Will she walk slowly
Or will she come at all
I can’t believe that I was watching
Can’t believe I made the callI can’t get a handle on my thoughts
now Guess I’ve already made my mind
He’s a soldier in my battle
I’m the king with too much timeWill she wear that black dress
— The Normals, “Black Dress”
Will she wear that black dress
As holy as the night
As holy as I want to feel
I want to feel all right
The story of David and Bathsheba is well-known. Godly King David sees Bathsheba bathing from the roof. He sends for her, and they have an affair. To cover up the affair, he attempts to induce her husband Uriah to come home from war and sleep with her, but Uriah refuses. David instead arranges for Uriah to be killed in battle so that he can take Bathsheba as his wife without further obstacle.
What if she is angry
I know that we’re both scared
Do I look her in the eye
Or do I even dare to careI’m drowning in desire
I’ve been good for so long
I know I’ve got no right now
But no one can tell me that I’m wrongWill she wear that black dress
Will she wear that black dress
As holy as the night
As holy as I want to feel
I want to feel all right
Although the story is well-known, the consequences are less so. Before Bathsheba, David appeared to lead a charmed life. As the beloved of Israel (“David” means “beloved”), he won the love of Saul’s daughter Michal, the loyalty of Saul’s son Jonathan, and the praise in song of Israel’s women. He killed Goliath, earned a position as Saul’s armor-bearer and court musician, won multiple battles against the Philistines, amassed a loyal and successful group of fighting men, and survived multiple attempts on his life from a jealous, insane Saul. He was crowned king first of Judah and then of the entire nation of Israel and won many more battles. He became famous for his poetry and songs. At the culmination of his reign, he brought the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, amidst singing, music, sacrifice, and dance, making a joyous celebration of the Lord as Israel’s God and David as his regent. And the Lord made a covenant with David, promising that his descendants would always rule.
After Bathsheba, everything went wrong. His first son by Bathsheba died. His son Amnon raped his daughter Tamar. His son Absalom murdered Amnon. Absalom led a revolt against David. David’s trusted advisor Ahithophel (Bathsheba’s grandfather) betrayed David and joined Absalom. Absalom was defeated in battle and killed, despite David’s attempts to spare his life. David had hardly returned from the battle against Absalom when the northern tribes of Israel, led by a man named Sheba, started a second rebellion. David ended his life physically weak, seemingly impotent, with an fragile kingdom that his son Solomon had to act quickly to secure.
Maybe I’ll be good
I could be gone when she gets here
I’ve still got a chance to make this one all rightMy temptation’s on the stairway
My temptation’s at the door
My temptation is before me
She is standing before me in that black dress
It’s an intriguing thought - what was going through David’s head as he waited for Bathsheba? Could he have “been good”? From my own experience with temptation and sin, I’d guess that the answer is no - “maybe I’ll be good” is true in the abstract, but in practice it’s a lie to silence a conscience that’s still kicking against the impending action, rather than any real possibility.
In 1 Corinthians 10:13, Paul writes, “God is faithful: He will not let you be tried beyond what you are able to bear, but with the trial will also provide a way out so that you may be able to endure it.” (This sometimes gets distorted into the popular but unbiblical saying, “God will never give you more than you can handle.”) Paul writes this to encourage the Corinthian believers, after warning them of the Israelites’ failures and rebellions in the desert: even though the Corinthians will face temptations, like the Israelites did, God will enable them to stand firm. And I believe that this promise applies to us as well as to the Corinthians. In my more melancholy moments, though, I wonder when God provides the way out. What if, by the time David was waiting at the top of the stairway, alone with his thoughts and his libido, the way out was in the past? Maybe the way out was to spend more time writing psalms the day before so that his thoughts would have been more heavenly-focused that night on the roof. Many people have observed that the story of David and Bathsheba starts “in the spring of the year, at the time when kings normally conduct wars” (2 Sam 11:1); if David had been in the battlefield, alongside his men, the affair could not have happened. Maybe David’s taking of multiple wives (polygamy was tolerated but never condoned in the OT, and see Deut 17:17) made it a bit too easy to take one more. Maybe living in a palace that (literally) raised David over his fellow Israelites (see Deut 17:20) made it a bit too easy to view them as merely a means to meet his wants; certainly it made it a bit too easy to spy on them. And all of this - the palace that rewarded his position and success, the wives that were expected of a king of that time, perhaps even the well-earned respite from battle - was understandable, but the consequences were catastrophic.
I’m afraid that many of our ways out are the same. How many of our angry outbursts, petty selfishnesses, white lies, or opportunities for good passed over due to cowardice or laziness or self-absorption - to say nothing of the bigger abuses and addictions and betrayals and failures - can we honestly hope to avoid in the heat of the moment? And how many of them instead have as the way out to read the Bible, to pray, to fellowship with believers, to practice a lifestyle of serving others rather than using or ignoring them, so that we have the strength to stand firm when the trial does come?
As I said, this is a melancholy line of thought. I’d like to think that I’m capable of doing the right thing, that all I have to do is muster enough willpower or find the right technique or make the correct New Year’s resolution. What if, instead, there are trials which I haven’t even dreamed of bearing down in me in the future, and I’ve already missed the way out due to my failure to pursue God in the past? “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Rom 7:24)
The Normals’ song “Black Dress” ends with David’s crushing sin with Bathsheba. But, in the song that immediately follows on their album, they sing:
Oh, we of little faith
Oh, You of stubborn graceWe are the beggars, we are the beggars
We are the beggars at the foot of God’s doorWe’ve known the pain of loving in a dying world
And our lies have made us angry at the truth
But Cinderella’s slipper fits us perfectly
And somehow we’re made royalty with YouWe are the beggars, we are the beggars
— The Normals, “We Are The Beggars”
We are the beggars at the foot of God’s door
You have welcomed us in
