Steve Vincent 2nd Samuel: 10-12 Read by:__________________ URIAH the Hittite There’s a full peace that can’t be found anywhere else except in a tumble of blankets where I lay next to her with my weight on my elbows as I play with her hair. She lies on her back with her hair unfurled and spilling out over the floor; she looks pained, as if she has already experienced the incredible loss that she keeps dreading every time I am summoned. “It’ll be okay,” I say to her. “I’ve fought in worse before. No one can stand before us, with God at our back we can’t be stopped.” “Why aren’t you scared?” she asks. “Every time you ride out to war…I don’t know what to do. I’ve seen the wives of the fallen husbands and how they grieve. I can’t lose you like that. I need you here to help me grow old.” “You’ll have me,” I say to my wife, almost laughing. I kiss her real quick to seal the promise and smile a smile she can’t see because our noses touch and hide everything but those beautiful brown eyes of hers. She’s concerned but it is only because she doesn’t understand. When I’m out there, my arms are guided by something not of me. My sword is steadied by mightier hands than mine, and there is no way she could understand how safe it feels when God guides my path and instructs me how to fight. “I fight with David’s mighty men. We’ve never been beaten in war. We can’t be beaten as long as God smiles on us.” “What if He stops, Uriah? He’s let Israel be defeated before.” Tears gloss over her eyes, tears she won’t shed in front of me. Women are something I’ll never understand no matter how badly I want to. I know I’m safe; I wish she knew it as well. “Then Abishai will take care of me,” I joke with her. “I watched him kill three hundred men with a spear once. And if Abishai doesn’t take care of me then Benaiah will. I watched him beat an Egyptian to death with his own spear. But God won’t turn His back on me. He loves me and I love Him, and He doesn’t forsake His children. He forsakes us when we forsake Him.” “And going to war because a few Jews had their beards shaved and their clothes ruffled is holy and just in the sight of God? How can you justify fighting for this?” Bathsheba raised her hand to my face and ran her thumb along my cheek as if she’d never seen it before. I could tell that she thought she would never see me again. “Bathsheba,” I say to stall. The words of warriors make sense to me, and warriors were the ones who told me of the upcoming fight. She wouldn’t understand their words, because honor carries many meanings that don’t need to be said. “We’re fighting because king Hanun disgraced our countrymen. David can’t be a good king if he let’s other countries molest his people when we are doing good for them. As long as our enemies devise plans to attack just one of our people a good king has to stop them, even if it means going to war. We protect our own, that’s what it means to be a people. If king Hanun wanted to capture you, David would raise ten thousand men to protect you.” “What if I don’t want thousands to risk their lives for me?” “Then the thousands will assemble themselves to fight for you anyway. And if you tell them all to go home then I will fight them all off myself, along with the thousands that stay to fight with me.” I run my own hand over her forehead and feel her shiver. She chills me as she aims her doubts into my soul with piercing brown eyes. Her hand retracts from my cheek and folds over her chest. She draws the blanket up to her chin as if to ward off the icy terror inside her. She looks to the side, breaking the closeness of the moment. I draw back from her slightly. “What if the enemy catches you in a moment of weakness?” “They can’t.” I’m full of the confidence of an invincible youth. I’ve been with her on the eve of battle dozens of times and she does this always. She fixes me with a frustrated look, betraying her wavering fear despite her best attempts to mask it with determined aggravation. This time she’s being more stubborn in her worry. It’s cute but unnecessary, and this time it’s kind of unnerving. “I’ll tell you a secret.” I lean in to whisper into her ear. I wrap her in my arms real quick and roll over, bringing her on top of me in a fit of giggles, sending her hair every direction until it droops and creates a curtain around our faces that no one else can see through. She’s finally listening to me. Her eyes betray her pride in me. I smile at her with all the boyish charm I can muster. “You’re the only person on Earth that makes me weak. A thousand sons of Ammon can’t even touch a hair on my head but you hold my heart in your hands. Really, the only person that even makes me nervous is you. But Bathsheba, I promise, as long as I have you, I can’t be hurt.” She kisses me then and we make the most of the time we have before I have to march off to war and