Sermon: "You Shall Not Die," Twenty-Sixth Sunday After Pentecost, November 17, 2024
Scripture: 2 Samuel 11:26-12:15
Preacher: Rev. Ryan Slifka
This week we’re continuing in our sermon series on one Samuel and two Samuel, telling the story of David, Israel's greatest king. Things have been on the up and up for David. Now they've hit a steep decline.
If you remember last week David slept with Bathsheba, his best friend Uriah's wife, getting her pregnant. To hide this betrayal he had Uriah sent to the front of the battle line where he was killed. Now with Uriah out of the way he's married Bathsheba, she's had the baby. David did a lot of bad stuff. But it looks like he might be free and clear.
It seemed that way. That is, until we're told God sends Nathan to David.
Nathan knows it all. But he also knows that it's dangerous to confront a desperate king with the harsh truth. A harsh truth that, according to the law of Moses comes with a death penalty. Nathan, luckily is a good preacher. He knows that the best way to preach is having your audience not know that they're being preached to. So instead of a frontal assault, a direct accusation, he tells David a story:
There are a couple of men in a certain city, one rich, one poor. The rich man had absolutely everything livestock coming out of every pore in his body. The poor man had nothing. Nothing but a single little lamb one that grew up with this family one that he loved one that he spoiled one that he gave everything to. One day this really important guest shows up at the rich man's house, so the rich man’s gotta put out some kind of spread or he’ll be a bad host. But the rich man’s cheap. So he just takes the poor man’s lamb to serve it instead.
And, you know, David hears this and he’s OUTRAGED. That's terrible who could do something like that? They gotta give that guy the chair!” Of course, he's just falling into Nathans trap. Basically the story is about David. “You,” says Nathan, “You, my Lord, are the guy. You are the man.”
You struck down your best friend, like the rich man who took the poor man's lamb, you killed your best friend to take his wife. And because you're the guy, says the Lord, I'm going to take away everything that I gave you. I will raise trouble against your royal house there will be nothing but conflict. I will take your wives before your eyes and give them to your neighbor. You did this behind closed doors, I'm gonna do it in plain sight. Because you did what you did I am taking everything away."
On account of David's transgressions, God’s going to take everything he gave David away. After all, even David admits it that he deserves death. It’s a penalty David conjured up himself. He can run, but he can’t hide from the Lord. He’s gonna lose it all.
Now here's the incredible thing about David. Remember the lengths David went through to cover up his affair with Bathsheba, and to cover up the proof of that affair their baby. David went as far as he could to hide, to deflect responsibility for what he’d done, and to avoid the consequences of his actions. But when he's confronted by Nathan, when he's confronted by God's judgment, he doesn't try to weasel out of it. He doesn't try to escape. No. He comes clean with three little words:
“I have SINNED,” says David. “I have sinned against the Lord.” Now, to be clear, Nathan hasn’t told him to do this. He hasn’t offered some kind of heavenly plea bargain if David comes clean. No, he’s facing the whole penalty. Guilty as charged. He takes the heat. Come what may.
At this point you can imagine David holding out his wrists ready to be cuffed. Ready to be taken away to the electric chair. I mean, when he was tricked with that whole parable thing he—ironically—proclaimed a death sentence on himself.
But here’s what Nathan says in response. “Now the Lord has put away your sin; You shall not die.”
David says, “I have sinned against the Lord,” and Nathan's response is “the Lord has put away your sin. You shall not die.”
To put it in the simplest terms possible: David sinned greatly, he was sentenced to death, he confessed his sin, and he was forgiven. He would not die. He sinned, he confessed, and he was forgiven.
It’s at this point that we come to one of the great central themes at the heart of the Christian message. This case with David is textbook forgiveness. And it’s not even a matter of deserving forgiveness. Remember, how he doesn’t play it down. David says himself, he deserved punishment in kind for what he’d done. That no matter what anyone has done. No matter what you and I do. That we repent, we turn away from our wrongdoing. We take responsibility for what we’ve done. And we find not divine punishment. But we find forgiveness. No matter how undeserving we may be. God puts away our wrongdoing. And we will not die.
Sounds a little too easy, of course. Like, this guy had his friend killed, forced himself on this friend’s wife. Lied, deceived to cover it up. David’s sincerest sorry won't undo the pain he’s caused. It won’t cancel Bathsheba’s grief, and it certainly won’t bring Uriah back. Seems a little too easy. Seems a little unfair. Not only a little unfair, but supremely unjust. We sin, God forgives. Never mind the consequences. Do whatever you want, I guess, and just say you’re sorry and it’s all fine?
One thing you notice, though, is that, actually, David doesn’t get off scot free. David avoids the death penalty, sure, but his royal house is still gonna implode. Not only that, but that’s that other little detail. On account of what he’s done, his and Bathsheba’s baby—his son—is going to die. God’s forgiveness doesn’t mean that everything’s going to be fine for us, or go back to normal as if it never happened. God’s forgiveness doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for our actions in this life. No.
