Little Leopards
2 Samuel 11: 2 “And it came to pass in an eveningtide, that David arose from off his bed, and walked upon the roof of the king's house: and from the roof he saw a woman washing herself; and the woman was very beautiful to look upon. 3 And David sent and enquired after the woman. And one said, Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite? 4 And David sent messengers, and took her; and she came in unto him, and he lay with her; for she was purified from her uncleanness: and she returned unto her house. 5 And the woman conceived, and sent and told David, and said, I am with child. 6 And David sent to Joab, saying, Send me Uriah the Hittite. And Joab sent Uriah to David. 7 And when Uriah was come unto him, David demanded of him how Joab did, and how the people did, and how the war prospered. 8 And David said to Uriah, Go down to thy house, and wash thy feet. And Uriah departed out of the king's house, and there followed him a mess of meat from the king. 9 But Uriah slept at the door of the king's house with all the servants of his lord, and went not down to his house. 10 And when they had told David, saying, Uriah went not down unto his house, David said unto Uriah, Camest thou not from thy journey? why then didst thou not go down unto thine house? 11 And Uriah said unto David, The ark, and Israel, and Judah, abide in tents; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord, are encamped in the open fields; shall I then go into mine 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. 12 And David said to Uriah, Tarry here to day also, and to morrow I will let thee depart. So Uriah abode in Jerusalem that day, and the morrow. 13 And when David had called him, he did eat and drink before him; and he made him drunk: and at even he went out to lie on his bed with the servants of his lord, but went not down to his house. 14 And it came to pass in the morning, that David wrote a letter to Joab, and sent it by the hand of Uriah. 15 And he wrote in the letter, saying, Set ye Uriah in the forefront of the hottest battle, and retire ye from him, that he may be smitten, and die. 16 And it came to pass, when Joab observed the city, that he assigned Uriah unto a place where he knew that valiant men were. 17 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 Uriah the Hittite died also.”
David was a man after God’s own heart. He was a worshipper of God, a prophet, the Great Psalmist of Israel. God promised David that the Messiah would come from his offspring. He was a good man, and a great king. But David had a problem. David had a sin in his heart that he nurtured, that festered in him until it nearly destroyed his life. You see, before David met Bathsheba, he already had 7 wives and at least ten concubines. This was against the commandment of The Lord, and David knew it.
Speaking of Kings of Israel, God was clear:
Deut. 17:16, “But he shall not multiply horses to himself, nor cause the people to return to Egypt, to the end that he should multiply horses: forasmuch as the LORD hath said unto you, Ye shall henceforth return no more that way. 17 Neither shall he multiply wives to himself, that his heart turn not away: neither shall he greatly multiply to himself silver and gold. 18 And it shall be, when he sitteth upon the throne of his kingdom, that he shall write him a copy of this law in a book out of that which is before the priests the Levites: 19 And it shall be with him, and he shall read therein all the days of his life: that he may learn to fear the LORD his God, to keep all the words of this law and these statutes, to do them.”
Samuel the great prophet had anointed David. He had no doubt instructed David in the law. But, more importantly, David himself was required to write by hand a copy of the law, and to keep the law with him. And David kept most of the law. Under his rule, Israel prospered. There was justice. The ark was returned to Israel. It was a glorious time of worship, a golden time in the history of Israel.
But one sin just about destroyed David. One sin caused him heartbreak that he would endure for the rest of his life. We see the root of that sin in his choice of taking many wives. There was a root of lust in the heart of David. He knew it was against God’s law for a king to take multiple wives, but he did it anyway. Like most sin, it started small. But it grew. That is what sin does. It is like leaven. A little leaven in a lump of dough will soon leaven the whole lump. It will overtake your entire life. It will consume you. It will infect your soul. It will touch every part of your life.
Sin nearly always starts small. It is like leprosy that begins with just a little spot, but soon destroys the entire body, the leper cut off from his family, his friends, and, more importantly, his God. Because of a small sin committed in the Garden of Eden, this entire world is now under a curse. Every human being is born a sinner. Because of one small sin, there is death, famine, disease, pestilence, heartbreak, wars, and destruction. A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.