am put under the canvas of our celibate honor code, but I couldn’t shake the way she looked at me as if she would never see me again. “As long as I have you,” I whisper into her ear as we lay there burning our final moments together before I have to go. JOAB the son of Zeruiah Here we stand before the gates of Rabbah with the sons of Ammon at our front and thirty-three thousand mercenaries at our backs. The sons of Israel are restless; some are even fearful. We are outnumbered greatly, and the mercenaries are the Arameans, the most skilled charioteers of all the nations north of Egypt. It is the first battle that our king has stayed home from and this causes the men to doubt. David is a holy man, a good king, and an excellent commander, and having him in the camp leads the men to believe that they are invincible. I’m not nearly as devout as David, but no one can fight along his side for years and not believe in the divine God and know that He fights for us. I’ve seen things that can’t be explained. I’ve seen victory pulled from impossible odds. I’ve seen battles fought by hail and hornets. I myself have charged into battle alone once, and sent a legion of men fleeing for their lives. The men shouldn’t put their faith in David. The Lord fights for us, and these men have forgotten. “Uriah!” I call out to my friend. “Draw out all of the skilled men and set them to face the Arameans at our backs. Get all the unskilled to face Rabbah. We can scare them back into their city without skill but by numbers alone. We can’t have the unskilled going against the Arameans. The unskilled doubt when they need their faith the most, and the Lord doesn’t protect against stupidity.” “Consider it done,” the youth responds. He dreams dreams of living for his God that rival David’s. It makes my heart glad to see him there steadfast and courageous before impossible odds, the only true testing grounds of manhood. The only time his mind drifts is when he thinks of his wife back home. His biggest dream is to lead the armies of Israel, and he watches me very carefully to see how it should be done. He is so eager to put his life on the line and prove his faith and devotion. He is a real man. “Uriah, do the men doubt?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Uriah’s eyes dart to the left quickly, then swoop along the ground and come back to mine. He nods. “Some do. They say the Lord has delivered us into the hands of the Arameans.” I clap him on the back. “Never go into battle when your men doubt. A good leader shows them victory at all times. Their courage originates in your heart. If you are face to face with death, show your men that you are willing to spit.” I look around. The men are restless. Whispers of being crushed from both sides send panic through the army. Many stay simply because there is no safe direction to run. Half the army faces the city of Rabbah, and half faces the army of thirty thousand behind us. Troops cast sidelong glances at me. It is time to fight, the war horns from Rabbah have sounded and the Arameans are blowing their horns in response. They march on us and will be upon us in minutes. “The Ammonites have brought thirty thousand friends into this battle with them and outnumber us where they stand before us and behind us!” I yell in a bellowing voice that only years in the military can hone. The ranks turn from facing their enemies to facing me. I stand on the dividing line between the split of our troops. “They easily outnumber us? Yes,” I yell once I’ve got their attention. “They outnumber us and they’ve caught us by surprise. They’ve even flanked us. I stand here before you and thank God for this day.” The faces of the men lose their fear as they stare at me in disbelief. The doubters can’t believe I could wish this impending doom upon our heads, but the faithful, men like Uriah, nod their heads in eager anticipation because they understand a warrior’s heart. “That’s right, I thank God for this day, for this fight!” “Look about you! Men of faith, I would rather fight with a dozen of you than with ten thousand Aramean charioteers. We’ve been given a chance to prove ourselves like our fathers have never seen. Today we prove that one man sends a thousand into flight! Today, every one of you gets the chance to prove yourself a hero, the chance that generations to come will only be able to dream about. The deeds of this day will never be forgotten. Your honor lies in their ranks, take it! The Lord has given it into your hands!” A shout rises from David’s mighty men before I’m even finished and spreads throughout the whole army, a mighty roar that drowns out the sounds of the approaching chariots and the footsteps of men. A thousand voices go up at once, a sound of boiling testosterone, the deep sound of honor and manhood. I draw my sword and shove it into the sky in defiance