David: A Man after God’s Heart (4)
Scott Bayles, pastor
Blooming Grove Christian Church: 3/13/2016
The Bible is full of heroes. These biblical heroes don’t wear colorful capes or costumes, but they instill us with hope, optimism, and faith. They were men and women who overthrew kingdoms, stood for justice, protected God’s messengers, and faced down ferocious lions, unquenchable fires, and belligerent giants. And of all these heroes, none were more heroic than David. In the curtain call of God’s mighty warriors, David takes center stage.
David slayed giants and conquered kingdoms. The Son of God is called the Son of David. The greatest psalms—many of which we still sing today—flow from his pen. We call him king, warrior, minstrel, and giant-killer. The Bible dedicates more pen and parchment to David’s exploits than anyone other than Jesus himself. But still the most astounding words ever spoken about David come from the lips of God. God himself declares: “David (son of Jesse) is a man after my own heart” (Acts 13:22 TLB).
Wouldn’t you like for God to say the same about you? For the last few weeks, we’ve been examining the heart of David in order to see what it takes to be a man or woman after God’s heart.
When last we left David, he was on the run—hiding from King Saul in the caves of Engedi. But when given the opportunity to take Saul by surprise David refused to exact revenge, demonstrating a God-focused, faithful, forgiving heart.
In time, King Saul dies by his own hand.
David is crowned king and rises to new heights. In the first few years of his reign, David distinguishes himself as a warrior, musician, statesman, and king. Israel is expanding. The country is prospering. His cabinet is strong, and his boundaries stretch for sixty thousand square miles. No defeats on the battlefield. No blemishes on his administration. Loved by the people. Served by the soldiers. Followed by the crowds. After two decades on the throne, the wave of David’s success crests at age fifty.
David stands on the highest point of his life, in the highest position in the kingdom, at the highest place in the city—on the palace balcony overlooking Jerusalem. And yet, it’s from that very balcony that David experiences his greatest fall.
The story is told 2 Samuel 11.
It’s springtime in Israel. The nights are warm and the air is sweet. Springtime is when kings normally went out to war. It was the king’s duty to lead his army in defense of his kingdom. But this year David didn’t feel like fighting. He sent the armies of Israel to fight the Ammonites, “However, David stayed behind in Jerusalem” (2 Samuel 11:1 NLT). I don’t know why David stayed home. Perhaps he was weary of war. Maybe he felt as though he’d become too important to be on the front lines. All I know for certain is that David would have been much safer had he been where he belonged—with his troops. Our greatest battles don’t usually come when we’re working hard; they come when we’ve got time on our hands, when we’re bored. That’s when we make those fateful decisions that come back to haunt us.
That’s where David was—with time on his hands, desire on his mind and people at his disposal. He belonged in the battle; instead, he was in the bedroom. He pushed the bedspread back, stretched himself, yawned a couple of times, sighed, then took a stroll on his rooftop patio, overlooking all of Jerusalem. He enjoys the scenes and sights. Then, in the distance, he hears some splashing and perhaps the humming on the lips of a very beautiful woman living just beyond the palace, just within clear sight of his own backyard. The Bible says, “As he looked out over the city, he noticed a woman of unusual beauty taking a bath” (2 Samuel 11:2 NLT).
We don’t know if she intended to get David’s attention, but she certainly did. He looks and likes what he sees. So he inquires about her. He summons a servant and asks, “Who is that!?” The servant replies, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite” (2 Samuel 11:3 NLT).
The servant laces his information with a warning. He gives not only the woman’s name, but her marital status and the name of her husband. Why tell David she’s married if not to caution him? Why include her husband’s name unless David were familiar with it? Odds are, David knew Uriah. The servant hopes to deftly dissuade the king. But David misses the hint. And as the story continues, we have yet another glimpse into the heart of a man after God’s own heart.
First, what follows reveals a selfish heart.
• A SELFISH HEART
Despite his servant’s warning, the Bible says, “David sent messengers to get her; and when she came to the palace, he slept with her” (2 Samuel 11:4 NLT).