David was a good king, a good man, but for whatever reason, he did not deal with the leaven of lust he had in his heart. He married woman after woman, took concubine after concubine. He did not tell the little sin in his heart no. And, finally, it grew. It overtook him. When he saw Bathsheba bathing that day, he could no longer control his lust. He could no longer control the sin he had allowed to fester in his heart. He knew the law. He loved his God. He wanted to do the right thing. But the sin he had allowed to grow inside his heart was too powerful for him now.
He sinned. He committed adultery with the wife of one of his most loyal, valiant men, a man who was faithful to him, a man who loved him. Then, when Bathsheba came up pregnant, unable to deceive Uriah, David had him killed!
Numbers 32:23, “…and be sure, your sins will find you out.”
Can I tell you now that God sees sin? Can I tell you that God hates sin? He is a holy God. He does not overlook sin. He will always deal with sin. He will never let it go unchecked, undealt with. God will deal with your heart. He will call you to repentance. He will wash you in His precious blood. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
But if we protect our sin, if we refuse to deal with our sin, God will send a messenger. God will make your sin known. God will send judgment.
“…and be sure, your sins will find you out.”
2 Samuel 12:1, “And the Lord sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto him, and said unto him, There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. 2 The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: 3 But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. 4 And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him. 5 And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die: 6 And he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity. 7 And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man.”
Nathan told David the judgment of God. The child Bathsheba had would die, the sword would never depart from David’s house. Evil would rise up against David out of his own house.
It was a dangerous thing for a man of God to approach a king with the word of God. David could have killed the messenger. Jeremiah was cast into prison. Isaiah was sawed in half with a wooden saw. But, to David’s credit, he heard the Prophet. He accepted the word of God.
“And David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against the Lord. And Nathan said unto David, The Lord also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die.”
My friend, our God is a merciful God. If we come to Him with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, he will in no wise cast us out. He will forgive us. He will wash us. He will deliver us. But if we protect our sins, if we hold onto our sins, if we allow them to fester in us, they will destroy us.
Rom. 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death…”
I will never forget the story of Preambi.
Preambi was a mighty African hunter. He was well-known among the members of his tribe. He had taken large game with his spear. He had provided much meat for his tribe to eat, and many skins to clothe his family and to sell at market. But one thing had evaded Preambi. There was one animal in the wild that Preambi had never defeated. Occasionally, he would hear its terrible shrieks in the distance, or see its tracks, or come across one of its discarded kills. Ignoring how dangerous it was, Preambi had followed its huge tracks several times, but had never gotten near enough to hunt the beast. He had seen it only from great distances. He had dreams of hunting it. He thought how wonderful it would be to return to the village with its skin. How the entire tribe would admire such a hunt! His family would be so proud. How much the skin would sell for at the Market!
But day after day, hunt after hunt, the opportunity never came. The beast was far too crafty, far too swift of foot. Preambi never got the chance.
Then, one day, while hunting, he had found little game. It was late in the day, the sun was beginning to set upon the distant mountain. He had travelled much farther than he normally would have, desperate to find game. He knew he must soon head back to the village, but hated to do so with the small amount of game he had killed. But the coming night meant grave danger to one found alone in the wild. It was then that the predators came out to hunt. With some reluctance, wisely, Preambi turned and headed for home. He walked under a large tree, his mind on the villagers, and his family, who would be disappointed at his meager hunt. When, suddenly, he felt it. He knew it.
Eyes were watching him.
Snapped immediately back into reality, he made his spear ready. He heard the breaking of a twig behind him. Whatever it was, it was no more than ten feet away from him, and his back was turned to it. He had a moment to contemplate how foolish he had been, hunting alone so far from the village. How foolish he had been to stay in the wild until so late. From behind him, he heard a low growl, a growl that sent fear through his entire body, and caused his knees to tremble. This was it. There was a terrible beast behind him, a beast with teeth and claws, and all he had was a spear and a knife.
