, with other people, and with ourselves. And if we do fall into a sin, never, never try to cover it up with another sin, worse than the first.
- Ease — David stayed home while his army fought. Satan finds mischief for idle hearts.
- Cover — His question was not concern but concealment. He brought Uriah home to hide his sin.
- Conscience — Uriah's answer cut deep because he never meant it as a rebuke. David's conscience was hard, and he did not flinch.
- Contrast — A foreign soldier put the ark first and refused comfort while God's people camped in the open. Israel's king did the opposite.
- Consequence — Covering sin with more sin doubles it. The only way out is to be straight with God at once.
And Urijah said to David, The ark, and Israel, and Judah abide in booths; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord, are encamped in the open fields shall I then go into my house, to eat and to drink, and to lie with my wife? [As] thou livest, and [as] thy soul liveth, I will not do this thing.
David's army was at war in the field while the king stayed home in Jerusalem. He called Bathsheba's husband back from the front, and the soldier's reply became the sharpest rebuke in the chapter — from a man who never meant to give one.
Uriah's words cut because of where David was when he heard them. Commentators note that the ark had gone out with the army, and the king had not.
Uriah's words suggest that the ark was in the battle area with the armies of Israel, but the king was not with the ark. Had David been there, sharing the dangers and hardships of his soldiers, he would have escaped the terrible temptation that met him. He would also have escaped the very solemn and sad stain on his history, when he dishonoured the Lord.
Notice the order in Uriah's sentence. The ark — the chest that stood for God's presence with Israel — was out in the field, sheltered under a tent. Uriah names it first, before the army, his commander, and his fellow soldiers.
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Uriah's first thought is about the ark of God. How could he think of resting in his house when God's ark was under a tent in the field of battle? He thought of Israel, of Judah, of Joab, and of the troops, but his first thought was of the ark. This brave man was not an Israelite by birth. He was a Hittite, one by nature an enemy of Israel. Yet he had come to Israel, and he was loyal to the king of Israel. It was plain that he valued the ark of the Lord above everything else in the land he had adopted.
Uriah did not invent this refusal. He learned it from the king himself, who had once said much the same thing to the prophet Nathan.
He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 did not David say to Nathan: "See now, I dwell in a house of cedars, and the ark of God dwells under curtains"? David's attendants had taken in this godly desire and this testimony of his, and it had borne fruit in them. Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. What an unwitting reproach he addresses to his respected master! The man is simple and noble in heart. He says, God is calling me to perform a service, an activity for Himself, and as long as He does not rest I cannot rest.
Uriah meant no criticism at all. That is what makes his words so severe — and David's reaction so alarming.
It seems his conscience had grown hard on this occasion. It was not open to conviction as we would expect. Had it been otherwise, he would have faltered and hesitated before he added the sin of murder to that of adultery. He would have mourned under Uriah's sharp reproof — all the sharper because Uriah never meant it as a reproof. What a rebuke to David! The Lord and His people were in the open fields, fighting the enemies of Israel. David was at home, enjoying comfort and indulging the desires of nature.
Uriah seals his refusal with an oath, and he keeps it. David's next move was to get him drunk — and even that did not shift him.
When David failed to get Uriah to go to his home the first night, he tried another tactic: he told Uriah to stay in Jerusalem two more days, but had him eat and drink with him until Uriah became drunk, thinking this would tempt Uriah to go home. But this plan failed too. Uriah again slept with the servants.
That immovable loyalty is what forced David's hand, and what cost Uriah his life.
Uriah's simple faithfulness ruined David's plan to cover his sin. David added to his wrongdoing by arranging Uriah's death, with the help of Joab, at the hands of the Ammonites.
Uriah would not rest while the fighting went on. Commentators press the same point on God's people today.
But the bright day when we shall rest has not yet arrived. He therefore urges the saints to be diligent in the meantime. Now is the time for work. Everyone who has the love of Christ in such a world as this must feel it, because sin and misery cover the world. Divine love, whether in God or in His people, refuses to rest in evil or in misery.
- Position. David's fall began before Bathsheba — with a king at home while the ark was in a tent on the battlefield.
- Priority. Uriah names the ark first — before army, commander, or comrades. A Hittite outsider valued God's presence above everything.
- Pupil. He learned it from David himself. Without knowing it, he echoes the king's own earlier words about cedar and curtains.
- Piercing. Uriah never meant to rebuke, which made it sharper. David's hard conscience felt nothing, and he went on to murder.