When David looked out from his balcony that night, he didn’t see Bathsheba. He saw Bathsheba bathing. He saw Bathsheba’s body and Bathsheba’s beauty. He saw Bathsheba, the conquest. Bathsheba, the object. But he failed to see Bathsheba, the human being, the wife of Uriah, the daughter of Israel, the child of God. No, David simply saw something he wanted. So he took it.
The story of David and Bathsheba is less a story of lust and more a story of selfishness. As the smoldering desire deep within him burst into flames, David thought of no one, but himself. He didn’t think about Uriah and how his actions could cripple a marriage. He didn’t think about Bathsheba and how his advances would lead her into sin. He didn’t think about his people and how his choices impact a nation. He certainly didn’t think about God and how his sin would shatter his relationship with the Lord he loved so much. David gratified his sexual lust—dishonoring himself, Bathsheba, and her husband—then simply sent her home as if nothing had happened.
Adultery is a sin all its own, but it’s also a symptom of a selfish heart. Every sexual sin—adultery, premarital sex, pornography, etc.—is born out of selfishness. It happens when we put our own wants and desires ahead of God and ahead of anyone else. Each one of us ought to search the soil of our own hearts for seeds of selfishness. Do you objectify human beings? Do you feel a sense of entitlement? Do you take what you want regardless of who it might hurt? The Bible says, “Where jealousy and selfishness are, there will be… every kind of evil” (James 3:16 NCV). Selfishness leads to sin.
That’s where David was. Decades of success transformed the humble-hearted shepherd boy into a prideful and arrogant king; that arrogance led David to make a very selfish and stupid decision. Sadly, David’s sin doesn’t stop there.
Furthermore, David had a scheming heart.
• A SCHEMING HEART
Later, Bathsheba sent David a message, saying, “I’m pregnant” (vs. 5). Scripture doesn’t say, but I’m sure all color drained from David’s face. His jaw dropped to the floor. Panic washed over him. You see, Bathsheba’s husband has been fighting in the war with Ammonites. So he couldn’t possibly be the father.
David knows that if his night of passion goes public, he’ll lose the respect of his soldiers, the admiration of his people, the faith of his followers. He’d bring disgrace on his dynasty. So David devises a plan. He sends for Uriah. When Uriah arrived at the palace, David requests a report. “How is the war effort going? How are the troops holding up?” Uriah answers all the King’s questions, and then David sends him home with a hardy slap on the back. The Bible says David even sent a gift to Uriah after he had left the palace—perhaps a bottle of wine.
David’s scheme was simple. Give Uriah the weekend off. Send him home to his lovely wife. Surely the two of them would sleep together. Then, when the baby is born, Uriah would believe himself to be the father. And no one would be the wiser. A clever and cunning plan, but there’s a hitch… Uriah didn’t go home.
Instead, he slept that night at the palace entrance with the king’s guard. The next morning David finds Uriah sleeping on the steps and asks, “What’s the matter? Why didn’t you go home last night after being away for so long?”
Uriah replied, “the armies of Israel and Judah are living in tents… camping in the open fields. How could I go home to wine and dine and sleep with my wife? I swear that I would never do such a thing” (vs. 11 NLT). Uriah was a man of honor and integrity. He refused to indulge himself or his own desires while his fellow soldiers were still at war, fighting for Israel… for David.
So David, in greater panic, escalates his plot to the next level. David wrote a message to Uriah’s commanding officer, issuing an order: “Station Uriah on the front lines where the battle is fiercest. Then pull back so that he will be killed” (vs. 15). David then sealed the letter, handed it to Uriah and sent him back to the battlefront. All the way there, Uriah carried his own death warrant.
This time everything goes according to plan. With Uriah out of the way, David takes Bathsheba as his wife and moves on with life. The cover-up appears complete. The casual observer detects no cause for concern. David has a new life and a happy wife. All seems well on the throne. But all is not well in David’s heart.
The sweet singer of Israel was now living a lie. This passionate, handsome king, this outstanding leader now lives in the shadows of his own palace. He no longer goes out to battle. He shrivels into something he was never designed to be, because he deliberately compromised his convictions, and then cruelly covered it over.