Controlling his fear, slowly, ever so slowly, Preambi turned to face the thing behind him. There, mere feet away, crouched, ready to leap at him, was the largest leopard Preambi had ever seen. There, in front of him, was the very beast he had dreamed of hunting. It was the great leopard he had stalked over and over again without success. But this was not a dream. This was real, and Preambi realized, staring at this great leopard, looking into the cruelest eyes he had ever seen, he was about to die. He would never return to his village. Being so far from home, his family would never learn what happened to him.
His family. Preambi thought of his wife, he thought of his children, his little girl, his small boy who wanted to grow up to be a mighty hunter just like his father. The thoughts of his family filled Preambi with a new resolve. He decided he would not die. He decided to conquer this leopard. It would be the leopard, not Preambi, that would die.
The leopard growled again, low and vicious, it’s wicked, predatory eyes bearing into Preambi. Preambi raised his spear, and the great cat shrieked a terrible shriek as it leapt for Preambi, its powerful jaws and teeth seeking Preambi’s throat, it’s long, sharp claws striking out, seeking flesh to tear into. Preambi screamed, falling backward onto the ground just in time, as the jaws of the leopard snapped where his throat had been. But as Preambi fell, so did his spear, slipping from his sweat-moistened hand. The great leopard landed mere feet from where Preambi had fallen. It righted itself, shrieking in rage, turning again toward Preambi. Preambi had no time to reach his fallen spear. He grabbed his knife from its sheath. It was all he had. It was not enough, and he knew it. He would never see his family again. But, as the leopard leaped for him one more time, victory and death in its terrible eyes, its shriek curdling Preambi’s blood, Preambi held the knife steady in front of him. He felt the great weight of the leopard hit him. He felt its claws tearing into his flesh, and the pressure of its jaws on his throat. But, more importantly, he felt the blade of his knife sink deeply into the chest of the leopard. He felt its warm blood cover his hands. It suddenly stopped clawing at him. Its powerful jaws released their grip on his throat. The leopard shuddered, let out one final gasp and lay still on top of Preambi.
Pushing the leopard off of him, Preambi could hardly believe what had just happened. He had taken the leopard. He, Preambi, had killed a leopard, not with a spear, but with only a knife. The village would speak of this for years! How proud his family would be! In his reverie, he hardly noticed the pain where the claws of the leopard had slashed him, and its teeth had punctured him. He stood, staring down at the dead leopard. The sun was sinking into the horizon, and darkness was coming. Quickly, taking the knife that had saved his life, he knelt down and began skinning the leopard. This skin would sell for such a great price! It would feed his family for months! But, no, Preambi would keep the skin as a trophy, a reminder of this day, the day when Preambi killed a leopard with a knife.
His thoughts on the leopard, Preambi was not aware of his surroundings. He became suddenly aware that he was being watched. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He heard a sound behind him. He glanced over at his spear, which was still lying on the ground. He clutched the knife tightly in his hand. How stupid am I? He thought. Where there is one leopard, there may be another. He had lived only by chance. Now he would surely die. He turned, ready to fight, ready to look into the wicked eyes of another predator.
But what he saw made him laugh. It was a predator, to be sure, it had teeth and claws. But its little eyes were soft and trusting. Preambi looked down at a tiny leopard cub. He knew what he should do. But, there, in the growing darkness, covered in his own blood, and the blood of the leopard, he could not bring himself to do it. It was a harmless cub, after all, just a little leopard.
Carefully, he placed the little leopard into his hunter’s sack.
The village was in an uproar when Preambi returned, covered in blood, the skin of the great leopard draped across his shoulders. His wife screamed when she saw him. His little boy and girl shouted for joy. The entire village surrounded him, staring with wide eyes at the leopard skin.
The Chief of the village came out to see him.
“Preambi! What have you done? You have killed the great leopard!”
The villagers shouted with joy!
“Preambi has killed the great leopard! Preambi has killed the great leopard!”
Preambi told his story, his heart filled with joy at the admiration of his friends and family.
“You have made the wild a safer place,” the old chief told him.