- Pattern. As long as God has not taken His rest, His servants do not settle down — now is the time for work, not ease.
And David said to Urijah, Abide here to-day also, and to-morrow I will let thee depart. And Urijah abode in Jerusalem that day and the morrow.
David's first plan has failed. Uriah would not go home to his wife, so David's sin is still uncovered. Now the king asks him to stay one more day. The delay looks like hospitality. It is a second try at the same cover-up.
The next verse shows what the extra evening was for.
When David failed to get Uriah to go to his home the first night, he tried another tactic. He told Uriah to stay in Jerusalem for two more days, but had him eat and drink with him until Uriah became drunk. David thought that in this way he could tempt Uriah to go to his home. But this plan failed too: Uriah again slept with the servants.
David is no longer only guilty of the first sin. Look at what hiding it does to his conscience.
And sin follows sin. The offspring of sin is sin. What cunning and deception followed! But honest Uriah frustrates his wicked plan. Did not David's conscience smart under it? No doubt it was deadened.
Uriah's answer the day before is why David now needs a second day. Where did a soldier learn to talk like that?
What a beautiful answer Uriah gives: "The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house?" He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 did not David say to Nathan: "See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent"? David's attendants had taken in this godly desire and this testimony of his, and it had borne fruit in them. Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. What an unintended reproach he addresses to his respected master!
The extra day buys David nothing. He is fighting more than one stubborn soldier.
David pays no attention to these earnest words. He cares about one thing only: pushing Uriah into the act that will let the king cover up his sin. He gets his servant drunk, but even so Uriah stays firm in his decision. Like a caged bird David struggles helplessly against the hand that has shut him in. Satan suggests the one way to escape public exposure of his fault. So David becomes Uriah's murderer.
The warning here is for anyone, not just for kings.
We come to David. He was guilty both of lying (1 Samuel 21:2) and of deceit of the most dreadful kind (2 Samuel 11). By this deceit he tried to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. How often some earlier sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying. Dear friends, above all things let us seek to be straight with God, with other people, and with ourselves. And if we do fall into a sin, never, never try to cover it up with another one, still worse than the first. A course of deceit truly blights the soul. It destroys all simplicity, all joy, all communion.
Nothing David did hid the sin from God. He carried it for the better part of a year.
David did not confess his sin to God at once. Psalm 32:3-4 shows that the Lord waited for some time before sending the prophet Nathan to him — likely over nine months, since a son had been born to Bathsheba. He was giving David the chance to confess his sin freely. In that time, as David says, God's hand was heavy on him "day and night." How could his conscience have any rest?
David was not always this man. That is what makes his fall so frightening.
Surely we may say there was a time when David would not have been lying on his couch while the armies of the Lord fought the enemy. There was a time when he would not have exposed a faithful servant to the enemy's attack to save his own reputation. Such, however, is man — the best of men. When pride swells the heart, or lust dims the eye, who shall try to set a limit to human depravity? Who shall define the frightening lengths to which even a David can go when out of communion? Blessed for ever be the God of all grace, who has always proved Himself equal to all the demands of His wayward children!
- Delay. "Remain here today also" is not courtesy. It is a second try at the same cover-up, and it sets up the drinking in the next verse.
- Cover. Sin produces sin. Each try at hiding the first one deadens the conscience and, as one writer puts it, makes the sin twice as bad.
- Contrast. Uriah learned his devotion from David. Without meaning to, the loyal soldier rebukes the king with the king's own words.
- Cage. The cover-up never succeeds. David struggles like a trapped bird, and the only exit Satan offers him is murder.
- Confession. God waited months, and His hand lay heavy on David. The way out was never a better plan. It was honesty before the God of all grace.
And David invited him, and he ate and drank before him; and he made him drunk. And in the evening he went out to lie on his couch with the servants of his lord, but did not go down to his house.
David has already sinned with Bathsheba. He called Uriah home from the war to make the coming child look like Uriah's. The first night's plan failed. So on the second day the king tried wine, and this verse records both the plan and its collapse.
The point of the meal was not hospitality. One writer follows the line from that meal to its end, and names what David was guarding.
And notice how far David went in doing evil. He sacrificed his character to indulge nature. Now he tries to use Uriah as a cloak to screen him from the public eye. He must keep his reputation at all cost. He tries kindness, but in vain. He makes the wronged and dishonoured Uriah drunk, but to no purpose. At last he murders him by the sword of the children of Ammon. How dreadful!