of our enemies. “Be strong! Prove yourselves men, courageous for your cities, for your families, and for your God! You were called to be men today! So today we fight!” Undulating roars erupt, a resonate bass bellowing out at our foes. I advance to the front of the lines facing the Arameans. A man that won’t lead can’t be followed. The deafening yells of the sons of Israel echo in my ears as I whisper to myself “May the Lord do what is well in his sight.” DAVID the son of Jesse The thrill of youth, excitement, and battle lies in the siege of Rabbah. I’ve been trying to feel like that again and I can’t, and it drives a cold knife into my heart. Nothing satisfies this lack of closeness. The night of Jerusalem is peaceful. I observe the city from the palace roof, pacing and listening to the silence pressing in and attacking my ears. Adventure lies over the horizon and I stare towards a city I can’t see. My eyes fall upon a light across the street, a light which comes from inside a house. Inside the house a woman stands undressing herself to bathe. She is so beautiful. Her body is perfect in her youth and I can’t stop looking at her. With agonizing care she cleanses herself of everything but the obvious worry that she’s wrapped around her. I watch her and the regret in my heart drains, replaced by curiosity and an aroused sense of adventure. I leave the roof of the palace and rush past one of my many servants. “Who is the woman that lives in the house across the street?” I say pointing. The servant thinks for a moment and responds, “Isn’t that Bathsheba? The daughter of Eliam? She’s with Uriah the Hittite.” “Invite her here.” * * * The woman has been talking to me of her fear and I’ve done my best to convince her she worries for no reason. With great tact and care I have allayed her fears and she even manages to smile for once. She’s a fabulous woman and I can’t take my mind off of her. What she lacks is strength and intimacy. I can’t blame her; she’s felt alone ever since I’ve laid siege to Rabbah and that was months ago. She just wants someone she can be close with. We have had a great night with wine and conversation. I’ve shown her the greatness of kings. She’s impressed easily, but more than anything she craves the attention. I feel so alive around her, and I don’t know why. “Bathsheba, I have had a great night with you. You should come over again sometime and we can talk some more. My closest friends are at the siege also, and I do get lonely, believe it or not.” She smiles shyly and bites her lower lip nervously. “Thank you. I’d like that.” She stands to leave and I stand also to show her out of my room. We approach the door and I put out one hand to restrain her momentarily. “Thank you for coming.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. She breathes in sharply and stands perfectly still. I hover next to her cheek and watch her face as she closes the world out with her eyelids. She doesn’t say anything, she just stands. I kiss her cheek again and she gasps for air. I fold my arms around her waist and leave a trail of gentle kisses down her neck. She touches my sides gently with her hands using only her fingertips. I retreat from her neck and rest my forehead against hers. She still doesn’t say anything, she just stands there absorbing it all. She hasn’t responded positively or negatively, she just stands there waging some battle in her mind as to whether this is good or not. I kiss her full on the mouth and she doesn’t respond. I kiss her again and I feel the breath in her raise up. I kiss her once more and her arms wrap around me as she returns the kiss in full. BATHSHEBA the daughter of Eliam The king looks surprised to see me storm into his personal quarters unescorted and without invitation. He panics when he sees my tears. “I’m pregnant!” URIAH the Hittite “Bathsheba!” I call out as I enter my home. “I’m home! David called me back from the siege to talk about how the war is going. Bathsheba I’m home!” I dump my sword and other belongings on the ground and search for my wife. I find her in a corner by herself. She’s been crying. My heart breaks to see her, and I run up to her and wrap her up in my arms and spin her around, laying kisses on her cheek and mouth while laughing with the joy of it all. “I’m home!” She smiles, tears still betraying something deeper. She doesn’t look at me, she just keeps her eyes shut. I kiss her on the mouth, and she doesn’t respond for the first few moments. I pull back. “Bathsheba, it’s really me. I’m home!” She nods her head and her smile cringes into pain. I let go and back up from her. “Uriah…” she repeats through her sobs. “What’s wrong.” My hand searches for the door of my house. “What is it, Bathsheba?” She sits down in the middle of the floor crying. “Bathsheba, you can tell me anything. Remember? You always do.” “I can’t!” I