All this scheming takes its toll. David later describes this season of secret sin in graphic terms: “When I refused to admit my wrongs, I was miserable, moaning and complaining all day long so that even my bones felt brittle. Day and night, Your hand kept pressing on me. My strength dried up like water in the summer heat; You wore me down” (Psalm 32:3-4 TV).
Sleepless nights. Haunting guilt. This guy is a walking wreak, living in a swirl of misery. That’s what living with secret sin does to you. Thankfully, David’s story doesn’t end there and neither should yours. As the next chapter begins, we witness a welcome change in David—a sorrowful heart.
• A SORROWFUL HEART
No matter how sneaky David tried to be, God knew everything he had done. So God sends Nathan to David. Nathan is a prophet, a preacher, a White House chaplain of sorts. The man deserves a medal for going to the king. He knows what happened to Uriah. David killed an innocent soldier. What will he do with a meddling preacher?
Still, Nathan goes. Rather than declare the deed openly, Nathan relates a story about a poor man with only one sheep. David, the shepherd instantly connects. Nathan tells David how the poor shepherd loved his sheep—holding her in his own lap, feeding her from his own plate. She was like a member of the family.
Meanwhile, a rich neighbor entertains guests and prepares a banquet. But instead of killing an animal from his own flock or herd, he took the poor man’s lamb and killed it and prepared it for his guests.
As David listens, hair rises on his neck. He slams a fist against his throne like a gavel and passes judgment: “As surely as the Lord lives, any man who would do such a thing deserves to die! He must repay four lambs to the poor man for the one he stole and for having no pity” (2 Samuel 12:5-6 NLT).
Then with four little words Nathan brings David’s whole world crashing down: “You are that man!” (vs. 7). Shocked, David has nothing to say. God, however, is just getting started. Through his prophet, the Lord says:
I made you king over Israel. I freed you from the fist of Saul. I gave you your master’s daughter and other wives to have and to hold. I gave you both Israel and Judah. And if that hadn’t been enough, I’d have gladly thrown in much more. So why have you treated the word of God with brazen contempt, doing this great evil? You murdered Uriah the Hittite, then took his wife as your wife. Worse, you killed him with an Ammonite sword! (12:7-9 MSG)
David again makes no defense. He offers no excuses. Rather, he falls on his knees and confesses: “I have sinned against the Lord” (vs. 13). If we question David’s sincerity, we need only read the psalm he wrote in the wake of Nathan’s visit. For nineteen verses, David weeps over his sins and pleads with God for forgiveness and grace: “Create in me a clean heart, O God,” David begs. “Forgive me for shedding blood, O God,” he pleads. “Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” And God did with David’s sins what he does with yours and mine—he forgave them. Nathan, again, delivers the message: “the Lord has forgiven you” (vs. 13 NLT).
Conclusion:
Let me make two simple observations about this confrontation. First, we all need a Nathan in our lives. If not for Nathan’s willingness to confront David and call him out on his sin, David would’ve kept right on living in secret sin. We don’t need friends who will lie to us, telling us that we’re making good choices as we wander away from God. We need friends who tells us the truth and aren’t afraid to point out our faults and failures.
Secondly, if God can forgive David, He can forgive you. David’s heart was selfish, scheming, and stained with sin. But God loving washed away David’s sin, restored the joy of his salvation, and renewed his spirit. Once again David became a man after God’s heart. You can too. We all sin and fall short of God’s goodness. But it doesn’t matter what you’ve done or how far you’ve fallen. God never gave up on David. He won’t give up on you either.
Being a man or woman after God’s heart isn’t a matter of perfection; it’s a matter of direction. Being a man or woman after God’s heart simply comes down to having a heart in pursuit of His. So where is your heart headed?
Invitation:
Maybe you’ve been wrestling with symptoms of selfishness. Maybe you’ve made some sinful choices lately. Worse yet, maybe you’re covering them up, keeping secrets that are starting to eat away at you. I want to encourage you to do what David did—confess your sins to someone you trust, them confess them to God. He can create in you a pure heart—a heart in pursuit of His own. In the meantime, let’s stand and sing church.