The Hebrew word behind "drunk" is no softer than it sounds. A study of the Bible's drink terms lists this verse among the places where the verb carries its plain force:
Scripture often uses the verb form (as in Genesis 9:21; 1 Samuel 1:14; 2 Samuel 11:13; Isaiah 29:9, and others) to mean intoxication.
The plan behind the wine was simple:
When David failed to get Uriah to go home the first night, he tried another tactic. He told Uriah to stay in Jerusalem two more days, and had him eat and drink with him until Uriah became drunk. David thought that in this way he would tempt Uriah to go to his home. But this plan failed too: Uriah again slept with the servants.
The wine did not bend Uriah. He lay down again with the king's servants and did not go home. That loyalty drove David to his next move.
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. Uriah's devotion and honesty stop him, and they stand out plainly against David's own conduct here. At last the thought of his own shame, and of what may come of it, drives David to madness. He sends the unsuspecting man back with his own death warrant in his hand.
Commentators are agreed that nothing in this scene shocked David into stopping. One writer asks the obvious question about the king's conscience and answers it bluntly.
The offspring of sin is sin. What cunning and deception followed! But honest Uriah frustrates his wicked plan. Did not David's conscience smart under it? No doubt it was deadened. Then he becomes the murderer of Uriah the Hittite.
David held every advantage in that room — the crown, the table, the wine. Another writer weighs what using them cost him.
The nearer David was to God, the less his attempts to conceal his sin could succeed. Left to himself for a time as chastening, he adds a second transgression to the first... He forgets his position as king, and a king from God. Was it reigning in righteousness to take advantage of his royal power to oppress Uriah? He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him an accomplice in his crime. How degrading! How much happier he was back when they hunted him like a partridge in the mountains, but he had a living faith and a good conscience! But who can escape the eye of God? God knows him and loves him, and He does not fail to deal with his sin.
One writer turns David's case on the reader.
David was guilty both of lying and of terrible deceit. He used them to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. How often some earlier sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying! Dear friends, let us above all things seek to be straight with God, with our fellow men, and with ourselves. And if we fall into a sin, never, never seek to cover it up with another one, still worse than the first. A course of deceit ruins the soul. It destroys all simplicity, all joy, all fellowship. In David's case these sins led to sufferings of almost unmatched severity, at the hands of his own children.
- Cover. David's aim at that table was not friendship. He wanted Uriah as a cloak to screen him from the public eye.
- Wine. The word means real drunkenness. The drink was a tactic, meant to tempt Uriah home so the child would look like his.
- Failure. Drunk, Uriah still slept with the servants. The devotion that defeated the plan is what sent him back carrying his own death warrant.
- Escalation. Each cover-up cost more than the sin it hid: deceit, then murder, then a king made the slave of Joab, his own accomplice.
- Exposure. No one escapes the eye of God. So never cover one sin with another, still worse than the first.
And it came to pass in the morning, that David wrote a letter to Joab, and sent it by Urijah.
David has already taken Bathsheba, and Uriah will not go home to his wife, so the cover-up has failed. Now the king reaches for the pen — and the man who carries the note is the man it condemns.
The horror of this verse is in who carries the letter. One sin now drives the next:
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. Uriah's devotion and honesty stop him short, standing out so clearly against his own conduct here. At last the thought of his own shame, and of what may come of it, drives him to madness. So he sends the unsuspecting man back with his own death warrant in his hand. The unscrupulous man he knows so well is to carry it out, and to serve him by it.
Uriah's answer echoed words the king himself had once spoken about the ark:
He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 did not David say to Nathan, "See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent"? His attendants had taken in this godly desire and testimony of David's, and it had borne fruit in them. Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. What an unwitting reproach he addresses to his respected master!
The letter does not only kill Uriah; it pulls a second man into the murder:
Not only would David make himself guilty of the murder of Uriah, but he would implicate Joab and others in this too. Joab of course would say he had to obey his master. But in this case he ought to have had a conscience toward God that would not let him obey David.
And an accomplice who knows the secret does not stay a servant:
The same David who had said, "Let the blood of Abner fall on the head of Joab" (2 Sam. 3:28-29), now takes this Joab, a murderer himself, as his accomplice. So David becomes the slave of the man who had every interest in bringing him into bondage.