watch her cry. She doesn’t say anything else, she just cries. Something is not right. This doesn’t feel like home. It’s lacking the warmth and love that I left it with. “What’s wrong!” I yell at her. She’s lost in her own world. I turn and slam my fist into the wall, breaking a hole into it. “What’s wrong!” “I can’t!” she screams back. I grab my sword and gear and leave her there. Why…what in hell is wrong with her? Something terrible. * * * I storm into David’s court, sword clenched in my fist. It felt good and familiar. “Send me back!” David stops all his royal duties and braces himself when he sees the sword clenched in my hand. “Uriah,” he says, putting his hand up to stop me, “what’s wrong? Go home and calm down.” “Send me back!” I yell. “Something’s not right here and I don’t want to be here!” David regards me coolly. “Go home to your wife, Uriah. You’ve been gone a long time. It’s understandable that she’d be upset.” “Who said anything about my wife?” I yell. David shakes his head paternally. “What’s wrong, Uriah?” “She’s…something is wrong with her. I’ve thought of her every moment for weeks now and dreamt about her when I wasn’t awake and she wasn’t even happy to see me! Send me back to the fight.” I drop the sword and sit in the middle of the court. People are staring but I don’t care. David walks up to me and crouches down so he can look into my eyes. “Uriah, she’s worried about you all this time. Go back there, wash up, make some dinner, and by God take her in your arms. She’s missed you. She just wasn’t ready for you to come back unannounced.” “You want me to go home to my wife when all of my brothers are out there at Rabbah risking their lives? By your life I will do no such thing. I belong back there. Let me finish. The Lord must be cursing me because I am back home before my fight is finished. Send me back!” * * * David didn’t send me back immediately, but after two days he handed me a letter, sealed and addressed to Joab. When David gave it to me, something was different about him. Before he had been so fatherly toward me, but now he was cold. A warrior knows how to size up opponents and that part of me told me that David wasn’t telling me everything. Something grim was on his mind. “Take this to Joab. Do not open it or let anyone else read it. Swear to me that you won’t let anyone, including yourself, read this.” “I swear.” “Swear by God.” I stare into his eyes. His expression is fierce. He regards me with such contempt and I can’t tell why. He’s angry with me for some reason, and I don’t bother to even give it any weight. I just want to get out of Jerusalem. I answer him with disgust, “David, there was a time when you trusted me and I didn’t have to swear to anything. Since you can’t trust me, I’ll swear. But I didn’t do anything to break the trust between us, what did I do to make you so angry?” David let go of the letter. “Nothing. Give this to Joab. You are very important to this nation, Uriah. Now go.” JOAB the son of Zeruiah Uriah stood in front of me, merely a shadow of the bright shining youth I had sent home. His eyes were sunken in, he hadn’t slept the whole journey back. His wife simply didn’t care when he came home and that was worse for him than any torture I could have devised for him. He wouldn’t eat until I gave him a direct order to. He shoved a letter from David into my hands saying it was urgent. I broke the seal and read it. The letter from David reads “Place Uriah in the front line of the fiercest battle and withdraw from him, so that he may be struck down and die.” My heart stops. My eyes tear up. What? I crumple the letter and tear it once down the center. What could he possibly be thinking? Uriah is like a son to me, he’s like a son to David! “Uriah…” I say, fighting the urge to let him read the letter, “We’re going to charge the city tomorrow. I need a man everyone can trust to lead the men up the southern walls and I want it to be you. Everyone looks up to you; I figure it’s your chance to be the leader that you’ve always dreamt of being.” Uriah smiles for the first time. “I’d like that.” He nods his head gravely. He still doesn’t know. “I’ve got to pray, Uriah. There is something on my heart I can’t live with. I’ll pray for your strength, this city won’t be easy to take.” “As long as we have faith, Joab. As long as we have faith.” “Then I pray that your faith won’t fail.” I’ve seen one man put thousands to flight. I’ve seen walls collapse for no reason. I’ve seen my own brother kill three hundred men with a spear at one time. I’ve seen Jonathan the son of Saul destroy hundreds. I’ve seen David slaughter more. I myself have driven back an army. Tomorrow, Uriah will be left to fight an entire city by himself and only God can save him, but I can’t shake the feeling that David’s delivering him into the hands of the Ammonites, and God