Then, as they talked, at that moment, as the village children laughed and played, pretending to be Preambi killing the great leopard with a knife, the little leopard found its way out of Preambi’s hunter’s sack. Looking around, blinking its gentle eyes, it found Preambi, and walked to him.
The chief of the village stood up straight, staring down, coolly, at the little leopard. He reached for his belt knife, his face grim and purposeful. Quickly, Preambi stopped him.
“No, Chief. That is my leopard.”
“You know it must be done, Preambi,” the chief said.
“But it is only a little leopard,” said Preambi. “Look at it. It cannot hurt anyone. It does not know it is a leopard.”
The chief moved again toward the leopard. “Little leopards grow up to be big leopards, and big leopards kill!”
Preambi stood between the chief and the little leopard.
“That is my leopard!” He said. “I will not let you kill it. I will raise it. I will tame it. It will not be a predator, I will feed it only cooked meat. It will be like a pet.”
The chief looked sadly at Preambi. “Preambi, listen to me. You are a great hunter. You are a good man, a good husband and a good father. But you must not keep this leopard, Preambi. I am warning you. Little leopards grow up to become big leopards, and big leopards kill!”
But Preambi knew better. He would make the leopard his pet. He brought the leopard home. His children loved the little cub. It became part of the family. The other children in the village came over to see the leopard. Preambi was quite the talk of the town. The great leopard hunter. One who actually tamed a leopard. And the leopard grew. He became strong on cooked meat. Preambi’s son and daughter could ride on its back. It was protective of them, following them wherever they went.
One day, Preambi heard someone shouting,
“Leopard! There is a leopard in the camp!” Grabbing his spear, he ran outside, following the shouts. There was the chief, spear in hand, ready to thrust it into Preambi’s leopard. Moving quickly, Preambi grabbed the chief, stopping him.
“No, chief! That is not a wild leopard. That is my leopard!”
The chief stared at the leopard.
“Preambi, look at the leopard. Look how it has grown. It is no longer a little leopard. It is becoming a big leopard, just like its father was, and big leopards kill!”
Preambi looked at his leopard.
“No, Chief. He is my leopard. He is not vicious. He is gentle. I will not let you kill him.”
The chief turned sadly away from Preambi. Without saying another word, he walked away.
Time passed, the leopard grew. One day, the leopard followed his daughter as she played outside their house, the leopard watching her.
Preambi’s daughter fell that day, skinning her knee, and cutting her skin on some brambles. She cried out in pain. The leopard walked curiously toward her, nuzzling her with his great head, watching her with his gentle eyes. Gingerly, he licked her knee. He tasted her blood!
Preambi heard the screaming from where he was sitting inside his house! He heard the terrible shrieking of a fearsome beast. He grabbed his spear, and ran toward the screams. Who was screaming? His blood went cold as he realized it was his daughter who was screaming.
Villagers began to shout,
“There is a leopard in the camp! There is a leopard in the camp!”
Finally Preambi reached the leopard. It stood, looking down at the tiny body of a little girl, his little girl. He shouted at it, and it turned on him. Its eyes were not gentle. They were wicked, predatory, hungry, identical to the eyes of the leopard Preambi had killed before. The leopard was massive. How had it become so big? Preambi thought. It was just a little leopard. He registered that his daughter was hurt, but still moving. He had to get to her. He had to rescue her. He moved toward the massive leopard. The leopard moved toward him.
The chief heard the cries as well. He also grabbed his spear, running as quickly as his old legs would carry him. When he arrived, he saw the great leopard. He saw Preambi lying at the feet of the leopard, his blood spilling onto the ground around him. He saw Preambi’s daughter lying still, unconscious. Without time to think, he ran toward the leopard, striking with the spear before it had time to see him. He struck true. He struck hard, driving the spear deep into the heart of the leopard. It fell with one terrible shriek, falling dead on the lifeless body of Preambi.
The chief looked down at Preambi. Tears filled his eyes.
“Preambi, I warned you, Preambi. Little leopards grow up to be big leopards, and big leopards kill!”
Rom 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death…”