David uses the power of his throne to guard his own name:
It is not only that David sins in the matter of Bathsheba, but he uses his royal, God-given power to cover up the sin. He stood before no earthly court, but he has a reputation in the eyes of men, and he must keep it at all cost. How true it is, "The way of the treacherous is their ruin"! Lust conceives and gives birth to sin. Sin hurries him on, and so does the thought of his own reputation. He adds murder to it, in the vain hope of blotting it out. He succeeds; the power is in his hand — sadly, the power God had entrusted him with, and this is the use to which he puts it.
(Older translations of Proverbs 13:15 read "the way of transgressors is hard.")
David never strikes a blow himself. God's verdict ignores the distance:
There was no room for evasion or excuse. "You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword." But David had struck no blow. Uriah died as a soldier by the hand of the enemy. Had David covered over his sins with such an excuse? If he had, he could do it no longer. "You have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites" were words whose truth he could not deny. In this case every distinction between legal guilt and moral guilt collapsed. David had signed no death warrant. The Ammonites who struck Uriah knew nothing of David's plot against the life of his faithful servant. Yet in God's eyes it was as much David's act as if he had put out his own hand and struck him dead.
David meant this to stay between himself and Joab. It did not:
This was a very great sin: David committed it in secret; God punishes it in the sight of all Israel. David did not know how to glorify God. While reigning in His name, he did not keep a true testimony to the nature of God's kingdom; instead he falsified its character. But God Himself will know how to retrace its features in the sight of all men. He will do it through the chastisement He sends on the man who has dishonoured Him — the man who had taken away the only witness to His government which God had set up before men.
- Cover-up. The letter exists only because a first sin needed hiding; sin follows sin, and David adds murder to hide the first.
- Courier. Uriah carries his own death warrant. The loyalty he learned from David is what marked him out as the target.
- Accomplice. Joab obeys when conscience toward God should have stopped him. The king who buys his silence becomes his slave.
- Clean hands. No blow struck, no warrant signed — yet God says, "You have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites."
- Exposure. David acted in secret; God answered in the sight of all Israel.
And he wrote in the letter saying, Set Urijah in the front of the thickest fight, and withdraw from him, that he may be smitten and die.
David had already sinned with Bathsheba, and his efforts to send her husband Uriah home had failed. So the king wrote an order and handed it to the man it was written against.
The order went to Joab, the army commander. One commentator traces what it would achieve, and who else it would stain:
David did not even try to hide his intentions about Uriah. He told Joab to place him in the front line of the fiercest battle, then pull everyone else back. Uriah would then stand as the only target for the enemy, and so be killed. Not only would David make himself guilty of the murder of Uriah, but he would implicate Joab and others in this too. Joab, of course, would say he had to obey his master. But in this case he ought to have had a conscience toward God that would not let him obey David.
The letter travelled in the hand of the man it condemned. One sin now called for another to hide it:
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. He is thwarted by the devotion and honesty that contrast so plainly with his own conduct here. At last, driven to madness by the thought of his own shame and what may come of it, he sends back the unsuspecting man with his own death warrant in his hand. The unscrupulous man he knows so well is to carry it out, and to serve him by it.
Uriah would not sleep at home while the army camped in the field. His reason echoed words David himself had once spoken:
What a beautiful answer Uriah gives: "The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house?" He had learned this devotion in the school of David himself. In 2 Samuel 7:2 David said to Nathan: "See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent." … Uriah speaks like the David of earlier days. Without meaning to, he rebukes the master he respects!
David held his crown from God. Here he turned royal power against one of his own soldiers, and ended up owned by his accomplice:
The nearer David was to God, the less his attempts to conceal his sin succeeded. Left to himself for a time as chastening, he adds a second transgression to the first… He forgets his position as king, and a king from God. Was it reigning in righteousness to take advantage of his royal power to oppress Uriah? He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him a partner in his crime. How degrading! How much happier he was when he was hunted like a partridge in the mountains, but had a living faith and a good conscience! Yet who can escape the eye of God? So God, who knows and loves him, does not fail to deal with his sin.
David wrote this letter to bury an earlier sin. That is where the deepest damage lies:
David was guilty of lying and of deceit of the most fearful kind. By it he tried to cover up an awful sin, and so made it twice as bad. How often some earlier sin is the cause of a long course of deceit and lying. Dear friends, let us above all things seek to be straight with God, with our fellow men, and with ourselves. And should we fall into a sin, never, never seek to cover it up by another, still worse than the first.