However, there is more to it than just this life. This life is all David is really talking about. Now, the New Testament picks up on the theme we find here in Samuel. But it takes it to a radical conclusion. And you hear a seed of it in today’s text. Remember how David does not die… but his son does. David avoided death, but his son did not. His son bore the consequences of David’s sin. You could say that this son died in David’s place. Not a good thing. A terrible thing. But this is what happens.
Of course, at this point you might see where I’m going with this.
This whole episode points us to Jesus. According to the New Testament, there is indeed a Son who bears the consequences of sin, and that Son is a descendant of David. But that Son is also the Son of God. And the sins he bears are not the sins of one man but the sins of every man, of every woman. Of every human being. David’s son got what David himself deserved. But the good news of the gospel is that in his one and only Son God himself has taken everything we ourselves have ever deserved into himself on the cross. Like Archbishop Desmond Tutu said during the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa said, “True reconciliation is not cheap. It cost God the death of his only Son.”[i] God has put away your sins. Every. Single. One.
And whereas David was saved immanent death in this life, you and I are saved from death itself and given the gift of eternal life. And the best part is that all the consequences of everything you’ve ever done. Wiped away. Every wrong you’ve ever committed, made right. Every fault and failure turned to good. Not only that, but you will be made new. In the words of Sam Gamgee to Frodo in The Lord of the Rings everything sad will one day become untrue. TOTAL forgiveness. TOTAL reconciliation. Death of death and hell’s destruction.
It’s not cheap or easy. But it is free and for all who—like David—are willing to tell the truth about who they are. And accept the gift of forgiveness.
And you know, knowing that we’re forgiven can actually change us in this life, too. Like David, we can be honest. Like David, we can face up to our faults and failures without fear. No matter what.
A couple weeks ago I was listening to a podcast, and one of the hosts is an Episcopal Bishop. Which is the American equivalent of Anglican here. The topic of the episode was grace. Just how astounding it can be.
This Bishop shared a story from the early 90’s when he was in high school in Washington State. An older friend and him had read about this serial killer who was slated to be executed for some horrific crimes. I won’t go into the particulars. You can imagine. So him and this friend of his decided to write this man a letter. A letter that outlined the basic Christian message of forgiveness. The one I’ve just presented to you. That on account of Jesus, his death on the cross, and resurrection, even this serial killer could be forgiven. Even him.
The man responded with his own letter, which the Bishop kept. Funny enough, somebody had beaten him to the punch. The letter started by thanking him, and noted that he received about 20-25 letters per week.
“I had done a few Bible studies,” the man wrote. “I had done a few Bible studies, but didn't consider myself a Christian. I do not believe the courtroom is a place to discuss my religious beliefs and certainly do not want some attorney to try to use God to save my life.
The truth is I've not done a few studies. I've completed several lengthy correspondence courses. In two years, I've probably put in at least 2000 hours of Bible study. There's absolutely no doubt in my mind after all that studying that the Bible is the word of God.
I was baptized on July 16th, 1991. The reason I did not want to say that in the courtroom is because I don't want people thinking that I'm using God to save my own life, which the attorneys wanted me to do. Also, I will not ask any man to spare my life.
Every defense attorney I've ever dealt with has lied more times than I could believe. I don't care about any attorney or any courtroom on this planet.
On July 16th at last [when I was baptized], I asked Jesus Christ to be my attorney in that courtroom where everyone will face judgment.
“My attorney, the Lord Jesus Christ, has assured me that I will receive a sentence of eternal life, and that he's preparing a place for me right now. Man's laws say I must die, and I agree with those laws. […] I mean, I would rather die now than take a chance of killing again and turning away from God.
Thank you for writing, and God bless you. I was in prison and you visited me.
The Lord knows you wrote me. I'll talk to you on the other side.”[ii]
This man could face up to everything he’d done in his life. The worst things human beings can do to other human beings. Like David, he could face the consequences, even his own death, because he knew the promise of the gospel. That on account of Jesus, even he was assured that he would not die, but live. And that even he would find a future in the grace of God.
And if even he can. It means you can too. And just as importantly—your neighbour can, too. This is at the heart of the Christian message. Total forgiveness. And it’s all mine and yours simply by pulling a David, coming to terms with who we are and seeking forgiveness. Trusting ourselves to the mercy of our endlessly gracious God. That’s all it takes.
So you can quit your hiding, your self-deceit. You can quit all your deflecting, and denying. Because like David YOU are the man. YOU are the woman in the parable. But you can stand tall, owning up to it all. You can seek forgiveness, and hand it out yourself. Because no matter what you’ve done. YOU WILL NOT DIE. Ever. But you will live.
All on account of the self-emptying obedience of Jesus Christ.
I offer this to you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[i] Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness (New York: Image Books, 1999), 247.
[ii] Justin Holcolmb, Bob Hiller, Michael Horton, and Walter Strickland, “Grace—How We are Set Free from Sin and Misery,” The White Horse Inn podcast, November 10, 2024. https://whitehorseinn.org/resource-library/shows/grace-how-we-are-set-free-from-sin-and-misery/