won’t be there to help. I’ve never prayed for a soldier before. I don’t think it will help, but I can’t do anything else. I can’t sleep, and I can’t eat. I just pray until the sun rises the next day. God, please, deliver Uriah. URIAH the Hittite The sounds of battle rage over the land as the sons of Israel horde about the base of the walls of Rabbah. Arrows and spears fall from the walls in a deluge of destruction but we press on. God will give us this city! He has, too! Our shields constantly raised save us from pounding destruction. At my right hand, my friend Ablimelech collapses under the crushing weight of a millstone thrown from the wall. It is a slaughter. We must get someone on those walls! A single ladder raises against the walls, the only one that could make it out of dozens. The sons of Israel raise the ladder and I’m the first to scale it and jump onto the walls of Rabbah. I draw my sword and am ready to fight. God has given the city into my hand! Two men are dead before my feet land on the stone of the walls. Javelins from three Ammonites slice through the air and I bat them away at the last moment with my sword. I charge and slice: chest, neck, throat, killing all three. Ammonites scale the walls to defend the city. Two arrows protrude from my shield. I jump from the southern wall to the eastern one. A dozen men with spears sprint towards me. They fall one by one. Block-shove-slice-dead. Slice-dead. Dead dead. Swing-thrust-dead. I charge forward, stepping over the bodies before they hit the ground to attack the next foe. Israel must be given the chance to scale the walls. Three arrows rush past me missing my skin by inches. I pay them no mind and charge the archers. They aim for my chest and still miss. No one can stop me with my faith! I plunge my sword into the first and the rest start running. I overtake them all. No other ladders have yet made it to the walls. I must keep fighting! This is the chance to prove myself. I’ve put my faith in God, and I can do anything! I’ll prove my manhood to everyone! Another two Ammonites fall dead before me. A mass of men with pikes and swords form a wall of spikes. They charge forward, all of aiming for me. I sprint towards them. I scream all the hatred I have out onto them. All the frustration and betrayal charges before me. The points of the pikes thrust at my chest and I spin to the right, forcing the last two remaining pikes out of my way as I charge past their weapons. They all drop their spears, unable to stop me. My arm aches strikes independently from thought, burying the sword into tissue each time. Chest strike! Neck thrust! Back thrust! They fall before me. I look back to the one ladder that I had managed to climb and it was gone. I run back across the wall, dodging four javelins along the way and killing two Ammonits. I jumped back onto the southern wall and looked over it. Israel was no longer at the base of the walls. Only the dead stayed the siege, the rest had withdrawn a safe distance. They looked up at me defenseless. Joab at their front, tears carving dusty trails in his face. “Men!” Joab yells, his voice breaking, “Yell to your God! For today, Uriah proves himself a man!” A cry such as I have never heard storms over the walls. I feel the weight of their hopes on me. The city is mine…but Israel isn’t coming. I leave the walls, charging into the city. No friends on either side of me, I attack anything that moves. My arms never rest, I run through ranks of Ammonites. Every swing is emphasized by an arch of blood that shoots off the tip of my sword. My hands are covered in sticky warmth as I press on. Israel is not coming behind me. I plunge my sword through an Ammonites throat, and stick him to a wall. I capture his sword from his hand and twirl to miss being impaled by another. I jam my sword into someone’s chest and pull it out by shoving my elbow into the body and jerking. Israel isn’t coming. My heart throbs, and for the first time I feel alone. What am I going to do with Israel letting me die? I duck into an ally to hide from a storm of javelins. I can’t keep this up. Where is my hope? I run across the street, hiding behind my shield. Before I reach them I jump with all my strength to my left, where I rebound and jump off the wall, thrusting my sword into the first of the javelin throwers. In a spinning frenzy I kill five more. Trumpets sound. On one end of the street men pour into the street, and on the other a captain of the Ammonites waits, his men behind him bracing themselves. The men at the south wall are reported to be the most valiant, and here they are ready to trap me in. I sigh out hope. Tears of blood stain my face. The valiant men are here. They charge from both ends. I charge the captain and the valiant men. They fall before me one by one. Both shield and sword are used to keep their swords away