Joab obeyed, Uriah died, and the chapter closes with the one opinion David had left out of his planning:
At the end of this chapter, so full of corruption and shame, we find a little expression, the only thing David had not thought of and the only one he ought to have remembered: "But the thing that David had done displeased the LORD."
H. L. Rossier (an older translation reads "was evil in the sight of Jehovah")
That verdict is not the end of the story, and the commentators refuse to let readers stand above David:
The rest of this sad and shameful story of lying and murder might have been written about the writer or the reader, if we had stood in the same place. Only the grace of God kept us from it. But even such a sin can be forgiven. On the broken-hearted cry, "I have sinned against the LORD," comes the instant reply, "The LORD also has put away your sin."
- Concealment. David wrote the letter to hide an earlier sin. The cover-up, not the first fall, produced the murder.
- Corruption. The cover-up needed helpers, so David pulled Joab and other soldiers into his guilt. Orders from a king were no defence for Joab.
- Captivity. Concealment cost David his freedom: the king who made Joab a partner in crime became Joab's slave.
- Contrast. Uriah carried the order against his own life. He was living out the devotion he learned from David — the victim was the sharpest rebuke.
- Conviction, then grace. David forgot the eye of God. Yet the same record shows a broken-hearted confession meeting instant forgiveness.
And it came to pass as Joab watched the city, that he assigned Urijah to a place where he knew that the valiant men were.
David's letter has arrived, and Joab now carries it out. The siege becomes the cover for a killing. The test falls on two men: Uriah, who never learns what he carried, and Joab, who knows what David asked and does it anyway.
David's order was not disguised, and Joab had every chance to refuse it.
David did not even try to hide his intentions about Uriah. He told Joab to place him in the front line of the fiercest battle, and then pull everyone else back. Uriah would stand as the only target for the enemy, and so be killed (v.15). Not only would David make himself guilty of the murder of Uriah, but he would implicate Joab and others in this too. Joab of course would say he had to obey his master. But in this case his conscience toward God should have stopped him from obeying David.
Joab's silence was not loyalty. By saying nothing, he gained a permanent hold over the king he served.
Above all, Joab sought to make himself indispensable. The best way to achieve this was to cater to the king's weaknesses. When David rid himself of Uriah by placing him in Joab's hands, Joab did not speak a single word of reproach; he acted without hesitation. Guilty David had gained a discreet accomplice, but he is an accomplice who through this very discretion becomes David's master. From now on the king's reputation depends on Joab.
Another writer sees the same reversal as a loss of freedom. David was better off as a hunted man than as a king who owes Joab his secret.
He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him a partner in his crime. How degrading! He was far happier when men hunted him like a partridge in the mountains, but he had a living faith and a good conscience!
Joab did not pick that spot for military advantage. He picked it because it was deadly, and it cost more lives than the one he meant to take.
However, in besieging the city, Joab put Uriah in the greatest place of danger, evidently close to the wall. Men from the city saw an advantage in coming out to fight, since they had the protection of the city behind them. Joab's plan worked well — not for the good of Israel, but to have Uriah killed. Others also fell before the enemy. Joab knew this was a risk he must take to make sure Uriah died (v.17).
David commanded Israel's army because God had placed it in his hand. Now he uses that same power to remove an inconvenient man.
It is not only that David sins in the matter of Bathsheba, but he uses his royal, God-given power to cover up the sin. He stood before no earthly court, but he has a reputation in the eyes of men, and he must protect it at all cost. How true it is, "The way of transgressors is hard"! Lust conceives and gives birth to sin. That sin, and the thought of his own reputation too, drive him on to add murder to it, in the useless hope of wiping it out. He succeeds; the power is in his hand — alas! the power God had entrusted him with, and this is the use to which he puts it.
The arrangement gave David a perfect alibi. Uriah would die in war, killed by foreigners who knew nothing of any plot. God did not accept the distinction.
David had signed no death warrant. The Ammonites who struck down Uriah knew nothing of David's plot against the life of his faithful servant. Yet in God's eyes the act was as much David's as if he had signed a death warrant for Uriah's public execution, or had reached out his own hand and struck him dead. "You have struck down"! "you have killed"! Those words laid the whole affair bare. David had imagined, no doubt, that he had managed it quietly and successfully.
- Sin breeds sin. Lust gives birth to sin. Then the thought of his own reputation drives David to add murder on top of it, in the useless hope of wiping the first sin out.
