The story continues this week as we look at all 24 chapters of 2 Samuel. Whoever split the book of Samuel in two did so to mark the end of Saul and let the 2nd book tell, undiminished, the story of Israel’s best-loved king.

While the conflict of 1 Samuel juxtaposes David against Saul - a bright light against a flailing has-been – 2 Samuel, without the baddy to make the goody look good, lets the enduring king’s halo slip down somewhat. And this is where the narrative truly gives us hope. Because we are not to be dazzled with a perfect sovereign, but with a normal man, who’s head is just as easily turned.

The first few chapters of the book illustrate the deep humanity of the king we have been following. David weeps, laments and avenges Saul, his enemy, laments for Abner, Saul’s army commander, and avenges the death of Ish-Boseth, Saul’s son. In addition to this, he shows great kindness to Saul’s crippled grandson, Mephibosheth.

But then, amidst the grandeur of David’s military accomplishments, emerges his frail response to the lure of power. David sleeps with another man’s wife and then has him killed so he can marry this new mistress. The halo has fallen and the idol of Israel’s dreams has shown himself a fake.

According to Nathan the prophet, all the problems David will face with his son, Absalom, are due to this disastrous mistake. True, or not, this episode leaves an unseemly mark on the house of the king. The great line of Israel’s kings would stem from David’s son, borne of Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah. Indeed, from then on, David’s children are the source of his troubles; the incestuous rape of Tamar by Amnon, the murder of Amnon by Absalom and the violent revolt of Absalom all direct the memory of David’s reign. For a great king, this is a sorry story.

Two things should be said before we consider David further. The first is that we have not read such gripping narrative since the family narratives of Genesis. The power of narrative is that it betrays the assumptions, hopes and fears of a people. As a window into the Israelite’s cultural life, now several hundred years on from the Exodus, the decidedly military nature of the stories should prompt us to retain a distance from them (‘mighty men’ of warring renown are not celebrities in the contemporary world, contra 23:8-39). We have to understand when reading that they lived in a world where kings went to war in the spring, like clockwork (11:1).

The second thing to note as an undercurrent to the storyline is the theme of Temple worship and where and when that should commence. Until this point, worship of Yahweh and observance of the Levitical code etc. was connected with the Tabernacle, but as the Tabernacle could only ever be in one place, various localised worship centres emerged. The ever-confounding story of the Ark in chapter 6 re-opens the issue of a central place of worship and the word of the Lord to Nathan is that David is not the one to build such a place. The importance and location of proper worship was a significant underground political issue for many Israelites (particularly post-exile, when most of these writings were confirmed) and comment on it, from various different perspectives, peppers the entire Old Testament narrative, much of it probably written back in from a later perspective. In this vein, 2 Samuel ends, not with the death of David, but with a post-script: David offering a sacrifice on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite, the future site of the great Temple.

The highs and lows of David, king of the Israelites, are well-penned in these narratives of Samuel. Simply put, the first of Israel’s great kingly line was both good and bad, and so was what followed. But one thing is clear. David was for real. The passionate reality of faith in Yahweh spills out of his psalms. The deep petitions of his repentance are instant after confrontation; David has no image to defend, no honour to uphold. There seems to be no-one immune from the lure of power. Neither is there anyone truly able to deal with overwhelming responsibility. The challenge for us, I believe, is to emulate David’s passion and humility; passion for getting it right and humility for accepting when we haven’t.

All this is not to read 2 Samuel through rose-tinted spectacles. And the end of the day, Israel’s scriptures depict an almost constant shambles. Yahweh hardly features here for a start, and personal disasters cajole this people from one bad spell to another. Where is the God of Abraham, Isaac & Jacob? Still there, quietly faithful?

Questions for reflection:

1. What is the worst thing, for you personally, about getting something wrong? Why?

2. Who is there, in your life, to help you balance your responsibilities? Who could help, maybe as a sounding-board?