The Old Testament
reading for Holy Communion today, 2 Samuel 24, is a complex one [made more so by the Lectionary leaving several
verses out] but this ‘appendix’ to the life of David offers a fascinating
insight into the covenant relationship between him and Yahweh.
The account begins
with Yahweh’s anger being kindled against Israel. No reason is given, but his
anger is generally kindled against ‘the nations’ due to their extreme and
sustained injustice; and against his own people, Israel, for the
closely-related but more technical sin of unfaithfulness to the covenant that
existed between them. Yahweh is slow to anger, but nonetheless settled in his
determination to resist wickedness (see Exodus 34:6-7, in the context of Exodus 33:12-34:8). We see this played-out in the book of Judges—the ‘historical backdrop’ to David’s own time—with the
repeated cycle of oppression at the hands of neighbouring peoples, dramatic
deliverance, a turning away from the God who had rescued them, repeat.
Yahweh then incites
David to take a census of the people. His military commander, Joab, questions
this action, but on David’s insistence carries the census out. Yahweh’s action
here is reminiscent of both the occasion when, having decided to destroy Sodom
and Gomorrah in judgement for their wickedness, he brings Abraham into his plan
(Genesis 18) and the occasion where
he tested Abraham by commanding him to sacrifice his son, Isaac (Genesis 22). In the former, Abraham
intercedes for others; in the later, he obeys (and Isaac lives).
Despite being given
the opportunity by Joab, David does not push-back at Yahweh, does not negotiate.
The census takes place. Such a census can only have two purposes: to be the
preliminary to a military draft, amassing might; and to facilitate taxation,
amassing riches. Such are the temptations common to rulers in the ancient (and not-so-ancient)
world. At this point, David comes to the realisation that he has been tested by
Yahweh—and has failed the test.
Striken to the
heart, David repents—expresses a change of mind—and asks Yahweh to remove his
guilt. Yahweh responds by setting him another test, a test of his repentance.
David must choose three years of famine, three months of sustained attack and
defeat at the hands of surrounding nations, or three days of pestilence. In any
scenario, many people will die. This would be entirely disproportionate were it
primarily the consequence of David’s census; but it is not. It is primarily the
consequence of the unfaithfulness by which the people have angered Yahweh. In a
secondary sense, David not choosing—as Abraham had chosen—to intercede on their
behalf may have a bearing; but nonetheless we see that Yahweh will not stand by
indifferent to wickedness, and (yet) that he sets limits on his judgement (it
is not open-ended).
David rules out
three months of fleeing from before his foes. A more cynical reading would see
this as looking out for his own skin. A more generous reading would recognise
that, as king, ‘David’ is intimately entwined with both the people, ‘Israel,’
and their god, ‘Yahweh.’ David does not want judgement to be at the hands of
the nations, in order that neither the honour of the people nor the honour or
reputation of Yahweh be brought into disgrace. Beyond that, David has nothing
to say, returning the final choice to Yahweh.
Yahweh chooses three
days of pestilence, a short-sharp-shock in which seventy thousand people die at
the hand of an angel of death. But when the angel comes to destroy Jerusalem,
Yahweh declares, “It is enough; now stay your hand.” This is not merely a limit
to justice—a calling time on punishment—but an extension of mercy.
David can only bear
witness to Yahweh’s judgement and mercy. And the two come together on a
threshing floor. A threshing floor Jewish tradition identifies as both the site
on which Abraham laid Isaac on the altar, and where Yahweh provided a ram to
take his place; and the site on which David’s son Solomon would build the
temple as a resting-place for Yahweh on earth. And there, on that spot, David
declares that if there is more judgement to be done, let Yahweh’s hand be not
against the people but against David and his father’s house.
But Yahweh and David
are covenant partners. For Yahweh to accept David’s proposal—as opposed to negotiating
the terms of [a different] agreement—then, should David be unable to fulfil his
promise, Yahweh would have to uphold the obligation. But what would that even
look like?
Essentially, that
remains a moot point, until the exile to Babylon, or at least the encroaching
shadow of its likelihood/inevitability. In that context, some fourteen
generations later, the prophet Isaiah would take up the challenge of answering
that question in the theological imagination experiment known as the suffering
servant songs. Fourteen generations later again, Jesus—but, we jump ahead of
ourselves.
For some, a god who
is truly free, free to act in judgement, and free to act in mercy; a god who insists
on testing the character of people, who tests their motives, even tests their
repentance; a god who is inscrutable and dangerous and close and involved—for some,
such a god is monstrous. But for some of us, any lesser god is not worthy of the
stories by which we come to know ourselves, and to be known.