- Silence is complicity. Joab's conscience toward God should have stopped him obeying David. Carrying out a wrong order does not move the guilt onto the man who gave it.
- The accomplice owns you. Joab never spoke one word of reproach, and by that discretion he becomes David's master. A shared secret is a leash.
- The cost spreads. Others fell at the wall beside Uriah. A private sin managed by public power kills people who were never part of it.
- The alibi fails. The Ammonites struck the blow, but in God's eyes the act was David's own. David arranged it quietly; God laid it bare.
And the men of the city went out and fought with Joab; and there fell some of the people, of the servants of David; and Urijah the Hittite died also.
Here David's letter does its work. Joab presses the siege of Rabbah. Some of the king's own soldiers fall at the wall, and Uriah the Hittite dies with them. Commentators ask how a king came to this, who else paid for it, and how God answered.
One writer traces the fall back further, to a king who dropped his own work.
It is well to be always on the watch, for we have a watchful enemy. "Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour," says the apostle. Satan watches for his opportunity. When he finds a soul not busy with its proper service, he is sure to draw that soul into evil… When David lost his energy as the captain of Israel's armies, he became the slave of lust.
Uriah himself carried the orders that killed him. Trying to escape one sin drove David into a worse one.
But the consequences follow, and to escape them sin follows sin. He sends for Uriah and plays the deceiver. Uriah's devotion and honesty stop him short, for they contrast so plainly with his own conduct here. At last the thought of his own shame, and of what may come of it, drives him to madness. He sends the unsuspecting man back with his own death warrant in his hand. The unscrupulous man he knows so well will carry it out, and will serve him by doing it.
The verse says some of David's servants died, not only Uriah. Joab counted those deaths as part of the price.
However, in besieging the city, Joab put Uriah in the greatest place of danger, apparently close to the wall. Men from the city saw an advantage in coming out to fight, since they had the protection of the city behind them. Joab's plan worked well — not for the good of Israel, but to have Uriah killed. Others also fell before the enemy, but Joab knew this was a risk he must take to make sure Uriah died.
Uriah was a Hittite — a foreigner by birth, serving Israel's king. Commentators note how his character shows up David's.
And afterwards, in the times of David, the foreigner is kept in view with great honour. This appears first in Uriah. He was a Hittite. Yet his faithfulness to the God of Israel, and his self-giving zeal for the cause of Israel, shine out wonderfully. They stand in contrast with even Israel's chief and noblest and best son in that day. This poor leftover of the defiled nations rebukes no less a son of Israel than King David himself.
David could not do this without Joab. Sharing the crime changed who held power over whom.
God left him to himself for a time, as discipline. So he adds a second offence to the first… He forgets his position as king, and a king from God. Was it reigning in righteousness to use his royal power to oppress Uriah? He makes himself a slave to the wretched Joab by making him a party to his crime. How degrading! He was far happier when he was hunted like a partridge in the mountains! Then he had a living faith and a good conscience.
The killing at Rabbah looked like an ordinary loss in war. God called it what it was, and answered it in public.
See God's dealings with David, because of the matter of Uriah. "The sword shall never depart from your house… you did it secretly, but I will do this thing before all Israel and before the sun." Here was judgment for David's sin. And we know that in his later life, the sword did not depart from his house.
Years later, Uriah's name still appears among David's mighty men. One writer pictures the king reading it.
When David looked over the list of His servants, how his eyes must have paused in sorrow at the name of Uriah the Hittite, which ends the list! He was among the mighty men and not the least of those hearts devoted to the king and his people. And David had had him put to death to satisfy his own lust! His name remained there as a testimony against the one whom he had served. This one name reminded David of all his past shame and discipline. But he condemned himself and honoured the grace that had restored him. He would never have dreamed of erasing Uriah's name from the record.
- Idleness starts it. David left his post as captain of Israel's armies, and an unoccupied soul gave the enemy his opening.
- Cover-up deepens it. Escaping the consequences of the first sin drove him to a second; Uriah carried his own death warrant.
- Others pay for it. Joab accepted the loss of more of David's men as the price of the plan — the sin of a leader never stays contained.
- Accomplices own him. Making Joab a partner in the crime turned the king into the slave of his own commander.
- God answers it. God dealt openly with what David did in secret. The sword never left his house — yet grace restored him, and Uriah's name stayed on the list of honour.