from me. I snap a neck using the crook of my arm while stabbing another. My shield slams against my chest as it stops a fatal attack. A spear lodges itself in my leg, but I don’t realize it until the five men immediately surrounding me are dead and I try to charge the next few. I’m knocked over from behind. Israel has failed me. The captain of the Ammonites runs forward and plunges his sword into my gut. I feel blood filter through my teeth as I try to bite back the pain before screaming blood over his sword. My head reels and I think of Bathsheba. I was invincible with her. The sword is pulled from my gut. Faith. Why am I putting my hope in the sons of Israel? When I needed faith in God I put it in men, that’s why I had fallen. No more. I know where my faith lies. I spring to my feet with unnatural strength and fight on. A whole nation can’t stand before me and my faith! Men are running in fear every direction, away and towards me. Blood slicks my clothes and my shoes slip on the stones from it. I think most of it is mine. I fight, my God fight! I fight even after my eyes fail me. I hear them fall before me. In a moment of clarity I see the captain before me. I charge and cross swords with him twice. He lands a punch on my face. I spit blood on him. From behind a spear thrusts through my chest. Pain like I’ve never known crushes me. I scream and drop my weapons. The captain puts his hand on my shoulder to hold me up. He readies his sword to plunge into my chest. The tip of the spear sticks a foot out of my chest, blood pouring down it. I know I can’t live much longer. I grab both of the captain’s shoulders and ram him as hard as I can. The spear tip sticks one inch out of his back. Bathsheba…I didn’t mean to break my promise. NATHAN the prophet David always stopped whatever he was doing whenever one of God’s messengers came to him, even if it is his son’s birth. Everything stops when God speaks; that’s what I like about David. He knows when respect is due, and he doesn’t respect me, he respects the one that sent me. “David, I’ve got a sad story for you. May you judge it and be found wise.” David nods his head, holding the child in his arms. “There is a city where a rich man and a poor man live. The rich man owns many things, houses, slaves, herds of herds, and land, the poor man owns merely one ewe. The poor man loved his ewe like a daughter and took great care of it. No sheep has ever seen such royal treatment as this one ewe that the poor man loved so much. One day the rich man has a visitor come to him. Rather than take from his own herds, the rich man uses his power to take the ewe from the poor man, and he feeds it to the visitor.” David shook his head. “This happened in Jerusalem? It’s disgusting. When people show such hate toward each other it pains my heart. The rich man deserves to die terribly. The rich man must be brought here and pay back the poor man four-fold, but even that won’t ease the loss of the love the poor man had for the ewe.” I looked into David’s eyes. David knew justice, but sin had blinded him. “David,” I say to the king of Israel, “you are the rich man.” David sat back in his chair momentarily perplexed. At that moment, God tells me to make it frightfully clear to him what I’m talking about. “David, thus says the Lord!” I shout at him, pointing at his face. “ ‘I anointed you over Saul and gave him your house. I gave you wives. I gave you power. I gave you land. And if those weren’t enough you only had to ask and I would have given you more things like these! Why have you done this great evil? The Lord has seen what you have done. You killed Uriah. You robbed him of his faith. You stole him away from his wife until she couldn’t bear to be without him, and then you stole her. You took the one thing that Uriah loved from this earth simply for your pleasure! You had everything and you killed him with it. You killed Uriah, David. Even worse, before Uriah fell his faith faltered and he was struck down and it is all because of you. Behold, the Lord knows all the evil you have done in secret. He is rising up against you because you have done this abominable thing and He is going to shame you and make it public. He will give all your wives to your companion, and He’ll take them in the sight of all Israel. And what more, the child that you hold in your arms has given the enemies of the Lord the chance to blaspheme against Him. The child will surely die.’” “No! I have sinned, I know, but why the child? I love the child, take me!” David pleads. I walk to the exit, but before I leave I pause to say one last thing that God whispers to me. “David, you were going to pass off the child as Uriah’s. You could live without the child then.” I walk out of the presence of the king of Israel as the child starts to cough, and the king can only hang his head in shame and tears.